Creative Endeavours

I have decided to try knitting. Until today, I had thought I would wait until my children were grown, then learn how to knit so I could be the kind of grandmother who makes sweaters for everyone. I had one of those - she turned out a sweater a year for her 2 children, 2 in-laws, and 5 grandchildren - and still have the last sweater she made for me, some 15 years ago.

But I wasn't planning on getting started any time soon. You see, I'm still smarting from a failed attempt at knitting 30 years ago in Brownies. One of the key tasks of Browniehood, requisite if one was to 'fly up' to Guides, was turning out 40 rows of 40 stitches.

I failed. Miserably. I think I managed 19 rows of between 12 and 68 stitches. With a few gaping holes. I knew I was never going to fly up. Eventually, we moved across the country, and I joined a Guide troop 3000 miles away, without ever completely that miserable woolen square.

But today I wandered into Michaels, the monster craft store, in search of Christmas ornament components - looking for something that would appeal to both a 3 and an 8 year-old. After acquiring beads and pipe cleaners in holiday colours, MonkeyBoy and I wandered around the store a bit (well, I wandered, he tried to convince me that standing up in the stroller and re-enacting 5 Little Monkeys was a good idea. For the record, it's not.). In one aisle they had a display of fuzzy wools - very trendy now for ponchos - where I was smitten by a gorgeous blend of variegated purples - eggplant, plum, dark violet. And, to clinch the deal, there were directions for making a fabulous scarf RIGHT THERE ON THE LABEL.

It was meant to be. So I convinced myself that I can learn to knit, bought a couple of balls and a pair of needles.

I wonder how many balls of wool they sell a year to optimistic fools.