I often wonder whether I will ever become an avid knitter. When I was in Germany, my friend Chelly introduced me to knitting. Now, mind you, I’m from the tropics and things like wool and cashmere just don’t exist there. But in Northern Europe, even my husband donned a merino sweater. I mean, it’s just that cold! And I couldn’t help but adore the fair aisle prints, the chunky scarves, and wooly wrist warmers.
We’ve since left Germany and come to settle in the high deserts of North America. Now that the leaves are turning shades of mustard, pumpkin and deep burgundy, my mind has wandered to knitting and crocheting. I’ve definitely mastered the art of crochet. It’s not that difficult. I don’t know every stitch in the book, but I know most of them enough to create wrist warmers, cowls, hats, amigurumi, socks, etc. free form. It’s simple enough that if a pattern doesn’t fit your liking, you can modify it easily. BUT knitting, on the other hand is completely foreign to me. It’s as foreign to me as the Icelandic language–the more I try to understand it, the less I get it.
So here I am trying my hand at knitting once again. It’s so frustrating! I tried knitting a pair of wrist warmers for my son–which you think would be a piece of cake–but they came out different sizes. I’m sure it’s my tension that’s throwing my gauge off, but here I am trying to knit myself a pair of arm warmers. I’m sure it’ll come out asymmetric as well, but still I knit on, hoping that one day the pieces of the knitting puzzle will fall in place for me.