For the Pleasure of Knitting

As a small child, I watched my sisters knit handbags. There were the style back then and I remember they had nice wooden buttons to keep them closed. I was maybe ten years old and I knew that I wanted to make one as well. I do not remember anyone showing me, but someone must have because I found a ball of beige yarn , probably a left over of my mother's socks or mitts, and began to knit a bag just like my older sisters. I would be in fashion too. I was so happy and I think it turned out alright. I knit a long strap and sewed it on and proudly showed everyone.

But I lived with my great auntie and she was not going to have me wasting good yarn. Without me knowing , she unraveled my bag and knit a pair of the ugliest mitts I ever saw. When she gave them to me she said nothing but I knew what she had done. I was so hurt and went to see my mother. But she was always the peace maker and although she agreed that it was wrong , it was too late , and for me not to say anything. I hated those mitts and don't think I ever wore them much. I probably made my younger sister wear them.

Today, I have so much yarn and I am always buying more. I love the colours and the possibilities of making so many things. These days I am making barn cats.. why... I do not know. Except they remind me of the barn cats I grew up with and they give me the possibility of knitting all kinds using different colours and sizes. Then I can give them each a bit of character. This creative outlet helps me deal with that loss from so long ago.... maybe? Okay maybe that is just an excuse to deal with my knitting addiction.