It’s knot for everyone

I almost learned how to knit once. It didn’t go well.

I took a free class at a “Knitting Convention,” mostly out of desperation for a new hobby while recovering from a back surgery. Rob took me to the convention and planned to just linger while I learned how to purl this and knit that. Instead, he was swarmed like the hottie he is by a gaggle of excited post-menopausal women delighted to have a young stud in the hall. Whether he wanted to learn or not, Rob got personalized knitting instruction from about six fawning women while I sat alone in the front row using two “learning needle” turkey basters to make a really impressive knot of turquoise knits.

Rob is a quick study so he taught me what he learned when we got home that day. However, I quickly realized that key to knitting is gravity. It is a whole lot easier to knit while sitting and looking down on your work. Lying in bed and knitting at eye level is not recommended. Especially while on every-four-hours pain medication. After producing an even more impressive knot of mauve knits from the comfort of my own bed, I gave up and went back to my obsession with TLC’s “Trading Spaces,” envisioning daily how we would one day remodel our bedroom with refurbished treasures found at garage sales. Luckily we moved before any of those drug-induced visions became reality.

Eleven years later…a few weeks ago…I found myself at a women’s retreat with an afternoon free to learn any number of things. “Learn to Crochet a Beanie!” was one option. I almost brushed it off until I realized that the Beanie in question was a hat and not a “so 1997” Beanie Baby stuffed animal. Emily, the young woman teaching the class, has looked adorable all winter in the knitted hats (now understood to be “crocheted beanies”) she has made. So I decided to forgo a free massage (yeah, I know) to make myself a new hat.

With the help of some friends, I carefully chose my yarn color to best suit my eye color. I ended up with something along the lines of Kermit the Frog. Then Emily handed me a hook. I waited patiently for her to give me the second one. Instead she started talking about the size of different hooks, referred to by letters. I looked on the hook she gave me and I only saw numbers. Then I realized that the 1 was actually an I. We were off to a great start. And I still only had one hook.

We then learned how to make a slip knot. It involved forming the yarn on your fingers in the shape of a Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon and then doing something magical to create a knot on your hook. Being a very experienced yarn knotter, this should have been easy for me. I know knots. But not that knot. And I still only had one hook.

The lesson progressed as I finally understood that one hook is sufficient for crocheting. I then tried really really really hard to do that “flip and rotate shapes in your head” thing that I always purely guess at on aptitude tests. My brain can do a lot of things. Spatial rotating is not one of them. So I was hopelessly lost as Emily faced us as she made more knots and loops and twisted the yarn around and around her fingers and the hook. I looked to the women sitting near me. Sharrie had it. Ronee had it. Ida had it. Pretty much all 15 women had it. I didn’t have it.

“Your tension is really important,” offered Sharrie.

Oh, I was tense alright. Plenty of tension right here, thank you.

Emily kept moving right along, the rest of the women with her, and sprouting from their hooks were these adorable little round clumps of intentional, stylized, organized knots. My clump was none of those adjectives.

Nyemah appeared from behind me. She had been quietly crocheting away on her well-formed beanie. She tried to help me start over again, including the slip knot. I looked over at Ronee who looked very peaceful as her fingers worked the yarn with rhythm. In fact, all of the women looked quite calm and happily chatted as they worked. I had heard crocheting was relaxing. And I was surrounded by proof. And yet I was anything but relaxed. Then Ida came to my rescue.

“You know, this is pretty advanced if you have never crocheted before.”

God bless Ida.

“Why don’t you just work on a chain until you get the hang of it?” And within minutes I had a lovely line of Kermit the Frog green knots and renewed hope.

“Cool! I can do a chain! Now what can I make?” I asked with enthusiasm.

“Oh, you can make dish towels and pot holders!!” Ronee volunteered.

But that would mean I would have to be in the kitchen…cooking and dirtying dishes…to use my crocheted creations.

Needlepoint. I should definitely take up needlepoint. How hard can that be?