"I Taught Myself Knitting"
I picked up the "I Taught Myself Knitting" kit at Wal-Mart last month. On the way home, I attempted Lesson 1, "casting on." I grew tired of Lesson 1 within ten minutes, accomplishing nothing but growls and harrumphs. I shoved the kit in a kitchen drawer when I got home.
A week later, I pulled out the kit and attempted Lesson 1 a second time. After staring at the directions a few minutes, I hastily shoved the kit back into the drawer.
A week ago, I pulled it out once again. I spent twelve bucks on this damn kit, so I was determined to at least learn Lesson 1. And I did. I accomplished Lesson 2, "Knit stitch." With eyebrows furrowed, mouth slackened, and my impatience mounting, I finished my first piece. I'll even share it with you. Can you guess what it is?
*
Why, it's a wristband of course! Well, it will be once I learn Lesson 16, "Finishing Techniques: how to join seams."
The first few rows came along quite nicely. Then around row 6 or 7, you may notice some dropped stitches. That was when Seinfeld came on. Rows 10 through 13 may have a few extra stitches. That's after the vodka tonic. Try to overlook the weird knobbly thing in row 22. That was a daring attempt at Lesson 11, "cable patterns."
I don't know how people can knit on the bus. Every bump that 2-ton machine hits, my needle flies past the loopy thing and narrowly misses gouging out someone's eye like skewering a kebob. I've heard folks say knitting is soothing. It gives me a slight headache. I'm hoping it's because I'm still in the wee stages of learning, staring at tiny loops and concentrating intently on the steps.
There's a lady I see on the express bus sometimes. She knits at a rate of .000000001 seconds per loop. All you hear is "click click click click click click click click click," her eyes somewhere over highway 280.
One day, I hope to accomplish these fine patterns found in the back of my "I Taught Myself Knitting" workbook:
A lovely "black and white" sweater.
The matching "Adam & Eve's Rib."
And the handsome "Nordic vest."
After the wristband, I confidently began Project #2: My Very First Scarf.
After my patience ran out somewhere between row 20 and 25, the project turned into My Very First Potholder.
I might post a pic of it if I ever find out where my cats are holding it hostage.
*The twist is unintentional. Not so noticeable when lying flat under a 20 lb. dictionary.
A week later, I pulled out the kit and attempted Lesson 1 a second time. After staring at the directions a few minutes, I hastily shoved the kit back into the drawer.
A week ago, I pulled it out once again. I spent twelve bucks on this damn kit, so I was determined to at least learn Lesson 1. And I did. I accomplished Lesson 2, "Knit stitch." With eyebrows furrowed, mouth slackened, and my impatience mounting, I finished my first piece. I'll even share it with you. Can you guess what it is?
*
Why, it's a wristband of course! Well, it will be once I learn Lesson 16, "Finishing Techniques: how to join seams."
The first few rows came along quite nicely. Then around row 6 or 7, you may notice some dropped stitches. That was when Seinfeld came on. Rows 10 through 13 may have a few extra stitches. That's after the vodka tonic. Try to overlook the weird knobbly thing in row 22. That was a daring attempt at Lesson 11, "cable patterns."
I don't know how people can knit on the bus. Every bump that 2-ton machine hits, my needle flies past the loopy thing and narrowly misses gouging out someone's eye like skewering a kebob. I've heard folks say knitting is soothing. It gives me a slight headache. I'm hoping it's because I'm still in the wee stages of learning, staring at tiny loops and concentrating intently on the steps.
There's a lady I see on the express bus sometimes. She knits at a rate of .000000001 seconds per loop. All you hear is "click click click click click click click click click," her eyes somewhere over highway 280.
One day, I hope to accomplish these fine patterns found in the back of my "I Taught Myself Knitting" workbook:
A lovely "black and white" sweater.
The matching "Adam & Eve's Rib."
And the handsome "Nordic vest."
After the wristband, I confidently began Project #2: My Very First Scarf.
After my patience ran out somewhere between row 20 and 25, the project turned into My Very First Potholder.
I might post a pic of it if I ever find out where my cats are holding it hostage.
*The twist is unintentional. Not so noticeable when lying flat under a 20 lb. dictionary.
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