Some friends and I used to get together semiregularly to knit, but as you can imagine we are bad about getting together on any kind of real schedule. Plus my former status as a strict winter knitter (I lost all urge in the summer) meant that knitting group was never a sure thing. But JS decided we needed to resurrect it, and I’m quite glad that she finally pushed us to do so. Snorko and I went to the gym at 5:30, then, sweaty and hungry, we headed on over to JS’s place for pizza and knitting. The pictures are bad, because I was too lazy to get up and try to take nice ones . . . bear with me.
Snorko, who I taught to knit last year, has completed a few scarves and has mastered knitting and purling. She even decided to take on a project of her own invention, creating a scarf with a checkerboard pattern made out of knits and purls in order to help her practice identifying them. I’m so proud of her for coming up with this and taking this on. But why didn’t I think about what a black scarf on her black outfit was going to look like in the pictures? I now realize it looks like a big fat nothing. For all you know, there’s nothing on her needles at all. But maybe if you look closely . . .
JS has been knitting for a bit longer but is still pretty new to it. She’s in the process of making a sweater for her son, the infamous Sam, and tonight I taught her how to increase into a stitch as she works on the sleeves. I also did some triage on the back of the sweater–she’d dropped a stitch and stopped working. I fixed it up, hope I explained the dropped stitch well enough, and she should be on her way.
Chonk isn’t a knitter, though she may get a lesson next time. Instead, she cross-stitches, and we welcome all threads on needles. She’s doing this pretty piece that involves some birds–but she has no idea what or who she’s making it for. This is my problem with cross-stitching as well. I really enjoy the act of it, but the patterns and the finished look just doesn’t mesh with my personal style in any way, shape, or form. It doesn’t even seem appropriate for my grandmother.
But the big action was in my corner of the room, where I taught Kbob how to knit. He’s come to knitting group before, just to hang out, and expressed interest in learning how. We didn’t do any more than the knit stitch tonight; he’s been handed the ball of yarn and needles and told to practice between now and next time. I taught him continental because I think that if you can master that from the outset, you’re set for life. Since it’s always a new, awkward motion, why not instill a potentially speedy technique in him from the outset. He’s talking scarves, once he gets this down.
As for me, I mostly kept an eye on Kbob’s progress (beginners always seem to forget that you have to take the old stitch off the needle), fixed some hiccups in Snork’s work, and helped JS with the dropped stitch. I showed both Snork and JS how to put stitches back on the needle and identify if they’re on backward or not. That’s a tough one, but Snorko got it quickly–so I taught her how to knit into the back of the stitch instead of bothering to physically turn it around.
In all, I think I knit 2 rounds on my USMP sleeve. I never actually get much of my own knitting done at knitting group (this is what happens when you’re the most experienced knitter in the room). But it’s fun to just hang out. Eventually I’ll finish this damn sleeve. I swear. Really. Honestly. Do you think I have finisher’s fear? Or something? Am I so scared that when I complete the sleeve I’ll have to actually, you know, attach it to the body, and then I’ll have to sew in the few ends, and I’ll have to find buttons, and then it’ll be over? I’m so close to done with the sleeve, but I’m managing to drag it out for weeks. I think I just don’t want to stop this project. What the heck is wrong with me!