yarn
This is one of my favorite words. I’ve been looking forward to it since m or n. I love it because it does double duty to mean both “a story” and “that wonderfully soft, colorful stuff that you can buy by the armload at Hobby Lobby.”
Yarn as story calls to mind a tale that is fun and funny and a bit unpredictable. One of my favorite yarn-tellers is my friend Edith (I mentioned her in t too). And, in a bit of y kismet, Edith is also the person who taught me to knit. For a whole year I went to her house once a month or so…in her mind it was for me to learn to bake (knitting was a bonus…something to do during the oven’s part), in mine it was to hear her stories.
She taught me to knit in the European style…which for some reason is something I’m really proud of. Just one of those things I like the sound of I think. But also, she is German, so it makes me feel like I have acquired some exotic skill. (Even if it’s a skill mostly used by little old ladies and hipsters.) Our lessons ended before I’d learned to do much more than knit and purl – so I’m pretty much limited to scarves and other straight-edged things, but I’m still happy doing it. There’s something very soothing about the click of the needles and the line-by-line progression of knitting. It’s a very wintry sort of therapy – and my fingers are itching to get to it again.
I love most making things with no pattern…no great picture of where I’ll end up. Just the colors and textures I want to spend some time with. This is as true for story as it is for knitting. I’ve been reading snatches from a book that says this strategy might work for life too. Decide on some story elements I’d like to include in my own narrative and just get them going. Start working toward them. I’m not great at that usually – or at least I don’t think of myself as great at that. Goals get quickly stifling to me…make me feel like life is mired in molasses. A rut of molasses. And tar. With rain clouds constantly overhead. And my feet in the world’s heaviest shoes. You get the idea.
I think some of that is because I think goals have to mean a pattern – a day-to-day list of prescriptions. And I wonder if maybe it doesn’t have to be quite that way. I mean, I know I want to end up making a scarf…but there’s still loads of changes I can make along the way. Once upon a time I decided I wanted to hear the stories of a fascinating friend, and so I asked her if I could start coming to visit. Who knew that along that way I’d learn to bake shortbread and carrot cake and learn to knit? I need some life in my life you guys. That’s an oft-recurring refrain in my history.
But what if? Just what if? What if it maybe just starts with a trip to some existential Hobby Lobby to pick out some colors and textures I like – and there’s still plenty of room for whim? And what if I’m not quite as awful at seeing things through as I think of myself? I am, after all, ready for z.
I’ve been working on the same scarf for about 4-5 years now and I think the reason it’s taking me so long is because I am following a pattern. You can’t just pick up a scarf to mindlessly work on while watching TV or chatting with a friend when you have a pattern to keep track of! But I am now inspired to finish it and start something new!
Oh! Let me introduce you to the wonders of no patterns! And…let’s go yarn shopping!
YAY for knitting and telling a tale!!! This is probably my favorite post, girlie. I love to knit and my favorite pattern has become part of me and what I can share with others. I learned to knit in 4-H with a wonderful woman with so much patience, Gertie Thompson. And then my neighbor, Amberline LeCompte, taught me how to knit my original dishcloth. Since 1993, I have knit approximately 600 dishcloths as gifts. I’ve knit other patterns but I always come back to this one as my favorite. This is a true “yarn” because I started keeping a journal after I read the following quote by Frieda Hill Wager (1906) from her Friendship Album: “Count the day lost, whose low, descending sun, Views from thy hand… No worthy action done.” SJ’s Mom