The knitting corner

I don’t quite remember when I started knitting.

I clearly remember my mother knitting, and it’s likely that during those times, she would give me some leftover yarn.

However, I have a vivid memory of the skeins of yarn. In the absence of a swift, we children had the task of holding our arms wide open while grandma quickly wound a ball of yarn. It was fun to follow the thread with our body movements as it unwound.

Grandma didn’t knit; she preferred to crochet. She made hundreds of granny squares while sitting in the kitchen on her chair. Far from the recent revival of the granny style, her blankets were a bit gaudy and, although not particularly appreciated, they were still widely used.

She also made what she called “pełegrine” in dialect: horrible little shawls that I always associated with Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother. Perhaps that’s why I always avoided learning to crochet. Yet, time beautifies memories, and what once seemed gaudy and old now seems more than respectable.

I made my first knitting projects around the age of twenty, out of love. Two very complicated Aran sweaters that I gave to the man who would become my husband.

Then I stopped. I started again, always out of love: a blanket for my baby, a hat, a little scarf. Then my daughter was born, and I tried to cast on stitches for a little cotton dress, then a sweater. All projects abandoned because my daughter grew faster than the clothes. The years of inconclusiveness.

Like many, I dedicated 2020 to baking and sweets. Too many.

In 2021, my attitude towards yarn and threads changed. I found a new determination: I learned to crochet, I got into circular needles, and the continental technique. I learned to construct a sweater using the top-down technique. I made an effort to find a more comfortable and relaxed way of working. I became faster, more consistent, more motivated.

I still have a lot to learn, and this is my journey.