Wednesday... and I give up my post

Today, I give up my blog post to Dianne, a former associate at the yarn store I still work at. She emailed me with HER answer to "why do you knit". Her reply begs to be published and so.....

Knitting has nurtured me since before I was born. I cannot answer the question of why I knit. I can't imagine life without knitting.
My great grandmother was blind, but she raised nine children and ran a farm. Part of her daily work was knitting for her family. She knitted socks by the hundreds and "jumpers" and ganseys to keep her boys warm as they worked the sheep farm. Her very respectable daughters (the youngest of which was my grandmother) learned early to knit and created their own bloomers and camisoles out of good, serviceable Scottish wool. Of course, they first had to see that the men in the family were well clothed!

My grandmother knitted a great deal. I don't know whether it was a result of being taught by her blind mother, or whether her good Scottish upbringing caused her to want to save electricity, but she often sat knitting in a darkened room. I think she would sit down to knit in the afternoon, and, as dusk settled, just never stop long enough to turn on a light. In her senior years she often knit while reading a book or watching TV. She could turn a heel without even looking! I cherish the memory of knitted doll clothes. They were an extravagance that she would never have extended to herself or her own children. She sent us sweaters at Christmas and gloves that we were far too young to appreciate.

My own mother knitted. When I was about six, she made me an apple green cabled cardigan. I was fascinated by the way the stitches twisted into cables. It wasn't an illusion, they really DID twist around each other! I was hooked. Not long after, I begged my first knitting lessons.

I really never stopped knitting. As a teenager, I remember presenting a boyfriend with a pair of mittens that were too big, but made with all the young love in my heart. I dreamed up far more projects than I could ever have completed. (Nothing's changed, has it?) Later, my friend Irene and I took to knitting Aran sweaters in an unspoken competition as to who could do the most difficult pattern. We had fun. I think Irene won.

I married, and my new mother-in-law showed me how to knit socks. We became great friends. She's in her 90's now and knitted a pair of socks for her son in law last Christmas. She kept my children in socks and mittens, and again, they were too young to appreciate them. She and I are still best friends. We spent many many evenings together knitting and talking. Our love is deep.

When my children were small, I went to live for a while in Australia. I knew no one and was lonely. However, Austrailian wool is wonderful, soft and inexpensive. It was when Kaffe Fasset's delightful coloured sweaters were all the rage. I knitted, and returned to Canada with many projects completed and a hockey bag full of merino wool.

Arriving in Ottawa, once again not knowing a soul, my neighbour invited me to Stitch'n'Bitch. Instant friends! Knitting bonded us.

Now I am back "home." My daughter knits. Away at University, knitting brings her comfort and friends. She made a blanket for a friend's new baby and a bag for herself. When she is home for a visit, we sit and knit and talk of many things.

Knitting has been my companion and my therapy. It has seen me though marriage and divorce, births and deaths, life's joys, friendship and loneliness.....I have kept on knitting. It's always brought me comfort. Why do I knit? Why do I breathe? It feeds my soul.

Thanks, Dianne. {{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}