I’m a bad daughter, bad granddaughter, bad sister! Look at me! Blogging instead of spending quality time with my family!
My mom told me some interesting childhood tidbits that I needed to write down immediately before forgetting them. Obviously they have to do with knitting (otherwise they wouldn’t appear here).
We were once again discussing if and when I ever learned to knit as a child. The answer is “yes, but it didn’t stick at all.” Apparently, when I was a little girl, my mom tried very hard to domesticate me. I had many dolls, doll strollers, and doll accessories. My mom sewed clothes for my dolls and tried to involve me in the process, in hopes that I would get interested.
I would have none of it. In fact, I insisted that all my dolls remain naked. Furthermore, I didn’t give a single one of them a name. Ever. And of course I completely ignored them, their strollers, their accessories, their homemade clothes, and any attempts of domestication. Instead, I liked to do puzzles – what’s next in this series? which thing doesn’t belong? identify 10 differences – that kind of thing. That was my idea of fun playtime.
Then my mom tells me that someone finally forced me to learn knitting, and that I even finished a little scarf! The killer: she still has it – it’s in the basement. Mama mia! Must see! It must be something very special to have been dragged across the Atlantic!
We dug through a bunch of forgotten boxes (one of which had my, ahem, college diplomas, you know, those fancy pieces of paper in Latin that cost a ton of money, but are eventually shoved into some box to never be unearthed again), and here it is:
This, my friends, is my very first FO. Moment of silence.
Sorry for the craptastic photos, I don’t have my own digital camera with me, so I made do with my brother’s.
Apparently I’ve always liked burgundy.
This little guy is 19″ long, and, uhm, 6″ wide on one end, 4.5″ on the other. 1 X 1 rib with a TON of mistakes. My mom says I got bored after 19″ of knitting, and didn’t pick up the needles again until last year. She says that as a child, I never learned anything beyond knits and purls, that someone else cast on and bound off for me.
We also found this, which apparently I made as well:
I swear, I’ve never touched a crochet hook in my life ;). Magic crochet gnomes must’ve made that little thing.
Last, my parents were showing me some photos they took on their trip to Colorado last month. This is not posed, not planned, and I didn’t ask for it:
Is there any doubt from where Grumperina gets her grumpiness?!?