I’m beginning to think I’m a social knitter, that I need the pressure of showing up to a class to keep making progress on my sweater. I haven’t quite hit the “I can quit anytime it let’s me” point yet with knitting. Being such a beginner, it’s encouraging to go to class and find out I’m not the only one confused by having to increase evenly across a row, or that forgetting how to bind off isn’t unique to me. And that realization is a nuisance because I’ve had my fifth and final knitting class. Sadly, the session is over.
While I’m nowhere near done with my sweater, I did manage to complete the back panel and to start the right front panel during the last class period. I was thrilled to get that much done in the last class because if I had to figure out how to increase evenly across the row again all by my lonesome I probably would’ve become violent.
How did I ever think I could teach myself to knit from a book?
There are all sorts of things I’ve learned simply from reading, but knitting isn’t going to be one of those things. I just can’t visualize what I’m supposed to do from looking at a couple illustrations and reading the description. Fortunately, the knitting shop where I took my class encourages and welcomes students to continue to come in and get help on their projects at any time.
Offering students continued help only makes sense—if you are trying to sell someone on a life-long love of knitting so you can also sell them yarn, then you should give them all the encouragement they need to keep knitting. I wish I could say I chose to attend knitting classes at this particular shop because they had a great attitude or something like that, but mostly I just chose the place because it was close. I lucked out. This place has been easy to work with, fun, and it’s independently owned too. The shop’s help table has hours two days a week, but the shop owner says that we can come in any time for help because we’ve taken a class from them—according to her, students and former students have priority.
That’s right, I may never fly first class or attend one of Elton John’s parties or walk the red carpet, but I’m a VIP at the yarn shop. I have this vision of myself stepping into the yarn shop like godfather of soul James Brown, complete with satin cape and entourage. Let’s hear it for life’s little luxuries.
I know that I can get the help I need to finish my sweater, but I still miss my class. Because, more than simply missing the encouragement and push that knitting class gave me, I’m going to miss the people in my class. Tuesday just won’t be the same without Clare’s predictions about who will be eliminated from Dancing with the Stars, or all of us comparing notes on restaurants around the metro. If it wasn’t for my knitting class, I wouldn’t have met any of those ladies—and I’m glad I met them.
So has this experience given me a lifelong love of knitting? I don’t think I’m good enough at knitting to say I love it, but I am getting there. In fact, I’m already daydreaming about my next project. Sometimes working on just one project at a time is a challenge. Especially when I’m thinking about learning to embroider…