I’ve been knitting on and off since I was taught by my mom about the age of five. I don’t remember it as love at first sight (who would love a clumsy-whiteandorangestripey- 15 cm long garter-stitch “scarf” made by a 5 yearold? Not even the knitter herself). But a couple of years later I was happily knitting traditional Norwegian mittens, or substituting the motifs with my own. There must have been a somewhat painful learning process inbetween, but for some reason that chapter is long forgotten.. When I moved away from home I was what I would call a “closet knitter” for several years. Yeah, there were other knitters in the dorm, and I did for sure wear handknit stuff, but I didn’t display my knitting basket (rather the opposite) or talk much, if anything about it. I usually knit when I was alone, and thanks to the leftovers of what was once my mom’s yarn store (yay!) I never bought any yarn, or patterns, or gadgets for that matter. I considered myself a fairly advanced knitter. I thought I knew a fair bit about it, and that really, there wasn’t that much to know because in the end it is just sticks and yarn, right?
That was all until I discovered the Internet Knitting Community. I may be slow, or old-fashioned, or just poorly equipped with fantasy (some people may say yes to all three), but I had NO IDEA about the electronic life of knitters worldwide until a year and a half ago.
Oh boy was I wrong. Oh boy is there a lot out there to learn, more than anyone could cover in a lifetime. And while the knitting I grew up with was sturdy, woolly, wearable and warm stuff for our cold climate, I was suddeny introduced to gorgeous lace, beaded masterpieces, new fibres, self-striping yarn and an endless world of patterns. Wow.
What used to be a dear hobby quickly and rapidly grew into an obsession fueled by the inspiration provided by all the wonderful knitbloggers out there. I now have a stash too large to hide, UFOs poking out in every direction under the coffee table, stacks of half-scribbled patterns, a constant stream of arriving parcels holding fibry goodies from near and far, and a boyfriend who once said, and I quote: “I wish I was a ball of yarn, then maybe you would give me some attention”.
Ouch.
It had to end with a blog.
