Slippers came, were worn through and immediately replaced with like kind. It was like a slower version of the 'Fruit of the Month Club.' There were times that I had more pairs of slippers than actual shoes. In my mind, I'd always have a bevy of slippers or someone to make them on my behalf. Knitting was for the elderly or spinster cat-ladies. Knitting wasn't something that I found exciting, or even remotely interesting... until recently.
I'd wanted a new hat, something to wear when hiking to keep my head warm, but with my round face most traditional hats aren't flattering unless they have a brim. I found a great solution on Etsy.com, but it was $25 for the hat or $5 for a pattern. "Hm... hats for me, hats for the niece hats for everyone," I thought.
The neighborhood in which I work has a quaint yarn shop, that always seems to be bustling with older women and gay men. It was the perfect place for me to get a start. I brought the pattern and asked the shopkeeper to help me get started. She looked at the pattern, asked if I'd knitted before and immediately suggested a class before embarking on "such an industrious project." I told her that I'd like to fiddle with it first, but would definitely consider a class. I left with $60 in supplies and a new spring in my step.
One of the homeowners in my building taught me how to cast on stitches, and walked me through the pattern section by section. "Here's how to knit," she said, "and this abbreviation just means that you knit two stitches together. When you get stuck, call me." Within two days the first hat was complete. She commented that I must be "genetically predisposed to knitting. Even (my) tension is good! You do NOT need the class!" The one hat magically turned into four and one matching scarf.
I've moved on to baby booties and acquired a set of antique rosewood needles. Much like everything I do, I've jumped in full force. This year my staff will have slippers, friends will have handmade somethings and I will be a little less fidgety, due to my new skills.