Winding the Skein: Folks, we are trying to coordinate the Comment threads, and are struggling a bit.
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Thank you to all of you who wrote email to congratulate us or comment. And thanks to J. L. for asking me to tell the story of My First Project -- as Ace so aptly noted: we all have our stories.
Frankly, it came out looking like a hippie poncho for a fashion-blind snake. “It” was ostensibly a scarf. “It” was in reality my mother’s successful plot to keep two kids (7 and 9) quiet on a long car trip.
My sister’s yarn was pink. Mine was blue. Our new aluminum needles matched: pink for her, blue for me. Mom cast on for us, and showed us the knit stitch. We knit. We knit, split stitches, bewailed our uneven edges, learned to reduce, split some more. These scarves became almost totemic. We dragged them with us across the continent to California. We discovered Red Heart yarn in the local craft shop and delighted in spending our allowance to add to our scarves. We were blissfully ignorant of colorways. We just knit what we liked. And purled. And knit/purled our initials into the fabric. Made raised hearts and sunken circles. Somewhere in the middle, I tried to make a buttonhole and ended up with a long, uneven slit down the center. Mysteriously, the scarf became narrower and narrower, until it finally petered out. Casting off was the final lesson.
I never wore that scarf. It may have been wrapped around some stuffed animals for a while. Where that scarf ended up I have no idea -- perhaps acquired by the fashion-optional snake -- but I know what it became: a fond memory, and the foundation for a lifetime of knitting.