I come from good solid pioneer stock – old Texas women who wore pioneer bonnets, who worked hard, and all the time. Who gave birth, then got right up and finished making the biscuits. They made things because they had to, and they made them with whatever they had around, and as quickly as they could because they had to get back to work. Want to see?

my great-grandmother (2nd from the right), Lottie Ribble Askew

When my sister and brother and I were young, our mother sewed our clothes. But no one in my family did much handwork to speak of. None were artists, or very focused on a creative life. I don’t know why, but I LOVED handwork, from a very young age. I remember going to preschool, age 4 I guess, carrying my plastic fake-tortoise-shell-brown sewing box. I embroidered pillowcases, using iron-on transfers for the designs. Butterflies and spring flowers, as I recall, embroidered way too tightly. As much as I loved to embroider, I loved even more to organize my supplies.

The summer before I turned 6, I was visiting my grandparents (Mom and Big Daddy). I’m not at all clear on the relations, but I went to visit my Aunt Meecie. She must’ve lived in the neighborhood, because I think I walked. Aunt Meecie was a crocheting fool. Everything in her house was crocheted, or covered with crochet. She gave me a hook and a skein of undoubtedly ugly acrylic yarn, and showed me how to chain stitch. This story is on my About page.

When I was 21 I decided to teach myself to knit. It felt so awkward, so difficult, especially compared to the simplicity and speed of crocheting. One hook made sense, two needles were difficult. I persisted, knitted two large Christmas stockings, and one sweater, and then let knitting languish. I taught myself to sew, and made all the clothing for my 3 little kids and myself, and shirts for my husband. I taught myself to spin, to weave. I taught myself how to quilt, and how to make bobbin lace. I taught myself how to tat, and how to do smocking. I’ve always loved making things by hand.

Then a couple of decades later I found myself living in Manhattan, accommodating myself to what that means (among the list: having absolutely no room!). Knitting can easily work within this constraint; needles don’t take up any room, and stash can be tucked here and there, behind the books, under the bed, between the shelf and the wall, etc. So I picked it up again, after such a long, long time, and I haven’t been able to stop. Who knew knitting was so addictive! It’s still not as intuitive as crochet, perhaps because I learned to crochet first. But I knit almost every single day, and those days I don’t knit feel strange, like something is missing.

The blogger who organized this blogging event, Eskimimiknits, came up with a tagging system so you can easily read all these posts. Just search Google for knitcroblo1, or click here, because I’ve done it for you.