My grandma was a knitter. Obsessive, like me. Now in her 80s, her hands have failed her. They are arthritic and painful, and she no longer knits. I recall her teaching me to knit as a young girl. I have a blurry memory of a multi-colored skein of acrylic and lots of messy stiches.
I lived far from my grandma, and her knitting lessons never stuck. It wasn’t until years later that I again picked up the art, taught by a friend while traveling through Mexico. Despite our shared obsession, my grandma and I never had much of a chance to knit together. The thought of this loss of potential…hours we could have spent together knitting but never did…saddens me.
Some years ago, I ended up with a chunk of my grandma’s stash and a substantial collection of old issues of Vogue Knitting. All this time, it has been sitting in my hall closet. Alone.
To be honest, her destashed yarn hasn’t had much appeal to me. It isn’t what I would have chosen, but it has merit. I found myself between large undertakings over the weekend and picked up a skein of Fantacia Cin Cin. The label reads textured yarn from Italy, and it is a cottom synthetic blend in 50 g skeins. I thought at one time there might be enough for a tank, but I doubt there is. I think it might be decades old, but I am not entirely sure of its precise age or even its original purpose.
It is a nubbly yarn. Very textured. I am making a head band of sorts to wrap around my frizzy hair on those mornings when I must be out and about before showering and desire to hide my untidied hair from the world. It will be my own design. I will think of my grandma with each stitch.
This week I am participating in the Small Things Yarn Along with Ginny. Check it out. I am just starting to read a bunch of parenting books…