Look Mom, I’m Needling!

Several years ago, for my birthday, I decided to learn to knit. I had a small bag of knit baby clothes that had belonged to my father-in-law. His mother had made them for him. They were over 70 years old and in perfect condition. I never met his mother. She passed away several years before I even knew my husband existed. But I felt like I had a small piece of her with me when I wrapped my new baby up in one of her comfy little sweaters. I loved how the soft wool felt in my hands. The perfect little stitches were amazing. I wanted to make something my children could use to keep their babies warm.

I went to the craft store, bought some needles, bought some yarn, bought a how-to-knit book and started. It didn’t go very well. The yarn, needles, and book ended up being launched across the room in a fit of frustration. It landed against the railing to the stairs and it stayed there for several weeks. I eventually put it all in a plastic grocery bag and tucked it away in my closet.

A few years later I found that bag in the back of the closet. I decided to give it one more try. Things went a lot easier this time. Before I knew it, I had made a pair of fuzzy purple mittens for my daughter. They didn’t fit well, they were a bit crooked, and the thumb had a small hole in it. She loved them. I made her a matching hat and scarf. Then I made a second set in warm fall colors for my other daughter. She was so proud of them.

Not too long ago, my youngest decided to “needle” like mommy. Her little hands wrapped in yarn and a big pair of orange needles that had belonged to her Grandmother was too charming to pass up. It didn’t take her long to change course. She decided the needles were a perfect tool to dig up worms. I can’t help but wonder if she’ll decided to try “needle-ing” again. A part of me hopes she does. I have a bunch of needles. They would be perfect for her babies to dig up worms.