Die, Knitting, Die

So, I lied. I actually do want to be a domestic goddess. I do. I want to make cute yummy pastries, prepare fabulous meals, grow my own organic butternut squash on our balcony and sew cute Anthropologie aprons, Gymboree outfits and UPS uniforms for my family. Really, I do.

So much so, that I was willing to give knitting the good old fashioned second try. Perseverance, right? So I whipped out a knitting guide given to me by a friend. It is called, "I Can't Believe I'm Knitting!" See:

Knit like a pro in no time! it says. And look, that sweet girl knit all those wonderful goodies in probably less time than it takes to watch one episode of LOST. I can do this. I am envisioning the beautiful scarves I will give as gifts for people to ooooh and aaaah over, the sweet beanies atop my precious baby's head, the darling jumpers on petite little Grace (?) and the handsome sweaters I could make for Matt and Jake, even though they don't really wear sweaters. Ever.

This will be great, I think, as I open the book.

What the *&%$? "K6, P2, work, twist, blah, wah wah wah..." Why are they speaking in code??? Also, do I have to count?! That is kind of going to interfere with The Hills.

Do I really want to take advice from her, anyway? She knit herself into her own sofa, the idiot.

After deciding that this manual was not for me, Grace and I traveled to the library to find a different source of wisdom. I need a book that would speak to me and my way of thinking. You know, simple and pure, without unnecessary complications.

We found two books.

Right. "Kids Can Do It - Knitting" and "Kid's Knit, Simple Steps to Nifty Projects." Now we're talking. I quickly flipped through the pages of each of these in the library, saw the simple pictures and whipped out my library card.

These books were more my style. For example:

Yes! I totally know my left from right, without tattoos, and am therefore way ahead of the game! Afghans here we come!

Let me say that I was great at casting on. Like, awesome. I could cast on in the dark, while upside down and with my hands tied behind my back.

And yet. Then came the actual knitting. I can do the stitches okay (if completely loose or too tight is termed okay), but I noticed that as my masterpiece grew, it grew diagonally. I was either adding a stitch or removing a stitch as I when along.

(I think this is the spawn of the woman in the first book...? Brat.)

And while we are on the subject of growth. In my haste to want to have a very long scarf in a matter of minutes, I think I neglected that the scarf should actually size up to the neck which it adorns.

Oops. That is not my first piece, by the way. That, friends, is the result of many knits and unknits, tries and retries.

Matt, in his supportive way, laughed and said, "Maybe you could knit sweaters for all of those cupcakes you're going to bake." Oh, hardy. Hardy. Har. Har.

Even after encouraging emails from my aunt, knitter extraordinaire, I was sensing that perhaps this knitting business was not for me. As I pondered this, Grace in an act of simultaneous naughtiness and yet subconscious mercy, grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the yarn. The masterpiece was apparently complete.

Adding insult to injury, I kind of wanted to keep the small piece of crab (?) I had just knit, to compare it to my future knitting projects (??). You know, to see where I began. I looked in the books and tried to follow the directions for binding off, or whatever it is called, but as I started doing it, the loops kept falling off and I was having a lot of trouble getting one stitch over the other. Still not yet wanting to part with this piece, I had another idea.

I can almost hear them playing Taps, as the sun sets on my crafting career.