I have always wanted to work in lace but never had time to devote to a complicated pattern. I recently retired from my job and thought I would try a shawl for my first lace project. What a mistake! My husband was talking to me as I was trying to count my stitches. I am not usually given to language unfit for company but !@#!*^ good grief I was swearing like a sailor as I lost my place and miscounted my stitches. I don’t know if it was my husband’s interruptions or the ridiculously complicated pattern or that I’m just too old to learn to knit lace . . . or all of the above . . .
Sincerely,
@#!*^ in Buffalo
DEAR @#!*^,
When I think of knitting lace and miscounting stitches, I always think of Laura Ingalls Wilder (author of the Little House on the Prairie books). It was during the hard winter of 1800–1881 that thirteen-year-old Laura sat in her Pa’s storefront window with her knitting in her lap and exclaimed:
“Oh, bother! I’ve miscounted the stitches!”
Laura Ingalls Wilder (1867–1957)
She describes the scene for us in her book, The Long Winter.
Girl Knitting, by Albert Anker (1878)
“Oh, bother!” was as extreme as our heroine’s language in the Little House books would get. Laura Ingalls Wilder was careful to shield her young readers not only from harsh language, but from the harsher realities that she experienced in her own life. Her father’s unhappiness and hard luck in providing for his family were never portrayed in her stories, nor was the heartbreak of her baby brother’s death.
What Ingalls Wilder did share with her readers was the deep love she had for her family, and the simple enjoyment they took in helping each other to survive on the American frontier. It was a time and place that challenged men, women, and children alike. What does come through in Laura’s writing, is her strength and determination (goodness knows she needed them).
In her book, On The Banks of Plum Creek, in the chapter “The Glittering Cloud,” Laura describes what it is like to have hoards of “grasshoppers” descend on your land, blocking out the sun and eating everything in sight. Life on the prairie for the early pioneers was no picnic. To survive the onslaughts of droughts, blizzards, poverty, and a tsunami of insects, one had to have a fair share of pluck. One could not give in. One could not give up.
To survive the onslaughts of miscounted stitches while knitting lace, one must not give in. One must not give up.
Knitting lace can be exacting work, and any interruptions can lead to disaster, especially if you choose a more complicated pattern, which it sounds as if you did. When working on a lace project, concentration is everything, often leaving our companions talking to themselves, as poet Ogden Nash explains in his poem, “Machinery Doesn’t Answer You Either, but You Aren’t Married to It.”
I would recommend that you not give up lace knitting, but instead, put aside the shawl project for now. Begin with an easy pattern that you can memorize. Once you have mastered this simple project, you can advance to a more involved lace.
Laura never provided us with the pattern for her petticoat lace, but I think she would approve of this one for beginner lace knitters. It is simple and fast and can be used to adorn a variety of garments such as booties, mittens, wrist warmers, hats, scarves, and edging for sweaters and blankets and even tea cosies. The trick to adding lace to a ribbed edging is to stretch it out a bit while sewing it on, being careful to keep your ribbing stretchy. If you do miscount a stitch or lose your place, simply think of facing those clouds of grasshoppers and repeat after Laura, “Oh, bother!”
SIMPLE LACE EDGING
Let’s Begin!
Material: Yarn will depend on the garment you wish to add the lace to. The lighter the weight of the yarn the more delicate the lace will be. Contrasting colors may also add interest.
Needles: Depends on the weight of yarn you choose. For worsted weight I use a pair of straight US size 5 needles. For dk, I usually use a pair of straight US size 3. For fingering weight I go down to a US size 1 or 2.
Cast on 5 Stitches
Row 1: (Right Side) Sl 1, K4.
Row 2: Sl 1, K4.
Row 3: Sl 1, K1, KFB (knit front and back) 3 times. 8 stitches
Row 4: Bind off 3 stitches, K4. 5 Stitches remain.
Repeat Rows 1–4
Continue in pattern until you have the desired length of lace knit. Bind off.
P.S. As for your feeling too old to learn how to do something new, such as knitting lace, you might be surprised to discover that Laura Ingalls Wilder began writing her first book for the Little House series in 1932, when she was sixty-three years old. It seems that even in her later years, Laura still had plenty of pluck to spare.
Here she is at eighty-two years old signing books at Brown’s Book Store.
DEAR MRS. WICKS,
I am getting married next year and my fiance’s grandmother has offered to knit me a lace wedding shawl to wear for the day. I already have my gown picked out and it is quite formal. I am afraid a knit shawl would spoil the effect. When I explained this to my fiancé, we ended up arguing over it. He criticized me for being insensitive to his grandmother’s feelings. This only adds to my wedding jitters. Who is right? Who is wrong? And what should I do?
Sincerely,
Wedding Jitters in Washington
DEAR WEDDING JITTERS,
This dilemma reminds me of the late, great Katherine Hepburn’s words on marriage:
“If you want to sacrifice the admiration of many men for the criticism of one, go ahead, get married.” Katherine Hepburn (1907–2003)
It is the privilege of every bride to choose what she wishes to wear on her wedding day. While your fiancé’s grandmother may have had good intentions, it is not fair of her to put you in such an awkward position. I believe that Kate would agree that your fiancé’s criticism of you in this instance is most unfair. While Kate was an avid knitter, she actually was never married, so maybe we should turn to the other late, great Hepburn who also had something to say on the subject.
“If I get married, I want to be very married.” Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993)
Audrey Hepburn knew a thing or two about the institution, since she tried it twice. One could take her words “to be very married,” to mean to have a strong marriage. There is one thing that every strong marriage is based on, and that is compromise. This could be an opportunity for you and your fiancé to give it a try, before you tie the knot.
A hand-knit lace shawl can be a work of art, taking hours of dedication to complete. If someone’s heart was open, enough to offer such a gift, perhaps there is a way to accept it. Why not explain that you have already chosen your wedding day attire but would love to have the shawl as part of your honeymoon wardrobe? You can wear it, or not, and no one’s feelings will be hurt, unless Granny is going along on the honeymoon.
. . . and the bride wore a fleece.
In 2009, award-winning English sheep breeder, Louise Fairburn, made the rare choice to get married in a fleece from her own flock.
“I just wanted to prove that you could do something fantastic out of the yarn and ended up with something that was beyond my wildest dreams.”
Asked about how she decided on the dress, she said “I suppose I am sheep-crackers, but the idea just came to me and I designed the dress myself with a little bit of help.” The help for putting the dress together came in the form of a spinner and a dressmaker. The corset was crocheted with beads, while the skirt was a flowing cloud of lustrous long-haired wool from Louise’s favorite sheep, Olivia.
On seeing her in her long-haired wedding dress for the first time, the groom said, “I took one look at her, my lip curled like a young sheep’s does and I started blubbering.” He too sported attire from the flock in the form of a natty woolen waistcoat.
Of course the wedding cake had to have a wooly theme as well.
DEAR MRS. WICKS,
For my birthday this year I was hoping for an engagement ring from my boyfriend of six years. Instea
d, he gave me a kitten. I like cats all right, but I really wanted the ring.
Since my boyfriend says he’s commitment shy because he’s never felt loved, I thought that if I knit him a sweater, he would surely feel loved and soften to the idea of marriage. The sweater took me almost three months to knit. The pattern was fine, but I made a big mistake in my choice of yarn. I used an acrylic because I was tempted by the color and the cheap price.
But the sweater knit up so stiff that my boyfriend made a face when he tried it on. He has never worn it. He says it’s just too stiff and scratchy. I am sick at the bad choice of yarn I made and the thought of all those stitches gone to waste. Meanwhile, there is still no engagement ring on the horizon. More nights than not it’s just me alone with the cat, and my knitting. Any suggestions on what I can use the yarn for when I rip this thing out?
Sincerely,
Tempted and Disappointed in Delaware
“I generally avoid temptation unless I can’t resist it.”
Mae West
DEAR TEMPTED,
Bad choice indeed! And it sounds like not just in your yarn. But let us begin there. Beware the acrylic floozy is a warning all knitters should heed. For though she may dazzle you with her color and tempt you with her easy price, in the end she’ll break your heart and leave you wishing you’d never had her on your needles.
The hard truth is that some acrylic yarns have a rigid, plastic feel to them, and even those that are blended with natural fibers do not shed this stiffness. I recently fell victim to a purchase of such a blend. I think part of the appeal was the picture of the alpaca on the label. It lulled me into thinking that I was buying a natural fiber at half the price, while in reality 70 percent of it was acrylic.
Although the 30 percent alpaca did supply some softness, in the end, the stiff feel of the acrylic was too much. I ended up ripping out the scarf I had begun and used the yarn to make cat toys instead. This would be the perfect solution for you, your yarn, and your cat.
Cat toys can make good use of those projects that have gone south as well as leftover yarns. Fill them with fresh catmint (you can grow your own), and your cats will go crazy for them.
CATMINT FISH FRY FOR KITTY
Let’s Begin!
Material: Teeny amounts of worsted weight Yarn, acrylic, wool, or cotton.
Needles: US size 5 Straight Needles
Roving, yarn, or fiberfill for stuffing. Catmint from your garden or from a friend’s garden. Catmint (Nepeta faassenii) and catnip (Nepeta cataria) are in the mint family. They are one of the easiest perennials to grow in your garden or in a pot. Pick the catmint when the leaves are large enough. You can pull individual leaves and set out to dry for several days (away from your cat) or cut stalks and hang to dry. You can also freeze the leaves for future toys.
Pattern is for plain fish but you can easily stripe them by changing color ever second row.
Cast on two stitches.
Row 1: KFB (Knit in Front and Back of same stitch) to end (4 stitches).
Row 2: K1 row.
Repeat rows 1 and 2 until 14 stitches on needle.
K3 rows.
Begin Decrease: SSK (Slip 2 Stitches as if to Knit and then K together) Knit to last two stitches, K2 together. (12 stitches.)
K1 row.
When you feel yourself giving in to temptation and making bad choices, in romance as well as yarn, try to think ahead to the outcome, for as Robert Lewis Stevenson reminded us,
“Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.”
Robert Lewis Stevenson (1850–1894)
Repeat last 2 dec. rows until 4 stitches remain.
K1 row.
KFB knit to last stitch KFB (6 stitches).
K1 row.
KFB. Knit to last stitch. KFB (8 stitches).
K1 row.
Bind off.
Make a second fish.
Stitch two fish together leaving opening.
Stuff with stuffing of choice and catmint.
Sew shut.
Knit I-cord and attach (optional)
Giving in to the charms of an acrylic floozy is much like giving in to the charms of a dysfunctional boyfriend. Even though his commitment phobia is right there for you to read on his label, you may be too starry-eyed to see it. Mistaking romance for real love can be a heartbreak and such a waste of your time. In the end, the relationship you’ll be left with will be as ill-fitting and uncomfortable as that scratchy acrylic sweater you wasted so many hours on.
Begin with the right yarn for the project and the right person for the relationship and you will have saved yourself much grief. But on the occasion you do misstep and make the wrong choice, just remember . . . “As ye knit, so shall ye rip.” Anonymous.
Take heart for in love as in fiber, you can learn from your mistakes and always have another go at it.
P.S. Many years ago when I first learned to knit, I had made a bad yarn choice and went ahead and knit up a nasty, scratchy 100 percent acrylic scarf for the then young Mr. Wicks. The dear boy wore the thing an entire winter without a complaint because he knew how hard I had worked on the project. That is the difference between romance and true love. Surely every knitter who knits out of love deserves the same in return.
A Girl Knitting, by Segantini Giovanni (1888)
DEAR MRS. WICKS,
I was recently at a family picnic and mentioned to someone that I’d like to learn to knit. My mother-in-law overheard me and offered to give me lessons. The problem is my mother-in-law and I had an argument several months ago. I still find it hard to forgive her, much less want to sit down and have her teach me anything. But I was too embarrassed to refuse her offer. I still want to learn to knit, just not from her. What should I do?
Sincerely,
Unforgiving in Montana
DEAR UNFORGIVING,
I know you will find this hard to believe, but knitting lessons from your mother-in-law could very well be just the relationship therapy that you two need. Knitting what has been tattered between you could benefit both you and your family. As for forgiveness, let us turn to Catherine the Great who was wise enough to put it quite simply:
“The more a man knows the more he forgives.” Catherine the Great, Emperor of all Russia (1729–1796)
By offering to teach you to knit, your mother-in-law is offering you an olive branch. You should take it. Learn to knit, try to forgive, and move on.
Mrs. Wicks the Younger Meets
Mrs. Wicks the Elder
My own mother-in-law, the elder Mrs. Wicks, was not what you would call a cozy person. In truth, she was a rather prickly sort and given to strong and often sour opinions. On my wedding day she took my father aside to tell him that she thought my marrying her one and only son a huge mistake! I was a young girl of nineteen and had no hopes of my relationship with this prickly Wicks ever warming after that.
The nut of it was that we were two very different peas in two very different pods. Mrs. Wicks the Elder was a crisp dresser, fitting herself into straight lines and stripes, while Mrs. Wicks the Younger felt at ease in baubles and lace. The elder craved order and stuck to rigid schedules, while the younger looked forward to the surprises of an unscripted day. So there we were facing off, Mrs. Wicks the Elder looking for all the world like the president of the Daughters of the American Revolution, while Mrs. Wicks the Younger looked like she just stepped off a pirate ship after having a rather too good time with the captain.
Much like her attire, Mrs. Wicks the Elder kept a no-nonsense house where every cup matched every saucer. Dust and dirt were routinely routed out and couch pillows regularly plumped into submission. Portraits of George and Martha Washington hung in gold frames over the mantel in the museum-like living room.
Meanwhile in the shambles of an old house that we younger Wicks lived in, things could not have looked more different. You might say we had a spontaneous verve to our decorating style back then, as we tie dyed sheets for the living room curtains a
nd hung little white Christmas tree lights from the ceiling that first summer. We took an old door and propped it up on four cinderblocks, threw an Indian bedspread over it, and called it our dining room table. It never occurred to me that my mother-in-law would be mortified to have to sit on a pillow on the floor when we invited her to dinner. It was plain to everyone that a warm mother-in-law–daughter-in-law bond was never going to happen for us—that is until the knitting lessons.
One night we were invited to dinner at my in-laws’ house. I dreaded these dinners as the conversation always seemed so stilted. Mrs. Wicks the Elder and Younger seemed to have nothing to say to one another. After the meal, it was decided that we’d all go for a walk. The weather had turned chilly and I didn’t have a sweater with me. The elder Mr. Wicks went to the hall closet to get some sweaters for us. He handed me a thick white cardigan with intricate cables and designs.
“What a beautiful sweater!” I gushed.
“It’s an Aran Fisherman knit,” the elder Mrs. Wicks explained. “I knit it a few years ago.”
I didn’t know she was a knitter, much less such an accomplished one. “I’d love to learn to knit like this,” I blurted out.
“Well you can have your first lesson tonight,” she offered.
All through the lesson I plied her with questions. “Who taught you to knit? How long did it take you to learn? Where do you buy your yarn? etc., etc.
Suddenly, there was so much to talk about, and it didn’t stop there. Over the next few months, the more lessons we had together, the more conversations we shared. My perceptions of Mrs. Wicks the Elder began to change. I now understood that she was an older woman who had much to teach me. She could bake bread, knit a sweater, and plant a garden, all things I hoped I learned to do myself one day.
In between lessons on how to cast on and how to bind off, she shared stories about her troubled childhood and the hard times she had as a young woman alone in the world. For the first time, I didn’t see her as just my over-bearing mother-in-law, but as a woman who had overcome many struggles in her life. I found myself able to forgive some of the slights I thought I might never forgive. I think she began to see me in a new light as well.