May I touch your yarn?


My yarn and needles

As you can now observe in the above picture, much wool has passed through my fingers since I wrote first about my entree into the creative arts of handknitting a yarn more than a week ago now.  How the time flies when one knits!

The proof of my initial lack of dexterity clearly show in the bottom rows that are uneven and a bit shaky, unsure of the needle actually going under the thread and still having to remember pulling the wool with my right hand over the left needle, and than pulling in down between both needles before inserting the right needle again under the next stitch to be transferred to the same needle, thereby transferring the whole knitted yarn to the other needle.

The indefinite repeat of the same action will finally make perfect my knitting skills and this is what I fervently hope for, keeping in mind my creeping elderly with increasing age and at the same time mindfulness of maintaining clear sight and finger gymnastic manipulations of the yarn. There is a lot in knitting that a casual observer might well not be aware of when watching women knitting.

I mention ‘women knitting’ because as it turned out, men came, through their rampant and aggressive hormones ( not their fault)  to drive locomotives, work in abattoirs cutting carcases, create domestic violence, or bomb cities while women with such flowing all roundness and softness, turned the carers who knit, feed men, and by and large do so many good things, including running Governments like in Finland (Voted the happiest country).

The idea of my doing knitting came about because I so often watched Helvi knit but rarely stood still wondering what it felt like. As I said, we were taught to knit when at school and by my mother. So, I thought, nothing lost and everything to gain, to try it out. I am very happy I did, and nothing is more helpful making friends than knitting in public which I tried two days ago inside a large shopping centre close by.

‘ Milo’ my Jack Russell too was instrumental in getting friends as, especially women, thought he was so adorable and often asked me if they could pat him. It struck me then that no one ever thought I was also cute and open for patting but that is for an other article to explore. There is so much still to make sense off and so little time…

As I sat down with my knitting it did not take long when people stopped and looked at my knitting. I tried to act as normal as possible as if it was something I did to while away the time. I had gone and bought before settling down with my bag of wool and knitting, a carton of chicken nuggets from KFC, something I did for the first time ever. I wanted to appear as normal and average as possible. I had reconnoitred the site before and found a seat in full view of shoppers leaving a big Woollies supermarket not far from a busy butcher shop. Soon, a woman stopped, and asked me how long I had been knitting. I told her that I had just started as I knew that an expert’s eye could soon see that my knitting was not top knot. It was nice to be able to chat. Soon she reached out and felt my yarn and asked what size needles I was using. It felt normal and who would have thought it so easy to make contact with the opposite sex. I mean, what a discovery to get to have contact with people.

No men stopped and asked!

Who would have thought to get such friendly experiences?  And all those years I wanted to become a burly rugby (with funny oblong ball) player to be seen as a real man.

What next? Learn dancing again?

27 Responses to “May I touch your yarn?”

  1. Yvonne Says:

    I like those colours, Gezza.

    I am knitting a sweater, with one red and one orange sleeve. The front is green the back is navy. Begone, dull winter colours!

    Liked by 1 person

    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Yes, bright colours is what is needed. I am looking for second had yard in op shops, the salvoes and others but find that most of the yarn available is very pale or insipid.
      My jumpers are dark blue and only one is a fawn colour.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. leggypeggy Says:

    I think you’re on to a winner.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Therese Trouserzoff Says:

    A very engaging yarn, here, Gez.
    I have to admire your strategy. If it works out you get a throw and a female companion / teacher into the bargain. A match made in a haberdashery.

    My Mum knitted for Australia. People asked her what brand of machine did she have. She never had one. She agreed to teach me but we called a truce when I had only mastered dropping stitches – aka knitting triangles.

    Mum knitted in front of the TV. This drove Dad to drink. Perry Mason clickety clickety click.

    I moved to Wagga in the early 80s so she knitted a massive North Sea polo neck jumper with really fat wool and needles the size of sculling oars. If it wasn’t minus 6 outside I was risking heatstroke wearing it. I had a beard and the polo neck used to make me itch like a bastard.

    But I still have it- forty years later and it sits quietly in my wardrobe daring me to take it to Vinnies.
    No way, Gez.
    All the best cobber.

    Liked by 4 people

    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Yes, the females are very impressed and caress my yarn, often with great sensitivity. The males walk by and scowl much to my advantage, Trouserzoff.

      My mum knitted in between everything else. Gee, she worked so hard, yet dad after work, would sink in his armchair and have a cigarette. Men often pretend they work so hard they deserve and feel they have the right to demand a lot in return. No wonder the woman gets a headache.

      I still have socks that my mother knitted. Helvi always pointed them out. She too was a great knitter and was known at school as so capable she would knit using match sticks as needles…

      Helvi too could knit blindfolded. I will never reach that level though. Too fearful to loose a stitch. At my latest count I now have three more stitches on the needle than when I started out with 65 stitches now 68.

      I badly need someone to teach me a few tricks with the yarn and am looking forward to a nice expert woman leaning over me and guiding the needle into the stitch with just enough leeway and tension so that the yarn fits loosely on the needle, making it easy to slide it up and down…


      • Therese Trouserzoff Says:

        On the matter of women being productive 7×24 and blokes going on the bludge, Mum went back to full time work when I was nine. Dad worked hard as a toolmaker and he was exhausted at the end of the day and flopped in his chair reading and smoking.

        No brothers or sisters. It was my job to have the dinner on the table when they both got home about 7:00pm. I say “dinner” but being skips we ate meat and three veggies. Which is well within the ability of a nine year old who has spent the last four hours watching TV and doing ten minutes of homework.

        Once Mum knocked off early and sprung Dad sitting in the car next to the park on the George’s River at East Hills – Reading and smoking.

        She was livid. Incandescent. And gave him a sizeable piece of her mind for “bludging off his primary school kid”.

        But I do not recall having the domestic load taken off me until Mum quit work when I was doing the HSC.

        A few years later Dad spent two months in hospital and was diagnosed as an insulin dependent Type 2 Diabetic, so maybe he really was exhausted most of the time.

        Liked by 2 people

      • gerard oosterman Says:

        No doubt lots of men worked their heads off. I worked in factories soon after arrival when I was 15. First just sweeping factory floor and ordering lunches for the workers, later on learning to work lathes and milling machines.
        Mum always cooked while dad would do the pancakes about twice a year or so.
        Washing the dishes was my job and till this day I like it. A bit like knitting really, relaxing.


  4. Curt Mekemson Says:

    Laughing Gerard, good for you. I am reminded of Rosey Grier, the powerful LA Rams lineman who took up crocheting in the 1970s and even wrote a book on it. Why not! –Curt

    Liked by 2 people

  5. auntyuta Says:

    Learn dancing again? I think, that is a good idea! 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  6. doesitevenmatter3 Says:

    HA! So glad your yarn got touched and your needle-size was inquired about! 😉 😛

    The colours you’ve chosen fit so well together and are beautiful! Keep knitting! Practice makes perfect! And please let us see your completed project. 🙂

    Dancing!!! Ooh, yes, you must dance again! 🙂
    PATS for you!!!
    HUGS for Milo!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Yes, even today, Sunday people visited me and apropos I showed my knitting. It’s pretty rough but even so it is growing in length and it might well take at least 6 month to get my throw-over rug.

      I don’t know about dancing . Nowadays dancing seems very restless, people jigging about and the sound so loud one can feel the sound as well as hear it.

      How are you going, Carolyn? Do you dance or did in the past. In the days I took dancing lessons the place was above a milk-bar and called a ‘Dancing ACADEMY”

      The teacher was very nice and looked very soft but I never got to really experience her softness because we had to have a book between our chests while dancing.

      Liked by 1 person

      • doesitevenmatter3 Says:

        We’re doing well. Grateful for so much. 🙂
        I’ve always enjoyed dancing. 🙂 I took some dance classes when I was a teenager. 🙂
        HA! on the book! 😮 I’ve heard stories like that, but never experienced any such thing.
        I heard at Catholic schools they told the kids, while dancing, to leave enough room between them for The Holy Ghost. 🙂


  7. shoreacres Says:

    If only we lived closer to one another, and you had taken up knitting sooner. When my mother died, part of my inheritance was about 27 big plastic tubs filled with yarn of every size and color. I mailed boxes of it to knitting friends around the country — it wouldn’t have been worth it to mail it to you because of the cost, but you certainly would have been a worthy recipient.

    My mother was quite the knitter — I still have some sweaters that came from her hand. She knit doll clothes for me, and she knit an entire dress my senior year in high school. When she was about 80 years old, she fell forward in the kitchen and put a doorknob between her thumb and forefinger. Needless to say, she put both out of commission. When the orthopedic surgeon began working with her, he asked how much function she wanted to regain, and she said, “I want to be able to knit.” He wasn’t sure she could do it, but she did. Age and infirmity don’t have to be an impediment!

    Liked by 3 people

    • gerard oosterman Says:

      Yes, I am on the look-out for more yarn and need at least another 6 balls of 200 gram to make this rug which will than be 1.6 kilo in weight, including the two balls I bought so far. I do hope I can get the same wool as the balls have vibrant colours all spun on the same yarn.
      I wonder if knitting is getting a revival now with the imposition of lock-downs and social isolation?

      Fingers now are busy clicking on iPhone and not needles. Also I noticed so often people carrying drinks and foods in their hands. It seems that crossing a road or walking to the shop is so hazardous and fraught with chances of perishing, that food and drinks have to be taken along, just in case!

      I rarely see open air knitting, yet I don’t think a law has passed banning public knitting as well, due to the corona virus.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. rangewriter Says:

    Gerard, you are set for adventure. With the babe magnet, Milo, at your feet and that alluringly touchable wool in your hands, you may have to employ those needles to fend off unwontened advances!


  9. freefall852 Says:

    As you know, Gerard…one is never too old to trip the light fantastic!…


  10. gerard oosterman Says:

    I am not too old for doing a rumba but I would rather go for a walk now-a-days.

    Liked by 1 person

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