Knitted Brow

It is extremely disturbing for me to accept this, but... books lie. Especially the covers of Do it Yourself books or manuals. They are the worst - almost as bad as the tabloids in the supermarket check-out line or the endless parade of women's magazines that promise, I mean PROMISE that you will lose weight if you just follow this simple little formula buried on Page 183.

If you look closely at the print under the lying-through-the-teeth title of the above book, you will see, on the left side two little words that simply suspend belief: Simple Instructions. There is more but I really don't need to include any more because this is a simple enough little promise, isn't it?

The instructions are NOT simple. They are not clear, self-explanatory, easy to read, simple to understand, or broken down either! They are deceitful. There ought to be some kind of regulation about this blatant disregard for the truth here.

My intentions are completely ordinary. I want to learn to knit, again. I have these fantasies of creating knitted masterpieces for every member of my family - future heirlooms, treasures to be stroked lovingly with fond memories long after I am gone. I would like to throw together little scarves and sets of mittens, and sweater dresses for a few of my closest friends.

"Oh, you MADE that?" they will gush, when the handmade and exquisitely detailed garment is pulled from the coordinating tissue out of the carefully selected box. "Yes," I will say modestly, "I did."

So, maybe I got a little ahead of myself. First, I need to learn to "cast on." This is the process of actually getting the yarn onto the knitting needles. When the instructions were clear as mud the first time I read them, I decided to roll the skein of yarn into a nice ball, just like the professional knitters do - one must always start things off the right way.

Then I read it again.

"Do you know how to make a slip knot?" I asked Dan, who can actually tie fishing lures with needle nose pliers and both his thumbs. "No," he replied, looking quizzical. After all, I was a Girl Scout and should remember how to tie a slip knot. So I just played around with the yarn for awhile and then suddenly made a slip knot. I couldn't tell you how I did it - I was just ONE with the yarn. My fingers have muscle memory.

My guess is that you are then to create a series of slip knots all down the knitting needle. I say this because the book takes time to congratulate you on the slip knot, "it counts as your first stitch."

In Lesson 1, there is the "Thumb Method" and the "Two Needle Method" for casting on. I appreciate the variety, but I think they should have taken a little extra time to make at least ONE of these methods crystal clear to the novice user. They could leave the other method out.

After making the slip knot and placing it on the needle, you are to hold it with your right hand. Then...


Place short end of yarn (measured length) over the left thumb from front to back, and bring yarn from ball up and over left index finger, then hold both yarn ends in left palm with the 3 remaining fingers.

There is a picture. It took me 20 minutes, but I finally got what was in my hand look kind of like the picture. But then it gets worse.

Insert tip of needle under yarn on left thumb from front to back. Bring needle over and under strand on left index finger. Draw needle and yarn back through loop on thumb. Slip thumb out of loop and gently pull loose end to secure new stitch on needle.

One question: What new stitch?

I tried again. And again. I decided to let the whole thing "cool" for a couple of days.

I called Dustin over to help. He can take apart and reassemble a car engine. He can figure this out, I thought. Dustin furrowed his brow and read and looked at the knitting needles. Then left me for a date with some cute little Asian girl he met at work.

"Give up on knitting, Mom?" came his smart-aleck voice from the couch the other day. To my credit, I did not say, "Shut up!" to him. I bit my tongue and then replied, "No. I just time to figure this out."

"Oh," says Engine Boy, running upstairs to do something productive that I am pretty sure won't include knitting.

I took the whole "Learn to Knit" kit with me to bed the next night and sat there trying again to get this right. I didn't.

I am not stupid. I have two master's degrees and I was accepted into a Ph.D program for gawd's sake. I can write a perfectly-formatted APA-style position paper. I win big bucks on Jeopardy! every night. But I don't get this and I have to blame the book people. "Simple Instructions and Clear Diagrams" my smart toe! They lie, lie, lie! Just so they can sell their books and more yarn and silly little accessories, knowing you will be too embarrassed to bring the whole thing back for a refund.

The worst part isn't that I can't figure out how to knit using a lying and cheating book. It isn't the money or the embarrassment over the whole thing. The worst part is that the Lovely Brandine figured it out with a book on Christmas night. She called the next morning, very proud of herself.

Her book didn't lie. She just picked up those needles and did it.

I am sure I will be fine once I get past the "casting on" part. With all the muscle memory in my fingers, I am sure to just begin to knit - one stitch at a time, needles clicking away.

I either need Brandy's book or an empty drawer.