The story of Three Irish Girls… a fairy tale. Part two.
Saturday, January 31, 2009 at 7:35AM Read part one here.
Trying to hide her disappointment, the gangly girl took her two inches of ugly knitting and put it into the squeaky top drawer of her dresser, hoping no one would ask to see it.
She tried again the next day. Buoyed by her ability to at least complete the knit stitch, she kept working on her little dishcloth for most of the morning, completing three more inches.
Three days later, she picked up her dishcloth again and tried to add a few rows, only to discover she had forgotten how to knit. She tried consulting her Learn to Knit booklet, but the diagrams didn't look like what the shop owner had taught her to do. Frustrated, she decided to wait until her next knitting class to ask for help.
At the yarn shop, the other class members happily showed off their completed dishcloths. Several had moved on to the next project in the booklet: a wool pot holder. When it was the girl's turn to share, she didn't want to hold up her tiny dishcloth, still on the needles. "I had a little trouble," she mumbled to the group.
"Let me see that," the owner said, taking the blue cotton from the girl's hands. The owner began knitting very quickly, talking all the while to the rest of the group. "Tonight we're going to learn how to bind off, and how to make the purl stitch," she announced. "If you haven't started already, we're going to choose some yarn for our pot holders." She motioned toward the shelf behind her. "You want to choose a color from this section of yarn here." She continued to knit, and gestured to the girl, indicating that she too should choose a color of wool for a pot holder.
After the other women had made their selections, the girl purposefully headed toward the shelves full of wool, selecting the dark spruce color she had eyed months before.
"Good, OK, let's learn about binding off," the owner announced, handing back the dishcloth to the girl. Amazingly, three perfect inches had been added to the cloth in the short time the class had been making their selections.
It wasn't the first time the girl had needed help to finish a project. There was the stamped, quilted pot holder she made in second grade. When her teacher had told them to make small quilt stitches around the perimeter of the red tulip, the girl struggled to keep her stitches looking even while all the other students raced through the stitching. I want it to look nice, not like a second grader did it, she remembered thinking.
There was also the nine-patch pillow top she made in the fourth grade. Another color disappointment: the peaches and light blues would match nothing in her house, and she never finished the pillow.
The yarn shop owner showed them how to knit two stitches, then bring the first knit stitch over the second knit stitch. The girl found this much easier than casting on, and within minutes had finished binding off her dishcloth.
She studied her creation. One end was much wider than the other. The section where she had bound off felt very tight compared to the cast on edge. There were a few small holes, and a big loop on the edge of one side that didn't seem to belong anywhere. She tried not to think about it and instead focused on the beautiful pot holder she was about to make.
The instructor used the girl's yarn and needles to cast on as she was talking to the class about the purl stitch. She told them to knit a row, and then she would show them how to purl back. The girl found purling easier than expected and was able to keep up with the class as they knit and purled, knit and purled.
"This yarn is much easier for me to knit with," the gangly girl mentioned to the group.
"Me too," several others murmured in response.
"That's because wool is naturally stretchier than cotton, and it's easier on your hands. It's more forgiving," the owner replied.
By the end of the night, she had knit and purled five inches of a blue-green pot holder. The color would definitely not match her mother's kitchen, but she didn't care. She loved it.
Eager to show her night's work to her mother, she left the yarn shop and hurtled into the cold darkness. The parking lot was nearly empty, save for the students leaving the class and heading to their own cars. Why wasn't her mother waiting in the warm car, like last time?
The girl turned to wait inside the double doors of the building, trying to stave off the cold that made the inside of her nose feel frozen and her eyes water. The door was locked. She stamped her feet, hoping her mother would come soon and she wouldn't have to wait all night, dying of hypothermia.
Soon enough, she heard the familiar zip of her parent's station wagon coming down the road that intersected with the parking lot. Her dad pulled up to the door, honking the horn. Didn't he see her standing there? Honking wasn't necessary.
At home, she found her mother reading in bed. "How'd it go?" her mother called to her.
"Fine," the girl said. She showed her mother the beginnings of a pot holder.
"Very good!" her mother said. "Your stitches look so nice!"
"Thanks," the girl said. "I like this yarn better than the other yarn."
"What are you going to make with this?"
"A pot holder. I have to knit a really long rectangle and then fold it over and sew up the edges."
"That will be great," her mother said.
The next day, the girl noticed a small hole in the left side of the pot holder. Unable to fix it, she continued knitting a little each day. I can just sew the hole shut when I'm done, she thought.
By the night before her final class, she had knit ten inches of her pot holder. She was determined to finish the project, and determined to learn how to cast on so she could begin a new project: the sweater of her dreams.
The next day dawned bright and frigid. Sunny skies in the winter only meant one thing: Unbearable temperatures.
The day also brought a stomach virus that made the girl feel dizzy and weak. My knitting class, the girl thought. My last knitting class.
She would have to miss it.
Keep reading...
Chit Chat 
Reader Comments (9)
Another "Cliff Hanger, hanging from a cliff! And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger!" (props to PBS and the "Between the Lions" show)
I'm feeling for this little girl yet love her tenacity and spirit. I recognize the feelings of the honking of the horn.
If I had a yarn shop and had a child as a student, I'd never let her be alone to wait for her ride.
I remember when I first learned to knit, that I couldn't cast on to save my life and was challenged by the actually stitches, but casting off was easy-peasy. I always thought it was just me.
This is why I'm so intimidated to learn how to knit... now as an adult I'm SUCH a perfectionist. If I can't get it perfect the first time, why try? I'll only hate my first creations, and it feels so sad that I'd dislike something I'd made myself.
Yes I'm way over thinking this.
Can't wait for part three!
Man, that teacher was not really very good..
I've been cliffhangered again! I hope it all works out.
But, but, what happened next? You can't just leave the gangly girl hanging like this! What happens next!!
has a virtually endless list of manufacturers, models and vintages that is so comprehensive that you will find yourself trying to catch it out by looking for your old cars on there as well as downloading the guide for your current one. With this information to hand, all you need to concern yourself with is downloading the correct manual and keeping the information close to hand for the hopefully rare occasions when a fault occurs.
I've read some posts and i like your blog.I'm just starting up my own and only hope that i can write as well , thanks!.
help my computer says part 4 is not available!!!