Monday, September 20, 2010

How To Tie A Weaver's Knot

Since Matty has been ill I have taken up knitting again. It helps that I have a small person to knit for even if she did have to wait a whole year before receiving a sweater.

Everyone thinks that I still knit like a child and indeed I find myself chanting,

In through the bunny hole
Round the big tree
Under the bridge
And off goes she!

Years and years ago I used to knit stripey sweaters on circular needles. They ranged from husband-sized ones (shades of green, white and blue) to premature baby ones (yellow & turquoise, red & white) for little Laura, now Mrs L with her own baby on the way. I've cast one of those on for Miss Martha even though I've totally forgotten what to do when I reach the raglan stage. I'm sure it will come back to me. If not I can google it, or turn it into a hat.

That is, if the pup doesn't eat it first. Honestly there is no depth to which that dog will not lower itself. She can open the fridge and help herself to dog food. She has set up a shoe chewing factory at the top of the stairs and she is chomping on Hannah's jigsaw pieces. We came in from Miss Martha's birthday tea yesterday to find fourteen foot of purple wool festooned around the place. It all led to my knitting, only lightly chewed, though heavily slabbered upon.

Matty takes a great interest in our knitting projects and said to me on Saturday,

I've just realised you will all need to know about weaver's knots. I have to pass it on.

And she showed me this deft little knot that she used when she worked a loom in the Old Bleach. And she made it look so easy.

I couldn't wait to get back home and show Bert.

Matty showed me how to make a weaver's knot. She says she has to pass it on to all of us before she dies.

She did not! You're making that up.

I am not. She said we all needed to know how to make a weaver's knot and that she had to pass it on. You're jealous, aren't you, that your Ma has nothing good to pass on to you?

Below the belt I know, but true, for Pearlie has no good skill and, if she had, she could not be arsed to pass it on.

So I tried to show Bert but couldn't remember the exact way of it. On to the internet we went and printed out a diagram. We tried and tried but couldn't get it right. On to YouTube we went and watched demos with our pieces of yarn in front of us. Still no good.

Later that evening I lamented to Leitrim Sister that I couldn't get the hang of it. She said,

You'll just have to get Matty to show you again.

So I did. And she did. And, by jove, I got it. I've made several since then. By the way the diagram and the YouTube demo worked for Bert. He got it before me.


curious said...

You made me one of those stripey jumpers - it was the colours of sweet peas and I cherished it greatly. How lovely that Martha has a secret skill to share with you.

Nelly said...

I remember that jumper too. I can see it in my mind's eye now.

Anonymous said...

Those 'passing-ons' of the trick to getting something right are precious.

Somewhere in my boxes of letters and mementos that I cannot part with, I have an old envelope. Written on the back of it are the instructions on how to turn the heel of a sock, courtesy of my dear Aunt Clare. Whenever I look at that, I'm back in the kitchen, hearing her voice, seeing her smile. I remember the sock and the boy I was smitten enough with to warrant the perfect heel. And I'm sixteen. Not 77.

Nelly said...

That is so evocative. My younger sister, under Matty's tutelage, was turning the heel of her first ever sock when I went to visit yesterday. Dede is in her late forties. She recently got a First Class degree at college. A time of achievement for Dede proving to us all you're never too old to learn something new.

Neal said...

I'm going to try this when I get home. If I end up in a&e having tied a knot in my fingers, I'll know who to blame.