Lessons From the Knitting Chair ~ Sometimes You Just Need to Tink

About eight months into my journey of finally-really-knitting I started thinking about Christmas. Oh the socks I would knit, oh the hats I would create!

So I picked a lace scarf pattern for my sister-in-law and got to work.

Yes, you read that right. A lace pattern. Because I did not have enough time to finish the socks and hats I had already planned. Why not add more?

We've already discussed how lace is not for beginners. Here's the thing: lace is not difficult, per se. It's just that it require focus. As in every stitch focus. You have to know not only what row you are on but which stitch. Or. Else. 

Ever tried to focus with a toddler around?

But I was determined to knit. After a rotten start on the scarf (I seem to recall I had to start from scratch twice) I decided that I had one rule and one rule only.

Don't give up. 

I can assure you that this did not mean don't mess up. Because I did.  A lot. But I didn't give up. And the way I managed to finish that scarf despite all my errors was by tinking.

What is tinking? How do you k-n-i-t backwards? You t-i-n-k!

When I discovered a mistake, I would painstakingly undo each stitch one by one, not by pulling it out, but by knitting (or purling or yarn-overing) backwards. Whenever the pattern looked normal again I would resume knitting normally.

I still tink when it comes to lace, but now I see my mistakes much faster. 

Lace washcloth needing a good tinking

Isn't tinking kind of like life with kids?

We go along and have our little routines, then bump! something is just not working. The pattern is not looking right, but you're not really sure what went wrong.

Usually this is because somebody has grown and changed and needs something different. All of a sudden you're looking at a big hole in your family's life pattern where one does not belong. So you tink. You back out of that misstep and find the thing that works for right now.

All better!

As a homeschooling mom I feel like I get a double dose of this. Not only am I undoing and redoing parenting stuff (oh look, child #2 is old enough to cook... time to change the chore chart!), I am also constantly looking for dropped stitches in each child's educational plan (good grief, this child needs more handwriting practice!)

It's not exactly like tinking, I know, because life's daily pattern is meant to change as time passes. But if the overall goal is a pattern of peace and life-giving in a family, it's not all that different.

All done!

 The bottom line is don't give up.

The scarf that taught me not to give up

Something beautiful is bound to come of it all.

Lessons from the Knitting Chair ~ Love is More Powerful Than Perfection

When I was hugely pregnant with The Princess (and I mean hugely), a sweet friend sat next to my massive form on the couch one afternoon, handed me two wooden needles and a ball of yarn, and taught me how to knit.

Being slow to warm up to projects of a creative nature (ahem), I immediately decided to knit a blanket. I wish I could blame it on pregnancy hormones, but this is a handicap that afflicts me regularly... if I can do it in miniature I get the wild idea that I can do it on a grand scale.

So I waddled off to the local craft shop, bought the only 100% cotton I could find, along with some hideous aluminum needles, and set to work. Naturally I picked a lace project.

If you don't know anything about knitting, let's just say that starting with lace is kind of like starting school by going to Harvard.  Who cares about kindergarten when you can go straight to college!

I did not finish that lace blanket in time for the baby's birth. It sat in my closet while I nursed and rocked, and homeschooled our oldest. Then my husband started traveling for his job. Then we moved. To a farm. And had another baby. And on and on like this... for six years we did things that required my hands and that made me hesitate to pull out the blanket. Note that perfectionism had nothing to do with my hesitation. Nothing at all.

But one day, I felt that blanket calling to me, and I decided that by sheer force of will I was going to finish it. Not only finish it, but finish it with a simplified pattern and with all the mistakes left unfixed.

This was huge.

Leaving mistakes is not natural for me. I do not like mistakes. I accept that they are going to happen, but I try to remedy them, not leave them intact.

My new goal had become to finish, not to perfect.

So on a March evening in 2008, I finally finished the blanket for my six year old baby.

I was utterly shocked when she swooned over it. I mean swooned. She gushed and oohed and aahed and made me feel like the best mama on the planet.

And when we evacuated because of the fire last September, it was one of the things she wanted to have with her.

Apparently my daughter understood that while I was knitting holes where they didn't belong and dropping stitches with that cotton yarn, I was also carrying a strand of love with each dip and twist of the needles.

If I hadn't embraced the mistakes and forged ahead, there would still be a pile of unfinished yarn in my closet.

If I hadn't just gone forward without regret, my Princess wouldn't have her treasured blanket.

Love covers a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8

All of messy muddled up me was in those loops of yarn and that was enough for my girl. Holes and all.