Slip One
By Canonette
- 4476 reads
Slip one, knit one, purl two…
“Nan, I think I’ve dropped a stitch again.”
The clickety-clack of Nan’s needles pauses, as she stares at me over her thick glasses.
“Not again, Rose. You need to learn to pick up stitches - you manage to drop enough of them.”
“Sorry,” I say, as I pass the half-finished scarf over to her.
The gas fire is on full blast and I’m glad to have some respite from the stifling layer of knitting. It makes me think of Rapunzel’s hair, it’s so long and heavy; a tangle of fibres that make no sense to me at all.
My nan is an ace knitter. She can knit, drink a cup of tea, smoke a fag, do the crossword and watch Emmerdale Farm, all at the same time. Which is what she’s doing now. I wish she wouldn’t blow cigarette smoke near my wool, though. I’ll have to put a bar of soap in the bag to make it smell nice.
“You might be able to knit better if you took some of that jewellery off – it sounds like you’re playing the tambourine,” she says, looking at my arms full of bangles. “And I don’t know how you can lift your head with all those bloody earrings in.”
Nan does NOT approve of the way I dress. “Girls tried to look pretty in my day,” she says with a tut and shake of her granny permed head.
“I don’t want to look like a Barbie doll, Nan.”
“That’s good, because you look like the Bride of Dracula. You gave Mrs Williams the fright of her life when you answered the door to her!”
I laugh. Mrs William’s face had been an absolute picture. I thought her false teeth might fall out.
“Who are you knitting this for, anyway? The colours are bit conservative for you.” She weighs me up with her eyes.
“Stop fishing for information, Nan - we’re just friends.”
“Friends! You don’t knit scarves for ‘just friends’ – not if you’re as bad at it as you are.”
“He took me bird watching on Sunday.”
“Good God. I bet you frightened all the birds away, clattering about like the rag and bone man!”
I laugh. “Nan, I’ve got to go soon. Do you want me to make you a drink before I get off?”
“No, I’m fine, Rose.”
She looks at me fondly. “I tell you what,” she says, holding up my knitting. “Why don’t I do this for you? You’ll never finish it in a month of Sundays and it’ll only take me five minutes.”
It’s sorely tempting. Knit two, purl two rib became an exercise in monotony after about ten inches.
“No, Nan, it would feel like cheating.”
She hands it back to me and I wrap the scarf carefully around the needles. I realise that it’s more than just a length of woolly loops and stitches; over the weeks it’s become part of me and I’ve knitted all my daydreams, hopes and feelings into it.
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Comments
I love this, the story
I love this, the story intertwined in the stitches brought back memories for me. I liked the way you used familiar things like the gas fire (full blast) to take us to the time, and Emmerdale (Farm). I liked your bangles and earrings, too - your Nan's affectionate disapproval did more to paint the picture than any description could. I leant to knit round my Nan's house - it's these things that bring them back to us when we miss um, isn't it? Enjoyed.
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A lovely warm story.
A lovely warm story. Knitting and love.
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Your nan sounds wonderful,
Your nan sounds wonderful, and i really enjoyed this!
I think there might be two Ms in emmderdale
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I don't think I've watched
I don't think I've watched either since 197something! (actually does crossroads still exist?)
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Lovely story. All Nans could
Lovely story. All Nans could knit and crochet and do a hundred things at once. Their Nans could probably Knit, Crochet and do a MILLION things at once! Great memory of a time that US of a certain age remember all too well.
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You've defied the darkness
You've defied the darkness beautifully in this memory thread . Not a whiff of mysterious intent to be found, and positively overflowing with chuckles and seamless wit.
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This brought back so many
This brought back so many memories for me also. It was my mom who taught me to knit and I still can't hold the needles correctly. I was also a Crossroads fan, I suppose living in Birmingham it would have to be so.
I broke my leg over a year ago and thought it a good opportunity to do some knitting. I decided on a scarf, it's still not finished!
Knitting is such a relaxing activity and as you say many thoughts and memories accompany it.
Lovely, and made me cry!
Lindy
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beautiful and hand crafted
beautiful and hand crafted morality in pitch and purl.
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very lovely story, nice
very lovely story, nice delicate writing too moments like gas fire is on full blast/respite from the stifling layer of knitting early on helped swiftly set& transport me right into that cosey scene. i too liked the bangles, the moments of intergenerational divide adding sweet personality to the warm memories. great piece. v adaptable in your writing.
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Yep! This story hits the spot
Yep! This story hits the spot. I had many a disapproving conversation with older relatives. One mate who had long hair was mistaken for my girlfriend by my elderly aunt. It reminds me of the many 'in my day' speeches I had to endure as a young person. Lovely piece of writing. Thank you.
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As always, Canonette, a
As always, Canonette, a seemingly normal conversation and moment containing much, much more than that.
A touching piece - thank you.
Y.
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Beautiful story. Sometimes it
Beautiful story. Sometimes it's not the end result, but the journey that the heart grows fond of, when so much love surrounds it.
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