When I first started with my knitting
obsession hobby, my mother would watch me work and comment,
“I know you didn’t get this from me. The knitting gene must skip a few generations. You’ve inherited this from Granny.”
My great-grandmother was a knitter. She was a knitting instructor many years ago in England, on top of raising eight children. One of those kids was my beloved Grandad, and if there’s truth to the stories I’ve heard through the years of his, let’s say rambunctious nature, as a child, then my Granny certainly had her hands full!
Even though she lived on the other side of the Atlantic, my great-grandmother made a few pieces for me when I was a kid, notably my sister and I were adorable in matching sweaters with fruit on the front of them.
After one visit to England in the mid-1990s, my grandparents returned home with a blue toned sweater, saying Granny made it, but it wasn’t the right size for her. I can’t remember how, but the sweater became mine. I’ve had it for 20 years, and on particularly cool days, I break this sweater out and feel comforted not only by its warmth, but also by the skill in each stitch, somehow making me feel connected to the great-grandmother I was lucky enough to meet and with whom I share a passion and a craft.
Me wearing my Granny sweater, with 20 years between pictures.