Knit Your Bit

Harry returned from Cornwall quite insistent that he begin knitting, and I quote "a sweater, a hat and socks." Which might have seemed understandable a year ago when I was knitting every week, but I haven't picked up my needles in at least six months, so I'm not sure where this desire has sprung from (possibly Wallace and Grommet...Grommet the dog knits).

Harry didn't just ask, he begged and bothered and insisted until I took out some yarn and needles for him, cast on a few stitches, showed him what to do (not that he paid any attention) and let him "knit." After about 10 minutes he suggested that maybe I should knit his sweater "with a steam roller on it, please." But lo, the following morning, he was back at it, demanding to know where his knitting was.

The day after the knitting frenzy kicked in we were at Wimpole farm where we watched two ladies (think: Strega Nona and sister), work freshly shorn lamb's wool into a spinning wheel (think: sleeping beauty and the pricked finger) and then create two-ply skeins. It was fascinating, having just seen the sheep. But a note to my fellow knitters - this yarn was SO nasty rough and coarse, the epitome of "steel wool." I got shivers touching the knitted garments they had out for display. Pity too, it would be so nice to buy yarn straight from the farm.