The knitter and her wool guru

The past few days I´ve actually been feeling half decent, meaning that I can expand my activities beyond just chewing, dreaming of showering, watching telly and listening to audio tapes (that period lasted so long my ears were getting sore). At present I´m living pretty far from everyone I know (not even counting those outside the country), so visits are unfortunately very far and few between. But yesterday my favourite Erika and Björn took their time to borrow a car and drive out here.
In my world Erika is to swedish textile crafts what the stream of new books are to a library. She consumes all known techniques, making like an internal conveyor belt and produce things like there is no tomorrow. Quite a long time ago I´ve been cheating a bit in knitting and quite alot in nålbindning, and lately I´ve sort of felt that it might be fun to take up some sort of creative activity. And when I have my very own wool guru at hand, whats better than giving knitting a go.

My gran´s sister down on a little island in Denmark has recently lost the battle against her own hoarding of crap and the town´s entire squatting cat maffia, and so has been forced to opt for an old folks home down the village. This means that my gran and mum (wearing face masks and near enough burning their clothers afterwards), this spring, tried to save the few pieces of family heirlooms that hadn´t already completely corroded under cat´s urin, feces, or manicurial needs. To get to the point of this rambling I arrive at the grandest solid wooden closet (built by my great grandfather), which at an early stage of the house´s decay had had its doors barricaded with various organic and non-organic matter. This matter had started from the floor and by unknown scientifical reactions grown high enough for the doors to remain shut solid for years of double figures. When my mum shoveled in to this (living?) mass, and opened the doors, she found the entire closet filled with high quality knitting, weaving and embrodery yarn, some of which we brought back to Stockholm.

I now feel it is my obligation to treat this premature inheritance to knitting needles and long evenings of cursing. So on yesterdays visit I left the weaving and embrodery yarns to Erika, and she lent me a "fool proof" but really nice book of knitting patterns. I started out straight away, but decided to opt for something small scale before I knew if my claims to once having known the basics of this art was in fact something I had dreamt.


And behold my new iPod cover! Not that I think I will want to be seen actually using it, the leather cover I already have looks in comparison to the knitted one like scallops next to Tesco value fish fingers (thats Coops blåvitt för svenskar). But hey, now I know I can go straight to prison (sweater) possibly not without passing go (hat).