A bit of poetic licence with the title, I must confess. Personally, I prefer to follow the forwards arrow of time. It’s actually Shana who has been knitting backwards. (If she wants to explain the details, I’ll leave it up to her 🙂 )
Basically, this backwards knitting is a way to selectively undo a passage of knitting when you’ve made a little mistake or simply gotten carried away and knitted too much. It’s a less destructive method than just grabbing the end of the yarn and pulling like a terrier chasing after a string of sausages at the butcher’s.
Anyway, Shana was helping me out a little while ago when I was knitting a scarf each for my Ma and Pa. These scarves will become one of their Christmas presents this year. They are unlikely to see this post as they are not connected to the Internet, so for the rest of the world here’s what they look like. (The scarves, that is. Not my parents.)
The one above is mother’s scarf. And the one below is my Dad’s. If they want to swap scarves, that’s up to them, but pink really is not Pop’s colour.
They are both acrylic (the scarves, that is… 🙂 ) and were knitted by me (with some weaving in of ends completed by Shana) using King Cole Big Value chunky yarn. I used 6mm bamboo needles to make Dad’s scarf, and (horror of horrors!) 6mm plastic needles to make Mum’s. With all this acrylic and plastic around, I can see I’m likely to get turfed out of the knitting circle pretty soon 🙂
Back to Shana’s prowess at backwards knitting, though. ‘If you were to video record me doing this and then ran the footage the other way, I would look as if I were knitting forwards,’ said Shana.
‘That’s nothing,’ I said. ‘If you were to record me knitting forwards and then played the tape, it would look like a still photograph, such is my lack of speed.’
Suddenly, Shana had a serious moment. As some of our readers know, she is allergic to acrylic yarn and if she handles it too much she can develop blisters on the hands and will feel very unwell for a long time afterwards. ‘Do you know what to do if I go into anaphylactic shock?’ she said.
‘Not sure,’ I replied. ‘Does it involve having to throw a bucket of water over you, by any chance?’
‘Just you try it!’ said Shana, meaning the opposite.
‘Oh all right then,’ I said, starting to take the question less lightly. ‘I suppose II’d have to cook my own supper. Buttered bread crusts again, then 😦 .’
I can’t understand it though. Why can’t Shana be allergic to something normal. Like bee stings, for instance? Instead of my precious chunky acrylic?