Knit one, purl one…
Every issue, Yours writer Marion Clarke will be reliving the best bits of our lives. This fortnight she shares your memories of learning to knit
Having learned at school or been taught by Mum, many Yours readers are keen knitters whose needles are busily clicking away to this day. Others are not quite so skilled… Not being nimble-fingered myself, I fully sympathise with Eileen Hawkes when she says: “My mam always said I could do owt with a needle except what it was meant for!”
What a good thing Eileen and I weren’t born into a Scottish fishing community as Jeannie Gatt was: “As the daughter of a fisherman I had to learn the skills required. By the time I was six, my granny had taught me most of the knitting and crochet stitches. “During the Second World War, huge bags of Aran wool arrived and every class in the school was involved in helping to knit for the Arctic convoys. The infants made garter-stitch scarves while the older children made boot stockings, helmets and mittens.”
Freda Weymouth also learned to knit during the war: “The teacher said we were going to knit for the men in the RAF. I said I would knit a hat which had to be done on four needles. I was very slow and after three months the teacher said, ‘Freda, the war will be over before you get that hat done’ and she finished it for me.”
By the time she started school, Julie Atack was already an experienced knitter. “I was three years old when my mother was knitting in preparation for the birth of my sister. I was eager to have a try so Mum patiently repeated ‘in, over, through, off’ until I could do it. Very soon I had my own short needles, a ball of wool and a red felt bag to keep them in.” Margaret Reynolds was eight when her headmistress taught the girls to knit: “We sat in a semi-circle round the fire and felt very grownup when we progressed to knitting a scarf using real wool.
“We first learned how to wind the wool from the skein into a neat ball, wrapping it over our hands. We were shown how to cast 30 stitches on to size ten needles and knit in garter stitch. Each scarf took two ounces of 4-ply wool. For a finishing touch we made tassels using a crochet hook.” Jean Akers was taught to knit in junior school: “We had to knit a scarf, but I was so bad at it that the teacher gave me the job of going round the school collecting tea money from the other teachers instead. After I left school I learned to knit rather well with the help of
my mother and gran and went on to knit cardigans for myself and my husband as well as baby clothes.” Knitting wasn’t solely a female skill, as Coral Murphy found out when she first learned at school: “I struggled to make a little white duck. Staying in the cloakroom to practise during playtime wasn’t a good idea as the boys thought it great fun to wind the ball of wool around all the coat hooks. “My mother and grandmother couldn’t knit so were unable to help. Then the war ended and my father, who was an expert knitter, came home and I proudly finished my little duck which was more of a dingy grey colour by this time.” A Christmas present of wool and plastic needles started Elaine Hicklin knitting. “The plastic needles soon snapped as my tension was so tight the yarn squeaked.
“After the
‘After he began to turn blue in the face, I had to cut him out of it!’
usual squares for blankets and dolls’ clothes, I progressed to knitting for the male family members. Father was a large man so he had sleeveless jumpers in a thick yarn that could be completed before boredom set in.” Knitting for our menfolk often proved to be a challenge, as several readers ruefully remember. Aged 17, Mrs S J Thompson wanted to impress her new boyfriend: “I painstakingly knitted a cardigan for him. It took me many months, but when I eventually finished it and I came to sew it together, it comprised a back, one front side and three sleeves. Thankfully, it didn’t frighten him off as we’ve been married for 52 years.” Margaret Dodd writes: “After knitting myself a school jumper, I began one using the same pattern for my boyfriend Robbie. Sadly, by the time it was finished, so was the romance and the jumper was given to my next beau Alan. I then embarked on a complicated ‘Scandi’ design for Alan using thick wool on small needles. It was hard going and before the jumper was finished – yes, so was Alan. I made sure I had two rings on my finger before I knitted anything for my husband, Doug!” Lesley Ball admits she’s not a great knitter so she was very pleased when she finished making her husband a roll-neck sweater: “Sadly, I hadn’t picked up enough stitches when completing the neck so he had a real struggle to pull it over his head. Things got worse when he tried to pull it off. After he began to turn blue in the face, I had to cut him out of it!
“He was not impressed and said, ‘Please don’t ever knit me anything else’! And I never have.”