Like most little kids, I spent the bulk of my childhood tethered to a much loved stuffed animal. For the next 15 years (still counting…), I would spend the bulk of my time pandering to his every imagined need and desire. It is he who I credit for my love of all things knit and knitting, for when I was about 11 years old my grandmother taught me how to knit (a sweater for the aforementioned fuzzy friend), and I have never looked back.
Knitting has, over the many years, proved a place of solace, solitude and escape. I credit the clean wooly nubs of a new project for having saved many a Christmas, the rhythmic click of needles once kept me company when I booked myself into a deserted cabin on Vancouver island, and the satisfaction of parading around town in slightly sloppy and often crooked coordinated separates has only added fuel to my obsession.
Fellow Torontonian, Stephanie Pearl-Mcphee is equally enamored with knitting, and her newest book Free-Range Knitter, is a joyful irreverent ode to not only knitting, but knitters, anyone who has ever been touched by a knitter, or for that matter, knit wear. Written in a series of hilarious anecdotes and essays about the people who knit and the company they keep, Free Range Knitter is a must read. This book had me smirking to myself, and yes even sometimes laughing out loud.
You can follow Stephanie’s adventures on her blog www.yarnharlot.ca