Everything interesting seems to have a story to go along with it. The story of how I got started knitting is how I will make my introduction.
Two years ago I found her laugh and quirky idiosyncrasies endearing. She could light up a room, and always caught my attention when she was around. The forces of nature and gravity between two objects brought the two of us together. A rather exciting relationship began only months before Christmas. With the Holiday season quickly running up on me I decided that I would knit a stocking and fill it with affordable gifts.
Who knew circular needles came in different lengths? Not me. I got this 2 1/2 foot long needle home and realized I had made a terrible mistake. What would you do? Return the needle for a shorter, more manageable length? Hell no! The part connecting the two ends was plastic. Plastic, luck on my side, melts, and is fairly easy to cut. So, with the help of a Leatherman, a box of matches, and a little duct tape (to smooth it all out) a shorter needle was born. It's a keepsake that I will have a picture of to share soon enough.
The top of this stocking was flawless, the tube was a work of art, but the turn didn't exist. No, it wasn't bad, it just didn't exist because I was working with limited knowledge (for example, see above). My disappointment was probably worth a prescription for Zoloft. Rather than dwell I reached deep into my bag of tricks and went to the fabric store, bought some fleece, and cut out a shape that would later become the foot. I sewed it all together using a twist-tie from a bread bag and presented the miracle to the girl.