Brainless in Burlington...

(Warning: This post has no interesting pictures, no knitting progress, nothing in fact about knitting except a little tale regarding a Magic Loop Sock Class, a Life-Lesson, and a very frustrated and humiliated Me. This is, in fact, a fairly self-indulgent post and if no one ever reads it that will be fine. If you are looking for knitting pictures, discussions of projects or thoughts on pattern details I recommend you click on through to your next knitting blog destination. Thank you for your time and cooperation.)

"What a splendid head, yet no brain." Aesop

The class: last Saturday, twelve to two, run by Knitty Yoda. The theory: we would learn to knit two socks- at once!- on a pair of 40 inch Addis from the toe-up. I have mentioned before, I was excited about this class. I was already touting to the rest of the world this would be THE Knitting Socks method to end all Knitting Socks methods. I was ready.

I started with this:



and ended with this:



I am not, it turns out, up to Magic Loop Socks just yet. I am not, it would seem, skilled enough to start such a project. I am not, at least I hope, always going to feel quite so stupid as I did on Saturday.

I could not even work out the cast-on. THE CAST-ON, folks. The starting point, the jumping-off, the invisible cast-on I could not get. It was not pretty. I didn't write about it Saturday, which was good, because the screen would be tear-stained, probably filled with misspelled words and lots of slurs against Addis and socks and even, holiest of holies, Elizabeth Zimmermann and her invisible cast-on description. The class went a little something like this:

Hour 1: We've just begun, we're all smiling nervously at each other, Addis poised, ready to figure this out and get going.
Hour 2: We have all worked out the cast-on and gotten started. I am proud of myself, knitting along, following the directions to "Repeat Rows 4 and 5" and I am smiling, you guessed it, smugly. Until Knitty Yoda realizes I have not repeated Rows 4 and 5 I have repeated Rows 1 and 2. And now it all has to come out and I have to start over.
Hour 2 and a Half: My brain is jelly, I cannot figure out the cast-on. Knitty Yoda can get me started but then the whole thing falls apart the minute she puts her attention on another student.
Hour 3: (yes, in our two hour class there is an hour three) I have still not gotten going again. The other students are now knitting ferociously.
Hour 3 and a Half: I am a moron.

That is the best description I can give you. It was not good. No amount of Knitty Yoda's encouragement or the struggle of other students could take away the sting. Either you've been the dummy of the class or not and I can't tell you what it's like except to say AWFUL. At least I handled it well by coming home, snapping at The Hubba, ignoring the dogs, and eating my weight's worth in peanuts.

So it took a little time to remind myself why I'm knitting exactly. Because I'm not knitting to get it right every single time. I'm not knitting to always know what's coming and never be challenged. I'm not knitting to be the best (whatever that is) or impress anyone or for any other reason than to learn, and get better, and stay interested and be challenged. But it took some time, ya'll, it took some time. It took digging deep, it took a lot of peanuts, it took a UT victory, and it took apologizing to The Hubba who was fairly patient with me, to get to that point. Because for a while I was convinced I was stupid. No, not stupid, too dumb to be trusted with a light-bulb and a lamp, that's how I felt.

I realize most people reading this (that small, dedicated band) either don't knit or have been doing it so long you use one hand, blind-folded, while drinking heavily and never make the tiniest mistake. So really this part of our post is directed to other new knitters (anyone?), other people who have managed to knit together some impressive little projects and forget it all in the face of empty Addis and unused sock yarn or whatever your Achilles' heel might be. It was as close as I could get to being back in school and facing an algebra/geometry/biology/chemistry book and all of my very bright friends have mastered the project and moved on and I am sitting there, exhausted and empty, all the words on the page mushing into one thought: "I wish I was in English class."

Anyone have any thoughts on this subject? Anyone ever not felt up to par? Anyone ever not picked something up right off the bat? Any words of wisdom? Anyone else ever sat in a three and a half hour class with exactly what you came in with to show for it? Anyone? Anyone have any suggestions to send me back into next week's follow-up class?

Here's how I've motivated myself thus far, Positive Encouragement for the Knitter by the Knitter. I am new to knitting. I am trying. Every new skill takes time to learn. I am moving at my own pace, no one else's. This was a big project to take on, and I'll go back next week even if this:



is still all I have to show.

And there's always double pointed needles.