Knitting to My Heart's Content

That's exactly what I've been doing since my super cool new toy arrived. In March I searched "knitting" on craigslist and found quite a gem, pictured in my previous post, that is now set up in the front bedroom (aka Kim's craft room.) I had never bought anything off craigslist before, and the woman who listed it lives way the hell out in Eastern Oregon, in a town called Lone Rock. We're talking about a town of less than 100... and a retired couple who "can't drive an economy car" because they live so far out in the country. Maybe they have a really gravelly driveway. Who knows. And, she wanted me to pay for her gasoline to make the drive to meet me, even if I decided not to buy the machine.

I spent a lot of time on the internet, pouring over information about knitting machines and didn't find much at all about the Maruyama model 20. I talked it over with some close friends who pointed out the fact that if this worked out, I could make things a lot faster and sell them, and the machine may very well pay for itself. After much deliberation, I decided to take the leap of faith and sent her the cashier's check for $125 + $50 for insured shipping.

I'm not sure I wanted to meet this woman in person anyway, much less spend the gas money to get myself there; I had flashes of that old movie "Nothing But Trouble" where Demi Moore's character and her yuppie friends get trapped in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. This woman sounded like she smokes about a pack a day and talked my ear off during our initial conversation, telling me all about her knitting and how she just doesn't use the machine because she can knit a sweater in four days. She bought it from somebody "back East" about six years ago and just never used it much.

The thing (which I affectionately named "Suki") and all of its pieces + a nifty book from 1963 all about Ida Thurmans' knitting methods finally arrived in two separate packages, and it was no surprise that both of them reeked of cigarette smoke, even though there seemed to be nothing about the machine that would absorb any smell.

Once I put the thing together, my dear and patient husband helped me find various videos on how to get started, since the manual that came with my knitting machine might as well have been written in Greek! Turns out that starting a project was not near as complicated as I thought, and I practically shrieked with joy when I finally made a little 2" x 2" swatch with a sample yarn.

I did figure out where all the reddish-brown dust (and the smoky smell) was coming from - I took it apart and realized there was foam inside that was seriously deteriorated. The instruction manual also recommended oiling a few key parts, so it operated much more smoothly once that was done.

The first real item I made up was a tiny blanket (actually more of a snuggly) that turned out much skinnier than I expected. I crocheted a white border around it, embroidered a fancy cursive "M" into the corner, and gave it away almost as quickly as I'd finished it. We're still getting to know each other, and I'm starting to learn little tricks that only come to a person once they actually start the trial-and-error process that is knitting. But the question remains, if I made the item on my knitting machine, can I still say that I "knit" it?