My first cloth was a piece of blue wool yarn that my mother used to teach me how to knit. I was about 6 years old and we were living in an old house on our farm in Bellangry. Even though I had some dropped stitches, I was so proud of that 6inch square of knitting. Now I belonged to the special group of people who knew how to make things. My maternal grandmother crocheted beautiful fine doilies, my mother made all our clothes and knitted warm sweaters to keep us cosy on frosty mornings. I loved the feel of the wool as it moved through my fingers, so soft and thick.
It was the start of my love affair with fibre. Going to the big department store to the wool section to choose yarn for a new project. Later on choosing fabric to make a dress to wear on a date.
I have often thought of that blue scrap of knitting, especially when I am teaching my granddaughters to knit.