Guest Blogger:Rach of Life With Baby Donut"Knitted Together"

My guest today is Rach of Life With Baby Donut. She and I have many things in common. We met our husbands in similar ways (check out Rach's So How'd You Meet Him? story), we share two hobbies (reading and knitting), we each nicknamed our children after dessert items, and we both willingly (mostly) left the comfort of our jobs behind to enter the world of the stay-at-home mom.

Rach is your host for Life's Lessons, a weekly meme that asks, What did you learn this week?

Rach lives in good ole sweltering hot Texas with her husband, Mr. DIH (Does It Himself), and baby Donut. You can learn more about Rach at her blog: About Rach

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Let's get to know Rach better:

Favourite word:

I think it's "Home."  That word is so comforting and it connotes familiarity and nurturing to me.  It's not always a place either.  Sometimes being with a certain person reminds you of home.

Favourite time of day:

Early morning, just before the sun breaks through.  I'm rarely up that early, but whenever I am, I love the peaceful quiet that time of day brings.

Favourite family outing:

I love going to the zoo.  We haven't taken Donut yet, but I hope to in the fall when she's a bit older.

Favourite pastime:

A few hobbies are reading, knitting, blogging and sewing.

Favourite comfort food:

Hot tea.  Not exactly a food, but hot tea always reminds me of my house growing up, where my parents had tea time every afternoon.  Drinking a cup of tea reminds me of family and friends and provides me the chance to just slow down for a bit.

Favourite of my posts:

http://lifewithbabydonut.blogspot.com/2011/06/taking-my-own-advice.html

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Knitted Together

by Rach of Life With Baby Donut

I remember sitting with my grandmother during the cold Minnesota winters, watching her wield her knitting needles.  I was fascinated by the thin metal needles bobbing in her hands as balls of colored yarn were woven together.  She would knit us hats, sweaters and socks every fall to wear in the freezing winter.

She never used a pattern.  She just seemed to know how to coax the yarn into shape effortlessly.  She would knit, hold up the piece she'd made and call me over to measure for size.  I remember feeling her hands on my back and arms as she measured her handwidths against the woven yarn. 

I proudly wore my hand-knit sweaters.  I loved them because I loved my grandmother.  She'd moved in with us when I was in kindergarten and stayed with us for 3 years.  We became best buds.  She'd play the game Memory with me, make me my favorite foods, even let me play with her hair. 

I wanted her to teach me to knit.  She tried, but my little 6 year old fingers were clumsy and impatient.   I just settled for playing with my dolls and Legos instead.

When I was 9, she moved back to her home.  I still remember that day as we watched her board her plane, tears pouring down my face as I held my mother's hand and half-hid behind her so my grandmother wouldn't see me cry. 

Later on at home, we realized that my grandmother hadn't taken everything.  She'd left her knitting needles.  I was determined to learn to knit something, anything, before we went to visit her in a few months.  With my mother's help, I painstakingly knit a small scrap of yarn.  It was probably 2 inches tall and 5 inches wide. 

It was nothing.  But it was everything.

I packed it in my bag when we went to see grandma during my summer break.  When we arrived, I ran excitedly to her and jumped in her arms.  I then rummaged through my bag and triumphantly thrust my offering of yarn to her.  I don't remember what she said, but I knew she was pleased with my effort.

Years passed and my new skill gave way to other hobbies and to growing up.  I became busy with school, friends, driving and boys.  I forgot about knitting for a long time.

A few years ago, a co-worker started bringing her knitting to work.  I remembered my fascination with the craft and decided to pick it up again.  I found a local yarn shop and signed myself up for a private lesson.  It was just as magical and beautiful as I'd remembered all those years ago.  I learned quickly and only needed that one lesson.  I started knitting like crazy, making scarves and baby blankets. 

Knitting is soothing.  I love being able to take a skein of yarn, thread it around a piece of metal, and make something beautiful out of it.  And every time I pick up those needles, I'm reminded of the love shared between my grandmother and me.  These needles, knits and purls, will always be our special bond.

My grandmother passed away earlier this year, just a few weeks after Donut was born.  I haven't knitted since, being busy with Donut, but also finding it painful to pick up a needle.  I miss my grandmother every day.  But one of these days, I'll get back into it again.  And when I do, I'll know I'm not only knitting yarn, but sweet memories across the generations.