I am the Princess of completely useless talents, and one of those talents is the ability to finger knit. I honestly don’t remember who taught me this marvelously pointless skill, but what’s truly important is that I put it to great use as a preteen girl.
I have been recently inspired to write about the embarrassing moments of my past, particularly after I read this post by my personal stalkee, The Meanest Mom, and this post by Melanie at BeanPaste. I mean, what could be better than sharing the truly humiliating moments of my past with people who are unlucky enough to read this blog, either on purpose or by accident?
The first entry into my Embarrassing Moments of the Princess’s Childhood (EMotPC) series was actually like two years ago, while I was still blogging at scrapbook.com. If you would like to read the story of the Twine Ball Song, click here. Otherwise, enjoy this second chapter in what is sure to be a very long series (especially if I wait two years between each installment). Because my childhood was full of embarrassing moments, mostly of my own making.
And this is one of those moments.
All I can say is, my poor mother. Once I had learned the mostly useless skill of finger knitting, I began to finger knit at every given opportunity. I got in trouble for busting the yarn out at school and my mean mom wouldn’t let me take it to church, so that left me with TV time. Chances are, if I was sitting in front of the TV I had a long snake of useless finger-knitted yarn hanging off the back of my hand like some variegated finger tumor.
What follows is not pretty. I somehow procured a ball of white twine, you know, the cotton stuff, I don’t know what normal people use it for. I, being the single-minded young lady that I was, used it for finger knitting. And when I say used it, I mean used it up. I sat there on my ever-widening bum and finger knitted something that could possibly have been put in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest useless snake of knitted cotton twine in the history of the known universe.
My dear mother, not wanting to discourage my budding skill with yarn (which would eventually turn into a love of all things plastic canvas), put on her Amazing Motherly Thinking Cap and came up with a use for my Finger Knitted Eight Wonder of the World. Let’s just say we were the only family in Union Grove, Wisconsin, and possibly in the known universe, with a finger-knitted garland on their Christmas tree that year.
I looked in my scrapbook but couldn’t find a picture of that most beautiful tree ever. Mom, if you have a picture, have Dad scan it and email it to me. That would really take this blog entry to the next level of coolness.
The other part of this story is worse. What’s most embarrassing about this story is, looking back, my complete and utter lack of embarrassment.
I had this outfit that was blue and pink and purple plaid. It was a blouse and a skirt and it was undoubtedly the last word in fashion because in sixth grade, as now, I was a complete fashion plate at all times. The best part of this outfit was the fact that I had variegated yarn that was exactly the same colors.
It started with a belt. I finger-knitted this most beautiful concoction of hottie boomalottie (that’s just for you, Amy) variegated yarn that was long enough to tie around my waist and leave a fashionable bit hanging down playfully. And then, well, why not a hair tie? And then– brilliance of brilliance, a complete accessory set including a bracelet, an anklet, a necklace, and even earrings. Those earrings gave me some trouble but when you sit finger knitting for hours at a time you eventually tap into creative resources you never knew you had. My brainstorm resulted in two two-inch long bits of blue and pink finger knitted happiness with a little stud earring stuck through the top. And viola! Head-to-Ankle finger-knitted beauty!
I can remember standing in my sixth grade classroom wearing this loveliness (now that I think about it, I might have added a fashionable finger knitted eyeglass chain to the ensemble) and feeling so proud of myself. It never even crossed my mind that perhaps I had just proven myself to be the weirdest twelve-year-old in Wisconsin. I would say in the world, but at that same period of history a boy in Nebraska was learning to play the saw. He performed for us in high school, which was unfortunate for all involved. Maybe if we had all had finger knitted earmuffs it would have been better.
I recently had the wonderful opportunity to recall my finger knitting abilities during a project at work, where the children and I made lovely newspaper people. If you are made out of newspaper, a finger knitted scarf is not nearly as weird looking.
See what I mean?