There is a craze sweeping the arts and crafts underground. From my mother in Ontario, to my niece in Calgary, to the women selling crafts at Gabriola markets, everyone seems to be smitten with the dishrag.

            I myself had put down my knitting needles several years ago, blaming arthritis for my inability to hold the needles for any length of time. I had once prided myself on my elaborate cable work, but when I became continually nagged with cramped and aching hands after hours of knitting, I accepted the fact that I would never knit again, going so far as to give most of my supplies away.

            One afternoon a few weeks ago, I found myself with time to kill waiting for the ferry. I wandered into the craft store in the Harbour Mall and something drew me to the shelves stocked with deliciously coloured cotton yarns: Hyacinth Swirl, Forest Swirl, and Painted Desert. Before I realized it, I had filled my arms with a dozen of these baby powder scented skeins.

            As I twirled the pattern rack, I remembered the pretty dishcloths I had received as gifts for Christmas and those I had purchased from craft sales. I recalled with chagrin that not one of these cloths now looked anywhere close to their original glory; they had all blended into the same shade of dishwater grey. I knew that I must knit dishcloths, this time taking more care with wash-load decisions.

I selected a book with a dozen dishcloth patterns, eleven of which would likely never see the inside of a dirty lasagna pan. One pattern looked like the front of a vest, cables and all, knitted in ecru yarn. I chuckled to read one pattern that boasted a “reversible” dishcloth. Think about it!

 My fingers were starting to twitch. On the ferry, I read the pattern book from cover to cover, selecting the most basic design.

            As soon as I got home, I set up mission control: knitting supplies, TV remote, phone, and a pot of tea. I sat down, picked up the needles and yarn and …nothing!     I thought that it would be like riding a bike; everything would come rushing back into my waiting fingers. Or like the combination for a lock you have had for years. This lock was going to take a bit of picking!

            Casting on came back to me when I finally let myself relax and the body took over, but the “tbl’s” and “YO’s” were going to require some refreshers. I could have called Mom, but explaining knitting over the phone is not easy. I tore apart still-packed moving boxes trying to find any knitting book that may have escaped my purge. I found one old craft magazine that had a fairly comprehensive knitting glossary but by this time, my tea was cold. Six hours later, there was a pile of kinked and rather frayed looking yarn on the coffee table and no dishcloth. I wisely put it all aside, deciding to start again fresh the next day.

            I must have been knitting in my dreams, because the next day, it all came back and I finished one cloth in no time. I couldn’t wait to start another. Over the next two days I had three finished dishcloths and I had moved on to a more adventuresome pattern. In my mind, I was already distributing my handiwork to friends and family, who would appropriately “ooh” and “ahhh.” I was also pleased to find that I was not having any aches in my hands.

            On the weekend, I was at a garage sale where I came across a knitting book. How serendipitous, and for only a quarter. The book, The Right Way to Knit by Evelyn Stiles Stewart, was more than a how-to-knit book. It could have been called The Right Way to Live. The author, obviously a Zen-knitter, explains that the state of our health or nervous condition can decide the degree of tension of the knitting

She elaborates, explaining how some moods can lead to very loose, uneven knitting and a piece that is too large. Alternately, if a person has nervous tension, they tend to take out their irritations on the yarn. This leads to yanking and pulling and the piece may become stiff and too small. She suggests that the knitter set aside the project until they are feeling better. She discusses proper body position and how to hold the needles, in order to obtain correct tension and to avoid cramped hands, a lesson in basic ergonomics.    

            It is easy to understand why knitting dishcloths has caught on in such a big way: the variegated yarns available are gorgeous; you can complete one cloth in the time it takes to watch the Academy Awards; and when finished, you have something useful. It can also be a peaceful way to pass a rainy afternoon with a pot of tea and listening to the radio.

            Remember, you can’t hide your stress from your knitting, so just breathe deeply and don’t get uptight; it’s just a dishcloth after all!