Knitted Cuddlies
My
favorite toy growing up was a stuffed purple cow--it was the sixties,
so Cowie was a truly vibrant shade of purple. I loved that cow. Heard
of the Velveteen Rabbit? Well, this guy was The Velveteen Cowie. He got
so tattered that my mom felt it was time for Cowie to move on. It got
to be like a game: I'd go to school, leaving Cowie on my bed where he
belonged. My mom would come into my room to clean up, take Mr. Cow into
the garage, and put him into the box where we put our charity
donations. I would come home from school, glance into my room, see that
Cowie was missing, and then go out to the garage on a rescue mission.
I won, year after year. Cowie is still with me, in fact. He's in the
basement of my house, giggling as we speak, eluding all my efforts to
locate him for his big photo op--but he's there.
I had a lot of toys growing up--glass animals and plastic dolls and
wooden building blocks and all sorts of playthings in-between. The ones
whose memories I cherish, the ones I fought to keep, tattered ears and
lost eyes notwithstanding, were the ones I referred to as Stuffies--the
toys I could cuddle and carry about, the toys I could dress up and talk
to and take to sleep with me at night.
So when I saw a report on TV last week about ways to console your
kids when you have to take away a lead-tainted plastic toy, I thought
of Cowie, and all the Stuffies who stuck with me through thick and
thin, when plastic toys broke, and metal toys bent, and building blocks
went missing.
If you've got a youngun, and you're faced with the task of taking
away a toy that might be dangerous for them, may I suggest a swap?
Trade them the plastic for a Stuffie, something with eyes and a nose
and a personality and a heart. Knit them a bear, or a kitty, or a bunny; crochet them a lamb.
Make a game out of discovering the new Stuffie's name, help your child
choose a ribbon for their neck and a blankie to wrap their new friend
in at night.
Knit a toy for a child, and maybe someday they'll be all grownup
like me, digging through their basement searching for the one denizen
of Toyland who really mattered to them their whole life long.
1824 Blouson
My favorite comment from last Friday's post was this one from Julie:
Holy. Moly. I've been using my bra band size this entire freaking
time. No wonder my sweaters are always too big. I thought it was my
gauge. *smacking forehead*
Judging from the state of my email, Julie, you certainly are not
alone. I'll be continuing our series on sizing over the next few weeks.
Meanwhile, if you have not started your own Beautiful You notebook,
take a look at our How To Measure Yourself
page and join the measuring party! I'll be adding more tutorials on
other critical measurements, as well as instructions on how to decipher
schematics and choose the best pattern size--and the best fit--for you.
Later this week: I'm wandering around the office with the 1824 Blouson from the Summer 2007 issue of Knits, sweet-talking folks into trying it on and letting me take their picture, a la the Corset Gals Gallery. Stay tuned!
Sandi Wiseheart is the editor of Knitting Daily.
What's on Sandi's needles? Photo coming soon of the finished Bonsai Tunic by Norah Gaughan. New to the needles:
Swatching for a Sandi-sized version of the Corset Pullover! Plus, about
6 inches' worth of cables for a new design coming soon to Knitting Daily.
Someone asked if this was the ONLY thing on my needles...you caught me!
I am the Unfinished Objects Fairy, spreading my little stardust magic
over as much casting-on and as many needle sets as possible.