I’m not the best knitting teacher.  I’m left-handed, and knit sort of funny, and made up my own way of holding the needles.  And I’m merely competent, not  expert.  But I’ve come to realize how deeply I believe in this process–teaching one another to knit.  In this time when we learn so much through technological interface, how subversively countercultural to sit with a friend around a heap of natural fiber–wool, cotton, flax–and stand in lineage with generations of women (and men, of course, but that’s newer…) in sharing this peaceful, practical art.

So here’s a simple gift for you:  Package up some homemade knitting needles with a skein of wool, an easy scarf pattern, and a heartfelt promise to teach your friend to knit.  Choose wool rather than cotton for yarn–it is more forgiving, and much easier for learning.  This is a wonderful last minute present–you get credit for woollen-knittiness, but you don’t actually have to knit anything!

Making knitting needles is really fun.  For US size 9 needles, cut two 11 inch lengths from a  1/4 ” dowel (they can be shorter–10 inches is good for kids–or a little longer if you like).  Use an old fashioned pencil sharpener, the kind that attaches to a wall, to sharpen one end of each needle.  Sharpen it until it looks like a knitting needle, but don’t worry if it gets too sharp–you’re going to sand it down.  Take some medium-grain sandpaper and sand the whole needle, including the tip–take care with this part, the needles should be very slippery, and the tip nice and round.  Finish with fine-grain sandpaper.

Rub on a thin coat of mineral oil, furniture oil, lavender oil, or sesame oil, and use a clean cloth to wipe off the excess.

Let your imagination guide you in finishing the flat ends.  Today we used buttons, but I also like to roam the neighborhood and see what the natural world has to offer–hazelnut tops, dried seeds, and shells all work.  Stick your chosen end on with a healthy dollup of strong craft glue, and stand them in a jar to dry.

If you are an experienced knitter, you might find knitting on wood to be a little “slow,” but they are great for beginners.  And if I am crabby or stressed, I like to knit with wooden needles–something about the combination of wood and wool is very calming (I can’t explain this, you’ll just have to try it yourself!).

Pretty Ruffled Scarf
I named one of my recent knitting projects  The Sweater From Hell.  It was a pretty Mission Falls pattern, with lots of gorgeous colors, but I had to pay all kinds of attention to it while I knit, counting, and doing math.  Who wants to do math while knitting?  I kept thinking, “When I finish this sweater, it’s going straight to the homeless shelter, and I’m going to recover by knitting a one-color garter stitch scarf.”  Which is exactly what happened.  But to make the scarf a bit more fun, I put a little ruffle at each end.  I was astonished to find that I got more compliments on this scarf than anything I’d ever knit before.  Part of it might be the pretty robin’s egg blue color,  but I think it is also the combined simplicity-and-whimsy.  Anyone who has mastered garter stitch can knit this scarf.  The perfect one-skein pattern to include with your needles/yarn gift.

When my mom saw mine, she wanted one, so I knit hers in soft green alpaca.

I made these scarves of worsted, but any weight will do.  Choose needles to get the texture you want, and decide how many stitches you need for your desired scarf width.  Using worsted weight wool and number nine needles, I made an 18-stitch-wide scarf.  Cast on 4x this number.

First Ruffle:
Row 1:  Knit
Row 2:  Knit two together across row
Row 3 and 4:  Knit
Row 5:  Knit two together across row
Then knit every row until your scarf is the desired length.  Sip eggnog.

Second Ruffle
Row 1:  Knit into front and back of each stitch across row (this will double your stitches)
Row 2 and 3:  Knit
Row 4:  Knit into front and back of each stitch (again doubling)
Row 5:  Knit
Bind off looslely.

The only tricky part here is the increasing of the last ruffle by knitting into the front and back of each stitch.  But if you’ve knit yourself all the way to the end of a scarf, you’ll be ready for it–it only sounds mysterious.  Any troubles?  Knitters LOVE to help beginning knitters.  Ask, and you’ll see.  Enjoy.

Warm face, warm ‘ands, warm feet
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?
–Eliza Doolittle

Cloth bags of heated grain are great for warming the bed or soothing sore muscles–much cozier than hot water bottles, and a nicer quality of heat.  I kept seeing them in boutique shops with shocking price tags, and whenever I asked what the bags were filled with, the shop proprietors would say it was a secret.   But one day a few years ago I saw one that had a suspicious little pile of rice in its packaging, and as soon as I got home I whipped up a bag for myself using rice from the pantry, and added a fleece cover while I was about it (no wonder the filling was a secret–who would pay $30 for a little bag of rice?).  I made one for each of us, and for my mom and dad and sister and in-laws and sundry friends.  We don’t know how we survived past winters without them.  At our house we put the warmed bags into the bed a few minutes before we crawl in ourselves. It makes such a huge difference.  These make great simple, handmade gifts, and you probably already have everything you need to stitch a few up.  Here’s what you do:

With a piece of standard copy paper as your pattern, cut two 8 1/2 x 11″ pieces  of cotton (muslin or calico works great).  Using a 1/2″ seam allowance, sew them together on three sides, wrong sides out.

Clip corners, turn, and press.  Fold the top edge in 1/2″ and press.

Add 5 cups of dry rice.  Any kind will work–I just use whatever’s cheapest in the bulk bins at the local coop.

Pin, and stitch 1/4″ from the edge.  You will want to hold the heavy bag up with one hand as you sew.

It’s nice to make the bag a cover–keeps it clean, and fleece feels so good.  Cut one piece of fleece 12 1/2 x 20 inches.  Finish the ends:  turn one of the short ends in 1/4″, and stitch.  Turn the other end under 1″ and stitch close to cut edge.  Topstitch 1/4″ inside of first stitching, if you like (this will be the side that shows on the outside).

With right side in, fold the end with the wider, topstitched hem up 5 3/4″ , and the side with the narrow hem down 4 3/4 “.  The edges will overlap in unequal thirds.

My mother gave me this pin cushion when I was seven. She made it when she was a Brownie, just seven years old herself. Sometimes a little of the sawdust filling comes out, but I love it.

Stitch the sides, clip the corners, and turn right side out. Slip the rice bag inside and you’re done!

Take the cover off to heat the bag in the microwave.  We usually heat ours for between 2 and 2 1/2 minutes–the time will vary according to your own oven.  The first couple of times you heat it, the bag will smell like cooking rice, but this is temporary–if the bag is a gift, you may want to heat it a couple of times before you give it, so your friend won’t be alarmed.  But don’t let the bag get wet before you heat it, or the rice really could cook, and then molder (this has never happened to me, but it could, don’t you think?).

Use the bag to warm the bed, snuggle it while reading on a cold winter’s night, or apply to tense, sore muscles.  Between these bags on our toes, and the hats on our heads, we stay warm at night and, here in temperate Seattle, we’re able to turn the heat off most nights all winter.  Enjoy!

In the world of eco-hip, we are expected to eschew Christmas hype, and I am as cynical about corporate, commercial, factory-made holidays as the next person.  But I love to celebrate the turning of the seasons, and believe deeply in reclaiming the light, richness, and beauty of  Solstice/Christmas time.  I know that it’s also become eco-fashionable to “give experiences” as gifts instead of stuff.  A great idea,  so I guess I have to fess up to being somewhat materialistic when I say  I don’t want a zoo pass.  I want you to make me something.  A poem, a drawing, a leaf-rubbing, a jar of your famous plum jam, a badly knitted hat, a beautifully knitted hat.  I want something I can behold and love and kiss.  And that’s what I like to give.

For hundreds of years before Christmas was on the calendar, Europeans celebrated the return of light at the Solstice by sharing gifts, a dip into the beautifully human realization that simple gifts freely given can lift the spirit, and that in the long dark of winter, a little spirit-lifting is essential.

Still.  I have been up late on too many Christmas Eves, tearful over unfinished knitting projects.  Handmade holidays do not restore our souls if they make us feel obligated, stressed, or rushed.  But I think I’m getting the hang of it.  In the next few weeks I’ll be sharing ideas and instructions for simple handmade gifts that are easy, practical, beautiful, relatively quick, inexpensive, and can be made few-by-few as the season progresses.  I hope they bring joy.

In that spirit, the “sanctity of giving” image above is from a holiday card series by local artist Dan Cautrell, whose beautiful lino-cuts grace my new book, Crow Planet (see a sample here).  All the Crow Planet prints, as well as Dan’s other prints and cards are available through his website (when we’re not making our own gifts we can support local artists who make things for us!).