Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Polonius, in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
and so said my father, often, ‘tho no scholar of Shakespeare he.
After he and Daphne finally paid off their modest mortgage he revised it to “there’s no better feeling than waking up in the morning knowing you don’t owe anything to anyone.”
That was the old way, to save up for something you wanted or put it on lay-by until you’d paid it off.
As a teenager I used to buy my yarn ball by ball on layaway at the wool shop in town. You had three months to pick it up. It meant that I could afford to knit with lovely quality wool and I learned to finish my projects in a timely fashion! Thank you, Ballantynes of Christchurch.
Knitting needles are like books when it comes to borrowing and lending. Best not to. A few months ago I started making a list of needles I’d lent to friends, but the problem with a list is that I forget where I wrote it.
A set of long, thin metal circulars were missing last week, just when I needed them for a crucial stage in the finishing of my new cardigan. I’d lent them out and taken note . . . . . . somewhere. Thankfully, the borrower remembered.
They arrived back shortly thereafter, accompanied by these lovely yellow roses.
If you’d like to make a doily for your vase of flowers, there’s no better book than Mary Thomas’s Book of Knitting Patterns. She covers doilies of all shapes, plain and lace. You can make them in any yarn, on any size needle, and the possibilities for expressing your creativity are endless. Best of all, you can use bits and bobs from your stash.
My doily is made with hemp, on 4mm needles.