Being late to knitting, I’m often jealous of people who grew up with it in their family. In fact, the woman who infected me with said passion is (at least) a third-generation knitter. (Hey, B, when’s your episode with Beema and your mother airing?) I feel like I missed out on the passing down of knowledge, tradition and family history. I’m no Knitty’s Amy; it’s just the opposite. Heck, I’m the guy my mom calls for advice for her friends—have you ever tried to describe a SSK on a cell phone?

Thanks to a kind and dear friend from work, my feeling of being left out has been replaced with a deep gratitude and a sense of honor. While cleaning out her basement, Leslie came across her mother-in-law’s needle stash and entrusted them to my care. Benthe’s son Peter doesn’t knit, and Leslie is a crochet-er (now armed with Benthe’s hooks), so she was kind enough to think of me! I was floored when she handed me a grocery bag that rattled with weight of aluminum, resins, metal and such. I am now guardian of Benthe’s valued tools (ranging in size from #0’s to #15’s):

• 13 pairs of 14″
• 4 pairs of 13″
• 2.5 pairs of 12″
• 20 pairs of 10″
• 4 circulars
• 84 individual dpns
• 3 stitch holders
• and a metric/English (not US) needle gauge.

Benthe grew up in Denmark and moved to the U.S. as a young woman. I knew she was a knitter from my first day at work, as Leslie gave me a mini bear from Benthe. This was long before I knit, and I wondered what kind of compulsive person would hand-make gifts for strangers. She was prolific and generous with her craft.

Today, Benthe is still very much alive, and I hope to do her needles justice. I never thought I’d have more needles than yarn. Anyone need a bear?

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 21st, 2006 at 9:37 pm and is filed under knitting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.