Since my friend American Editor became pregnant with her IVF (donor eggs and sperm) twins last year, my mother has been merrily knitting. Little Erin and Bennett were born in February and the completed knits have just arrived in two gaily coloured parcels.
I think they are cot blankets. If so, they are well-timed, as Sydney is experiencing an unusually cold snap at the moment which is made worse because most of the buildings here are not double-glazed, insulated or centrally heated.
Why has my mother spent all these months knitting with arthritic fingers for the babies of a woman she has never met, who lives on the other side of the planet? You may well ask.
For four reasons, I think:
1) Keeping her hands and fingers active helps alleviate her arthritis.
2) She is bored out of her mind in Anglesey, living with my father in a village on an island off the north coast of Wales. *shudder*
3) She is trying to tell me that she approves of American Editor’s choice, i.e. to go ahead and have children even though she is single and over 40. Probably because she thinks its the only way she’s going to see any grandchildren from her eldest daughter (me).
4) She loves children, likes creative projects and enjoys giving presents. My mother often makes me snarl with impatience and frustration but noone can deny that she has a kind, generous spirit.
I was desperate to open the parcels to see the finished blankets because, despite the fact that my mummy taught me to knit when I was 5, I don’t remember her ever actually completing a knitting project (or, indeed, any project). I want proof. As do my siblings.