   
Dishcloths to Get
Through the Sorrow
by Rita O'Connell
I like to knit dishcloths out of ecru cotton – usually
leftovers from the doilies I make as wedding gifts. I find that they don't get too
dingy, or I could easily bleach them, even in chlorine bleach (they'd be white
then instead of ecru, but that would be OK). Most of them are
made of 3-4 strands of size 10 DMC Cebelia on size 5 needles or so. I find
that I like my washcloths a little on the thin side and made of a firmly spun
fiber, and I usually make a diagonal garter stitch square (same pattern as the Shrunken Hot Pad,
but without the hanging loop) or just a simple
garter stitch square. I've also made the peacock washcloth, but I find
that it's too big for my tastes.
I never made dishcloths until my sister, Agnes, crocheted and knitted dishcloths
as gifts for us about 10 years ago. I found that I liked using the
handmade cloth better than store bought ones, and I thought of her every time I
used it. So I started making them for me and as gifts, especially as part
of a housewarming gift.
Then, in 1999 my father was hospitalized unexpectedly for 10 days and I spent
those days sitting with him and my mother. I couldn't just sit there with
nothing to do with my hands, but I hadn't planned ahead well enough to bring
suitable knitting projects that were simple. I had all my needles
and tools with me (except for the ball winder, swift, and drop spindle, my
entire knitting tool collection fits in my largest of the Plano Guide series tackle
box), but I didn't have the right yarn. So I stopped at a craft store (no
time to get to the yarn store during open hours) and bought several balls of
crochet cotton (I don't remember the brand). And I knitted dishcloths and
more dishcloths. By the time we took Dad home, I'd made five or six
dishcloths. I gave them away to my sisters, brother, and mom before I
left, and kept one for myself.
It was a sad time, because Dad died only a few weeks later, but Mom still tells
me of how she appreciates that dishcloth and thinks of me and of Dad whenever
she uses it. I'm glad, though, that the one I kept is very similar to the
many others I've made so I never know which one I knitted during that sad time.
Thanks for letting me tell you a story about a hard time that knitting helped me
through.
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