First Person
Dishrags: A Love Story
When my friend Joyce invited my husband Michael and me to her big 70th birthday bash on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala, the first thing I did after sending an enthusiastic We’ll be there! was panic.
In lieu of presents, we were asked to share our special talent with everyone. Already guests were offering yoga classes, tarot readings, hikes.
The last time I had to share my talent was in 1976, when I was a freshman orientation leader at the University of Rhode Island and the counselors had to perform in a Gong Show to entertain the incoming freshman. People pulled out their guitars and batons, their ballet slippers and harmonicas. Me? I did terrible impersonations of Jimmy Stewart, Katherine Hepburn, and James Cagney. By the time I reached Cagney—“You dirty rat, you’re they guy who killed my brother”—I was, thankfully, gonged and could retreat while a trio sang “Puff the Magic Dragon” in perfect harmony.
I certainly wasn’t going to brush off my impersonations in Guatemala. My other talents—ace parallel parker, speed reader, deadline meeter—were not sharable either. Truly, I spend most of my days writing, reading, and knitting. Aha! That’s when it hit me: dishrags. I would knit Joyce seventy dishrags.
“You cannot knit seventy dishrags in three months,” my daughter Annabelle told me. Her point was well taken.
“Seven then,” I amended. “One for each decade.”
“Doable,” Annabelle said.
With visions of dishrags dancing in my head, I began.
Dishrags one through six.
I learned to knit in October of 2002, six months after my five-year-old daughter Grace died suddenly from a virulent form of strep throat. Until that terrible April day we lost Gracie, reading and writing were my forms of comfort. I read when I wanted to escape the world and I wrote when I sought to understand it better.
But after Grace died, I could do neither of these. It was like my brain stopped working. I would pick up a People magazine or a New York Times and be able to read words, but I could not put them into any coherent order.
My friends Heather and Hillary, both visual artists, urged me to get out of my head and do something with my hands. “Like what?” I asked desperately, because I was very desperate in those days. “Learn to knit,” they said. And so, I did.
Like many knitters, I began with scarves. Dozens of scarves. Then I moved on to hats—Circular needles! Purling! 2×2 ribbing! I even knit several pairs of misshapen socks.
One day, I came upon Ann Shayne and Kay Gardiner’s knitting book and there, like a gift, was the pattern for a Ballband Dishcloth. Kay found it on a skein of cotton yarn and passed it on to hungry knitters like me.
Dishrag number seven, made by beginning knitter Michael Ruhlman, Ann’s spouse who wanted in on the fun.
You cast on 45 stitches and work 13 rows of what Kay calls “bricks” but to beginning knitter me were a dizzying amount of slip 1 purlwise and yf and yb. I was giddy with new techniques, and possibility.
A trip to my local Michaels craft store left me gobsmacked in front of endless rows of cotton yarn in Tea Rose and Beach Glass and Blueberry, as well as stripey yarns with names like Yuletide and Psychedelic. Unlike the expensive stuff I was buying for my scarves and hats, this yarn was cheap. Dirt cheap! I bought armfuls in every color and thus began my Summer of Dishrags.
Dishrags are portable; they fit in a Zip-Lock bag. From Vermont to France and everywhere in between, I knit dishrags.
When my friend had his wisdom teeth out, I gave him a dishrag that he wrapped ice in and held to his swollen jaw. When another friend got married, I knit her three dishrags in white, ivory, and ballet pink.
I even knit them as hostess gifts. My friend Kimberly said, “I fell in love with my little, colorful square and each day while using it I would think about the memories we’ve shared and just smile.” Yes, dishrags bring that much happiness.
For Joyce, I knit dishrags in the colors of the cover on her latest novel The Bird Hotel. Purple and red and orange. Oh! The joy of knitting happy birthday wishes into every stitch! Such is the pleasure of knitting dishrags, a pleasure that never grows old. As Kimberly says, “A little square can go a long way.”
These days, I have graduated to sweaters and shawls, colorwork and brioche. But there are still times when all I want is a pair of number 7 needles and a couple of balls of bright cotton yarn. There are times when a simple dishrag can work magic.
Lovely article, beautiful dish rags. My problem with knitting dishrags is once they’re completed I can’t possibly use them to do dishes as they get all messy and are forever stained.
Mine get mysteriously cut quite often. I have embraced visible mending and use them until they are literal rags. It’s a weird joy and once they have a stain or fade in the wash it really doesn’t matter. Yes, we are careful with the knives, I think it could be trying to clean the food processor that slits them. I’ve given up trying to keep them perfect and just use them.
Lindy, I don’t use my to warsh dishes. I wet them and use countertop spray to clean the counters. Hang up to dry on my kitchen faucet. Washing machine everyday and get a new one out of the drawer. If it’s smelly even after going through the washing machine, I pop a damp one into the microwave for 30 secs or so. They last a long time and really don’t get stained, unless they are white!
Great tip!
Yes! When my mother-in-law died she had cotton yarn in her craft bin and a hand written dish rag pattern. I knit all the yarn up and gave them away to family and friends; after keeping some for myself. I love to use them to tidy the counters and such.
That’s lovely!
What a lovely tribute to your mother-in-law.
My greatest story about hand knit cotton cloths, that many people use in the shower or bath, is about one of our grandsons when he was just two years old. His mother, our daughter, handed him a regular wash cloth. He looked at her and forcefully stated, “No, a grama cloth!” I often knit cloths that are a bit smaller than a regular dishcloth and give them to young children. Using. Really soft cotton yarn I give them to mothers with new babies.
Thank you for your lovely article. I send my warmest hugs to embrace your loss and sorrow. I too, lost a child suddenly at age 23. He was an athlete and had a heart attack after playing basketball. Gone in the blink of an eye, our beautiful son. Knitting was all I could manage in the years to follow, the only thing that penetrated the fog. The click, click of the needles provided solace and a way forward – a stitch, then a row, a project done. I became voracious in my need to learn, anything to occupy my hands and my mind, until finally the fog began to lift and my new reality became my everyday. Knitting saved my life and my sanity. Unknown to them, Kay and Ann were there for me then as and have been ever since.
Oh Robyn, I send warm hugs to you too. Knit on, friends
Dear Robin, my heart goes out to you. Thank you for sharing this memory, such a heartbreaking time. I know what you mean about knitting being the only thing to do with oneself at such a time. Sending love, grateful that you’ve been reading MDK.
Ann,
You and Kay have been part of my life since your Mason Dixon partnership went public. Always there in the background with those little nuggets urging me on my journey- be it life and/or knitting. Just wanted you to know that your efforts to reach out and touch someone has and I’ll always be grateful. -Robyn
This means so much, Robyn. I am so sorry for the loss of your son and so glad knitting helped you and Ann and me and so many others to stay standing even in despair. xoxoxo
I once made a shadow knitting maple leaf dishrag for a friend who was moving home to Canada, there are many shadow knit motifs on Ravelry. And I use my dishrags for coasters under a hot mug or plate of food.
What a great idea!
Made me smile ( and my fingers itch to do a little dishcloth)!
Me too, they are such fun to make!
Thank you. Thank you.
Oh! I read your books! Looks like I have another one to look forward to!
Thank you!
That book is still so great too. I don’t know how many Ballband dishrags I’ve knit but it’s a lot. Recently I sent some new ones to my sister-in-law and I always have to pull out the pattern for a quick refresher. It also has the Baby Genius burp cloth guaranteed to make that baby smarter. No clue how many of those I’ve cranked out but I’m knitting some now to send to a cousin’s new grandchild. Long may the classics comfort us and spread our love.
Sad yet lovely story!
Interestingly, I recently knitted dishrags for my niece so was moving cross country to teach in a university. I told her to think of me when sh did dishes or wiped counters. Today I read your blog and realized my idea was great but NOT original!!
I’ve given Ball Band dishcloths to friends and I have also received them from knitting friends. They do hold up well!!
Thanks Ann for your article. I read The Knitting Circle many years ago.
Thank you!
I loved Ann’s book The Knitting Circle. It is full of ache, but also the joy one can find on the other side. And ball band dishcloths are, by far, the most fun to knit. Especially as a way to use up the odds and ends from other projects. Sometimes I plan the colorways; other times I just pull from the bag. They all look fabulous and bring joy. And giving them away is the best gift of all.
Thank you!
I love everything about this. Finding some solace in hand work after an unimaginable loss, the joy of color (and inexpensive yarn!), the profound happiness of making something for someone else. And, of course, the portability of a dishrag project everywhere, all the time. Thank you for sharing. I am going to shop for some bright cotton yarn today!
I also found the ball band dishcloth “recipe” in the first MDK book.
My favorite way to make them now is to use black for the base and then use different colors of variegated yarn for the bricks. As in, each row of bricks is a different yarn.
Using up those leftovers!!
It’s a lot of weaving in ends but I only make these for special people, so I think about them when I’m knitting them, knowing how much they will appreciate it.
My best friend took the one I made her and had it framed and it hangs proudly in her kitchen.
Wow! Black! I’m definitely going to try this!
I love Kay’s pattern for the https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/linoleum-dishcloth. I made a few and wrap them around a nice bar of soap and give as a gift. My old ballband dishcloth held up surprisingly well even when I cleaned the outdoor grill recently!
I love her Linoleum dishrag pattern too! It’s almost always my go-to dishrag pattern. They are a bit small for me, and I have small hands. So I figured out the math on how to add an extra pattern repeat and they work better. So fun to play with colors in this one; the pattern is totally worth for few dollars.
I almost wept with joy when, years ago, I found Ann and Kay’s first book in a bookstore (remember those?). Those dishcloths and log cabins were my joy. The first thing I did was make a log cabin blanket. My kitchen is filled with those same dishcloths-little ones for the washing, and big ones for the drying. Every year or two, I break out my big bin of cotton and go to town. I’m so sorry for your loss. I love your use of color!
I love their book!
How do I find this pattern?
Here’s a pattern on Ravelry, nice that you can see 11,000 plus examples! https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/ballband-dishcloth
https://www.canadianliving.com/home-and-garden/knitting-and-crochet/article/knit-a-ballband-dishcloth
Oh, thank you for calling them dishrags! It’s just what they are. I, too, love knitting them as a large project amuse bouche and sometimes to give as a gift. But using them as dishrags stymies me. They almost always smell bad, and bleaching them in the wash just ruins the fun colors that made the knitting fun. Yes, I put out a clean one often, but methinks it’s because my hubby just never wrings them out properly, just squeezes which only leaves the soggy mess to fester with bacteria before I can get to it. Any suggestions?? PS– I learned to knit with dishrags, thanks to the pre-internet book by Michelle Hunter, Building Blocks. Great patterns for learning stitches.
Great book recommendation!
I think hubby just needs to wring harder!
This is one of my go-to patterns, and I have one on the needles right now. The current one is for a charity, but I’ve given many as gifts, too.
Always good to have one on the needles!
I treasure my dishrags. But they are way too precious to use on dishes. One lives over mybtoadter. One, the Cuisinart. One over my coffee maker.
I love how you display them!
I love that Michael gets in on the action, always a renaissance mensch!
You know he is!
Another great tribute to dishrags! They’re always a soothing portable project in knit or crochet. We have a lovely family friend who only knits corner-to-corner dishrags…it’s what she loves to do. She loves to host friends and family too and keeps a stack of dishrags in each kitchen (they also have a lake house) – every houseguest gets to take a pair of her colorful creations home with them.
I love that she does this!
I’ve knit dish cloths for each of my children as they launch into their first apartments. And – as Ann & Kay have shown us, they are wonderful for trying out new techniques, as well as being suitable for the most mindless knitting in times of trouble, or with a bit more challenge when you’re brain needs a stretch! What a great gift for a birthday.
What a great idea!
Dishrags got me through Covid. I made 17 of them. It was all my brain could handle. I’m assuming you didn’t find a Yankees jersey behind your washer.
They are great for foggy brains!
This is a lovely story about the power of healing with knitting something simple. Knitting can be magic. I am sorry this came about because you lost your daughter. I loved this article. Thank you for sharing.
It is magic, yes!
When I am in a rut, either in life or in my knitting, I haul out my dishcloth yarn bin. There is something soothing about knitting a dishcloth.
My first dishcloth was the ballband dishcloth, from the early days of MDK. Now I knit them using fingering cotton on size one needles. It takes longer, but they are beautiful and dry faster.
I was a freshman at URI in 1976 also. I can remember knitting in my unheated rental house in Narragansett and my roommates laughing at me. Knitting has also seen me through some hard times in my life. Looking forward to reading your new book
In January I started my “rage knitting” period. I felt so powerless at the state of the world. I went through my stash and knit cowls and hats and dishcloths upon dishcloths. I give them away like butterscotch candies.
I have read several of Ann Hoods books. Knitting can truly be a great escape.The dishcloths are lovely and so nice to give a part of yourself to others. I may need to make one ..or two..
I am with you I knit dish rags as well. I have found books with different patterns but, I always go back to the one my aunt taught me. Cast on 4 knit two yo and knit to end this is what you do for 42 stitches. Then ready to decrease. Knit two yo knit to knit across when you are down to four stitches. Left cast of four and cloth is done.
I made about 15 knitted corner to corner “dishrags” that I use to wash my face before I go to bed. I use a clean one every night. After using, they dry on a hook out of sight in the bathroom and from there, go to the laundry basket.
I make them with animal themes one is water animals one is farm animals one is birds one is kids toys one is cats and dogs one is wild animals one is bugs and one is different heart I usually do 5 or more in each theme