Life With Wool
Hold Me Closer, Tiny Blanket


Greetings from Maine.
My mind is in autumn but the cold weather isn’t here yet. There’s just enough chill in the mornings to think about pulling out the thicker cardigan, but then it warms up and we’re back to September. So I sit on the porch, protected from the last flesh-biting bugs of the season, and I content myself by knitting little squares.
Technically you’d call them swatches. But they aren’t the kind that most knitters think of when they hear that word. My little squares have no relation to gauge or measurement at all. They serve as morning stretches, moving meditations, a universe in and of themselves.
These swatches ground and center and satisfy. They give me permission to play without consequences. They keep my fingers nimble, they give my mind room to roam. Best of all, they will never become burdensome UFOs. The Rule of Swatchtopia is that you cast on, you knit until you’ve had your fill, and then you bind off. All done, all in one sitting.

My swatches also serve as turbocharged dopamine machines. The first hit comes when you cast on. The next, when you reach the zone with your stitches. Then, when you bind off. A fourth hit comes when you finish darning the end, and a fifth when you drop that tiny blanket into a relaxing bath of warm sudsy water. Another drip of dopamine comes when you admire your washed swatch, gently tapped into shape and relaxing on a towel.
Here comes a forced waiting period that’s rare and vital in this era of instant gratification. We cannot, we should not try to speed up the drying process, especially when wool is involved. Wool and moisture have secrets we mere mortals cannot hear. No, we must set out our swatch and step away.
Inevitably, we forget about our swatch until later in the day. Another shot of dopamine! There it sits, like a frosted cake under glass, just waiting for us. It’s all puffed and smoothed and rinsed and dried and done.

Lest you think that knitting a small square is a waste of time, especially when you have that birthday present and Rhinebeck sweater to finish, I offer an alternative perspective. Taking ten minutes to make a tiny blanket is no less of a waste than Czerny exercises to a pianist or stretches to an athlete. If anything, they make you a better knitter by keeping your fingers nimble. They bring your hands and mind back into calibration before you set about forming any stitches of consequence.
But what about the yarn? How can we possibly waste yarn on something so pointless? We’ve all been trained to think about knitting primarily in terms of what it produces. We can’t just knit a mindless square for the pure pleasure of knitting a mindless square. It has to become something—a fingerless mitt or pincushion or glasses case or lavender sachet, a piece for a quilt or a pillow. Anything!
Beware the trap. The minute we start thinking about our swatch in terms of what else it could become, it ceases to be a meditation and becomes a task.

That said, I do have one compromise. It’s something I didn’t even whisper in my upcoming Knit Stars Season 10 masterclass about swatching, that I’ll share with you now. During the transitional month of October, when the mind craves the coziness of winter but the weather won’t support it yet, my swatches bridge the gap by becoming tiny blankets.
Who couldn’t use an occasional tiny blanket at this time of year? These swatches are just big enough to fit in your hands, small enough to be finished in one sitting, substantial enough to satisfy your autumnal wool urgings, and insubstantial enough to keep you from overheating.

Should my left knee feel a slight chill while I’m out on the porch waiting for autumn to arrive, out comes a tiny blanket. Should my rubber ducky catch a chill by the window, out comes a tiny blanket. Doorknob starting to bristle at the draft from that open porch door? Tiny blanket. Tub faucet needing a boost before the heat comes on? Blanket.
How about that cup of tea? Or that soft-boiled egg? Or that duck with a broken beak that sits by the fireplace, waiting for the first fire of the season?
The more you look, the more you’ll discover a world that could benefit from a tiny blanket.

The rest of the year, you get to enjoy the distinct pleasure of piling your washed and plumped swatches higher and higher and higher. There they sit, ready for that inevitable day when all motivation is gone, when you can’t even stomach the idea of swatching, much less figuring out that half-finished sweater you abandoned two years ago.
When this morning arrives, you can pull out your pile and flip through the swatches like a magical deck of cards, letting all the colors and textures and memories of mornings past refill your spirit with the urge to cast on once again.
I love this!Knitting just for the joy of it. And the magical creatures that come out at night might need a tiny blanket every now and then !
I so love this. Thank you!
What a wonderful idea! Thank you.
To echo previous comments, I love this! I am in need of “hospital knitting” these days, but my mind has been too overwhelmed to think about following even the simplest of patterns. But, a tiny blanket; I can do that!
Last year I was in Suzanne Bryan’s bootcamp I, II, and III. For a year I studied knitting and we made swatches to learn techniques. The swatches went into my binder to keep order to them. But besides the weekly class with homework, I needed small projects to keep me busy, so I began knitting hats. I didn’t want a big project – but just a project that I could pick up and keep busy with. The whole year I knit hats and they began to pile up in my house. So near the holidays I brought a big bag of the hats to my dentist’s office and told the front desk person to have everyone try on a hat and take one. While I was having my teeth cleaned, I heard giggles from the bathroom. Everyone was trying them on and laughing. That was fun. But I still had a lot of hats left. So I went to Marshalls and purchased a very nice wicker basket and I placed it on a table in my living room. I put the remaining hats in the wicker basket and the colors just flowed. They look so nice in that basket and they are a gift just waiting to happen when someone is in my home and needs one. I’ve decided that for this season hats will continue to be on my needles. That basket will overflow again. Your swatch pile reminded me of my hat pile. You may want to head over to Marshalls for that wicker basket. Those swatches would simply look beautiful in a nice wicker basket displayed for the everyone to see.
Wonderful idea!❤️❤️❤️
Thanks Clara. Do you note somehow in your knitting what needles you used or let that go too?
Now, THAT (tiny blankets that are not gage swatches) is a perfect idea! Thank you for the suggestion… I am going to grab some fabulous and fun Luminosa from my stash, and see what can happen in 30 min of “meditation” before this day is over.
Such a joyful post to wake up to this morning! Thank you, Clara
Prayer cloths! (Or thinking of you cloths depending on your persuasion). Share the love!
Any given toddler in one’s universe will ADORE these. My granddaughter found my box o’ swatches and said “Oh Birdie, thank you for making blankets for all my babies!”. I find them tenderly tucked around Lego people, hot wheels cars, and even her toothbrush. What vision!
There may be a small blanket stash at my house by spring! Thanks for the permission. I had no idea I needed that.
What a joyful way to start the day!
Wow. Clara. You are blowing my mind.
This fits so well with Dana’s “use the good stuff” essay from a few days ago.
The whole idea that it is not a waste of yarn to knit a small square of something. That a whole pile of small squares does not have to be seamed together into something “useful.” That we can enjoy the knitting and the yarn without having to “make something.” That there is joy in the knitting and the yarn and the textures and the colors themselves. Like nature. Like art. Maybe both at the same time.
Awhile back, Sarah Swett posted a photo of a stunning sweater she pieced together from years of beautiful and varied swatches.