Home Knitting

It's always exciting to receive a parcel from Amazon, and today was no exception when my copy of toast - the story of a boy's hunger by Nigel Slater dropped onto the mat. Like me, you may have watched the television adaptation of the book on television over Christmas starring, amongst other well known thespians, the lovely Helena Bonham Carter (notice a potential theme developing here?). It was a thoroughly enjoyable watch, and after being advised by fellow Addick Charlton Casual that the book is even better than the television version, it was only a matter of time before my internet shopping skills were dusted off for their first post-Christmas assignment. I'm really looking forward to reading toast just as soon as I've finished Started Early, Took my Dog by Kate Atkinson.

toast is the moving autobiographical account of TV chef Nigel Slater's childhood, which he recounts via a series of episodes revolving around food. 'Whatever happened to arctic rolls?' I found myself asking. Aside from Nigel's often heart-rending story, I was completely captivated by the period detail of the television adaption. It was all there, 1960s fashion, home furnishings, cuisine, cars and school life including the revolting warm and curdled milk we were forced to drink even when it had been fermenting outside all day in high summer. I was transported lock stock and barrel back to my childhood. It was wonderful.  I particularly enjoyed the selection of home knitted jumpers that young Nigel wore as his story unfolded. It reminded me of how when I was growing up my own Mum would always have a knitting project on the go. She loved knitting - I think it was a therapeutic and relaxing activity to counteract the challenges involved in bringing up 6 young boys, and boy was she good at knitting:

These are plain pullovers, but don't be fooled. Mum was perfectly capable of producing more detailed patterns of the kind Nigel wore in the television programme. Knit one, purl one - whilst today's young Mums are probably tweeting and texting on their iphones whilst watching Eastenders on their 50 inch plasma screens, back in the 1960s my Mum was busy producing woollen fashion items in sets of six whilst relaxing in front of The Virginian on our little black and white set. I'm sure there are still a few remaining knitters beavering away in a similar fashion in 2011, but home knitting is nowhere near as prevalent as it was back in the sixties and seventies. No doubt the same can be said about home cooking. In our case both were undoubtedly a necessity with six young boys to clothe as well as feed and all to a very tight budget.

It has to be said, though, that whilst the quality of the knitwear was always second to none, in retrospect the fashion sense sometimes left a lot to be desired, especially as we entered the 1970s:

Groovy man! But however larey these tanktops may seem with hindsight, none of us wearing them can have any complaints because we all asked Mum to knit them for us and chose the colours ourselves. The same cannot be said when it comes to the balaclavers we were forced to wear to school during the winter, however. I know they are practical, and I know they help to prevent earache, headache and other ailments, but they looked ridiculous and nobody else at Valley Primary School had to suffer the indignity of being forced to wear them to school every morning. 

Don't misunderstand me, I love my Mum dearly and I know that everything she did was because she believed it to be in our best interests. Occasionally however, albeit only very rarely, she got it wrong!