It comes in many colors, both plain and mixed. It is useful as well as decorative. And at every church fair in our area this fall, you will see it made into dishcloths of various shapes and patterns.
The cotton dishcloth was new to me. And frankly I’m still not quite sure when to use one. I was visiting one of my older ladies just before vacation and saw one in active use beside her kitchen sink. I hate to think of getting the cute little things dirty. I’m a sponge and paper towel user myself. But although I cannot seem to find a job for the little cotton dishcloths at my house, I have become an enthuiastic dishcloth knitter.
The beauty of the dishcloth lies in its limitations. It is the work of an evening, the length of a feature film, the size of a handkerchief and therefore suitable for carrying everywhere. It is a low-stress item. And even the priciest dishcloth yarn is inexpensive.
Earlier this summer I took on a lace project. I managed to get through the first pattern chart without having a nervous breakdown, but I must say that after putting it on the mantel for sakekeeping from cats and dogs, I never picked it up again. The thought of knitting with that kind of intense focus for 12 increasing repeats plus one more chart was too much for me.
Dishcloth knitting is zen knitting. Once you know your pattern, you don’t have to think much about it. It becomes a meditation, a friendly companion, a happy meeting of effort and color and completion.
The Procrastiknitter is sponsoring a Dishcloth Exchange. The sign-ups are open until midnight on Thursday. Believe me, anyone can knit a dishcloth! Think about signing up! Who knows? I might be your partner, and you could receive something like this!
(Which I’m sure you would like, even if you didn’t know quite what to do with it!)