knitting

Post-tumble, lights still shine

I recently celebrated Shabbat morning in a way I don’t recommend. I stepped out of my house for the dog walk, thought, “Oh, slippery!” The next thing I knew, I lost my footing. I fell down several stone steps. I ended up on the sidewalk. I’d let go of the leash. My large dog stood patiently, looking concerned, as I lay on the front walk, assessing the situation.

We’ve had a long and temperate fall here in Winnipeg. The light glaze of ice that covered everything was an unfortunate surprise. I’m very lucky. I was able to get up. I went back up the front stairs with the dog and got help. While I’m bruised and my hands were bloodied, nothing broke. While I would have preferred to go right back to bed, I stayed active enough to manage the rest of the weekend. My kids volunteer at services, so I still had to go there, too. Sometimes, what we want isn’t possible, so we make the best of the situation.

I think about Hanukkah, and the adversity that Jews face, in this way. In the best possible situation, we wouldn’t have to fight physically or verbally to maintain our traditions. We would be able to celebrate in a full-throated way, without hesitation. Yet, that option doesn’t always feel possible, even if we might think that embracing Jewish joy is the best way forward.

The issue arose for me recently when I participated in an accessible “make along.” This event, called Fasten Off, has a period each fall where knitting and crochet designers offer a big discount on their downloadable patterns. It is intended to be as accessible as possible to people with disabilities, as well as those with other challenges. There are multiple categories of challenges: non-gendered, low-vision, sizing for those who are taller or larger than average. For the first time, this year, there was a category on the form that one could tick off that said, “marginalized religious group.” I really didn’t know what to do.

It’s true that my designs include kippot and a hamantashen baby rattle stuffie. I have never hidden my identity. Now, in Canada, Jews are a marginalized group, with documented hate crime numbers and antisemitism rising. However, I wondered what would happen if I checked off this box. Would it mean fewer people would buy my work? More? What benefit would it have? I both ticked off the box and contacted the organizer to mention my concern. I got no response at all, which made me feel even more worried.

My sales stats show what a huge shift the last two years have been. Previously, one of my kippah patterns, as an example, had been a dependable seller. I looked up this design’s sales and found I’d sold only about 16 kippah patterns (all styles) on three sales platforms during two years of the Gaza war. In the previous year, 2022/23, I sold 14 copies of this pattern on only one sales platform. As a result of this drastic sales drop (I have more than 80 designs online), I ended up taking a break from designing. It no longer became cost-effective to sink money into creating new designs when knitters no longer make even these small purchases. It doesn’t mean my business interests changed. The situation has. I’m still marketing my work, offering discounts and trying to attract interest – even while being part of a “marginalized group.”

Our tradition teaches us to pivot when things are challenging. In the Torah parsha (portion) Toldot, Isaac grows successful as a shepherd. (Genesis 26:13 and onwards) However, when he increases his household and flocks, he needs more water. When he digs new wells, he runs into trouble. First, the Philistines fill up his old wells and, then, as he moves onward, digging new ones, other herdsmen object. He pivots, digging new wells in new places until he finds one that works out. Meanwhile, in time, those who objected to him previously seek a reconciliation, seeing Isaac’s divine fortune, and they make peace. (Genesis 26:31)

After hearing this portion chanted in synagogue, a friend reminded me that sometimes being resilient means pivoting or waiting with patience when faced with adversity. Things don’t turn around right away. We both have engaged in a lot of Jewish advocacy and antisemitism education work over the past year together. She is a professional, public figure, while I tend to write and reach out behind the scenes as a volunteer. Sometimes, my efforts net quick responses, and I know what I said mattered. Other times, I have no idea if anyone received my email or if they read it. I keep trying, as I’m invested in this effort to make life better for Canadian Jews for the long haul.

I believe that bringing up issues concerning antisemitism education, equity reviews in schools and school curriculum matters makes a difference. Sometimes my message reaches the right reporter or school official. Sometimes, it doesn’t or it fails. Yet, in every situation, it’s important to pick myself up, dust myself off – and start all over again, even if the setbacks can hurt.

During Hanukkah, we celebrate the triumph of regaining religious freedom and peace. We use candles to illustrate the metaphor of bringing light to dark times. Sometimes that light is sweeter because of the struggle beforehand.

I’m still very sore from tumbling down our icy front steps, but I’m also incredibly grateful. This morning, the dog barked, asking for her walk and, while I may still be hobbling and bruised for a bit, I was able to get outside again.

That opportunity, to keep digging wells, reaching out to others and continuing to try? It matters. Some might see Jews as marginalized, but it’s also possible to take another read. Rather, we’re lucky and resilient, too, a people offering religious freedom and Hanukkah light to other nations.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Whimsical, huggable toys

Lea Bilot with some of her bearded gnomes. (photo from Lea Bilot)

Some artists find their niche, their preferred way of expression, early in life. For others, it takes longer, sometimes decades, to discover their creative outlet. Lea Bilot belongs to the second category.

For the past few years, Bilot has been knitting and selling her whimsical stuffed toys at fairs and craft markets around Greater Vancouver.

“I was born in Vilnius, Lithuania. That was where I grew up and got married,” she told the Independent. Later, her family immigrated to Israel, where they lived for 26 years. They came to Canada in 2015, following their adult children.

photo - Every one of Lea Bilot’s creations has its own expression — Every one of Lea Bilot’s creations has its own expression. *(photo from Lea Bilot)*

“I was never artistic before,” she said. Though perhaps she was, without realizing it. Creativity doesn’t usually spring out of nowhere. It surely shimmered inside her all along, finding unconventional channels among the demands of hard work and three growing children.

“When we came to Vancouver, my husband and I started flipping houses,” she said. “We did it for a few years, but then COVID happened. Everything stopped. I didn’t know what to do. My husband found a job, but I was bored out of my mind.”

She searched for an avenue to apply her fertile imagination.

“We went to our community centre once, and there was a craft fair there. I liked the knit toys someone was selling, but I thought: I could do better. And the idea stuck.”

Never having made a knit toy before, Bilot did some research on the internet.

“I don’t speak good English,” she said. “So, I contacted a friend in Israel and asked if she could find me some books in Russian on the subject. She did and sent them.”

Bilot read all the books and then began to experiment.

“At first, I knitted some children’s clothing, but I don’t do that anymore,” she said. “Now, I concentrate on toys. I don’t copy what the books say either. I improve on them, make changes. I might use legs from one toy, hats from another, whatever fits my vision. Sometimes, I just follow my muse. Or I might find something new on the internet. There are several groups on Facebook, and we share information. We also help each other, when one of us hits a snag.”

Lea Bilot also makes other creatures, such as aliens. *(photo from Lea Bilot)*

The variety of toys Bilot creates is astounding. Her output includes some common animals – dogs, cats, bears and rabbits – as well as owls in graduation hats, aliens with antennas and gnomes with beards. Each one has its own expression; no two are identical. For the winter holiday markets, she makes colourful Christmas trees with legs and hats, and snowmen decorated with buttons.

“I don’t knit snowmen – I make them from socks,” she said. “And, for my Christmas trees, I started to crochet. I’ve only been doing it for a few months.”

She derives her ideas from everywhere.

“I once saw a man on the street with a big bushy beard. He was a short and fat older man, and his beard was white. I thought: that is my gnome.”

Her home is half living space, half workshop.

“I have so much yarn now, I need to put it somewhere I can easily access,” she explained. “I put all my clothing in cardboard boxes, and my yarn into my dresser’s drawers.”

Most of her yarn is acrylic.

“Some children are allergic to wool. They like to hug their toys, kiss them, sleep with them. I have to use acrylic for the toys,” she said. “And I buy only expensive yarn: from Denmark, from Turkey, from Lithuania. I don’t use cheap local yarn – it doesn’t last long. Children put their toys to hard use. The toys need to be washable and durable.”

photo - Lea Bilot’s handmade owls — Lea Bilot’s handmade owls. *(photo from Lea Bilot)*

From design to execution to sales, Bilot enjoys every step of the toy-making process.

“I love making them. Sometimes, when I want to finish one, I wouldn’t sleep for half the night. It is such a joy making all those details – skirts, boots, glasses – and coming up with new concepts, new patterns.”

She loves selling the toys as well.

“People don’t always buy them, but, whenever they pass my table, they smile. Women, children, even men – they all smile. Children are very well behaved, too. They would handle my toys, hug them – I make them soft and extremely huggable – but they don’t demand that parents buy them, don’t throw fits. It’s always a pleasure to be around them. That’s why I don’t offer my toys to any stores. I want to witness those smiles.”

Bilot sells her toys several times a year at craft fairs at community centres, schools and even universities.

“There are websites for artisans like me,” she said. “They list all the fairs. I would drive to those fairs first, see what they are selling, what the conditions are, before applying to them as a vendor for the next time. My husband helps, he drives me around. And my daughter helps with the application process.”

When asked if she gets any income out of her full-time toy-making hobby, Bilot laughed. “I cover the price of yarn,” she said, “and a bit above it, but not much. Mostly, I do it for the fun of it.”

To see Bilot’s creations and be ready when she next tables at a market, visit instagram.com/leas_knittings.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Legacy seniors knit gift

The finished scarves, each individually packaged, and including a warm message. (photo from Legacy Senior Living)

Last month, residents of Legacy Senior Living (the Leo Wertman Residence) gave a gift of warmth to residents of New Beginnings, a temporary housing complex for Indigenous individuals. On Oct. 7, nearly 100 hand-knitted scarves, each with an uplifting message – such as “Warm Wishes,” “Smile” and “Enjoy!” – were delivered from the independent living retirement home in Vancouver’s Oakridge area to the housing complex, which is located at Heather and 33rd.

A scarf in progress at Legacy Senior Living (the Leo Wertman Residence) — A scarf in progress. *(photo from Legacy Senior Living)*

The idea for the project came almost a year ago. It was organized in January, and jumpstarted by a $200 grant from the Vancouver Foundation to fund the purchase of wool. Between 10 and 20 residents regularly participated; some teaching others how to knit, others brushing up on their knitting skills. They worked together while socializing, coming together weekly for a knit-and-chat session.

“When my mother lived at Legacy, I used to knit with her for therapeutic purposes,” said Annette Wertman, who organized the effort. “Then, I thought, maybe knitting would be a good activity for the residents of Legacy Senior Living. We had a meeting of those interested – and the idea took off! We applied for a grant and were so pleased to receive one from the Vancouver Foundation. While the COVID lockdown altered the way we gathered to knit together, we followed the health protocols and still managed to knit 98 scarves! And it’s perfect that we finished this in October, a more appropriate time to donate these scarves.”

photo - The delivery of scarves, just in time for winter, to New Beginnings — The delivery of scarves, just in time for winter, to New Beginnings. *(photo from Legacy Senior Living)*

Not only was it a more appropriate time weather-wise, but the donation took place around Thanksgiving. The Legacy knitters were grateful to be able to make “a small but warm contribution to the community.”

“Our residence, built in memory of Leo Wertman, is a vision of inclusion, diversity and philanthropy within the Jewish community, and of our broader local community,” said Wertman, a cousin of the residence’s namesake. “We all felt very good about our project and have already begun the next project – toques and blankets!”

From beginning again

Recently, I decided to conquer an inner anxiety and do something new. It wasn’t skydiving or anything dangerous. I was hoping to follow a pattern and sew myself some clothes. I write knitting patterns, so am very familiar with the notion of “winging it” and making my own design, but I needed to go back to the beginning with sewing.

As a teen, my mom insisted I take sewing lessons and my dad did them with me. (My dad was good at it and made himself a bathrobe and the upholstery for a convertible he restored!) The sewing assignment was to counteract my terrifying enthusiasm for my mom’s fabric and yarn stash. I’d dive into her stuff, grab scissors, cut fabric up and make things. For instance, I made myself shorts out of some old Winnie-the-Pooh curtains – and my mom was livid. Why? Well, she’d sewn those curtains for me as a kid in the first place. As a teenager, I couldn’t figure what she was saving them for, and I likely upset her by “taking her stuff” and hurting her feelings. She made something, and I remade it without asking. Worse than that, I didn’t use a pattern to do it!

My mom’s discipline as a seamstress came from required dressmaker/tailoring coursework she’d taken at Cornell University. When she was a student there, young women had to take home economics. My mom already could sew like nobody’s business, but she learned a lot from those required courses. It made her crazy to see me break all the rules.

Her reaction to my freeform creativity is probably what made me so anxious about my ability to follow a pattern as an adult. It was a mental block. Even though I am fully capable of it, I still feel anxiety when I face the tissue paper cutouts and instructions.

Now that I have sewn one dress, following a pattern exactly, I’ll let the truth out. I’m halfway through a second sort of vest/tunic based on the first dress pattern, and I’m already winging it. Once I started again from the beginning, I regained my crazy freeform gusto. I can’t hold back!

Each year, we, as a Jewish people, start something right from the beginning. We begin reading the Torah, starting with the creation of the world. We jump into B’reishit, Genesis, and we hear a familiar story. Some people roll their eyes, saying, I’ve heard this before. However, like learning anything new (sewing, for instance), the learning curve is steep. There is a lot in there.

As a sewer, I saw things I missed the first time I followed a pattern. I didn’t do something wrong, I was just less practised before; I was a beginner. Those of us who have been studying Jewish texts every year, reading the Torah portion or commentaries or Midrash – well, we all start out as beginners and eventually become more immersed in the material. There is always something rich, new and different to consider or pursue as we read it again.

It’s like rereading a favourite novel. Now that I know how it’s going to end, I don’t have to rush. I can enjoy all the twists, the foreshadowing, the way the writer uses the language in telling us the story. I see and understand things that I might have missed in a first reading.

I’m not going to lie. Just like sewing, knitting, cooking or building something you’ve made before, rereading the text can feel rote, like you are on autopilot. Sometimes reading a familiar text is actually an opportunity to meditate on something different altogether.

This morning, I dug into making that vest because I needed something with pockets to go with my Shabbat skirts or dress pants. I wanted to make something that would come out OK in a life or world that sometimes seems very unpredictable.

By the time you read this, Simchat Torah and the Canadian federal election will be weeks over, but our new year is really just beginning. It’s a time of great potential, even as the light fades earlier each day. We have so much good and creative work ahead of us. Rereading B’reishit gives a chance to relive something magical and important to our identity as Jewish people – an origin story. At the same time, the characters of Genesis offer us insights into today, into our lives, identities, families and communities.

It’s true that sewing is an old-fashioned skill that I’m getting a hold of again. However, like Genesis, we can say “Look! Everything old is new again!” and jump into learning with emotion – and enthusiasm.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. See more about her at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.