Purls of Wisdom

Video Transcript

I’m a very lucky old lady at 83. I’ve had a lovely life. And I’m ready in the departure lounge…ready to go up there…to die.

I just said that they must make sure that I am dead. I said to Tania, ‘Now listen here…I don’t want to lie in a hospital with a pipe in my mouth. You look to see who’s looking, and you pull those pipes out, and you run.’

I love life. We’re so fortunate to be alive, aren’t we? Lovely, day after day, every day is a challenge. You never know what’s going to happen, or what’s round the corner. It’s great to be alive. And you must enjoy every minute of it.

I never get bored. You must think positive. Rule number 1: I never, ever, ever — do you understand what the word ‘never ever’ means? — never get lonely, because it’s up to you. It’s beyond my understanding, I don’t understand it, how people can get lonely. I don’t understand it. You mustn’t get lonely. Make a cup of tea if you are lonely, or knit. It’s like a pill to me, or a cigarette. If I feel tight, I just knit a few stitches or a few rows and I calm down completely. I love to knit.

Well now this year so far…Here’s electricity… there’s my income…there’s my hair that I have done…there are my jerseys…there’s my Honda, every time I put petrol in, I know…municipality rates, electricity…just ask me anything, I can tell you! Jerseys! I have knitted this year so far, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…twenty one…I’ve knitted twenty five jerseys so far this year.

When a jersey is finished, I walk where I know there is a busy outlet, and I see somebody with a baby…’Do you want a jersey?’ And then they’ll say, ‘But I haven’t got money for it.’ And I say, ‘no no no, you can have it.’ They don’t trust me sometimes. ‘You can have it, it’s for you, it’s a gift.’ To be able to give something, like that, a little jersey for their baby. What you receive is just wonderful. You don’t receive it in money or anything. Just the pleasure of seeing their faces.

You know, one year I was on the Shosholoza, on the train, and the train was packed like a sardine can. And I was sitting knitting. And there was a lady, and she said ‘What are you knitting?’ And I said ‘I knit little jerseys and I give them away.’ And she said, ‘What a wonderful idea.’ And she said, ‘And wool?’. And I said, ‘It just arrives.’ And you know on that train, people brought me wool on that train. I’ve never bought wool, it’s just arrived.

I just love it, it’s part of me. As long as these two ugly hands — I was born with these terrible nails, can you see them? I was born with them — but at least they…look at them…at least they can knit. I love it, I love…It’s my life. If you were to take my knitting away from me, I would be very heart sore. And I thought, if ever I go to jail for something or other, they won’t let me knit because needles are dangerous. So what am I going to do in jail? I don’t know.

I so badly want to be remembered. But I will be, I know. I will be. Because somewhere, somewhere, tonight, a child is going to sleep in my jacket.

(How will that make you feel?)

Great! Great! Now that’s what I like.