I've tried to think this through in several ways and no matter how many wonderful designers, podcasters, dyers and fabulous knitty friends I know and love it just has to be my Mum...
I don't remember her teaching me to knit in the way that I remember her teaching me to read (tucked in the side of the armchair with her and my ladybird books at the age of 3 upwards), but possibly because knitting was a little more traumatic for me to grasp. Strangely writing this has prompted a small glimmer of endlessly passing my knitting back to her to pick up or sort out my errors. The astonishing patience it must have taken to teach me, the endlesss repetition and willingness to keep going, when knowing me I was probably begging to go outside and play football with my brother!
It did stick eventually and although I stopped knitting at about age 23 and didn't pick it back up until age 44, she started that love within me. Planted the seed that said this is normal, enjoyable, creative and never apologise for your knitty loves. Due to Mum's arthritis she can't knit very much but does the occasional picking up a button band for me (for which I'm again eternally grateful). She absolutely delights in my all consuming love for her craft and loves me to show her new techniques. Its actually making me feel quite emotional, ooh er!
My lovely Mum, my knitting hero