Lion Brand Notebook ®

The Three Little Pigs: A Two-Part Yarn with a Nice Twist, Part One

Home/FictionThe Three Little Pigs: A Two-Part Yarn with a Nice Twist, Part One

The Three Little Pigs: A Two-Part Yarn with a Nice Twist, Part One

Once upon a time there were three pigs–siblings, as it happened–who went forth from the security of their mother’s straw-filled pen to seek their fortunes.

The first little pig, Wilma, was elegant and neat as a new pin. She loved arranging things tidily in rows: shoes, books, other pigs. She loved pleasant journeys that began at A and ended at Z. She was always a tiny bit chilly, even when it was ninety-six degrees in July and she was standing on a beach in Florida. Wilma liked to dress in layers, and felt a draped silhouette was by far the most flattering to her figure. Wilma loved to spend lots of money on yarn.

Wilma learned to knit.

The second little pig, Bertram, was thoroughly charming–some, indeed, called him downright eccentric. Bertram was fond of journeys that might suddenly change direction. He liked to challenge the tyranny of the expected. He liked to make the ordinary into the extraordinary, odds and ends into works of art. He liked things that looked like other things. Bertram loved to spend lots of money on yarn.

Bertram learned to crochet.

The third little pig, Hamish, was dreamy-eyed but fastidious to a fault. He loved to argue fine points and debate picayune details. He loved journeys that were carefully planned, often spending more time in the planning than in the traveling. Hamish loved things with many parts, especially parts that moved; and he loved all the tools and oils and manuals and gewgaws necessary to make the parts run smoothly. Hamish loved to spend lots of money on yarn.

Hamish learned to weave.

When the three little pigs were no longer apprentices, nor yet journeymen, but indeed were accepted by all as masters of their crafts, they joined forces to purchase a handsome parcel of land and establish upon it their several workshops.


Wilma said,

“I shall knit my workshop from the strongest, warmest wool. What a feast of pattern! What a delight of drape! I shall have stout walls of double knitting, a floor in crisp intarsia, a skylight of finest lace. I shall have steeks for my doors and windows, to open and close as I please with ranks of dainty one-row buttonholes. Mine shall be, dare I say it, the perfect workshop.”

Bertram said,

“I shall crochet my workshop from pure, gleaming cotton. It shall stand proud and independent. It shall be strong, yet delicate. Practical, yet beautiful. I shall carpet it with granny squares and festoon it with doilies. And when it is seen from the end of the driveway, it will appear not as a humble shed but–lo!–a graceful swan. Or…a pineapple? Or perhaps…better still…the gown of a fancy lady. Yes. My word, what a proclamation of my art! Mine shall be, dare I say it, the perfect workshop.”

Hamish said,

“I shall weave my workshop from,” and here he paused to leaf through the battered notebook that he carried in his satchel. “Ah, yes,” he continued, having found the page, “from a strong warp of cotton crossed with a primary weft of 10/2 silk/wool blend to give me warmth and drape, but then–take a look at this swatch from the round robin workshop I took last weekend–I was thinking of maybe working in a supplemental weft about every six inches so really, what we’ve got going on is a kind of a summer-and-winter thing as the basis, but then–”

And here the narrator fell asleep for an hour or so, but as he awoke Hamish was saying,

“Mine shall be, dare I say it, the perfect workshop.”


So the three little pigs martialed their yarns and built their shops, each to his or her own grand design. The folk of counties all around agreed that no finer sight had yet been seen than these very different, but equally cheerful, workshops rising from green lawn at the end of the drive.

All was well until word of the happy enclosure reached the furry ears of a wolf, miles away, whose own den was foul and unfashionable. He might have made it lovely, had he chosen; but this wolf had no industry of his own. He lived to prey upon others.

This shameless wolf lifted one ear to the breeze, and detected the faintest clank, clank, clank.

“Aha!” he thought. “Those are the shafts of a loom!” And he ran eagerly toward the distant sound.

After some time, he paused and lifted his ear again. “Click, click, click,” said the breeze.

“Knitting needles!” muttered the wolf. “This is certainly the right direction!”


Still later, he paused and listened. “Sheewsh, sheewsh, sheewsh,” said the breeze.

“The unmistakable sound of crochet!” muttered the wolf, whose hearing was indeed remarkable.

With just another bound or two, the wolf crested the final hill and there before him, pristine in the noonday sun, stood the yarn-clad workshops of Wilma, Bertram, and Hamish.

The wolf licked his lips. And spread his claws.

End of Part One

(Part Two will appear in one month.)


Franklin Habit

Writer, illustrator, and photographer Franklin Habit is the author of I Dream of Yarn: A Knit and Crochet Coloring Book (Soho Publishing, 2016) and It Itches: A Stash of Knitting Cartoons (Interweave Press, 2008) and proprietor of The Panopticon, one of the most popular knitting blogs on Internet. His publishing experience in the fiber world includes contributions to Vogue Knitting, Yarn Market News, Interweave Knits, Interweave Crochet, PieceWork, Ply Magazine, Cast On: A Podcast for Knitters, Twist Collective, and Knitty.com.

He travels constantly to teach knitters at shops and guilds across the country and internationally; and has been a popular member of the faculties of such festivals as Vogue Knitting Live!, Stitches Events, Squam Arts Workshops, and the Madrona Fiber Arts Winter Retreat.

These days, Franklin knits and spins in Chicago, Illinois, sharing a small city apartment with a Schacht spinning wheel, two looms, and colony of sock yarn that multiplies alarmingly whenever his back is turned.

Visit him at www.franklinhabit.com

Share this post

30 Comments

  • Can’t wait for part 2!!

  • wah! wah! a whole month!!!! hard to wait!

  • This is absolutely refreshing, hilarious, and wonderful! I can’t wait for the rest of it!!! TLD

  • Omg! These “fractured” fairy tales are the best. I’m going to chuckle for hours every time they come to mind!

  • Can’t wait for part 2.

  • I’m Wilma. So far, at least. A-Z.

  • What a lovely little tale you spin. Looking forward to Part 2. Wishing you the happiest Christmas.

  • Oh no! I can’t believe that I have to wait a month for the conclusion of this delightful tale!

  • Knitter/Crocheter

  • Your story is charming. I can no longer knit due to arthritis but have taught myself to crochet and enjoy making hats for charity and other thing for the family. I am allergic to wool, darn it.

  • Oh my, I will be on (blocking) pins and (knitting) needles until next month.

  • We will be on hooks and needles awaiting the rest of the story…

  • I think, dare I say it? That I know the end of this story! Bejabbers!

  • It’s cruel to leave us hanging like this!

  • What a wonderful story. I can’t believe we’ve been left hanging for a MONTH! That’s cruel!

  • yes…. i was slurping on the final line when thus,… it was the final line ….my jaw was a clammier to the desk top with anticipation but whoa is me left to wait for furthering this adventure

  • Perhaps these clever yarn crafting pigs will craft a snare or snares or traps of some kind and will silently trap the wolf and either tie him up until he reforms or hang him from a tree if the wolf cannot be persuaded to see the error of his slovenly ways! Or perhaps the author has not yet heard what happened to the wolf and is waiting as eagerly as we are to learn how the story ends.

    What do you think happened next?

  • the suspense……. arghhhhhh!
    (But I love it!!)

  • I hope that the wolf will be so inspired by the beauty and artfulness of the 3 little yarn-using pigs , that he mends his ways, takes classes from each of the pigs, and redecorates his den!

  • Perhaps the clever piggy-wiggies will construct a luxurious hammock, which will be irresistible to the shameless wolf, exhausted, no doubt, by his journey. He lays down for a quick 40 winks, and the clever piggle-wiggles cocoon him tightly in strong fiber. So tight and so strong that he cannot escape. And then……

  • Brilliant, I can’t believe we have to wait a month.

  • I think the 3 little crafters will decorate the wolf’s den with their talents and everyone will live happily ever after!

  • Very cleverly crafted. I look forward to part 2.

  • UGH – I have to wait a month to find out what happened!

  • What fun ! I can’t wait til the next part. Perhaps the wolf will be so intrigued that he’ll want to knit all those beautiful yarns. A true win

  • Maybe the pigs have a cousin visiting who spins. That cousin will shear the wolf, and spin his fur into some lovely yarn that will be shared among the pigs?

  • Maybe the pigs will finally collaborate & construct a fine sheep’s coat for the wolf!

  • Seriously, I would love an illustrated book of these stories.

    Especially since my husband, who neither knits nor crochets, has appropriated my copy of “It Itches”.

    Next time I’ll buy two.

  • Love the story, Bring on Part 2 Please.

  • I look forward to Part 2.

    Hey, Franklin, uis that your hat on Jughead on the Netflix show Riverdale? Looks like the sideways garter stitch hat from your article, Hatters Gotta Hat. I made one of those just because it was an interesting pattern. From the ’20s, I think. In the show Jughead is not as silly as in the comics. He’s a writer. And always wears that hat!

  • Leave A Comment