Faux Peterman strikes again. This is a little twisted one-generation-away-from-the-farm humor. For the twisted stitch pattern, I guess.
Threshing grain then was a dangerous business, and the harvest extended into the cold months. Small families needed all their ingenuity and resourcefulness to survive the constant struggle with nature in the days before faster, safer mechanization made growing the nation’s grain a corporate enterprise. Long, flapping drive belts powered by the hub of a tractor, exposed gear boxes, and whirling spokes loomed everywhere on farm machinery, half-hidden in the windblown chaff. No wonder Granddad wouldn’t wear a scarf to keep his neck warm - not when the slightest breath of wind might tail the loose ends into the teeth of winding, crushing gears that could pull a man to destruction, with no time to open a trust clasp knife (see page 14 of this catalog) to cut himself free.
Grandma’s solution? The quick and easy gaiter. Pulled down over Granddad’s head, the gaiter made a snug barrier around his roughened neck to keep relentless late season prairie winds from penetrating. Granddad and those who spend time out of doors will know in a Minnesota second what this quick and useful accessory is for.
OK, I have never heard the expression in a Minnesota second. He swears they use it in Wisconsin. Here’s not-grandpa, demonstrating safe neckwear around woodpiles. Available at the Yarnery, on Ravelry and Patternfish.
And although her song My Grandpa isn’t on the album, go listen to Martha’s band the Jinnies. They are wonderful musicians and great fun.