Monday, March 10, 2014

Rehashing an Old Thread

Someone I recently hung out with brought up knitting. That she knows how to do it.

It reminded me of a former teenage cashier of mine. After I took her to lunch one afternoon, she said she’d knit me a replica of the beanie she often wore on her head. “I’ll take it,” I assured her. While ringing me up a few weeks later, she asked what color I’d like. I gave her a range – carnation pink, lavender, beige, whatever else popped in my head at the time. Two years have passed, and where in the hell is my hat?
It reminded me that I would like to knit hats, gloves, and baby booties on my own. I applaud those who absent-mindedly knit on the subway, during conference calls, while listening to NPR. If I feel relaxed just watching someone knit, how much more relaxing could it be to do it myself?

I’ve never had a knack for anything related to sewing. If it hadn’t been for the cooking unit, I would have failed my mandatory junior high Home Ec classes.
Awhile back, I heard about a local yarn store’s knitting classes. It offered one for adults and one for kids between the ages of 7 and 12. My email to them hinted that I’d prefer placement in the children’s program (though even that was iffy; those 7-year-olds would sew circles around me). The person who emailed me back clearly assumed I was kidding.

The other day, I read an essay maintaining there are only two human motivators: desire and fear. The smallest and biggest decisions we make are based on one or the other. When it comes to knitting, I have both desire and fear, with the fear coming out slightly ahead.
I have many other talents I’m proud of (most of which are fueled purely by desire): keeping secrets from people I don’t trust; bringing seemingly inkless ballpoint pens back to life; scoring mint-condition Brooks Brothers shirts for $10; diagnosing (and then neutralizing) any sociopaths in my midst. There’s also my abnormally superb peripheral vision. I could go on, but won't.


  1. I once knitted a scarf... it took a solid 9 months to knit it and by the time I was done, it was summer and way too hot to wear a scarf. That's when I realised that I enjoy the idea of knitting more than I enjoy the knitting itself.

  2. When I lost my job back in 2006, I decided to take up kntting. Whenever I decide to do something new, I go out and buy a load of the best supplies.

    I joined a local knitting class for beginners and it was basically the two old ladies in town that didn't know how to knit and me. I wasn't very proficient at it and I ended up quitting. I have a stunning 4" x 4" square that I made if you want to wear it on your head like a yamulke.

  3. I'm really chuckling here. There will always be the few people who are fantastic at knitting and who spend every spare minute at it. Then there is the rest of the world. . .
    I'm afraid I belong in the "rest of the world" category.

    The talent that you mention, Roving Retorter--the one I really would like to master--is identifying and then neutralizing sociopaths. Actually, I think I can identify them pretty well, but neutralizing them? That would be a special talent indeed, one that I have not been successful in mastering and probably never will be.