“Where are you off to this fine morning?” the barista asked.
“Knitting. Stitch and bitch with some friends” I said.
“Oh! So Zen and relaxing. Enjoy!”
I smiled and my third eye beamed beneficently, my inner yogi at peace as I floated my way to Saturday morning knitting. With my fair-trade coffee in an earth-friendly mug, I floated with effortless grace out the door. Ohm.
More like OhmFG. Where do people get these crazy ideas? Let me tear apart the lies you’ve been told.
Lie # 1 – Knitters are calm
Knitters are not calm. Knitters are psychopathic killers armed with sharp objects and the only thing keeping us from doing harm is the complicated pattern consuming our attention. Disturb at your peril. Watch the knitter. Listen. Did you hear muttering? That manic mumbling is no knitter’s rosary, let me tell you, although we may occasionally chant a few hail Mary’s to keep from stabbing the chair cushion – or you – in frustration because we miscounted the stitches in a lace pattern.
Lie #2 – Knitters are patient
No we’re not. We’re fidgeting balls of tension. We knit because we’re impatient, because we can’t sit still, because to do nothing while sitting is a sin, a waste of time. Knitting while watching TV is productive. Watching TV with idle hands is the devil’s work. My Methodist grandma from Iowa said so repeatedly, wielding a crochet hook as she scolded.
I’ve tried drinking and knitting to achieve knitter’s nirvana. Merrily I knit along, sipping a glass of well-chilled New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, blithely purling and knitting my heart out only to discover I’d exceeded the length required by six inches. I ripped while I was ripped, ripping mad.
Tell me if any of this sounds patient:
- The time I shredded a pattern in front of my fellow bitchers, roaring in agony as I did so.
- The time I unraveled a lace hat in a fury and gave it back to the universe via the garbage can.
- The time I infamously shocked a 25 year old male knitter – Colin – who had infiltrated our group when a dozen stitches slid off my needle. Out of my mouth flew “Jesus, Mary, and fucking Joseph!” Which leads me to …
Lie #3 – All knitters are women, and Lie #4 – Knitting is boring
Colin was definitely male – good looking, too. “Colin”, I asked on his first day, “how did you get into knitting?”
“I have a dull job and I needed something to do.” he told me.
“Oh? What do you do?”
“I’m a DJ.”
“That doesn’t sound dull. Where do you work?”
“At a strip club.”
Silence. Knitting needles suspended in mid-air. Breathing stopped. All eyes on me. Then Colin. Then back to me.
“Ohhh? That’s a dull job?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m a guy. We never get bored staring at a woman’s tits.”
I glanced around the table. Still no clacking of needles. I know I should have bristled at the word but, well, he was a 25 year old guy. It seemed normal.
“Uh huh. So, I still don’t get why the knitting?”
“Well, I just needed something to do. You see the same act over and over – it’s predictable.”
He showed us a picture of his dj booth. On the table was his knitting and beside it, a crowbar. You see, he doubles as a bouncer. Oh, and did I mention he also introduces the dancers?
“Ladies, I said, we have before us a golden opportunity. We need stripper names. It’s a natural connection. Ripping and stripping.” There was some hesitation so I took the lead.
“Yarn names, gals. Textures, fibres, feelings. Work with me! Okay. How about this. I’ll be ‘Silken Joy’. Colin”, I said, “introduce me.” He obliged. The best part? I have it on video. When things get dull at home, I pull out a bath towel and have some fun. Then I sit down with my knitting and meditate.
*This is a Sue Redo from a previous blog.