Monday, October 30, 2006

Bonus Blog - It is not polite to stare.

I am a KIPper. Don't look at me like that, it isn't dirty or anything. It means I KNIT IN PUBLIC. Much to the consternation of my family. While most of them think it is kind of cool that I can create things with needles and fiber (and are full of requests for items made from the most difficult patterns known to mankind, with yarn that costs more than my car), they don't much like to be seen with me while I am doing it. My daughter is still too young to have an opinion on this, although she is more amenable to be doing it when the project on the needles is something for her - preferably very pink and very fuzzy. I see people trying to stare without being obvious (give it up, I know what you are doing). Half fascinated and half embarrassed for me. Because only old spinsters knit, right? What kind of nutjob would knit IN FRONT of people? Strangers no less? Why is it more cool to read a newspaper that says nothing or eat food that you don't want while waiting? And I can still have a conversation. I can meet your eyes from time to time too, but as of yet I still need to look down at my hands often. But I can still talk and smile and be involved with you while I play with my "sticks and string". Just a note, if you hear me counting under my breath, the conversation is suspended. Let me finish my whispery numerals uninterrupted, or I might get snippy when I have to recount. And at all costs, avoid saying any numbers while I am doing it or you might get hurt. Other than that, no big deal - and no, you are not "bothering" me by talking to me. This morning I was knitting a sock (toe up pattern with still-ugly-but-in-a-different-way yarn) while waiting for the taxi to bring me to the office. The short rows for the toe were already done, and it's straight knitting in the round for like six more inches so nothing overly complicated and no counting to speak of. Just nice relaxing knitting. And a room full of business people staring. Full of questions they are afraid to voice. Fascinated yet embarrassed, wanting to know what I am making but too shy to ask, perhaps not wanting to be connected to the odd woman in a gigantic knitted coat fiddling with tiny tiny dpns and a bit of colourful something. Feeling generous, I answered an inquisitive look (she thought I didn't see her behind that itinerary) with a cheerful "It's going to be a sock". "Oh!" she exclaimed. "It looks hard to do". Nope. Just takes practice and patience (that is an inside joke, because every knitter I 'know' has absolutely NO patience at all - we just complain bitterly, throw stuff, eat chocolate, and tough it out). We ended up sharing the taxi, and I made her laugh when I said "I like having something to keep me occupied that I can pick up and put down quickly. Plus if anybody bothers me I can give them a poke with a needle". She laughed, but it was one of those nervous giggles that says 'I hope that was a joke and I am not sharing a cab with a homicidal maniac - please don't let them find my dead body at the side of the road with a knitting needle in my eye'. What? It was a long giggle. And no, I did not set her mind at ease. Not knowing if I am going to kill you is one of my better personality traits. I think it makes me interesting. *big grin* Although I do want to say that they would never find a knitting needle in her EYE. No way am I leaving a DPN behind and being left without a full set. That would just be crazy.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dances -

I recently decided to join the ranks of knitters. I have been doing it about two weeks now. I have to say that your blog here is too funny, but when you said you wouldn't leave a DPN behind...I about spit coffee all over my screen.

Lisa