“How not-boring can knitting get?”


 


This quote (re: the construction of socks) came from my old friend who took up knitting for his daughter’s sake and is now well and truly hosed hooked.  Despite having just taken up the craft, as an artist (and a cabinetmaker) he sees the “yarn + two sticks = infinity” equation with the wonder and fascination of our most fervent adherents to the craft.  Because, when given room to, I become a goofy evangelist on any subject I have enthusiasm for (also including but not limited to: pets, Yoga, the novels of Jane Austen, Farscape, wine, close harmony, geraniums, Dyson vacuum cleaners, the color green, and the music of James Taylor*), I have stepped in as his enabler.  Big time.
 
He doesn’t seem to mind yet, but it’s probably helpful that we no longer work in the same office (or the same state).  E-mails have flown back and forth on subjects both small (the weaving in of ends and how to do same) and large (dyeing a boring, white knitted object).  Days can pass without hearing from one another, then a sudden flurry of information transits the ether, complete with warnings (such as the danger of losing an entire work day to the manifold charms of Knitty).  Comparing myself as I do to my knitting sensei Marie, I am sometimes surprised at how much I know, and I’m tickled to be one of his resources. 
 
I have really done it now, though.  I have sent him a wee gift.  I think it will dissolve him into the embrace of the KnitBorg forever.
 
In other news, I have started my Christmas knitting.  That sounds so organized, I think I even hate myself.
 
 
* I will contemplate what that list says about me later.  Or never.  Whichever comes second.
Posted: Monday - April 10, 2006 at 05:58 PM         | |

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