Knit-Wits and Other Niceties

I never knew how knitting needles work. And quite frankly, I never thought I could operate them myself. It requires patience, some logic, a certain amount of fortitude--and did I mention patience?

For I am not a domestic diva, and the mere thought of sewing or cross-stitch or detailed work of any kind can make me crazy. Without even trying a thing, I feel weak and inadequate.

And yet...the ladies of the Knit-Wits group in Breckenridge, CO, accepted me into their circle one evening a few weeks ago, while I was visiting a good friend. I felt like an outsider and a fraud. As I watched their various needles clicking and moving, yarn being carefully set into motion and pattern, I felt that I could not do this thing. But I was wrong.

My initial attempt at fashioning a dishcloth was painful and clumsy. My smile turned to a grimace and some naughty words might have easily slipped from my tongue. Getting it takes being really, really bad at it on your first few rows. But it is OK to be bad at first--it is the necessary precursor to eventually being good--or at least fully capable.

And so the next day I found myself at the shop "What's Needling U?" in Frisco, CO. The dear elderly store clerk, who I'm sure knew many unnecessary things like where someone first discovered how to harvest wool for yarn, and how to knit intricate doilies with sewing needles (ha!), did her best sales job on me.

"These large plastic needles will pass through airport security," she said. "You'll want to buy your supplies here because knitting is ideal for travel time," and then she told me I could knit a scarf with just one skein of gorgeous baby pink alpaca wool yarn. I was hooked--literally. Twenty-one dollars and some odd cents later I walked out feeling funny. Could I really knit?

But it turns out I could, and as my friend Carla showed me how to start this scarf, I kept reminding myself of what those dear "knit-wits" proclaim: "Never, ever be afraid to rip out your stitches."

An elderly woman and I, both knitting in the Denver airport terminal, were instant friends. She did her best to finagle a seat next to me, and I begin to see how very important this new hobby could be. An instant connector, a secret knitting society of sorts, opens when needles are pulled out of the bag, and it is considered practically an insult if a neighboring knitter does not comment on your project or at the very least the smashing color of your yarn. Really. I'm learning this.

But the woman could not obtain a seat next to me. So as it turned out I sat next to a young twenty-something who was recently kicked out of Bob Jones University, and it was here that I discovered something else about knitting. It allows for conversation that might not occur otherwise. For as this young man and I sat talking, we both watched my knitting, and it opened up topics you might not normally approach with a complete stranger.

And I told him not to take it personally, the whole being kicked out of Bob Jones, and he told me all about his girlfriend he was going to visit in Michigan. And then he complimented me on my knitting and how much I had accomplished in just one flight...

Just a few days ago I realized that I am not the type of knitter who will knit without other people around. And so I visited the Thursday night knitting circle just down the road, and at first I felt like I was in the cafeteria in 7th grade, and I felt completely strange for entering this room full of strangers who were knitting capes and slippers, and handbags and baskets. And me with a half-finished plain pink scarf.

But after a minute of them not noticing me, they casually suggested I pull up a chair, and I sat down. And I learned very fascinating things, like the fact that it takes 1/3 more yarn to crochet something than to knit it. And they all encouraged me, each and every one of them commenting on the beautiful pink alpaca wool yarn I was using, as if I had made it myself. And I felt comfortable then, and a little bit smug, and almost domestic. Almost.

Will I ever aspire to greater heights--to felted slippers and tote bags, sweaters and gloves? Who can say. But just for today, I will pick up my needles and do something with my hands that shows progress and a little bit of skill. And did I mention...patience?