I finally did it. I went to the knitting night at the local yarn shop. I have been meaning to go for a few months, now, but it is easier said than done. But, last week, I did it. I waved goodbye to the happy brood and drove down the hill to meet some new friends. I spent the evening chatting, knitting, and laughing. On the way home I had a revelation.
I am a knitter with a few knitting friends. But most of the people I know don’t knit. When they ask, “Oh, what are you making?” it is usually just a polite way to acknowledge that I am doing something with my hands while we talk. I learned long ago that they aren’t asking for a long dissertation on the baby hat pattern that I am making. They don’t really care what yarn it is or what my opinion of this particular stitch pattern and they really have no idea how the gob of yarn in my lap will be turned into a cute little baby bonnet.
But I just met a bunch of people that do care. When asked what I was knitting, I first replied with a vague “just a baby hat”. The woman then persisted, “Does the pattern have a name?” I chuckled at myself and then dove into it headfirst with glee at being understood. “It is called the Stella Pixie hat. See how the ribbing slowly gives way to the vertical striping….?”
Suddenly I was in a group of people who said the words “Ravelry”, “Malabrigo”, and “gauge” in their normal conversation. My new knitting bag, which is always admired but never recognized for what it is in my world, was ooohed and aaahed over. “Is that a Jordana Paige? I have one, too.”
I am blessed to have a lot more knitting friends than most, but this was a fantastic experience. Because of the distance I know it won’t be a weekly habit for me, but I do hope to go back from time to time. Those people speak my language, the language of yarn. The language of fiber. The language of the knitter.
I hope none of you non-knitter friends take offense to this. You know I love ya’ll, too! 🙂