Live to learn

I know I had planned to watch the "Golden Globes". I know I should have mapped our reading schedule, but what did I do instead?

I went to a knitting group meeting. Yes, I was a big, brave girl and I went to my local yarn shop's weekly get-together. Here's how it happened, I am not completely to blame: I had wanted to start on the Marsupial Bag (from Stitch N' Bitch), but it called for a twisted stitch and I was kinda nervous about trying it unattended. Plus I wasn't really sure what a twisted stitch was. (I know that you seasoned knitters may be laughing at me by now, but give a girl a break. I am a newbie and I have paid my dues in scarves, but baby steps. . . baby steps.)

So, I called the yarn store with a quick question. The dear yarn lady encouraged me to come to the meeting that evening, feeling it might be better for her to walk me through it. I pondered, I worried and I fretted. Should I go and risk being the novice among a pack of experts. Would they point their needles at me and laugh hysterically when I asked what ever on earth is a "long-tailed" cast-on. Would they giggle as I left, making fun of my little needle box and penchant for green and brown yarn.

After much encouragement from my friends, I decided to go. What was the worst that could happen? I could live through some needle pointing and criticism, right? I might just learn something and maybe, just maybe, pick up some cool yarn while I was there.

So I drove the 20 minutes it took to get there, chewing my fingernails and hoping that I'd fit in with the rest of the girls. (Let's take a moment to admit that women, especially when in packs, can be more lethal than any form of chemical warfare and often don't take kindly to intruders. I've seen many an innocent gunned down.)

I pulled slowly into the parking lot and spied one car already there. Hmmm, I thought, maybe I could nab a seat and pretend to be invisible as the others arrived, blending into the plaid couch as if I never existed.

No such luck. Dear Yarn Lady greeted me at the door with open arms and a few ground rules: 1) sit anywhere you like 2) work on any project you like 3) ask any questions you like and 4) laugh as much as you like.

I found a cushy spot on the couch, perused the shop a bit looking for some needles I needed to get started and Dear Yarn Lady had me on my way to making the bag in no time. One speedy knitter was already there, making her eighth pair of socks since Christmas. (I am over my head, I thought.) However, I knew I was on the right track whenever she commented and admired my little tackle box of needles. Others began to trickle in and eventually there were six of us in all in a tiny room, each with projects in hand, knitting/crocheting and talking up a storm. There was a lot to learn, a lot to glean and a lot to soak in. For instance, Sock Lady stores her yarn stash in an unused bathtub. Another lady has hit three deer with the same car.

The writer in me started to ask questions of each of my fellow yarn enthusiasts. In my inquisition, I learned that most had knitted since childhood. The Sock Lady, had in fact, learned as a "school girl in Germany". Another was lead by her mother along with her sisters. Yarn Lady was self-taught. I was fascinated. Imagine, a lifelong hobby: one that occupied your mind, kept you creative, clothed your children and introduced you to new friends. Now, that's a hobby I wanted to stick with. (Needlefingers would argue that knitting is a way of life and I must agree with her.)

I left with some sloppy twisted stitches, a new set of needles, and a desire to return, to learn from these ladies, to listen as they gossip and talk stitches, and maybe end up with some more good yarn.

The photo above is of my start on the bag. Love that brown yarn.