I have been reading the Yarn Harlot's first book. A friend lent it to me, and in all honesty, it was written before I was a Knitter, with a capital K. A couple of things in this book have driven home to me that I am truly a Knitter and not just someone who knits. The first is that I am reading and enjoying, even laughing at a book about knitting.
I felt the fear and trembling when Stephanie washed a sweater she had been working on and it grew 30% bigger from the water. It scared me so much that I am actually going to swatch the sweater I am making AND block it. I already know my gauge is accurate on the unwashed stitches, but does this yarn grow? I don't know and I am scared. Some research will be done on this topic.
But, what really struck home to me was when I read the chapter about Lene. If you haven't read the book, and plan to and are not interested in having me blow this section for you, do not read this. Consider yourself warned. Anyway, Stephanie talks about going to her friend Lene's house and there is a huge pile of yarn on the floor and she and Ken are going to divide it up. The thought of getting half of someone's stash, generally makes me goose pimply with glee. But, when I read on, Stephanie reveals that she is getting the stash because her friend Lene can not knit any longer due to arthritis.
How horrible to go to a party where you get to divide up someone's yarn because they can not knit. Just the thought of that makes me a little woozy. It was a funeral for Lene's passion, a wake for her yarn. She was giving her stash away to people she loved because she knew she would never knit again. I cried when I read this. It still brings tears to my eyes. It is was at this very moment that I realized, I don't just make stuff out of yarn, I don't just knit, I am a Knitter. Knitting is part of my passion, my soul and my being. Each object I make, every stitch is a little bit of myself, it is love.
How do you know if you are a Knitter, well, just the thought of not being able to knit any longer and getting rid of your stash because you can not knit any more, would well bring you to tears. Just as the thought of it happening to one of your fellow Knitters makes you a bit weepy.
I could see why you would shudder. Kind of like me reading about someone cooking meat and dairy together. Or something along those lines. I'd probably feel the same way if someone went blind and people had to divide up their books. You know how much of a reader I am when that would make me shudder. Did you hear about my knitting travesty yesterday?
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