If we hadn't moved out of Brooklyn, Shirra might never have opened her knitting store, and if she'd stayed a recreational knitter, rather than a professional one, I most likely would never have felt the need to learn. But here we are in New Paltz, and her store is doing well, and I'm knitting my first scarf. Shirra's been knitting for years and has made every kind of clothing that can be fashioned of yarn. I'm not going to be able to help customers in the store for quite some time, but I figured the sooner I learn, the better. And it's fun.
Super Bowl Knitting Party
Part of the enjoyment I derive from knitting is the shock value. I took my knitting bag to the fire house and brought out my yarn and needles for our Super Bowl party. I love the comaraderie of the fire department, and as a big fan of South Park, I understand how teasing works. If they don't tease you, they don't love you. Or: If they do tease you, it means that they know you can take it. Sociology aside, I enjoyed the barbs and funny looks. My favorite comment was the suggestion that I knit myself a penis.
I was planning to make an all-blue scarf, but Shirra didn't have a second skein of azure blue yarn, so I chose an emerald green for my second color. Then it turned out that the scarf was too short (especially given how fat it was), so I added a third color.
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