Thursday, August 23, 2007

All knittin', all the time . . .

A week and a day after they were cast on, I'm already done with the first Magic Stripe sock and the second one is not only cast on, I've made it past the heel turn, finished the gussets, and started up the leg while riding the train to work this morning. And, hey! They're even the same size! Then, I remembered that I worked the entire leg in a k2p2 ribbing on the first one, but was doing straight stockinette on the second one. Fortunately, I was only 7 rows past the gussets, so I didn't have much to frog off. But, I discovered the error of my ways on the train home, so I didn't have anything to knit.

Good thing I had my MP3 player with Kelley's latest podcast and two episodes of Rhonda's Knitting News to listen to. I don't know why Rhonda stopped her podcast; she hasn't posted since March. I'll have to find some new knitting podcasts or audio books to listen to on the train. If you have suggestions for either of those (preferably free), leave me a comment. Anything's better than listening to other people's cell phone conversations on the train.

I had a funny thing happen to me last week on the train, but I forgot to tell you about it. I did share it with some of the knitsibs last Friday night, though. Usually, when I knit on the train, the seat next to me stays empty. People always rush towards the empty seat, but when they see the dpns, they stop short, hesitate, and move on. Or, if they're forced to sit next to me, they move at the first opportunity. But then, last week, an older lady got on, saw me, and deliberately came to sit next to me. She asked if I was knitting socks, and said she hadn't seen anyone knit socks in years. I told her that socks were one of my favorite things to knit, especially on the train, and that I sometimes knitted Socks For Soldiers. She asked when I learned to knit, and said she used to knit years ago, but hers was never as nice and even as mine. I thanked her, and she was quiet for a few minutes. Then, just as she was getting off the train, she turned to me and said, "I could knit Socks for Al Qaeda because mine would give them blisters and athlete's foot. Between us, we could win the war." And she didn't even crack a smile! I, however, was howling with laughter! I wish she'd take up knitting again, because I'd love to meet up with her in a knitting group!

I've decided that as soon as these socks are done, I'm going to use up the leftover baby yarn in the stash by knitting preemie hats and socks and mitts. There's no baby knitting on the horizon (unless Christie and mark have decided to add to their tribe), so it needs to be put to good use. And those will make nice small projects for commuting on the train.

Tonight when I got home, Tool Man proudly showed me the cedar he bought to make some sock blockers for me. He'd even sketched out a rough pattern with hedgehogs on the top. And he's working on a design for a vertical yarn reel that will wind even strands of yarn for dying. We support each other's addictions.

I had another funny thing happen to me this week. OK, not funny, like the other one was "Ha! Ha!" funny; rather funny, like "Wasn't that surreal?" funny. I was at work on Tuesday morning when a woman walked up to my desk and said she'd read my blog. I was completely bumfuzzled by that statement. OK, stop laughing! I realize that I post this on the web for people to read, and that anybody could be reading it; even people that I don't know, and will probably never know, and will probably never meet could read it. Intellectually, I know those things. But when I write this, in my head, I'm talking to people I know and who know me. I'm talking to you. And I hear you answer me. Yeah, yeah, I know; they have drugs now that can make the voices stop. Very funny.

But, it never really sunk in that strangers could be reading this. This was the first time that someone I hadn't met previously walked up and said things like, "I read your blog and had to come meet you", and "I knit, but not like you", and "I think you're funny." I was completely blown away by this experience; so much that I basked in the afterglow for a few moments. Then I called Tool Man to share with him. He was polite about listening, and congratulated me on my first "fan." But he did laugh when I told him that it never occurred to me that strangers could read my posts. Then he asked me how much money I've earned from the AdSense. When I told him, he said to get back to work since I obviously wasn't going to retire on earnings from my blog. I did; but I daydreamed about being Stephanie Pearl-McPhee.


  1. Congratulations on your "first fan!"

    Actually, you know, you've had a few fans all along. But maybe ones you know. :-)

  2. ROFL on the woman on MAX - beautiful! And a fan, oh my, congrats! I think I'd have the same reaction. Only I'd probably go wopjaw and sound like a total idiot. [g] Enjoy the afterglow. (And may you bump into more fans.)

  3. I used to have the same experience when I would commute on the train (the people avoiding sitting next to me). It actually motivated me to knit more, especially during those really crowded commuter hours! Do you get the people who just stare at you while you knit on the train?
    -Another fan who plans on meeting you :)


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