Or to laugh, belly laugh, at the Snowmen vs. Gnomes art exhibit. All done in teeny tiny knitting.
Don't tell the gnomes, but I think the snowmen have the advantage there.And then spending the other half listening to a goddess of knitting, the protege of Elizabeth Zimmerman's own daughter swear up a storm while at the same time casting off pearls of wisdom I wouldn't have learned from a lifetime of trial and error. It was that kind of day. If your not a knitter, I give you full leave to roll your eyes and be bored by the though, if you are a knitter then, well, you understand.
I've often thought that, for such a social person, and I am a social (ahem, chatty) person, it's strange that my hobbies tend to be very solitary. I'm not a team sports person. I don't really love parties unless they are with my closest friends, I don't like to go clubbing or even venture into crowds of people that I don't already know. I like to read and write and knit and bake and am generally a great big homebody. This means that, unless something drags me out, I tend to get into the habit of being on my own (with my family, of course). And while I love "hunkering down", I can get a little down when I have too much alone time.Knitting has, unexpectedly, provided a social outlet for me. I go out to knit. I hang out with knitters. It's my team sport, except instead of numbered jerseys and strange mascots and ESPN, we have different yarn blends, sheep and Ravelry. I realized, not long ago, that I have progressed from someone who knits to a Knitter with a capital K. It may seem like a strange distinction, but trust me, there's a difference. This realization came, I should add, when I found myself trying to stuff my yarn swift, five projects and ten extra skeins of yarn into our suitcase to take to my parents house. Because what if I finished all four projects and had to start a new one and there was no ball winder in the whole state of Missouri? That would be tragic! I did come to my senses and only brought two, ok three, knitting projects with me in the end.
So it's no wonder that spending the day with a swarm of like minded ladies (and a few guys) had me all in a dither. This, by the way, was not the best shirt I saw, but it was close. The best was on a man who was very gallantly escorting his wife (or perhaps he was there to restrain her from buying up the whole marketplace) I only saw him for a moment and didn't get a chance to take a picture, but the back of his shirts read "I work so that she can crochet." Which, you know, is probably pretty true. True love that.