Stephanie Pearl-McPhee rocks! I was one of 700 lucky knitters who packed the Milan Theater in Atlanta's trendy Midtown, just around the corner from hosting LYS Knitch. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution sent a bemused photographer and wrote a typically condescending article. Head-shaking passersby murmured, "what's the big deal?" as we stood in line for an hour before the doors opened for the knit-in portion of the event. And we merrily knitted away, happy to just BE.
A wonderful non-knitter stood in line next to me, letting me wind a ball of yarn from a skein I'd just purchased at Knitch for a Calorimetry (which I began and was just one row away from finishing by the time the Yarn Harlot wrapped up). I saw gals with tattoos next to ladies in pearls, tweens in plaid bermudas and guys in pressed chinos and button-downs . . . it was the usual can't-pin-us-down crowd.
The Harlot opened her marvelous "lecture" with a treatise on the stupid stuff people say to knitters. Fave - "I wish I had time to knit," with its implication that while we're idling away at something unimportant, the speaker has so many more meaningful and busy things to do.
Which made me think of some other gems:
"There you go again. Do you knit all the time?" Sure. I don't go to work or take care of my kids or cook meals or do chores or write or tend to a thousand different details of daily life. I just knit. All the time.
"I saw a sweater/socks/scarf/hat/bag just like that at Target." No, you didn't. What you saw was cheap, machine-made goods with no soul. This is hand-made meditation.
"My grandmother used to crochet." I'm knitting. And while I'm likely as old as your grandma was when you were a kid, I'm not your grandmother.
"I've always wanted to learn how to knit. I guess I need to take some classes." Or you could just sit down this minute, let me show you a few stitches, and get started. (I offer every time.) It really isn't rocket science.
Aaahhh. I feel much better.
Pearl-McPhee also talked about her just-blogged fiasco of an AM wake-up, when all of her alarms failed her - or not. She awakened at 5:30 am, half an hour past her wake-up call, and blasted the front desk. Only to learn that it was actually 4:30 am and that her room clock was wrong.
That has SO happened to us at one time or another.
Then Delta lost her luggage (filled with 30+ skeins of yarn and a few items of clothing).
Despite the chaos, she gave us so much of herself. And we are deeply appreciative.
Thanks, Yarn Harlot! May your luggage catch up with you before the next step on your whirlwind speaking tour!