Notes

This is inspired by Brenda Dayne's "Note to Self" from yesterday's post at Cast-On. If you don't listen to her, her voice is like buttah! She could read The Wall Street Journal everyday from 'cover to cover' and I would listen.

So, here is my "Note to Self" (Caution: Mad Galloping Topic Drift Ahead)

Being a knitter is like having children. People who knit like to talk about their knitting...and share pictures of their knitting...and talk about other people's knitting...and share pictures of other people's knitting.

People who do not knit don't want to participate in any of the above. The same goes for having children. If you don't have any, you really don't want to hear/see them. (Yes, I'm making broad generalizations here...work with me.) Wait...I have children and I frequently wish I couldn't see or hear what they are doing...

Exceptions: Husbands. Sometimes, (and I mean sometimes in the sense that sometimes I like to eat okra) husbands will find a knitting related blog post funny. I think mine had a genuine laugh at the Harlot's drug induced Green Sweater Debacle. I read it to him as he sat across the room and there were several, "oh no!"s and much head shaking.

[BTW, Bloglines rocks for trying to find stuff like that! Beats wading through the archives on her site...and gives you a direct link to it!]

My husband routinely thinks it's funny when I'm knitting along and suddenly shout out obscenities and start ripping back. He's a sick puppy. Either that or he finds my choice of swear words humorous (you know you've been reading too much Harlot when you type humourous first, and then wonder why it looks funny). My phrases of choice routinely involve ducks, goats, donkeys, as well as various parts of their anatomy...you get the picture.

My co-workers, while they routinely ask me what I'm making, DON'T CARE. Why do they ask? Why am I compelled to answer them in a rambling/gushing fashion? Why can't they just walk by and leave me to my tiny lunch time zen ritual? Why can't I just say, "socks" and leave it at that?

I sincerely believe this is why we (knitters) blog. This way, people who want to see/hear about our troubles/triumphs with short row heels, picking up stitches, k3togs and triple YOs can come visit...and those not interested remain blissfully unaware. The internet truely is a wonderful place. We are internally programmed to share this stuff with people, and this way, we aren't getting punched in the eye while at the urinal.

This concludes my "Note to Self". Carry on.