Some time ago, before the onset of the Texas monsoon season, I ventured to far North Texas to spend the afternoon teaching my aunts and cousins how to knit. Not because I considered myself a knitting aficionado of sorts, oh no. Only because of a phone conversation that went something like this:
Whistling (my ringtone at the time)
Me: Hello.
Aunt Donna: (in a singsong voice) Sssuuuur-priiiissssse! We've decided you're going to teach us all how to knit today!
Me: Okay. (You see how much she had to twist my arm? What? Knit? In a Group? And I'm in charge?!! Well, if you insist...)
I gave everyone a short list of supplies for knitting a simple scarf, snagged some knitting magazines, and grabbed my own knitting project (which I've since ripped and discarded). I managed to accomplish my frantic packing in less than 5 seconds and said goodbye to Jeff in a whirlwind akin to that of the Tasmanian Devil.
Our little knitting party consisted of yours truly, my Aunt Donna, my cousin Casey, my cousin Jeri and my Aunt Bonnie. Grandma kept a close eye on us, but she's of the crocheting persuasion and so stayed out of the event. We started with the long tail cast-on, and everyone was so excited.
At first.
Things took a turn for the worse shortly after learning how to make a knit stitch. And then? Oh, the dropping of a few stitches and tears. Everyone seemed ready to ram their knitting needles through their ears, despite my assurances that dropping stitches was a normal part of the learning curve. Jeri was all, "What. Everrrr. Get away from me."
And Oy to the Vey! The purl stitch stirred some sort of hysteria response in the group. (I swear I heard some maniacal laughter.) Poor Aunt Bonnie started mumbling weirdly to herself and hid out in a corner of the living room.
(You DO see all that room on the couch, right? There was also an empty recliner. I can only surmise she sought the corner for shelter from the madness she saw coming. A madness we in these here parts speak of in a soft whisper.)
Casey.
Aunt Donna tried to ignore the brewing storm.
But then Casey started to snap, and the only way to keep her in check was to guard her closely. Sneaky Pete that she was, she tried to convince us that all was well...
but we didn't fool easily. Anyone could see those teeth were about to splinter into a million tiny pieces of sand at the slightest hint of a stitch dropping.
So, for the safety of all present, I thought it was best to bring the session to a close. We took some progress shots, and all agreed to practice until we met up at the family reunion in a month's time...
(They were so excited, I think, to be done and saved from Casey's imminent rupture... Personally, I like to think Aunt Bonnie is keeping an eye on her in this picture, afraid to turn her back, if you will.)
Casey, however, actually exhibited the most relief and regained her sanity.
One month later, Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Donna were still knitting, whereas Jeri and Casey conveniently "lost" their needles.
(P.S. Please forgive the blurry bottom corner on these shots - I didn't realize there was a fingerprint smudge on the lens of the camera until later that day).
Bonus for those who made it to the end of this post...
