Hobby

Here’s something most people don’t know about me.

I know how to knit and crochet.

Nothing earth-shattering, I know, but significant to me. And embarrassing. Because when my husband and I were dating, we used to make fun of the mousey, dress-wearing, book-reading, hermit-like librarian at college who knit at work. Not very Christian-like, I know. But I was young and immature and not-at-all like my smart, homeschooled children who know that Christians should be kind and loving to others. No matter what their hobbies.

And now I’m that librarian. Except for the mousey part. I’ve never seen a 5’10” pregnant mouse, but I don’t get out much so who knows?

See, the only reason why I did not stick with knitting and crocheting back when I learned it 18 years ago, (besides the embarrassment in admitting that it’s a pretty cool hobby) was because I have a major problem with acrylic. I have determined that I am a yarn snob. But there is no area in my budget for cashmere or alpaca or silk yarn to knit with to my heart’s content. And when winter hits, I get an itch to start 38 knitting projects. Except, the only yarn I can afford is acrylic. So, since I am a huge fan of finding solutions to problems in the thriftiest manner possible, I decided to find out how I could afford a more pleasurable knitting experience. And I discovered recycled yarn. In Weirdly Thrifty speak, this means finding cheap but high-quality sweaters at thrift stores, and unraveling them to make luxurious yarn. So I tried it, and I am hooked. (Get it?) I now have 15 balls of Eddie Bauer cotton, cranberry-colored yarn sitting in my room right now. I got the sweater for $.99.

I think I hurt my shoulder trying to pat myself on the back for that.

Of course, it took me 3 sweaters made of wool (which is what I REALLY wanted) to figure out how to unravel correctly, but that’s beside the point. No really. It is.

So this morning I sat unraveling, while listening to various children read to me, ask math questions, and do their typing CD-ROM. And I was imagining myself knitting happily instead of tapping my foot, counting the seconds ticking painfully by, and plucking the last few hairs left in my head while listening to the excruciating sounding-out process of small children, learning to read. While I thrill in the fact that I taught my children to read, the process could put me in a mental institution.

So now I guess I’m a knitting geek. Laugh at me if you want. Me and my wool, hand-knitted tote bags and gorgeous handmade sweaters can take it.