I recently bought one of the Yarn Harlot books ("At Knit's End, Meditations for Women who Knit too much") and it has been making me laugh out loud all over the place (in the tube, waiting in queues, in bed at night, etc.). I find the "You know you knit too much when..." pages the funniest… probably because I recognise myself in most of them!
So I decided to have a go at my own personal list. Here is my top 8:
I know I knit too much because:
-I read patterns in bed before going to sleep
-I have read every one of the patterns I read in bed before going to sleep about 10 times.
-I show guests my wool collection despite the fact that I can see on their faces that they would probably be more interested in seeing the contents of our bathroom cupboard than my wool basket.
-I got loads of great presents for my birthday (see photo below) and although I really was very happy with them, I just can’t believe nobody thought of wool.
-I secretly hope my friends and family will have daughters instead of sons, because baby girls are more fun to knit for than little boys.
- I bought a baby doll the size of a newborn baby to use for sizing when I design clothes, but find myself frantically swinging it under the bed or behind the sofa whenever anyone rings our doorbell.
-I scream at my boyfriend for moving my knitting off the sofa and onto the table or anywhere else- after all, he might cause a stitch to drop off one of the needles, and in any case, there was no need to move my knitting… or even to touch it for that matter!
-I frequently log on to knitting shops and select all kinds of patterns and yarns, loads of them, then follow all the steps through to "checkout", only to delete the entire contents of my shopping cart... I knew all along there was no way I could justify spending that much money on wool and patterns, but I just wanted to see what my cart looked like and what I would choose if only I could have anything I wanted…
It's bad. It really is.
Now something completely different: a story that has left me very puzzled. Ever since we moved into this flat, about two years ago, I have occasionally ordered knitting books online, since as most people who live here know, it is pretty much impossible to find patterns or knitting books in Spain. Now, until recently, whenever one of the parcels from abroad arrived, I would feel very guilty for making the poor postman climb up to the 8th floor (granted there is a lift that takes you to the 6th floor, but still!) to leave my parcel in front of my door. So, one day when I happened to bump into him and he was holding a parcel for me, I apologetically explained that they were knitting books that I ordered online because I couldn’t find them here, and said I was really grateful that he always left them in front of my door. He gave me a bit of a strange look, shrugged his shoulders and grunted something at me. What part of my story offended him is a mystery to me, but ever since we had that conversation (or I had that monologue in his presence) he has just left anything addressed to me on top of the letterboxes downstairs... Does he think knitting books aren't worthy of the effort it takes to get up to the 8th floor? Or does he think it was a joke and I was making fun of him? I don't know, but never again has he left a parcel in front of my door. The other day a neighbour who I am friendly with came to the door holding a big padded envelope for me. She said she had found it on the floor in the entrance hall, and was afraid one of the other neighbours would run off with it if she didn't bring it to me... I was very grateful to her because it is true that some of my (very nosy!) neighbours have in the past helped themselves to things addressed to me…such as my Redoute catalogue! So now if I know one of my books is about to arrive, I run downstairs to check the letterboxes every morning (around noon when the postman tends to come) to make sure that I am the first person down there.
I only hope that if one of these days one of my neighbours does get there first and decides to have a look in one of my parcels, he/she will put it back downstairs again once he/she realises it contains books full of knitting patterns written in English!
I never knew having knitting books delivered could become so complicated!