Shredding Yarns

A lot has happened since I last wrote.  Sometimes life is slow and sometimes life speeds by.  Even in a sleepy suburban burgh of low global consequence.  When you’ve lived most of your life filled with things and doings, some life events bring you back down to realising that it’s people, your people that make your life.  Who they are and what they’ve done nor even whether or not they look similar to you don’t matter as much as their just being a part of who you and yours are.  When I joined this knitting group, I gained a group of friends.

In one week, actually in the span of the last 24 hours, we had a birth and a death.  One of us became a grandparent and one of us lost a life partner.  One has a parent in the hospital and one has someone close get the bad diagnosis.  That last one is me.

The irony or coincidence is just as we had chosen our year’s charity knit to be breast prosthesis, Tits Bits or Knitted Knockers depending on which side of the border you boat.  I had just gotten the yarn and not yet cast on when I got the news.  Our resident DPN (double pointed needle) specialist was already three pairs in, and I asked for her help.  Her handiwork on such a piece was going to be superior to mine, so I asked if I could commission one from her.  I felt guilty for asking since she just got a diagnosis of lateral epicondylitis (aka knitting/tennis elbow), but if there was anytime to ask for a favour, this was it.  When someone you know and love has The Big C and someone else you know and love is doing something related to it; it was like letting the right hand talk to the left hand.

It’s not the first tragedy to befall us. but like hurricanes and tornadoes, it seems like dramatic events come into season in clusters.  And so we rally for each other.

Shredding Yarns

About a year ago I joined a knitting group.  The sister of a friend had also just moved back to the area not long ago and was kind enough to want to help me make some friends.  So she brought me to her group.  Her family is very creative and so was aware that I was somewhat, too.  I guess creative types gravitate toward each other like that.

I went to the first meeting with her.  She picked me up and drove us down some dark and mysterious roads, and when we finally got there, it was as unassuming as you could imagine – in the back of a fast food joint was a nearly private room.  Something was off about it though; it was colder than you would imagine the temperature should be at such a public eatery.  Some of the members seemed to have designated seats.  Windy and I, and another of the last to arrive just filled in the remaining ones rather casually – no need to stir the pot, and especially as I was a newcomer, I was happy just to be included. Michelle gave a sigh, a momentary dissatisfaction at the seating arrangements, but I suppose not wanting to start a fight or a just picking her battles, this was not one she deigned to get into that night.

I was introduced to all of the women, and they were all friendly enough to me.  I was sat next to Jebba, an unusual name, but she was raised in a religious cult in which Jebbas were actually quite common.  She had some unusual tattoos; not knowing the cultural norms of the region yet, I didn’t ask about them.  I couldn’t make them out, but like when you see a row of numbers tattooed on the arms of people approximately the age to have been alive during World War II, you don’t ask unless they bring it up.  She was boisterous in the a bit too friendly way, something was awkward about it.  She seemed not to acknowledge the existence of some of the other people in the group at all.  It could’ve been down to the fact that there were many of us there and you don’t always get a chance to talk to everyone.

There was another newcomer that night, Edith.  She was a bit older than the rest of us and periodically would alternate between having a seizure where she froze or convulsions.  It made that first evening somewhat eventful, even for the regulars.  She was a sweet old lady though, just a little scary in the health department.  She was missing her front teeth, gnawed down from biting sticks during the seizures so that she wouldn’t swallow her tongue, as her brother who accompanied her informed us.

Deidre seemed to be the leader of the group.  She was quiet and dignified in a way that you knew she wielded a lot of power.  A mother hen type, caring and giving, but just in case, you might not want to get on her bad side.

Lafawnduh, or at least I think that might be her name, was plugging away at her knitting voraciously.  A few times during the night, I stopped my knitting just to marvel at her hands and what they were producing.  It was a beautiful blanket in which sailboats seemed to float off the waves in a 3D way.

Michelle talked to me most that night.  Definitely an extrovert, one of those who pulls people into the activity of a group.  A high powered professional who sought knitting as a way to release the stress in her life.  Despite being a beginner, she’s easily one of the most enthusiastic about it.

I had a really good time.  I had dug up an old piece found in the corner of a closet.  I had been an avid knitter when I was younger, but yarn was so expensive in New York City, it wasn’t a feasible hobby to keep up.  I had set it aside all that time.  I didn’t get much done that first knit night; I couldn’t quite get back into the swing of where I had left off all those years ago.  And well, I spent a lot of my energy on listening intently to all the talk going around.  It was good to be among a friendly group of people, and well, I detected some animosity, which made the talk that much more interesting.  If not to work on my knitting, I have to stick with this group to figure out what’s going on.

Windy hadn’t talked to me much at the restaurant as the others were extending friendly words to welcome me into the fold.  But when the knitting session ended and we got into her car, she burst forth as if she had been holding her breath all night.  At a mile a minute she tried to explain.  I didn’t quite catch all of it, all of the characters were still new to me and I could barely remember their names, but she confirmed my suspicion and during the course of the year, a lot came to pass.