Here's the status of the holiday knitting. The hedgehog (top) is untouched. The mystery thing (clockwise) has a couple more inches on it, and I wound the second ball of yarn for that. The Sea Silk scarf pulled out in front of everything else last week. The sari silk scarf is untouched. The scarf I plan to knit for The Fool is unwound. And the single sock? The sock with a mate I cast on and lost? Still gone.
What will our knitter accomplish by next week? Stay tuned.
I'm entertaining myself today by listening to This American Life on the computer. I love this show. And I just discovered their archives.
So I've been thinking about whether or not it's good to have a husband who knits. That's something people have brought up in comments in one way or another. I thought I'd examine this more completely.
Pro: Because the Fool knits, he understands how much yarn costs, how much books costs, etc., etc. So when I spend money on yarn/ books/ etc., he doesn't really raise an eyebrow. There's none of the "You spent *how* much?"
I quilt too, and until it sank in that I own more fabric than I will sew in my lifetime and I should stop buying stuff until I caught up a little bit, I used to feel guilty about some of my purchases. The Fool never said anything, but I always worried that in the back of his mind, he was wondering if we'd ever be able to buy a house, or if our collective life's work would be sunk into Kona Bay cottons.
Con: You know how much you spend on yarn, books, etc? Yeah, well, now he spends that much too. And he spins.
Economy of scale
Pro: OK. So we both knit. But there's no chance we'll both be putting sweaters on holders at the same time, both be using #13s to knit felted cat beds, both need the 20-inch #6 circular.
Con: You'd be surprised how many knitting projects require the same notions at the same time.
Knitting is the new yoga
Pro: One of the things I like about knitting is that it's a craft one can take at one's own pace. I can knit something just as hard, or as easy, as I feel like tackling. I tend to be a little competitive about stuff, so knitting is a good way for me to calm down.
Con: I tend to be a little competitive about stuff, so we have conversations like this.
FOOL: What's this Knitting Guild of America certification stuff?
ME: It's some thing where you do all these exercises and design sweaters and stuff, and then you get certified.
FOOL: Then what?
ME: I guess you could use it if you wanted to get a gig as a knitting teacher.
FOOL: It sounds sort of interesting. I bet you could learn a lot of stuff just working through it.
ME: Yeah, maybe.
(Thinking: Oh, hell! If he does this, then I'll have to do it and I don't want to do it, but I can't let him be the only one in the house to do it!)
ME: I think it's a bad idea. Lots of people get diseases from it.
The Honey-do list:
Pro: I'll confess, I got the Fool to start knitting because I was bored to tears with a kitchen cotton rug I was knitting. So I showed him how to knit, and that was the beginning of the end. And sometimes, if I have something especially odious in the fiber arts that I wish to push off on someone else (Kitchenering socks, for example), he is the someone else I turn to. (He's also the someone else I turn to if there are bugs to kill, if there are things I need from high shelves, or if there's that weird wet food stuck in the sink trap -- shudder!)
Con: That kind of thing goes both ways. So now I have to teach him the crochet cast-on and if there's weird knitter math to be done, I am often the one to help him do it.
Pro: Rhinebeck? Sure! How about Maryland next spring? Absolutely! Sweetie, there's a new yarn shop opening up next weekend. Let's go!
Con: None, unless I suggest that I might like to go a women-only fiber event without him.
In total? I think it's easier this way. There's plenty of other things I do that make him say, "Honey, you're very weird." It's much better that I don't add something else to the list.