Strange Phenomena

So there I was. Minding my own business. Knitting up a test swatch of Andean Silk in the Pumpkin Patch colorway, because I'm thinking of using it for this. I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for one of my lovely assistants. After I had knit up a few rows, a mother walked in with her young son. I'd say he was about 4. Mom kept walking into the office, but I looked up to find him frozen in his tracks, staring at me slack jawed and wide eyed, like he'd just stumbled across a dinosaur. A curious creature who makes things with her hands, two sticks and some string. I wasn't at all surprised, because this happens quite a bit when I knit in public. Usually the girls are a bit chattier. "Oooh, look." I'll hear them whisper to their mothers. "What's she doing?"

"She's knitting. Mommy used to knit." they say a little wistfully, watching me too now like they want to pry the needles out of my hands and have a go. Seeing if their hands still know what their minds have forgotten.

And then it happens. The little one has inched closer and closer to have a better view and there's that ball of yarn just sitting there all plush and fuzzy and colorful and the mesmerizing click, click, click of the needles and how can any curious little soul resist. The hands reach out tentatively to touch and mom panics. "No!" she scolds, "Don't Touch!"

"It's alright." I say, "I don't mind."

And it is alright, because they've grown up in a disposable world. Toys break the day after you buy them and Happy Meals don't make you happy and the sweater from the mall falls apart with the very first washing, but it doesn't really matter because the shops have a new style in fashion next week, so you'll need to buy a new one anyways. And sure it feels like plastic, but why would you invest in anything else when it's not going to be around long enough to hold any true value for you?

So, I tell them it's alright and I tell them what animal the yarn comes from. We talk about farming and shearing and spinning and dyeing and making sweaters by hand that actually feel good when you wear them and how I really don't know how long it takes me to make something because I just want to be in the moment and enjoy the softness of my yarn and the click, click, click of my own needles. And then they smile at me in recognition because we understand one another perfectly.