Well, we got rid of Netflix. A few weeks ago, I was the subject of a brutal three-inquisitor questioning over why we don’t have cable. I had actually convinced my IT guy for a minute that we didn’t even have internet, but I told him the truth once I felt that he was ready to follow me around with a National Georgraphic camera (“Look, it’s…READING A BOOK!”)
I don’t think Netflix is inherently bad, but it had become sort of a crutch. We were watching it when we were eating, bored, relaxing. We were watching Parks and Recreation for the millionth time instead of being challenged to find other ways to occupy our time. So, we dropped it.
If you’re going to be the office circus freak, why not go all the way, right?
It’s actually been quite….strange. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it yet either. Sometimes, I’ll stand in the living room with crazy eyes and whip my head around side to side looking for some source of entertainment. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to. The house is much quieter, much more pensive. Time has seem to slow down a bit, which I actually am okay with. My life isn’t whizzing by while I let hours slip by after watching an entire season of 24. Alex and I laid on the floor together and looked at a gardening book. I’ve recovered our dining room chairs. We started to paint the living and dining room. I think it’s going to be a much more productive year for us.
And it ISN’T this girl.
You know how some people say that marriages get stagnant and you feel like you know anything there is to know about a person?
That is not happening in our marriage.
Alex surprised the heck outta me when he said, “I’m gonna learn how to knit”. I mean, it didn’t REALLY surprise me, once I thought about it, since my husband enjoys learning how to build fires and sleep outside without a tent. I knew almost immediately that he wanted to knit himself a sweater…and wool socks…and some underwear.
I’m a fully supportive woman so I’ve been to four yarn stores twice in the past four days. On Friday, Alex emailed me and asked me to run by and get some chunky (gross word) yarn in preparation for his knitting lesson with Lori the Knitting Teacher (pictured above).
Without thinking, I wore my store-bought crocheted hat into the tiny, independently-owned yarn shop. The knitting vultures descended as I walked into the store and I had to reassure them that “No, I didn’t make this hat and yes, I’m a total poser”. It was a little scary and overwhelming. I walked out of the store with two skeins (yarn balls) of chunk and mega-super-chunk yarn.
THEN, after Alex’s lesson on Saturday, he wanted to go get some of his own knitting needles so I accompanied him because I knew the kind of place he was going to.
To Knit or Not to Knit- That is Knot the Question
A play in one act by Beth Wise
Alex- WASP male; dressed in jeans and a t-shirt; can’t remember the word ‘knitting’
Beth- wife of Alex; dressed like a homeless woman in two different colored t-shirts, sweatpants with a large grease stain on the front, and unbrushed hair; full of trepidation because she knows what’s coming
Mean lady- professional knitter; woman who helped Beth on Friday (Beth is unrecognizable now, like a reverse Pretty Woman); eating a Subway sandwich
Mean lady #2- manning the cashier
THE SCENE- A small, local knitting shop lined with yarn stacked to the ceiling and giant tables in the middle that are always occupied by women who have nothing better to do.
(Beth and Alex get out of their car and walk up to the small knitting shop. The door opens and they are greeted by the stares of 15 women sitting at a large table in the middle of the room and eating lunch. No one says anything.)
Beth: Good start.
Alex: Let’s do this.
(Beth and Alex begin to make their way to the back of the shop where the knitting needles are. Everyone else in the room has stopped eating and talking and stares at them as they pass by, as if they’ve never seen a man and his homeless friend set foot inside a knitting shop.)
Mean lady (finally): Can I help you? (directed to Beth)
(Beth opens and closes her mouth like a fish, which is her normal response to awkard situations)
Alex (heading toward the knitting needles): Oh, I just need to look at your…(awkward pause)… sewing needles.
(Everyone in the store starts tittering. Yes, they tittered. We’re talking about knitting here so words from the 1800s are appropriate.)
Mean lady: Uh, you know those aren’t sewing needles, right?
(Beth’s eyes get as wide as saucers, making her look, in fact, more homeless. She stares back and forth between Mean Lady and Alex)
Alex (flustered): Oh yes, I meant uh…(reads the packaging)…knitting needles.
(Everyone turns back to their lunch. Alex and Beth look at all of the needle selections. It appears that the store only carries bamboo needles. Alex wants aluminum or plastic.)
Mean Lady #2 (tired of watching the weirdos muck up her store): Can I help you with something?
Alex: Yeah, do you have any metal or plastic needles?
Mean Lady #2: Well, we have the Addi Turbos.
(Alex and Beth shake their heads around looking frantically for what she means by Addi Turbos. They finally see that she has indicated some circular knitting needles, which are for advanced knitters. Mean Lady #2 acts surprised that Beth can speak and understand English.)
Alex: Oh, you don’t have any metal straight needles?
Mean Lady #2: Oh no. We found that they’re too slippery for the yarn. We only carry the Addi’s.
Alex: Well, do you have any plastic needles?
Mean Lady #2 (scoffing): Uh, no. We don’t carry plastic needles in this shop.
Beth (whisphers loudly to Alex): That’s it. Let’s bail.
(Beth and Alex look at the bamboo needles for a few more seconds and then run out of the store, while everyone stares at their exit).
We seriously laughed SO hard in the car. We tried our luck at a different yarn store called the Woolie Ewe that was much nicer and friendlier.
So, my man has his knitting needles and he’s working on a “hand towel”. His eye is on the prize of eventually being able to knit a hoodie. Baby steps, baby steps.