It's a Group Effort

I think I better prepare for some Chickenhead withdrawals.

I had to miss last week because of an appointment and I'll miss this week too since I am out of town visiting a friend and her beautiful baby girl. I've only got a few more weeks of medical leave left and, since I'm feeling pretty mobile these days (I had major orthopedic surgery in March if you didn't know), I thought I'd get a visit in before life gets hectic again.

One of the best things about knowing how to knit is how much more enjoyable airplane trips become. I mean, I spend most of my days trying to find a few hours of uninterrupted time to focus on my project and nothing else. What better place than a few thousand feet up in the air? No phones, no email and, if you act unapproachable enough (I can), nobody trying to talk to you.

However, there is one kind of person that will almost always talk to you when you are knitting in public. And those I don't mind because they remind me to be proud of my new skill and grateful for my group of Chickenheads who made sure I stuck around to learn it. I'm sure you have encountered these people hundreds of times yourself. They are the ones who come up to you and say, "Ohhhh, wow, you're knitting. I wish I could do that. I tried to do it but I just couldn't figure it out and gave up after a few tries."

To which I always respond, "You know, it's not as hard as you think. But the main reason I stuck with it is because I have a knitting group that meets every week, with plenty of talent to help me through the rough spots. If I tried to learn on my own I would have given up pretty quickly too."

And I did. My very crafty friend tried to teach me many years ago. I got the hang of it after awhile, but the second she got on a plane and went home, I forgot everything and shoved the needles and yarn she gave me into a basket where they stayed untouched for years. And guess who I am visiting right now? That's right...that very same crafty friend. Which is why I proudly packed two of my knitting projects in my suitcase.

Today it was the flight attendant who approached with that familiar tone of longing for the hobby that passed her by. She was clearly tired from a long day and making her way down the aisle collecting trash before our final decent. When she saw the soft mohair yarn wrapped around my needles (this is the recovery blanket I've blogged about before), she stopped and stared for a few seconds before she shared her story of knitting failure.

We only had a few seconds before she had to keep moving but I made sure to tell her why I stuck with it - my Chickenheads. I'd like to think she walked down that aisle toward the back of the plane making a mental list of the women she would ask to be the founding members of her knitting group.

Bock, bock.