An Introduction

Welcome to my knitting blog. I'm glad you've chosen to pay a visit.

I am the secret knitter, although for you the readers, I'm not going to play around and try to hide my identity. Recently I learned how to knit, and since I haven't told anyone (but am dying to, in some respects), this is the next best way to talk about knitting while keeping who I am confidential.

So who am I, you ask. That's quite the rhetorical, existential question. I don't know that I'm prepared to answer such a lofty inquiry, but I can tell you that I am the author of (site link removed). For those of you who think that the answer can't be that easy, let me assure you that this isn't some mystery writer's trick in which a big secret is revealed upfront and then later proven to be a diversionary tactic. I'm not Sacha Baron Cohen either. I am who I'm claiming to be.

If I'm unmasking myself from the outset, why bother writing anonymously? Simple: I don't want friends and family finding out just yet. Unless I'm miscalculating on how trackbacks, search engines, and RSS feeds work, I should be able to link to my other site without establishing a strong tie to this one, so I have no problem telling you who I am. I have the top Google results for my name, which is why I'm avoiding posting it here. I don't think the people I know search the web for my name--that's for me to do, although do I ever know the consequences--but I'm trying to be cautious.

But I don't want this to be about who the secret knitter is, unless there's a book deal to be had from blogger-hungry publishers. The reason I'm here and you're here is to talk knitting!

It's safe to say that until the past month or so, I never would have considered taking up knitting. I never would have considered considering taking up knitting. As a single guy in my early thirties, it's not exactly at the top of the list of Things To Do. On the other hand, maybe defying expectations is very punk rock. Or not.

I didn't give knitting a second thought until I met Kristin. She's a fellow film critic in town who also keeps her own well-written knitting blog. I enjoyed reading her site, even when the knitspeak made no sense to me, and occasionally asked her about knitting. Her enthusiasm for knitting is inspiring--it's always nice to hear people talk about their passions--and she speaks highly of knitting as a stress reliever.

Granted, my work isn't as stressful as the tasks performed by Mike Rowe on the Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs, but I think most of us can relate to feeling like everyday life moves too fast. Something that slows me down for awhile could be a very good thing. Plus, learning how to knit means I can make scarves as Christmas gifts for my family. They’ll never see it coming, and the thought of shocking them with handmade presents is irresistible.

Still, there was an obstacle to surmount. Knitting is for blue-haired grandmothers, right? Or, more generally, it's only for women, isn't it? Not that it should matter… Still, Kristin assured me that men knit too. And who says you can’t like watching hockey games and knitting? (For the record, I can’t do both simultaneously, at least not right now.)

I expressed my interest in learning, and she offered to teach me. Needless to say, I lucked out. It’s much more comfortable having a friend showing me the way than daring to take a beginner’s class, which I never would have had the courage to do. We made plans to get together after a morning screening and start my knitting education.

Meanwhile, I e-mailed and phoned family members with a simple question: what’s your favorite color? It’s an innocent thing to ask, but you wouldn’t believe how much trouble it was to get a straight answer. One brother said that there are millions of colors and that he didn’t have the time to narrow it down. (Eventually he committed to “green”, probably to keep me from pestering him about it. Now I have to hope I get the shade right.) Most of them wanted to know why I wanted to know. I didn’t let on, and they’ll never guess. Do you understand why I’m trying to keep this hush-hush?

In all honesty, though, I also want to keep my knitting quiet for the time being because I know at least a couple people will razz me about it. Yeah, yeah, who cares what other people think? (We do, of course, despite what our parents might have told us about being ourselves. And by we, I mean me, although I'm sure you were raised right as well.)

Next…I pick up the needles for the first time and get hooked.