I’m mastering a new language. It goes something like this: k3 (ssk yo k5) k1.

Figure it out? Me neither, but I’m learning. It’s a line of instructions for a scarf I’m going to make. Yes, I’ve decided to become a knitter.

I was walking through town when I saw this group of women at the local coffee shop. These women were sitting there, talking and knitting. I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t a group of old ladies with blue hair and bifocals knitting grotesque sweaters for their grandkids. This was the closest us Oregonians come to hipsters. Some with the coolest tattoos I’ve ever seen. I asked the barista what they were doing and she told me it was a stitch ‘n bitch group. I looked it up at home and stitch ‘n bitch has been around since World War II. It’s kinda like part therapy, part party, part creative outlet. I think it’s just what I need.

My Dad’s been showing me the basics so I don’t walk in knowing nothing. He had to knit his own socks as a kid back in England. My grandfather taught him how. He even said his Mom ran a group like the one in town!

Their website says they accept newbies and teach, but I don’t know. I want to go in confident or at least acting like I am. Think it’ll make it easier to make friends if I’m not so nervous about poking myself in the eye.

There’s this super cool pattern for socks that look like the Tardis from Doctor Who I want to tackle. I might even knit something to cover my tank. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I’m hopeful this will be good for me because I can’t let the motel guests be my only social interactions. And Norman has a hobby now so why shouldn’t I? I need to widen my horizons, as my counselor at school would say. I’ll keep you all posted on my progress.