Overheard on the bus
I’m sure anybody who’s knitted or crocheted on the subway or bus or plane has had all kinds of reactions from indulgent, smiling grannies and puzzled and wary businessmen. No doubt people have gently suggested that nowadays store-bought socks are cheaper. Surely someone has, as if they were the only ones to have thought of such a hilarious idea, asked you to knit something for them, gallantly offering to actually wear it. I usually smile and nod and move on. I don’t feel the need to assert some kind of "knitter" identity or give much thought to the "hipness" or historic heritage or spirituality of knitting (and this whole "represent" thing in NYC for the Harlot’s new book has left me a bit puzzled, honestly); it’s just something I like to do (okay I admit that’s an understatement) along with music and reading and travelling. But yesterday a bizarre bus encounter made me wonder about the wisdom of knitting in confined spaced with strangers. The conversation went like this:
She (a young woman in a business suit with a booming voice, sitting about five seats away, facing me): Excuse me. Excuse ME. EXCUSE ME!!!.
I (looking up after the third time, realizing it’s me she’s talking to): Yes?
She: Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s very PRETTY! (Sorry, the capitals are the only way I can give any sense of how piercing her voice was) What is it?
I: Thank you. I’m knitting a sock.
She: Well, isn’t that nice. I wish I could do that.
I: (folks will recognize the standard response): Oh it’s much easier than it looks, you should try it.
She: Well, it might be easy, but you aren’t going to make any MONEY from it, now are you?
I: (a little surprised, also embarrassed at the attention all this is getting in the bus): No, no, just for fun.
She: I suppose I could take a class. I had circular needles once, but I couldn’t cast on. I couldn’t CAST ON! You hear me?
I: Sure. Sure. Lots of yarn stores have classes.
She: Why can’t I do something fashionable? So many women from my class in school made so much money with fashionable stuff, and here I am, I can’t even cast on. Tell me, what should I do? Should I knit some socks?
I: Er, I’m getting off, it’s my stop.
She: But you won’t make any money, let me tell you….
I didn’t hear the rest. I wish I could say that her companion sitting next to her had dared her to put up this strange act in the bus: "Hey, ten bucks if you can startle that weirdo sitting there with all those needles," that sort of thing. Unfortunately, I don’t think that was the case. My Jaywalkers seemed to set off something in her.
Well.
Spiral Scarf
Spring break has brought with it a serious case of startitis. I recently bought a copy of Norah Gaughan’s Knitting Nature, and I think I’m going to start at least five projects from this wonderful book this week. (only partly kidding). I started the Spiral Scarf:
One skein Koigu in blues-greens-purples, another Claudia Handpainted in deep blues that I recently bought. The pattern calls for approx 400 yards, and I have about 350, which means a smaller scarf, but that’s okay. The pattern is somewhat oddly worded. It asks you to cast on using a "tail method" so that the tail can be used for casting on and picking up stitches for later hexagons. I’m not sure if this means you have to do a long-tail cast on for the first one, or how long the tail really needs to be, but I went ahead and started the first hexagon with a knitted cast on and left a long tail. Could anyone with a copy of the book please take a look and clarify that bit for me?
The problem is, the fabric is rather stiff. I might knit smaller hexagons of equal size on a looser gauge than spiralling down. Perhaps that will make it drapier and solve the length issue too? Let’s see. But what do you think of the way the colours are showing up? I’m still undecided, will knit some more and see.
The Namesake
Incidentally, I didn’t care much for the Namesake. The novel’s beauty lies in its spare and yet minute descriptions of everyday life and emotion, and I felt Mira Nair could have taken more liberties with it to better develop the characters on screen. It becomes
another occasion to showcase various rituals (in Monsoon Wedding it
was, well, wedding), here it is two weddings, an annaprashan (first
feeding ceremony) and a funeral. More colour and ceremony than characters, although I really liked the way she developed
Irrfan Khan and Tabu’s relationship; the bits in the Victoria Memorial
park and at the airport where they say goodbye were very well done. I like and admire both actors very much (Both of them were in Maqbool, a very interesting Hindi/Urdu adaptation of Macbeth, a film I recommend highly; Tabu also did a brilliant job in Chandni Bar.) and I
was curious to see them play very different roles from their earlier
collaboration. They both do a competent job, and I would see it again
just to see Irrfan Khan, who gets hotter and hotter with each screen
appearance, even though he looks scruffier and scruffier. He does so
much with just his eyes and body language; he’s wonderful. Kal Penn as the son is okay; he’s much better as a stoned guy than as an anguished and confused son.