Soggy Knitting

It's raining on Knitting Night. Normally, not a problem, but I've recently started a knitting "circle," at the outdoor pool club (or, the stationary, secret cruise ship located in the heart of Philadelphia) , at which I am oh so lucky enough to be a member, having signed on as a friend's nanny years ago in hopes that it would lead to a full-fledged membership, which, sigh, it did. The pool club looks like a warehouse, but it's really an outdoor pool with a snazzy upper deck with an open bar, nightly except for Monday and Wednesday -- obviously, why we chose Monday for Knitting Night, as all Knitters know, knitting and pina coladas don't mix. Don't let friends Drink and Knit! Some bemoan the horrors of drunk dialing, but the horrors of drunk knitting! You can always claim amnesia the morning after drunk dialing (unless you've left that dreaded drunk message), but drunk knitting leads to much pain and ripping.

So, because I was the lone, visible poolside knitter, I was recruited by underground poolside knitters to start a knitting circle, I think with the hopes that I would actually teach newbies to knit. I made it clear I would be happy to show up, lend assistance, help a new knitter along, but that I just wasn't cut out for actually teaching from cast-on. Our flyer went up, and we had three knitters join our little group. Interesting group, one woman actually fell asleep while in midstitch, never saw that before, but the group must have been a success because the next week we had six knitters. Six knitters, but two circles -- bizarre. We had two round tables, not quite pushed together. I was sitting at one end, with another woman. Two other women were sitting at the far side of the other table. The fifth woman came, and pulled her chair up right in the middle of the two tables, with her back to my little semi-circle, cutting the circle in half. Hm. The next poor soul was a bit confused, but grabbed a seat kind of in between. So, this was to be week three, and I had high hopes to unite the two tables, that our group might even grow to 8 or 9, and that I could inspire the group to move beyond garter stitch scarves. I did see one woman knitting furiously all week, her scarf growing and growing, as she had clearly replaced pyschotherapy with knitting -- she could probably wrap that solid brown scarf around her neck ten times. And, n0w that we're probably rained out, and I won't be able to show her how to cast off, the monsterous snake will continue to grow! Rain be damned! I must save a future Frankenstein!