It is inevitable. You manage to bring something you're knitting out in public and get down to business. Next thing you know, "Excuse me....what are you making? A scarf?"
"Um. No,..." You say. "It's a sweater."
Or, they'll ask if you're knitting a baby blanket. Especially if you're actually knitting socks, and they're 99 percent complete and one them is sitting right there, next to you on the table.
I don't know what it is about knitting that people, even many knitters, will automatically assume you're knitting a scarf or a baby blanket.
Hey, wait. I was going to harp on something I have absolutely no business harping on. You know: making assumptions about something one has no idea about. Like several Halloweens ago, back before Girlfriend, when all HWWV and I had to do was walk on over to the local Italian restaurant (which, if you can believe it, is now owned by our illustrious Italian restaurateur neighbor, the one with the cousins who broke in that night).
Anyway. Back in the day when our biggest worry was whether we should have the Chianti or the Merlot. Halloween night. Sitting there at the bar with our buds and the crew, yukking it up. We hung out there lots and knew the owners well enough to sit at the bar way past closing time and eat a late night/early morning dinner.
Joe, the owner's son, had a new girlfriend and was waiting for her to meet him there after she got off work. So, we're sitting around and I see that a few people must have come in after work, still wearing Halloween costumes.
"Oh, look over there, honey! See that man? He's wearing a fake mustache! I wonder if he was dressed as a cowboy or something at work..."
"Oh, and look at you! How'd you get that witch nose to stay on all day?"
Joe's new girlfriend finally shows up.
"Wendy, this is (can't remember her name, but go with it)...Trixie. We're going to have a quick drink and go to a party in a few minutes."
"Oh Trixie, so nice to meet you! Don't tell me how you're dressed. Hmmm. Let me guess. That mini skirt! And those shoes! They're a dead giveaway. Those super high-heels with see-through platforms. Yup. I know: You're dressed as a stripper! Fuh-nee!"
I don't know. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut or paid attention to the barkeep jumping up and down behind her, giving me glares and swinging his towel around in the air above him. Or the way the maitre d' got a funny look on his face, ducked under the bar, and took cover.
News was, Joe's girlfriend was a stripper. And she just got off of work. Oy.
See my new additions? I'm going to put a salve on the big wound that was (and still is; she's getting fixed) the Almost-a-Miracle Hoodie. I'm thinking this wonderful Blue Sky Alpacas in a deep green and a cornflower blue will make an amazing top. This time, also top down, but with an empire waist and tiny sleeves. Maybe we'll snazz it up with a tiny wavy stripe somewhere on the bodice. Just one. But we'll have to see. Motifs and I don't normally get along.