I can’t stop thinking about a comment my brother-in-law made to his wife. I heard it indirectly from said wife. 

“He doesn’t want me to knit. He says it would make me look old. Like a granny.” She laughed.

Blah! Right? Classic gaslight. 

Meanwhile, I have taken up the sport of knitting. Me, a proud badge-wearing grandmother! Does my bum look big with this ball of wool? Do these knitting needles match my lipstick?

Who cares.

I’m majoring in sock disciplines, preferring a magic circle needle and following a toe-down pattern. Can you see what I did right there? I’m using the yarn lingo like a pro.

Knitting is a notch in my limited art belt and a welcome therapeutic tool. The rhythmic purl knit knit knit purl calms me and has both fringe and cringe benefits. I have lived relatively short on hobbies, so I hope knitting is a keeper.

Speaking of carry-on, who knew you could breeze through airport security with the little trackers snuggly tucked in your backpack? A symbol of reason in these chaotic times.

 As much as I might crap on the previously mentioned misogynistic knitting observation, I do carry my own activity prejudices. I wouldn’t be caught dead golfing because that’s for boring privileged people. I won’t scrapbook because that is for losers. You won’t see me joining the Gouache 101 lessons at my local community centre – too dull. And, heads up, no one surprise me with a birthday Groupon for a pottery workshop,….. about as stimulating as watching the crockpot lid fog up. 

Oh, and more men are seeing the benefits of taking up the yarn. Hmmm….what to buy my brother-in-law for Christmas….?