My friend “blogless” Elizabeth suggested this title because I knit at night to network TV. This by no means implies that I’m a dedicated TV watcher. I still have an old tube TV (without any plans to switch to HDTV, plasma TV, or LCD)—I’d rather spend the money on yarn.
But I seem to need some patter in the background when I knit at the end of the day and want to unwind. Primetime TV dramas, preferably crime dramas, seem to fill the bill. The programs are linear and plot driven, and if I get engrossed in some knitting problem, I can ignore the show—and when I resume watching, I can still follow along with the plot. I’ve never managed to knit successfully to movies, new or old, because I end up watching them.
A more subtle reason for the title is that I’m in the prime of my knitting life, thanks to all you younger knitters and bloggers who have breathed new life into what most of my friends and work colleagues considered a quaint pastime. Knitting in the 1960s and 1970s was a lonely enterprise. Most of my friends didn’t knit at all, or if they did it was just to make the casual baby gift. Yarn stores had the most paltry selections, and the colors were dreadful. In those days, I bought yarn on trips to Europe, and I used French and Italian magazines as the basis for patterns of my own design. But in the 1980s, beginning with what seemed to be the availability of Rowan yarns and patterns, the publication of good knitting magazines, and books like Montse Stanley’s describing elegant cast-ons, bindoffs, and other finishing methods, caused me to rethink the way I created and constructed knitted garments. In recent years, I’ve attended fiber festivals and been overwhelmed by the yarns and the skill of dyers, but I’ve still been a solo knitter. So the Dark Ages of Knitting are over for me, and a Renaissance has begun, now that I can describe what I’m doing to people who get it, interact with you, and expand my skills.