I’m sitting by the pool on vacation and realize the lady next to me is knitting. Wait, no, not knitting. What’s that metal hook?
Ooooohhhh! I’ve heard about this. She’s crocheting. I watch for a few minutes. It does look easier.
It troubles me she’s using brown yarn. The hook thing is really small and so is whatever she’s making.
“Granny squares,” she tells me. “I don’t crochet very often, only on vacation. Sometimes it will take me two years to finish one square.”
I laugh and tell her I’m learning how to knit. I’m excited she’s a non-professional like me and even more so that she’s a self-admitted slacker. I consider telling her I can’t knit for shit either.
But then she looks embarrassed, shrugs and says, “I guess I’m not very committed. It’s not like knitting.”
She doesn’t seem interested in chatting further: no eye contact, turns away a little, continues crafting…
Oh. I see what’s happening here.
Well. For all she knows, I knit real clothes like sweaters with sleeves and no holes. Let her think so. I’m totally judging her dumb little granny square (even if it is an actual shape and has multiple colors) and lack of dedication to her craft.
I knit. Perhaps badly, but my commitment is solid. Solid, dammit! I vow to make something way cooler than a granny square and it’s not going to take me two years to do it.