This is another one of those posts from the road, the kind that I know some of you find boring, where I blather on about where I went and what I did and who I met, and what sort of transportation I took to get there. (Though the Kinnear thing was cool.) I know it’s a little boring…

Well, actually, I don’t. I know how it can be a little boring to you, it’s not at all boring to me. It turns out that something I’ve learned as I travel around doing all of this I’ve learning that there’s something in the world just about as interesting to me as knitting…and that’s Knitters, and I don’t think I should apologize at all for not finding them boring. Knitters come in such a wild assortment of humanity that I can’t help it. Besides, every time you think that you have a grip on what they are up to…..



These are the knitters I met in Boston. Don’t they look like every other sock/knitter picture I have ever taken? Doesn’t it look like it’s going to be ordinary and that nothing remarkable is going to happen at all?

Yeah. I know…but then? THEN THEY THREW PANTIES AT ME.



If I didn’t have photographic proof I wouldn’t believe it myself. I would have woken up this morning and thought…you know, what a totally strange dream. Totally. It turns out that the clever and perverse sense of humour among knitters has whacked me once again (much like the pair of gitch I took upside the head last night at the podium.) Apparently, I said in an Interview in Vogue this month, when asked how I coped with notoriety, that I didn’t feel at all famous. That it’s not like people were THROWING PANTIES AT ME.

Clearly I not only opened the door, but whacked a big ‘ole “hit me with underpants” sign on my head and I don’t think I have ever been more shocked, enchanted or amused. I am not sure who the instigators were, but considering that two of the panties that smacked me were signed by Danielle, and the The Feminist Mafia….and that Kimberly looked very, very amused indeed….I have my suspects. (I would also like to tell you how incredibly funny I think it is that the panties in question were size large and (mostly) white cotton. I think it is probably the first time in history that the pairs of panties whipped at someone haven’t been sexy little thongs. I love knitters.)

From there it got ordinary. If, you know..any of this is ordinary.

There were babies- little wee sleepy ones,


and funny laughing ones.


There were first sock knitters. (Yeah. I know. I said I was going to get a grip on the first sock thing. I lied. It’s first socks. I can’t help it.)

this is Curran and her first socks, not just a sock, but a whole pair, finished while I spoke.


Karen, Pam,Rebecca and Gina…(click to see them in all their glory)


and Downtown, who is not only showing off his first pair of socks,


but they are self-designed toe socks. Dude.

It was Meghann’s birthday!


And there were a plethora of young knitters. Behold, the next generation, Sophie, Louis, Taylor and Teddy. (Click to make the small knitters bigger.) Note that the next generation has an even gender split.


Finally, here’s Amanda, who brought me an Arizona washcloth…


Amanda, I made sure your hat got on it’s way to the hat lady, Kat, who I would like to thank for stepping up and getting it handled. Excellent job.

Now I’ve made my way to Madison Connecticut, where I’ll speak at RJ Julia tonight…and I got here this way…


He was not a knitter. I Kinneared him.