Relationships are all about give and take. For example, I pretend to care about my boyfriend’s video games and he pretends to care about my current knitting project. I sympathize when he is bludgeoned by a hoarde of killer zombies and he sympathizes when I have to frog an entire sweater. Here is the perspective of one man who struggles with co-habitating with an obsessed knitter...
In my experience, living with a "yarnie" means yielding your share of living space to an ever-expanding, sprawling stockpile of fibre. To cross the house I have to navigate my way through a labyrinth of baskets of balls and bags of half-finished, long abandoned projects. It also means finding balls of yarn in unexpected places like kitchen cupboards, behind rolls of toilet paper and in dresser drawers. Knitting needles pose an omnipresent risk, especially when they are poking out of the couch cushions or when they come flying at my face while a certain knitter is wildly gesticulating during a heated rant (most likely about the injustice of a poorly plotted colour chart or the like).
|As my boss would say, Don't you love his "come hither" look?|