Our backgrounds are as different as can be, our ages cover a wide spread, and yet there is at least one thing we can all agree on—how much we love to knit.
There is Marilyn, who’s been working on a blue sweater since I’ve known her. I know one day she’ll finish it and it’ll be beautiful.
There is Julie, who makes the most adorable sock monkey hats and is among the first to knit something for someone in need.
There is Kathy, who makes the coolest scarves, not to mention a tremendous tres leche cake.
There is Bonnie, who is the mother of a good friend, and might just be—in my humble opinion—the fastest knitter in the Midwest.
There is Dottie, who gives new meaning to the saying age is just a number and whose smile is one of the sweetest I’ve encountered.
There is Susan, her daughter, who has the patience of Job, helping us undo our mistakes, giving us the courage to tackle projects with cables and button holes and yarnovers.
A pair of needles and a skein of yarn give us reason to gather on Wednesday evenings to make good conversation, satisfy our sweet tooths and oow and aaw over one another’s creations. When I am with these women, I feel a sense of contentment that takes me back to my childhood. It’s as if I’m back in my grandmother’s living room, her hands patiently helping me insert needle through yarn as I learn to knit.
And it’s for that very reason I ask, Who says your friends all have to be your age?