I'm Back!

And this time it's with a vengence.

I just got back from Camp Cockamamie hosted by Blue Moon Fiber Arts of Socks that Rock Fame and man oh man was it great. Life simply does not get better than hanging out with the Blue Moon gals on Orcas Island talking about knitting and socks for 3 full days. Socks were knit, skills were learned, a dpn v. circ smackdown occurred that may very well go down in knit history, and the SSK was discussed in much depth. But most of all I came away completely inspired. The main thing I have realized is that, along with all things in my life, I need to blog on a level I am comfortable and happy with. And frankly that isn't going to involve a lot of pictures; I just can't do the pictures and, now, that is fine with me. So now I am going to blog for me and do it my way, that Sinatra was really on to something.

Now I will continue on to my thoughts on camp. I am not going to do a blow by blow because a lot of other people have and mine wouldn't be much different. My thoughts though are all mine. I think what I loved most about camp was that not a single person was there alone. Many of them, like myself, may have physically gotten on the plane or in the car alone, but they weren't truly alone. I heard time and time again stories about how someone wasn't going to come but then her husband said she really had to, or her husband gave her the trip to camp for Christmas, or, one of my favorites, an old friend from across the country flew out to help take care of the kids after the childcare fell through so she could go to camp. There were also plenty of husbands there who were more than willing to entertain themselves for the day while their wives went to camp and meet up for dinner. In this day and age the actual act of knitting is somewhat inconsequential (no one knits socks because thier feet would freeze or their children would go hungry otherwise), but it is our passion and the support of those around us, knitters and muggles alike, that makes knitting of consequence. Simply knitting in a blank room with no one to show lace shawls to or no one to congratulate you on your first Fair Ilse sweater wouldn't be enough for anyone, even those process knitters. Knitting is inherently social (it really only occupies your hands, leaving your mouth and brain a lot of time to keep themselves busy) and I love the social support every single person came to camp with.

When I wondered whether I really should go to camp for a myriad of reasons it was my mother who didn't even hesitate to say that I should go, there was no question in her mind. She knows (it's no big secret) how much I love knitting and that this would be an awesome opportunity. It was also my family that sat quietly and listened to me go on and on (and on and on and on) about camp and fabulously wonderful it was. It is my friends (a lovely mix of muggles and knitters and some that fall in between) that eagerly await my report on camp and wonder how it was. I honestly feel that without them it simply wouldn't have been the same. I know that the web-based community of knitting is awesome and has a special power of it's own, but I think we all need to also recognize the community in our tangible lives. The family that doesn't blink when more yarn comes in the house, the friends that admire your new cardigan (or in my case the friend that bores her family to tears about the details of a sweater I am knitting her, the web is bigger than we think) and the co-workers that no longer wonder at your only wearing handknit socks in slightly radical colors.



We salute you supporters of knitters for you make our passion consequential.