Susan and the Turkey (or how I came to knit socks)

It's been well documented here that I have absolutely no interest in knitting socks. I wear high heels nearly every day. I'm not really the colorful sock type. I don't have a handknit sock kinda life. I loathe double pointed needles. I hate knitting two of anything. Sleeves drive me crazy because I have to knit two.

So why did I knit socks? Because my sister, Susan, wanted to knit socks. Susan is a quilter who occasionally veers off the piecing path to knit, crochet, and scrapbook. There is a woman in her (now our) office that I talked into trying knitting a few years ago and has become a very prolific sock knitter. I don't know if this woman even owns socks she didn't knit herself at this point. My sister has been fascinated by these cute colorful socks and told me several times she'd like to learn. I thought taking a class together would be a great way to spend time together and I knew that sock knitting would be the best way to tempt my sister into taking a class with me.

We will be lucky if they invite us back to take a class again. Mostly because we are nuts. It was really the turkey's fault that we were standing in the parking lot the first night laughing like escaped mental patients. Let me say first that until a couple years ago I had never even seen a wild turkey let alone wild turkeys walking along city streets. Okay, suburban streets but still. Lately I keep seeing turkeys. Not like, I'm seeing dancing purple elephants, but turkeys. Real turkeys.

Amazing Threads, my favorite knit shop ever, is in a complex of new office condo/townhouses. You've probably seen them, they are springing up everywhere. Buy your office/store space instead of leasing without having to be Trump buying a gigantic office tower? So I'm pulling into the complex the first night and I am struck by the sight of a cop with his lights flashing parked next to (you guessed it) a wild turkey. I drove around the corner and parked in front of the shop, which faces the other direction so there was no way to see the turkey being pulled over! Upon entering the shop I saw my sister shopping for her yarn and needles for the class and told her that I had just seen a turkey pulled over. She immediately thought I had been drinking.

The class was great, we learned to cast on and start knitting on two circular needles. I've got to admit I've tried to teach myself this technique before unsuccessfully and once I saw how the technique works it was one of those "duh" moments (how could I not have gotten this before?). We were relatively well behaved. I didn't even let on that I came into the class pretty sure that sock knitting was a big waste of time.

After class we walked out to our cars and stood talking, my sister standing with her back to the street. Over her shoulder I see the turkey walking along the boulevard!! Interrupting my sister mid-sentence, I exclaim loudly, "There it is!", startling her into grabbing my arm and replying, "What, what, where, where?!" Of course by this time the turkey is behind a bush and she once again thinks I'm nuts. I told her to wait and watch.

Quietly, like kids in a game of hide-and-seek, we waited and watched. When the turkey appears from behind the bush I point, "See, see I told you there was a turkey". To which my sister replied loudly and quickly (and I believe these words will be forever entered into family lore), "Shoot it!!"

What?! Shoot it? With the shotgun in my knitting bag? Oh yeah, that's right I don't own a shotgun and if I did I would be highly unlikely to have it in my sock knitting bag. When she realized the absurdity of what she had just said, she got the giggles. Which gave me the giggles. Which made us both have to pee. Which made us laugh harder. So here we are standing in front of the knitting shop laughing like loons, telling each other to stop because we are going to have an accident. I'm surprised they want us back at the shop. Ever.

So that is how I came to knit socks and nearly embarrassed myself at my favorite yarn shop to the point of not being able to go back there. (I mean seriously I do spend plenty of money there and Bobbie is really nice and laid back but I've gotta believe she would frown on people peeing their pants in front of her store.) The whole thing is (and I don't get to say this very often in my family) ALL MY SISTER'S FAULT.