I like to sit in the back of class and knit. I wish it wasn’t so, but the truth is, it’s knitting that keeps me from sleeping through my lectures every morning, and I prefer to stay awake and take in half an earful, than struggle against my dropping eyelids and slumping body, which often results in the failure of even a teaspoon reaching my ears.
I prefer the back of class, because I assume that this habit will only serve as a distraction to my peers, who are wrestling as well with Hypnos and his dark cave. Now, it is a universal truth that the back of any classroom is typically filled with the uninterested and the too cool, but I fit into neither of those categories, thus making me a bit of an outcast in my tiny niche – a damning for which I take full responsibility. Luckily, through this demotion to the nethermost corner of the classroom, I happened to meet another outsider: Terry.
I feel harsh calling Terry an outsider – she certainly shouldn’t be one under any normal circumstances – but she needed to resit a year of our course, meaning she has now joined a group of people who have spent the last 2 or 3 years bonding in and out of class. There are others in our class in similar circumstances, and I must admit not going out of my way to become friends with these newcomers; thus I am equally guilty of being a bit clique-y.
However, because I saw Terry most mornings, we started chatting: she wanted to know what I was knitting, and we talked about the clothes she would occasionally sew. Her mothers knits as well, creating the most lovely and perfectly-stitched sweaters in patterns that reflect the tradition of the craft in China, where Terry is from and her mother still lives. When flipping through my copy of Whimsical Little Knits, she was particularly enamored with Mousie, and wanted to borrow the pattern for her mother to make.
Instead, I decided to surprise her with a little Mousie of my own. I used leftovers from my Grayson socks and a bit of pink 4-ply that has been kicking around for awhile now, just waiting to be made into the most perfect scarf, and knit the wee critter in the evenings. He was very simple and pleasing to make, and while I had never thought I would make a knitted mouse, I’m very glad I did!
When I gave Terry the mouse, she was delighted. In return I got a big hug and a ferrero rocher – a perfect trade, I think.