You Do It Your Way and I Will Do It Mine

It was the 3rd grade. Mrs. Hayden's class. That's the first time I encountered this particular nemesis.

The song, "Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head" was playing in the background and we were practicing our cursive letters in the air. Mrs. H was walking around the class making sure we all were "writing" the letter of the day correctly. That's when she came up to my desk and gave me it. Apparently the death grip I used on my pencil wasn't acceptable and without a pencil grip my future handing writing would surely suffer - greatly. I used it for awhile, but it was uncomfortable and made me hate writing things out more than it corrected this supposed problem. When I could, I would slip it off my pencil and go commando. Of course I got in trouble for this. And, needless to say, it was a long year of learning cursive.

For me it just boiled down to the fact that the death grip was a lot more comfortable than when I was using the "correct" form. I still use that death grip whenever I pick up a pen or pencil. I don't see this as a problem however, even as an adult I still get periodic comments from people about this. Yes folks, grown adults have a problem with the way I hold my pen. To them I say - You do it your way and I will will do it mine.

I've been knitting on a regular basis, and socially now, for two years.

So, you can imagine my surprise when a few people made comments after all this time. Had they not noticed before? But for some unknown reason, about a month or two ago I started to get comments about how I hold my needles when I knit. It was out blue. About half a dozen people took notice and led them to say - "You hold you needles strangely."

This is not something I didn't know. I've been aware of this for sometime now. However, it's just like the death grip. I really didn't see it as a problem or something bad. It was just what it was - comfortable and familiar.

The first time it happened I just simply replied, "Ok" and gave the person a "that's a random thing to say" glance. The next couple of times I really didn't say much because I was trying to figure out if there was a full-moon causing everyone to say something to me about this or if there was some e-mail being circulated around. I suspected it read:

"Subject: Froggie's Knitting Form

It's come to our attention that Froggie does not hold her knitting needles in the acceptable form issued by the National Society of Knitters. Upon your next interaction with said offender please make sure she is aware that of said issue and that should she continue to conduct herself in this manner, beyond this "first warning," she will be subject to further disciplinary action."

Ok, that was far-fetched. I guess the timing off all these comments was just random and coincidental. However, coincident or not, being told I knit strangely made me a bit uneasy. It's like being told a part of you is unacceptable and you need to change it immediately. At least that is how it felt at first. I didn't realize there was a proper way to hold knitting needles. If anything I would think it just gives me, and my knitting, more "character."

Interestingly enough, the night I got one of these comments someone in the group came to my defense by mentioning that the Yarn Harlot holds her needles in a different manner as well. From what I'm told she tucks a straight needle under right her arm - which I had never seen someone do until last week. (Can I just say that I think this is a great method should you find yourself without a place to sit and needing to pass the time?). I don't tuck my needles until my right arm. I just anchor the right needle on my right leg or sometimes my hip. The left one is held up in the air like I believe it's suppose to be held. I've tried holding my needles the "right" way a few times and it slowed me down by leaps and bounds. It was like what I would imagine watching the hare run-out of stamina and totally collapse while the tortoise began to go all "Speedy Gonzales" and take the lead in the race.

Today, as I was finishing up a sock I started to wonder why I hold my needles the way I do. (I also tried holding my needles the "right" way - once again.) I realized that I never really figured out why I hold my pen with a death grip, but surely there has to be some reason for my knitting form. Right!? Just as I was about to cough it up to the idea it was what it was; it hit me. Back in early 2007 when I was getting back into knitting I would take my knitting with me on the train to and from work. Back then I sat next to the same place day-in and day-out. I sat on the inner part of the bench and had someone to the right of me. Yep, that's right. My odd knitting style developed because I was being considerate of another's space. (If being a lefty has done anything for me, it's made me more aware of ways to avoid elbowing others when sitting in close quarters.)

The comments about my knitting form make me laugh now as does comments about my writing death grip. I hold no grudges about the comments and appreciate the directness those people had with me about it. They could have easily just stared at me with a strange look on their face trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. Instead, they asked what was on their mind. And in the same fashion I answered and eventually commented, in not so many words - You do it your way and I will do it mine.

Until later . . .