Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Knitting Badges

I'm home sick today. Our TV isn't hooked up so I have no mundane daytime TV, no good books that I want to read, almost too tired to knit. Perhaps it's a DVD day, but I found myself listening to old podcasts that I kept.

Cast on did a series awhile ago on going to camp and earning knitting badges. Here are my two and their stories.


The “Proselytize Knitting” Badge - A requirement for all Knitting Scouts, the recipient must do his or her bit to present knitting in a positive light, whilst at the same time avoiding all references to “hipness”, grandmothers, and yoga.

I've taught many people how to knit, have knit in public and have done much to advance the cause of said craft. Also, have encouraged others to take the next step in their knitting progress, whether willing or not. Badge earned and then some.

The “Knitting Has Forced Me to Seek Medical Attention” Badge (Level Two) - In which the recipient has been forced to seek the advice of a medical doctor, nurse, or alternative healthcare professional, in a hospital emergency room, for injuries sustained

In my first foray into knitting socks, it was when we lived in an apartment and were married for only a few years. I got it into my head that I wanted a "sock making box." It was a fantastic idea; a square box to hold the yarn, a hole in the top and the instructions written on the outside. I found a perfect sized box and put a skein inside. Now, for the hole in the top. I took one of hubby's pocket knives and proceeded to cut a 2" round hole.

Knowing what I got the badge for, guess what happened? The knife slipped and cut my left index finger. I stared at it and thought, "wow, that's deep." Hubby caught on eventually that I was bleeding a bit and it was too big for a bandage. In fact, it looked like it needed stitches. He rushed me to the emergency room where they gave me a tight bandage instead of stitches (although stitches would have been better because the bandage came off within a day). I still have a slight scar on my finger if you look close enough.

The moral of the story? Don't use your hubby's pocketknife on a wobbly cardboard box late at night. He still is quite reluctant to hand me a knife even though it's been years since the incident.

Badge earned with the scar to prove it.

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