Everyone has their limits.
For example, some folks swear that they can’t knit drunk, whereas I’ll happily plod away at colourwork whilst sipping Chablis. However I do know from bitter experience that I can’t work complex lace whilst angry. (I was debating with a member of my extended family about a subject that was dear to my feminist principles. Afterwards, precisely nobody was converted to the other’s viewpoint and the entire collar of my jumper needed frogging and re-knitting. Sigh. Lesson learned.) And as of a few nights ago, I do also know that I can’t take decent photos of knitting in darkened pubs after drinking half a bottle of wine. So, what was – in my inebriated imagination – going to be a sophisticated gallery of works-in-progress at Knit Night, is actually a wobbly assemblage of drunken blur. Sorry.
So yes, it was Knitting-And-Crochet-Night, and once the twinnage were in bed, I hurried over the road to the pub (because I still haven’t discovered the entrance to the ancient tunnel that allegedly joins the cellar of our ex-brewery home to the pub’s basement). Sometimes the group is largish, sometimes it’s smallish, and sometimes we don’t meet at all. On this occasion, there were only two of us, but that was fine. Would you like to see the gorgeous entrelac hat my friend was working on? Don’t worry, I got her permission to do this:-
Isn’t it beautiful, especially in those shimmery jewel-like tones?
Anyway, on this particular occasion, there was also… another knitting group in the pub, seated around a table on the opposite side of the room. We tried not to look as though we were looking at them. We’d heard rumours of this other group, you see, and so we knew they’d pitch up some time. (Why is writing these words giving me images of a stand-off in the Wild West?)
We were surrounded and outnumbered, and we knew it. Sources had informed us that they were members of the Women’s Institute. (I realize that most people reading this aren’t in the UK, so I should explain that members of the WI do good works for charity and also take their clothes off.) On this occasion, they were all knitting Twiddlemuffs.
So.
We saw them. They saw us. We knitted. They knitted. We drank. They drank.
And d’you know what the most blimmin’ irksome thing was??!
The most frustrating thing was that when the enormous yarn-gulf across the room was eventually breached and the two groups began to talk to each other, the WI posse turned out to be thoroughly lovely, fun people. DO YOU REALIZE HOW HARD IT’S GOING TO BE TO MAKE A DECENTLY AMUSING ANECDOTE OUT OF THAT?! So I can’t even tell you any stories about knitting needles being brandished in a menacing manner. And nobody tipped Eucalan in anyone else’s drink. Not a single clothes-moth was sneakily concealed in anyone’s project bag, and not a soul haughtily denounced a rival’s yarn as ‘uncommonly scratchy’. There were not even any snide mutterings about how people who use straights/circulars (delete as appropriate) are mad/bad/dangerous-to-know (delete as appropriate), despite the fact that the WI posse were all on straights, and we were both on circulars.
See? Very pleasant evening. TOTAL FRICKIN’ DISASTER on the anecdote front. We came, we saw, we chatted. And whilst we didn’t quite get as far as merging, I hope we’ll run into them again.
Oh, and in case you want to see what I was knitting, it’s here. I couldn’t bring the crochet cauliflowers to the pub, so I got on with some work on designing this bag. Fairisle mitred corners in-the-round, I’ll have you know:-
I can’t believe the WI Krew came in YOUR local pub, if that’s not looking for trouble then I don’t know what it is…
It s like the opposite football team turning up at Millwall local pub for wool sake! I think you were very kind to even put your eyes on them and not slash their tyres on the car park! 😀
I know. Things could have got messy. To be fair to them, it’s been their manor for longer than it’s been ours. So I guess we should be grateful that they tolerated us…
I have followed your example and attempted knitting some fair isle while drinking a couple of beers… Well I think I have invented a new way of knitting 😀 very radical and experimental and quite liberating… It looks very unusual too, like… Fair isle tangle??
I really quite like the image of two separate knitting groups in a pub. Do men go to this pub, too? And what to do they think of the knitting? Do they whittle or engage in some other manly activity?
There are a few men who sit in the same places every night, staring into their pints. What they think of chatty knitters is hard to determine. What they think of ANYTHING is hard to determine, because they rarely speak.
PS: to add to your definition, the Darth WI Krew are just a bunch of wallies (woollies?) who meet up in dusty church halls to plot evil plans on how they are going to infiltrate and outnumber already establish groups… They want to control them to form a WI empire, beware!!!!
Yikes!!!!
I wonder what the landlord/lady made of this knitting invasion? Crochet cauliflowers?! xx
They seem quite tolerant. And they’ve probably noticed that we’re quite enthusiastic drinkers, too, so at least we earn our place at the bar.
This made me chuckle on my lunch break 🙂 thanks
You’re welcome! Glad to be of service. 🙂
Love those colors ….. can’t wait to see the whole thing!
It’s getting there……
I just love the tale of the rivalry that was not 🙂 you all sure have fun while knitting … Beautiful intricate work, I need to start applying it in my crochet work.. :-$
Yes, there’s so much scope for intricacy in crochet, too. Enjoy. 🙂
I am just jealous. I also want a pub where I can have a drink and crochet all night long.
Corine
x
Maybe not all night long. They throw us and our needles out at around 11pm. But yes, every village/neighbourhood should have such an institution.
I believe the WI were *invented* in Canada in the very late 1800s, and then spread around the world. I do think Britain has kept the tradition up more than other countries. Don’t let them convince you to knit dishcloths. You’ll end up in a downward spiral.
Ah, thank you. I’m afraid my knowledge of their history was minimal, to say the least. Interesting. Thanks.
I love this story, the suspense, the anti-climax! 😉
Yes it was a bit of a disappointment. Sigh. I’ll have to go and find someone else to try and fall out with… Everyone round here is too flippin’ reasonable.
Speaking as a member of said W.I. and said W.I knitting group ( when I get around to going! ) ” Get across the room and get your feet tucked under our table!”
I didn’t feel “old enough ” to join W.I. until I was about 50 but when I did I realised what I’d been missing. These women are power houses! They move mountains and lobby government. They are also very nice people. Harwell W.I were out celebrating 100 years today. Sadly I was working. Majority of Members are retired. I’m the baby! Ha ha. That is until I get Phil to join!!!!???!!!
Ha ha, hope to see you there next time! And yes, I realize my description was rather flippant, but I know they also do some pretty amazing things.
I adore your description of potential knit-ralated sabotage! Fabulous.
Such a pity that they turned out to be lovely people!
I love it, Drunk knitting and new friends. what more could you want
Exactly. I can think of worse ways to spend an evening.
Your pub looks brightly lit. Was that your flash? Glad you like the WI ladies.
A mixture of flash and some sneaky lightening using PicMonkey because I wanted my friend’s entrelac to show up properly. It was actually pretty dim in there.
I figured. Wondered if something had turned British pubs into wine bars since I was last there…
(As you’d expect in any self-respecting pub!)
your blog posts never fail to disappoint, I always cheer up when I see one in my feed. Also, I’ very jealous, alleged secret tunnel, 2 knitting groups in your local pub, and the ability to do mitred fair isle corners (I didn’t even know that was a thing).
Well thank you! Happy to be of service. (I fear that there’s no truth in the tunnel rumour, though.)
So (dare I say it), a meeting of like minds? Amazing knitting you’re both doing.
I fear so. And thank you.
Loving the fairisle mitred squares in the round, sounds intriging.
It’s nearly done……. nearly……….