Due to the idiosyncrasies of our craft, Knitters have some unusual things in common with random groups of people. For example: Knitters have in common with computer engineers that their stitches – knit & purl in various combinations – is more or less programming in assembly, and Knitters are at least as likely as computer engineers to get carpal tunnel.
Another example: a highly prized tool of serious Knitters is a very sensitive scale – more sensitive than a postal scale – for measuring precise amounts of yarn for estimating yardage and what have you. This can, however, be problematic, as the only other people who have use for such an appliance are pharmacists and drug dealers.
I discovered a new such commonality yesterday morning. Apparently, part of applying to a seminary is to get a full background check, and part of getting a full background check is getting fingerprinted. So me and my husband and my sock showed up at the Maryland State Police on Thursday morning, feeling intimidated.
My intimidation was, of course, unnecessary; all of Maryland’s finest were very polite and didn’t make me feel like a suspect. (Not like I have reason to feel that way… it’s just a going-to-the-principal’s-office thing. Though I don’t know where I got that compunction, as I’ve always been homeschooled.)
Anyway, the nice elderly volunteer chap who fingerprinted me asked me if I was a pianist.
Me: No. Why? Are my fingerprints different?
Chap: They’re indistinct.
Me: Oh. Well, I’m a knitter!
I don’t think he knew what to do with that statement.
So, as a knitter, I now have something in common with computer programmers, drug dealers, and… pianists.
My finished Hat-heel socks with my indistinct, knitterly fingerprints.