Sometimes we all need the reminder that we are not normal...
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Last Thursday, G and I went to a dinner for a few people from his work. Good people, fun to be around, easy to talk to... Dinner was great - his boss cooked - and he's a great cook! And inevitably people chatted as people will at this sort of function.
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One of the women mentioned that she'd been invited to an SnB in town. Of course my ears perk up at the mention of knitting. She was surprised I didn't go to this group as she knows I love knitting. If I'd been paying attention, I'd have noticed that a few of the other women were confused. The conversation continues. I told her I hadn't heard of the group she'd mentioned, although a number of friends and I will frequently get together over coffee and knit. We talk a bit more about the number of dishcloths she cranks out (she's a dishcloth knitter only). I mention a few projects on my needles...
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Finally I notice the slightly blank look of confusion and to clarify, I say:
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"I knit..."
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Their faces indicate its not quite clear enough so I add:
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"... obsessively"
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It's a wonder my hubby takes me anywhere.
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