Of Wool And Wort

My wife recently celebrated her birthday and immediately took up knitting. 

I really thought I had another 30 years before the mandatory knitting clause in our marriage kicked in.

The truth is, I can’t make fun of knitting.

I mean, I could.  It would be ridiculously easy.  Easier than learning to knit.

But I can’t, because knitting is exactly like homebrewing.

I know, that surprised me, too.  Ever try drinking a wool sweater?

Well, my wife started out very simply, just some yarn (apparently, it’s called a skein, which sounds like something you should see your doctor about) and two sticks.  (They’re called “needles,” but don’t be fooled; they’re not.)  She figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to learn the basics, considering how many books have been written, or the number of websites dedicated to knitting (and not one of them is Pinterest, which I still can’t believe), plus Youtube videos, and the ever-helpful experts at yarn stores.  

So, how easy was it?

As easy as learning to make beer, which is to say, pretty easy, until it dawns on you that you have no idea what you’re doing and no one actually wants to help you learn.

The problem, it seemed, was that nothing was geared toward teaching the beginner anything beyond the very basics.  For example, one book on knitting actually contained the following: on the first page, it nicely listed and illustrated most of the essential knitting equipment, a quick glossary of common terms, and some other genuinely useful information.  On the very next page were detailed technical instructions on how to design a sweater.

Couldn’t start off with a decent scarf pattern, could you?

And as for the helpful online videos, I watched a couple with her, and they all reminded me of a Staples commercial.  Some woman performed a sleight of hand magic trick with yarn while saying, "Isn't this easy?" over and over again.

And when she went to the local yarn store, the incredibly unhelpful woman (always women in yarn stores, for some reason) seemed to make of point of making her feel like a complete idiot.

But my wife bravely soldiered on, figuring out how to “cast on” (sounds like a leisurely afternoon spent on a lake with a fishing pole, but it’s not), learning a simple stitch, and producing a scarf.  And what did she get for her hard work?  People helpfully telling her she should have used different yarn.

You know, that might have been more helpful at some early point in the process, like when she was buying the freakin’ yarn!

But it turned out to be an adorable scarf, which my daughter loves, and as a bonus my wife made a matching scarf for her doll, Molly.

And she made it herself, and feels rightly proud of my work.  And will rightly punch anyone in the face who criticizes it.

And who wouldn't be excited by a RAINBOW scarf?

Which reminds me of learning to brew, of buying a basic kit and picking up my first how-to book.  The kit made it seem pretty easy: mix some stuff in here, let it sit for a week, bottle and enjoy.  Which explains why my first batch was so terrible.  The how-to book (and almost every book I've read thereafter) started off explaining how to brew from just simple extracts, but then, on the very next page, explained that nobody but the most incompetent brewers used extracts and I should start by bringing my 6 gallon mash kettle up to 150 degrees.  

(To which I thought: What’s a mash kettle?)

I made my first trip to a homebrew store and the guy there (always a guy in the homebrew store, for some reason) started asking if I needed things I’d never even heard of, like wort chillers and carboys.  What’s a carboy?  I just want to make a beer!  What strain of yeast do I want?  How the hell should I know?

So here we have knitters and homebrews, cousins in insanely steep learning curves.  In both cases, you have a hobby, something meant to be relaxing, fun, a chance to meet people with similar interests to you, made absolutely obtuse and frustrating by what can only be described as a willful attempt to PREVENT newcomers from getting any kind of useful information.  I can only conclude that this is some conspiracy to keep people from actually becoming knitters/homebrewers.  

What the hell?

Not pictured: Anything helpful.

Guess what?  This is not the 18^th century, anymore.  Knitting and homebrewing are not necessary to the functioning of our society.  Nor is there any need for secretive guilds to protect the hidden knowledge of our ancestors.  Seriously, this is the 21^st century. I can go buy a sweater made by a machine for a tenth of the cost of just the yarn it will take a knit one, and I can buy a six-pack of beer fermented in a vat bigger than my house in most gas stations for under 10 bucks.

I homebrew because I enjoy it.  No thanks to the secretive gatekeepers who tried to hide their knowledge from me.  Was it some kind of test, to see if I was good enough to be considered a real homebrewer?  To see if I could get my malt to convert starch into sugar?

Who cares?  This is supposed to be relaxing!

Which is why my wife and I are going to open a knitting and homebrewing store, geared specifically toward novices and beginners.  

I’m thinking of calling it the “We’re Not Assholes Emporium.”