“You are going to knit what?” The Dude raised his eyebrows and raised his tone a little when I informed him of my latest knitting endeavour a couple of nights ago.
“A dishcloth. You know one of things that you can use to wipe down the tables or scrub pots.” I replied.
“Why?” came the quick response, “You can get a bunch from IKEA for fifty cents a piece!”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, needles clicking furiously in my hands, “I can’t explain it, it’s a strong calling – maybe its some rite of knitting passage, after the scarfs and hats, it’s the dishcloths!”
“Look! Look!” I exclaimed to The Dude when he walked through the door his evening, “All done! How quick was that!”
“Mmmmm…” was the response which in dudespeak translates to a form of approval. “Not bad, very cool pattern!”
“Are you going to make a few more?”
“I’ll think about it- ask me again after dinner!”