Knitting Sounds

knit knit knit purl. knit knit knit purl yarnaround.

knit knit knit purl. knit.two.together. knit knit knit purl.

Knitting needles are supposed to “click.” That’s always in novels, about how some character’s needles “clicked.” Miss Marple, Madame Defarge, it doesn’t matter whether she’s a spinster detective or the secret record keeper of a revolutionary outrage. If there’s a woman knitting in a book, her needles click.

            My needles don’t click unless I make them.

            Of their own accord, my needles don’t make any sound at all except when I cuss.

            The only sound of knitting is in my head, and it goes knit knit knit purl. knit knit knit purl yarnaround. knit knit knit purl. knit.two.together. knit knit knit purl. Of course not always those stitches in that order. Now yarn, it makes a sound, especially when the ball is wound a little too tight. “Fuuuuurze” is the sound it makes until enough yarn has been pulled out to loosen the ball a little bit. It’s that sound that can make your teeth tingle if you listen too close. So I try not to listen.

            Knitting is silent, and isn’t that the point? The sounds are around you. There’s the occasional car passing out on the highway, going too fast, even the ones just doing the speed limit. That shepherd mutt in the next block, barking, bored and angry on its chain in the dust. In the summertime the cicadas yelling at the whole world, angry as hell, they’re not sure about what, but they’re damn sure going to tell us all about it. (Anybody ever nominate a cicada for political office? They’d fit right in and be about as much use.) The sounds are around you, but when you’re knitting, you don’t have to listen. The inner sounds are the ones that matter.

knit knit knit purl. knit knit knit purl yarnaround.

knit knit knit purl. knit.two.together. knit knit knit purl.