I have a problem. It’s called the bus. Yeah, I know I could just drive and be another single-occupant vehicle on the highway, but I just don’t trust myself to knit and drive at the same time. (Baha, just kidding! Of course I can. HAHA, just kidding again.)
But all lame-jokes-you’ve-never-heard-before aside, I do prefer to just relax to some jams or my favourite podcast, and just knit the commute away. I can have a hot coffee, cozy-up, and tune-out. All simple pleasures in this #momlife. It’s not all fun and purls though! Let’s take a closer look:
- People problems: I don’t need much space to knit, and of course, I’ll always to my best to keep everything contained in my little corner. But the countless people-related distractions are the worst, whether or not you knit. Like the food. For heaven’s sake, don’t eat that shawarma on the bus you fool!
Or sometimes I’m just waiting for that bowl of cereal with milk to go flying on the next sharp curve. One time a lady used her earring to pick her teeth (ew). There’s another person in front of me who decided to use an entire bottle of perfume that morning. Some guy listens to beatz at max volume through his earbuds. Then there’s the make-up appliers, the hair brushers, and the nail clippers. All these distractions! I mean, I’m just a person with some elbows and pointy sticks trying to share your space. Sheesh! #judgy
- The actual bus: I don’t refer to it as “the bus”. I prefer to call it “needle stealer” or “ball thrower”. Actually I don’t, but we can pretend! Especially when knitting socks, a dropped needle is truly gone forever it seems.
I’ve written it off. It’s either fallen in the deepest crevice, too far for human fingers to reach. Or it’s fallen to the floor, where once dropped, has been swallowed-up by a disgusting black hole. Only once did I swallow my pride and crawl under a seat, and only because it was my Knitters Pride Karbonz, and I reaaaaaaaaally wanted to close my toe on the way home. That, and I’m cheap. Not sure if you’ve dropped a ball on the floor before, but that’s a real treat. It certainly helps reinforce the idea that knitting is a completely acceptable practice on the bus.
- Other crafters: Actually, I lied. There is no problem. I’ve met some pretty cool folks into fiber arts and needlecraft who’ve had some interesting things to share. One lovely woman clued me to a knitting group in my area that I’m planning on checking out. (She’s currently crocheting a Star Wars death star! She has my vote.) Someone else showed me their needlepoint and we happily shared the space, elbows and all. I sometimes see the odd person knitting as well, and then it’s a secret competition to see who’s knitting the fastest. It’s so secret, they probably don’t even know it’s a race. That’s how I guarantee a win, hehe. Crafters unite, and let every day be Knit in Public Day.
Let me tell you a little story. It starts with the bus and my knitting.
On this occasion, I didn’t have a pair of socks on the go (that was my first mistake) so in a rush I grabbed my 28thirty WIP sweater and headed out the door. I grudgingly accepted a seat in the worst location, being the back of the lower floor on a double-decker. Those seats are terrible. You are forced to sit face-to-face with strangers with your legs intertwined, and if you need to get out, you can either make someone move or grope them on the way out. But I was determined to enjoy my commute. I figured I had juuuust enough personal space so as not to be a bother, and pulled-out my sweater.
I was very excited about my fiber choice, being the now-discontinued Fleece Artist River in Peridot.
I didn’t mean to, buuuut…..I forgot about the Alpaca. I could not have paid it to shed more. And the gentle breeze from an open window started to circulate all these soft green and grey hairs through the air, into the laps and faces and outfits of the other commuters. Sigh. I had become one of *those* people. The problem people. I was what people problems are made of. So I knit five stitches and promptly put it away, never to see the light of the bus again. The next day I made sure I had socks.
Well, rant over. There you have it. The bus. Can’t live with it, can’t find an alternate route of transportation in Ottawa. See you on the 38!
Check out some of my #busknits on Instagram.