I've feared this disease for quite some time, about as long as I've been knitting, in fact. Denial, bargaining, natural alternatives- none of it has seemed to help. The simple fact is this- I have yarnsnobery.
As I reflect back on life, I can't help but think that I was destined to knit. It wasn't as if someone grabbed my hands and forced the needles in to them (although I've had drunken men do just that with their own personal needle). Rather, it was something of an organic process that just seemed to flow- or a cruel trick by Big Brother to pry the money from my hands and place it into my local yarn shop.
As my knitting career began, I spent evening after evening knitting my garter stitch scarfs. I was in love- with knitting. While my personal life lacked luster, this simple new hobby filled my soul. My friends didn't seem to think this was enough, however. They thought I needed something that involved a little more... sex.
So I'm thinking about creating some fictional caricatures of myself and other knitters for use in my blog (knittingman.wordpress.com). I've got two in mind already.
Knitting is supremely meditative, a transcendent experience opening one’s soul to the magic of the universe, a creative act that directs the heart to the soil one knits above and the heavens that reach to the infinite beyond. And it requires some swearing.