Knit Night

I was looking forward to it far more than I wanted to admit. The first Knit Night at the Geek Bar.

The Geek Bar is a new pub on the west end of Duckworth Street in downtown St. John’s –  formerly (still?) known as the Rock House Pub. It’s a space for sci-fi enthusiasts, board game aficionados and avid crafters. If you are going to drink a pint and knit at the same time, this is the place to do it.

The excellent Katie Garibaldi, owner of Cast On Cast Off, organized it all as a way to celebrate her knitting shop’s new location, on the third floor of the Posie Row shopping complex further east on Duckworth.

She even had limited edition Cast On Cast Off beer glasses made for the occasion!

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The evening started early – at 6:30 p.m. My friend Sheila and I were dropped down there a few minutes early, knitting bags in hand. There was a lineup outside. In the rain.

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We joined the queue, and joked about the bad old days when we’d be standing out in the rain one street below us – on George Street – to get into a dance club or to see a band.

The doors were unlocked promptly at 6:30 and a bar staffer wearing a Stormtrooper helmet welcomed us in.

All the available seating was quickly filled by knitters and a few rogue crocheters.

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Projects on the go ranged from the big (a crocheted afghan) to the small (a figure of Eleven, the character from Stranger Things).

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There were some notable members of the St. John’s knitterati there, and lots of other people I’d never met before. Mostly women, and a few brave men. Sheila and I shared our table with an archaeology student from Ontario and one of Sheila’s former elementary school students. It was cool to meet younger knitters.

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There are a few knitting groups that meet around town, but this was, by far, the largest group of knitters I have seen assemble in St. John’s. Also the most diverse, in terms of people, projects and levels of ability.

All hands agreed that this Knit Night was a hit – and many of us suggested to Katie that she make this a regular thing. As many of us knit mostly at home, it’s a good way to get out of the house and still scratch that woolly itch.  

As Shirl the Purl said when we said our goodbyes at the end of the evening,  “May the knit be with you!”

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Craft Sale

You’d think with my obsessive knitting, I’d have a shop full of stock by now.

However, since I hold down a full time job and I live in a house with other people, I have plenty of distractions to keep me from knitting around the clock.

At this point, I make enough socks, mitts, and other assorted woolly things to keep everyone in my life in homemade gifts, with a small surplus left over.

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There was enough surplus this year to bring a small selection of knitted goods to a staff  craft fair at my office.

We had a lovely selection of things on sale. Hand painted greeting cards, Christmas ornaments, jewelry, maple table centrepieces, and lots of baked goods. I work with a talented and crafty bunch of people.

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It was a bit of a strange experience, watching shoppers  – my friends – browse through the wares. I found myself hoping they would select one of my things to purchase. It was surprisingly stressful.

It also gave me some insight into my own twacking/window shopping habits at craft fairs. I’m notorious for browsing, examining, then moving on to the next table, and the next. Until our little staff event, I didn’t realise that a browsing but non-committal customer can feel like a small hope dashed; a micro-judgment on your creations.  

After a couple of days, like all the others who took part in the craft fair, I made a reasonable number of sales. Through additional word of mouth, I am working on a few more pairs of socks, for later seasonal shoppers. So in the end, it all worked out.

From now on, I’m going to try to be less of a window shopper and more of a buyer when I’m oohing and aahing over locally made items.

The experience also makes me realise that I’m not a natural entrepreneur. I’m used to work diligently for a reasonable and predictable salary.  

Deep down inside, I likely have the heart of a civil servant.