Sunday, I was sitting in the lovely lobby at the SF MOMA waiting for my family members to finish salivating over the Calder exhibit there. (I'm allergic to modern art, unlike the rest of them.) Of course while waiting, I was knitting, and a little girl peered at me around the corner of the round bench we were both sitting on. She was about four. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Knitting!" I said.
"What is it?"
"A scarf." (That's usually the answer.) She fondled the folds of the ribbing.
"I don't know how to knit."
"When you're a little older, you can learn," I said.
"I do know how to make a pillow," she said proudly. "I even got to hold the needle."
Mom appeared then, and we chatted a moment, and I found that, once again, knitting was a sort of ambassador.
Recently, it was knitting on the subway in NYC, apparently an unusual activity, that got me TONS of stares and a few questions or comments as someone was headed out the door. Careful! Might have a conversation with a stranger! But no matter, it was still fun, and kept me from being bored on the No. 1 to Columbia. :^)