My partner, our 6yo son, and I went to the wine bar last night to meet with other knitters. Attendees displayed all sorts of amazing things they had created--everything from a hat made from homespun and a bracelet knitted with wire to a delicate lace pillowcover and a beautiful tote bag. David took his latest project, a little vest for the bear he knit last week. My son showed off the beginnings of a multicolored shawl he is knitting for the same bear.
Although Son announced over dinner that he was not sure he wanted to go to the meeting, he was proud to be taken seriously by the other knitters there. When we went around the room, he held up his shawl and explained how to do yarn-overs to make a triangle shape. I think the fact that the folks there treated him about as seriously as they treated me made him quite proud.
Although he said several time that he was having a good time and wanted to stay, Son just does not have the stamina to knit more than a couple of short rows before he runs around a bit, sings Gilbert and Sullivan tunes, or tries to convince his father to play a game with him. The two of them wound up moving to a nearby table to play Duo.
I loved meeting the experienced knitters and look forward to getting to know them better over time--but I struggled the whole time with my hearing. I thought I would have more troubles because of my shyness.... When I realized how much more David got out of the conversation than I did (despite the fact that he was sitting at the neighboring table), it made me sad. I've lived with this hearing loss for a long time now and usually don't feel particularly hampered by it. I have lots of coping mechanisms, and I've learned to appreciate my ability to turn my deaf ear to the world while I sleep. But sometimes I'm reminded of how much hearing loss affects my ability to enjoy social events with more than a few people. The local knitters meeting next week is on the bottom floor of a quiet cafe. Perhaps things will be easier for me there.