Written by Reddon
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Friday, 11 February 2011

image for Knitting - there is no easy way
Some sheep - soon to become sweaters and Rogan Josh curry.

A government think-tank comprising of esteemed scientists, mathematicians, statisticians and four elderly ladies, yesterday concluded that there is no easy way to approach the almost forgotten art of knitting.

"Knitting is an incredibly complex process," Professor Dai Dindawull of Newport College told the press. "You have to have wool, and knitting needles of various sizes, and a knitting pattern - a sort of shoddy looking pamphlet type of thing printed in heiroglyphics. What the knitter is attempting to do, is to effectively convert a piece of twine into a sweater, or some baby clothes, with a big pair of needles. Sometimes three needles. It blew me away, I don't mind saying. It's awfully complicated."

It is widely believed among the scientific community that knitting originated in ancient Mesopotamia, rapidly developing after the discovery of wool. (Which is what jumpers are made of.)

The think-tank didn't even bother exploring the discovery of wool, on the grounds that whatever inspired somebody to shear a sheep and extrude the fleece into what we know nowadays as wool, is just a little bit too mad for people to get their heads round.

The bottom line is that there is no easy way to knit badly fitting jumpers in lurid colours, or baby outfits that make infants look like a pile of discarded rags in the corner of a Rangoon sweatshop.

"You have to learn how to knit," one of the elderly ladies remarked. "Took me ages it did. Where's the refreshments, then? Do they have ginger biscuits? Ooh! I need a wee..."

Knitting was notably prevalent in Britain in the 1960s and 70s, when wearing a jumper the size of a saggy marquee tent was considered de rigeur among the fashionistas, and everybody's nan had blue hair.

Few people are likely to bemoan its slump in popularity.

"I don't knit any more," another old lady revealed. "It's not worth the bother. Leave it to the Chinese, I say. I get my badly fitting lurid woollens from Asda these days. It's much more economical, and it leaves me with more time to surf internet porn."

And then, tea and biscuits were served. (Not ginger biscuits - bourbon biscuits. Beggars can't be choosers.)

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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