The Agricultural Society Hall on Mayne Island is full--with art on the walls and people in chairs and, at the back of the hall, on benches. It's a night of entertainment--music and author readings.
Knitters in handknitted garments sit in the front row. Carrying a small wooden box, I walk to the front of the hall. The knitters pull out their knitting needles and balls of yarn. I face the audience and pluck the box on the floor. Needles click. I pull a piece of paper out of a pocket, step onto the box and begin to read...
Click
Time was we were safe. Sure there was an underground movement, but they were unorganized and weak. The movement attracted only the socially undesirable. We could sleep at night knowing that our loved ones were safe.
Click, click, click
Those days are gone.
Click, click, click
Listen do you hear it? They are becoming stronger.
Click, click, click
They are becoming organized
Click, click, click
Young-old, male-female, no one is safe.
Click, click, click
How can we stop this madness?
Click, click, click
We must boycott certain stores
Click, click, click
We must protest certain meetings
Click, click, click
We must burn certain publications
Click, click, click
We must ban certain websites
Click, click, click
We must ostracize those associated with the movement. It is the only way.
Click, click, click
Guard your loved ones
Click, click, click
Keep them safe
Click, click, click
We must be aware
Click, click, click
We must be alert
Click, click, click
Don't let the knitters win!
The knitters stand collectively and charge toward me. I retreated as they sing.
The weather outside is delightful
But, my dear, you're rather frightful
As long as we love it so
Let us knit, let us knit, let us knit
The operetta was short, but oh so sweet. It's one of my favourite knitting group memories.
Rewritten on February 26, 2021
