When did knitting become to fiber craft as a Frisbee is to flying disks, or Kleenex is to tissues? No one says, “Hey, let’s go throw our flying disk around the park!” But knitting, and knitting terms, seems to have become the generic standard for any article made with yarn.

The most common conversation I have when someone sees one of my projects (mind you, this is after they get shocked look off their face like they just saw Susan Boyle sing for the first time):

Them: That is so cool. I didn’t know you could knit.

Me: I can’t knit. I crochet.

Them: I never could get the hang on those needles.

Me: Neither could I. That’s why I don’t use needles. I use hooks. I crochet.

Them: I would love you to knit me something.

Me: No.

This hibernating thought process of mine was awakened this morning when I read an article about a very loving and patient mother that is crocheting a giant structure for her son’s exhibit in an art gallery (someone else can borrow my soapbox for sons taking advantage of mothers) and the first sentence of the article reads, “What do you do with a broken crochet needle and a manic mother?” Well, first you need to FIND a crochet needle. It’s a hook. A crochet HOOK! By the by, you never do find out a) why it was broken and 2) what to do with one. You can find the two-sentence article here.

My beanie goes off to people like Sharon Devol who took the time to write The Signal of Santa Clarita Valley and correct them when their investigative reporter forgot to investigate. She writes:

            “I enjoyed reading the article in The Signal’s Senor Living section…’Knit together with love.’ While the title emphasis of the article focused on ladies who knit…both photos and the story were of ladies who were crocheting.” (full article)

I think we crocheters developed our militant nature by situations like these, and is one of the main reasons why Crochet Propaganda was born.