A Bluestocking Knits

Heidi‘s not-so-secret-anymore mention of genealogy got me thinking about how similar genealogy and knitting can be to the passionate.

I’m not sure that you can really blog about genealogy, as the day-to-day business of it might be a little, well, dull to read about — the results can be fascinating even to the unrelated reader, but the progress is more solitary, more intellectual than knitting.  The genealogist can certainly post results on the internet though, and have lots of people from all over the country read it.  (Mine are here at RootsWeb.)

Having said that the day-to-day business of genealogy might be dull to others, it can certainly help to break down a "brick wall" by having others look at your problem, in the same way that posting a photo of your knitting project can get you feedback and advice. 

You can knit while you wait for your turn at the microfiche reader, and you can look up census returns online at Ancestry.com while you wait for your freshly-blocked cardigan to dry.

Very little equipment is really necessary to knit or to do genealogy, but it sure manages to accumulate pretty fast.  ("Honey, do you really need another pattern book/Swedish genealogy manual/magnifying glass/set of rosewood circulars?")  Supplies are another matter — you always need more yarn, you always need more paper or computer memory, and storage space for all of these!

A research trip to the Family History Library in Salt Lake City is for the genealogist the equivalent of the knitter’s pilgrimage to Rowan in Holmfirth or Meg Swansen in Wisconsin.

Coming across a photograph of your great-great-grandmother in a knitted shawl would make you delirious with joy.

The feel and smell of a century-old letter can thrill you just as much as the softness of a fine alpaca fingering-weight against your cheek.

Finding a way to organize and index your collection of vital records can be just as tedious and satisfying as organizing your knitting patterns.  You can also write your own software for either.

A knitter will sit with a Norwegian dictionary and translate word-by-word a pattern for a lusekøfte as willingly as a genealogist will translate 19th-century christening records from Lillehammer.

You can bond with a family member by knitting together or by researching the same family line.

Ripping out weeks of work on a lace pattern is as frustrating as losing a folder of notes from that library visit.

Waiting for the UPS man to bring your backordered Koigu keeps you on tenterhooks exactly the same way as does waiting for the mailman to bring those death certificates from the Pennsylvania Department of Records.

People who just aren’t interested in knitting or genealogy have no clue why you get such a kick out of the littlest things.