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‘I’m a published writer!’ The shriek echoes through our house.

No, I haven’t got a book contract with Penguin or Knopf Doubleday – or anyone else for that matter. I am very excited because my blog article ‘I don’t knit!‘ (re-titled ‘Crochet by any other name‘), has been published in Passionate Hookers, a magazine-book put out by Brascoe Publishing.

‘Big deal!’ one might say. ‘If a 350-word reminiscence is what you call published, I was published by my high-school newsletter twenty years ago.’

Highly likely, but bear with me. I have never before been published anywhere, and neither of my high-schools ran to newsletters. There is something extremely seductive (I am getting into the swing of things here) in seeing one’s fallible words in beautifully typeset print. Even more alluringly, this publication has an ISBN! But, most of all, it is immensely satisfying to see an article about a TCK experience make it into a non-TCK publication.

This ‘mook’ is a pleasure to read, with contributions by some creative people with remarkable achievements. Well done Brascoe Books!

Now I just have to land that Harlequin contract for my romance novel.

I’ll leave it to you to work out what Passionate Hookers is all about. It is quite affordable (AUD 16.50), and can be ordered online at Brascoe Publishing. You can also get a sneak preview at Brascoe Publishing’s web-site http://www.brascoebooks.com.au/. You will need a flash player – most browsers should be equipped with one by default.

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Edit: This article has been re-titled ‘Crochet by any other name’ and published in Passionate Hookers, by Brascoe Publishing.

Moving half-way across the world can be daunting. People look different. They act differently. And they use words in unfamiliar ways.

It was time for our domestic science class. ‘We are going to knit,’ said the teacher, in her African-accented English.

She pointed at me. ‘Do you know how to knit?’

I shook my head. ‘But I can crochet.’

She looked blank. The other girls giggled. They had already established that I didn’t wear head-scarves, didn’t clean my teeth with freshly cut sticks from the bush, and couldn’t balance loads on my head like African girls. And they appeared uninterested in my books and games.

‘I will show you how to knit,’ said the teacher.

She handed round bright balls of wool from her bag. Then she took out the needles. They were shiny, thin, and………… hooked at the end.

I sat dumb.

She showed me how to hold one. I made my hand stiff so she wouldn’t suspect the truth.

She helped me make a starting knot, and then loop, pick-up, loop, pick-up – a chain stitch.

‘Do I hold it like this, or like this?’

‘Like this. Now you take this loop back here.’

She showed me how to do a double-crochet row, then a treble-crochet row. All the while I asked questions that I thought a beginner would ask, and she answered in her halting English.

‘See! You can knit!’

Next week, for domestic science class, we were ‘knitting’ again. The girls were amazed at my sudden proficiency. I had decided to confess.

‘You learn quickly,’ said Laraba.

I tried to explain. ‘We call this ‘crochet’. Knitting, for us, is with two needles. So at first, I didn’t know what the teacher meant. Then, I didn’t know what to say.’

Laraba looked at me strangely. Perhaps she couldn’t understand what had driven me to tell my little lie. Perhaps she didn’t get how knitting could be crochet.

It didn’t matter. I was ‘knitting’ along with the rest of them, and it was pure pleasure.

Don’t know what on earth this post is about? The page “What is the difference between knit and crochet” from WiseGeek may help clear things up.