This lady is gazing upon the tranquil little village of Dent in Cumbria, a place infamously known for the "terrible knitters of Dent"- the word terrible used in the sense of fearsome. During the early 1800s the denizens of Dent, both young and old, sat outdoors in chairs up and down every street, knitting, knitting, knitting from dawn till dusk. 

   The clicking and clacking of these noisy needles became so wearisome the local vicar was forced to stop mid-sermon and beg his parishioners to put the godforsaken instruments away. Whether they did or didn’t I do not know. I wasn’t there. The knitting industry has died out in Dent, however, so do not fear to visit; it is a quiet little town with no scary yarn to be found. (image sipotd.wordpress.com/category/yorkshire-dales/)

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