Crafty Ladies

Last night my lady friends all gathered for the second installment of craft night. We sat, we knitted, we sewed, we talked politics. Here's K working on a new (appropriately sized) hat:

There were some minor sewing machine entanglements, but these were greatly overshadowed by the great conversation, spiced popcorn, and hard cider. Yum.

And then there was all the wedding talk. Two of the ladies are getting wedded this year (not to each other), and each week there is some new development in the dress, family, dinner, or ceremony department. This week L brought over one of those wedding magazines designed to make most women feel fat, poor, and unhappy: lots of models draped over furniture, sporting come-hither looks and the most expensive, ornate dresses I have ever seen. Not for me, thanks. When my day comes, I will be visiting my good friends at Anthropologie and purchasing that $600 dress whose purchase could not be otherwise justified, a dress that I absolutely love and will wear again and which will (most likely) not be white. And will not (definitely not) have sequins, poufs, or some crazy long train. I think wedding photos look strange with all that white.

(UPDATE: Upon further reflection, I don't detest the white-dress thing. Just big, poufy, taffeta-flounced white dresses, and especially $2,000 white dresses. So white is all right, as they say.)

Anyway, last night K made some valentines hearts for fun and for sending. I will sign off with a photo of one, to curb the quite audible grumbles from the previous paragraph. Happy Friday.

About that snow...

Last night it snowed. A lot. At least six inches. Here is J shoveling our front steps. He is so good.


And here is the excellent work he made of the back yard so we could go out for coffee and scones this morning.



I was glad that my lady friends still made it over here yesterday for the first ever craft night. They braved the elements, steered their little cars through snowy streets to come drink wine and play with yarn. Our man friends got together over beers and acted like men, only to return in time for apple pie and ice cream. They had been driven out of the house for fear of catching a bit of the lady-ness that had taken over the living room.

There is something really nice about a crafty circle, about a bunch of people sitting around and feeling comfortable with the inevitable silences. Knitting can do that. J's grandma just died and one of the fondest memories I have of her is from several Decembers ago, when she and I sat next to each other near the warm wood stove, in recliners with the foot rests up. She talked, I knitted. For hours. While I worked through some scarf or hat or something, she told me about J's early days, about her early days, about the family farm thirty years ago when Kay and Mitch first moved there. She was 97 when she died a couple of weeks ago. The things she had lived through...it gives me hope that life feels longer than you think it will.

What to say?

Having spent so much time away from my blogging, it's difficult to know what to write about. I'm thinking about the pre-dissertation fellowship proposal I wrote over winter break, I'm thinking about the Racial Formation in the United States chapter I have to teach from tomorrow, I'm thinking about my power yoga class tonight, and I'm thinking about death and dying. Not because I'm dead or dying, or because I turn 30 in April, but because I'm taking a class called Death and Dying.

What's inspiring me right now? Leg warmers. I'm knitting a great pair of orange leg-warmers. A combination of fabulous Cascade wool and a soft kid mohair/silk blend. Warm and sexy! Nothing like a little knit-purl action on a circular needle - it doesn't get much easier than this, kids. And it knits up fast. I'm hosting an evening for crafty ladies this Thursday - six of us sitting around knitting, sewing, crocheting...J is contemplating exit routes as we speak. Somehow, he considers these crafty hobbies to be a bit incongruous with his masculinity, which I think is a pretty nice load of crap. I think he wants to knit, he just can't find the societal permission to allow himself to learn. Someday he will find the glory of knitting a hat, and then wearing his hat and feeling the goodness of his own handiwork. Maybe.