Give It Up
This post has been in draft mode for at least four weeks, and in addition to the WordPress issues I’ve been fighting with (does anyone know if there’s a limit to the number of photos you can include in one post?) I have to confess: I’ve also been avoiding it. It’s long. It’s mushy. It’s gushy. It’s braggy. And while bragging is oh-so-necessary in this case, it’s also kinda unpalatable. I don’t like reading braggy posts on other blogs, so I’m reluctant to write one. But, good goddamn, I had the most incredibly brag-alicious blog break in the history of all blog breaks. And yesterday, I got the icing on this multi-layered chocolate mousse cake from a dear friend. Friend. It’s a simple word. Sweet. True.
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CLAPOTIS, from the incredibly generous Kimberly
Wifey: You got something in the mail. Should I open it?
Mafia: Hell yeah.
Wifey: It’s yarn. Wait … no, it’s a scarf or something.
Mafia: Is is green and blue with dropped stitch panels on the bias?
Wifey: Um, yes. How did you know that?
Mafia: Oh. My. God!! [jumps up and down on the street corner] I was hoping it was for me!
Wifey: Seriously … how many of these women are you sleeping with?
Mafia: Um, none.
Wifey: Well hell, I sleep with you, and I don’t get handknits in the mail.
ENTER BUBBLES, stage left
The next day, Suzanne had her own dilemma: only after completing this stunning shawl, “Bubbles,” she discovered that she’s allergic to mohair. She asked me if Wifey would like it. Suzanne was very impressed that Wifey was a surrogate and thought that deserved some recognition. She dropped Bubbles into a box and sent it northward. It arrived. Wifey was thrilled. [and I was temporarily off the hook. thanks suzanne!] Wifey’s too shy to pose for photos, so the above pic is the best I could do. Go see the incredible photos that Suzanne took too. Here are a couple more of mine:
Amazing color changes
Amazing halo
Amazing present for me too. What do you think? Hat? Mittens?
MONKEYS
I made these for Danielle because one day I’m on the train and I’m ready to graft the toe, but I can’t remember how. I call Danielle on her cell. While driving through Boston traffic, she’s able to walk me through grafting a toe.
The real reasons that Danielle needs these socks:
1) she just bought her first house, for which she’s been saving and planning for years.
2) one night when I was teaching, she picked Wifey up from the hospital and drove her home.
3) she risks her professional reputation by admitting to people at work that she likes me.
4) that emergency ‘how do i graft a toe’ call results in my best toe ever:
BEIGE STOLE
Martha is a 70 year old semi-retired woman who works on part-time special projects in our office. One day she walks up to me, tells me that she has a gift for me, and hands me a carefully wrapped tissue paper bundle. Inside was this beautiful wool stole that her aunt made at least 30 years ago. The aunt was a rabble rouser who lived in Greenwich Village from the beat days until the 60s. In her youth she married a middle eastern man and was therefore shunned by her family. Within a couple years, she was a widow. The shawl has been packed in tissue paper for most of those 30 years, but Martha wants it to be worn by someone who will appreciate it. It stays on my office chair and snuggles me when I’m cold at work.
SOPHIE’S TOES
For my birthday last November, Suzanne showed up to our MIT Stitch and Bitch unexpectedly with a gift for me. Froggy from Sophie’s Toes. The colorway I’d been ogling, but determined not to buy any more yarn, I resisted. Then it disappeared from Etsy, as all good Etsy finds are wont to do. Apparently Danielle and Suzanne had this planned, and I was none the wiser. I nearly jumped up and down when I saw the Froggy, my dear Froggy, that nearly slipped from my grasp. Now, dear Froggy is sliding through my fingers and I love it. Love.
This is true meaning of friendship. I love y’all.
17 comments May 9, 2007
