I Love These Guys
Woodins. Why not? Doesn't everyone need a clutch of woolly little anime-inspired creatures and a hand-knit log for them to live in?
And the other good news is that I've lost count of our scarf total. Nikki is sending me a box of scarves and some felted bags, and then another box of scarves. I noticed today that the bag of scarves at work has a few more donations. And the ladies at Sisterhood are hard at work: 25 more to send me!
At the Knitche, at least 5 more finished, and we had a group of 9 knitters at Charity Knit Night, ranging from a young lady in junior high whose mom dropped her off and picked her up, several regulars, and a colleague from work and me. We're hoping that we didn't scare our youngest member away, as conversation drifted to the new Viggo Mortensen movie and other topics best saved for those of us of a certain age. She didn't look frightened, though, and kept working industriously at her purple scarf.
And I found someone at least as competitive as me. Tina wants to challenge another knitting store, with the winner the store that makes the most scarves. I told her about the sisterhood ladies, and she's ready to tell them to bring it on. But they're nice little old ladies (sorry, Mom, I don't mean you or Aunt Nancy), I told her. That's okay, she said. We don't have to tell them that it's a contest; we can just run our side of it and make sure that we beat them. I somehow signed on for making one of those big thermometer posters (remember United Way in grade school?) to track the competition. Then I noticed that some of the other knitters seemed a bit concerned, so I sent Tina in to reassure them that it wasn't a contest, and whatever people want to make, or not make, was fine with me. But I noticed that, throughout the evening, there was a definite setting of expectations and quotas ("if we each made one scarf a day, we'd have 50 scarves in a week"). And I liked this group, because, like me, most of us couldn't knit and talk at the same time.
Next night up is Thursday, October 11th. You should come, even just for the conversation. We sit around a big table, drink tea or coffee, eat brownies, gab, and knit.
And the other good news is that I've lost count of our scarf total. Nikki is sending me a box of scarves and some felted bags, and then another box of scarves. I noticed today that the bag of scarves at work has a few more donations. And the ladies at Sisterhood are hard at work: 25 more to send me!
At the Knitche, at least 5 more finished, and we had a group of 9 knitters at Charity Knit Night, ranging from a young lady in junior high whose mom dropped her off and picked her up, several regulars, and a colleague from work and me. We're hoping that we didn't scare our youngest member away, as conversation drifted to the new Viggo Mortensen movie and other topics best saved for those of us of a certain age. She didn't look frightened, though, and kept working industriously at her purple scarf.
And I found someone at least as competitive as me. Tina wants to challenge another knitting store, with the winner the store that makes the most scarves. I told her about the sisterhood ladies, and she's ready to tell them to bring it on. But they're nice little old ladies (sorry, Mom, I don't mean you or Aunt Nancy), I told her. That's okay, she said. We don't have to tell them that it's a contest; we can just run our side of it and make sure that we beat them. I somehow signed on for making one of those big thermometer posters (remember United Way in grade school?) to track the competition. Then I noticed that some of the other knitters seemed a bit concerned, so I sent Tina in to reassure them that it wasn't a contest, and whatever people want to make, or not make, was fine with me. But I noticed that, throughout the evening, there was a definite setting of expectations and quotas ("if we each made one scarf a day, we'd have 50 scarves in a week"). And I liked this group, because, like me, most of us couldn't knit and talk at the same time.
Next night up is Thursday, October 11th. You should come, even just for the conversation. We sit around a big table, drink tea or coffee, eat brownies, gab, and knit.
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