knit-hate

I knit, right?  We’ve established this. And I know, I’d like to pretend that everywhere in the States this is standard, that we have arrived as a nation to a place where knitters can be knitters. But let’s be real, you see a dude flailing his needles and trailing a wad of string, and most anyone still has to suppress that urge to think him queer.  James Franco, can you just let some paparazzi snap you with your half-finished hand warmers?  It would do a lot for the XYers with a proclivity towards small time productivity.  And also for those…

yeah, i got things

The blog world is all on fire with roasting chestnuts and yuletide wreathing and holiday crayoning, etc.  Here in Armenia, the Peace Corps volunteers are all huddled in their houses around PC issued heaters, wearing night caps (or drinking them) and watching the Christmas movies they may or may not have remembered to bring with them from home.  Next week I’ll be heading south to be with friends.  I plan on doing a lot of talking about what I miss from home, things like Elf Dice, sugar cookies, shuffling under the Christmas tree on my back with my tiny sister…

i knit: a brief history PLUS SOME MONSTERS!

During one of those grade school summer trips to my grandparents house I encountered that yarn and needle thing people do.  That town still hasn’t grown over a thousand and with not a lot to do, weeks at my grandparents included a lot of puzzles and John Wayne movies.  I distinctly remember one of those weeks in which my grandmother, seeing me working that Kermit the Frog puzzle again, tried to teach me to crochet.  My kid fingers couldn’t quite grasp the twists and draws, but I could chain like a madman. I made an orange rope of loops that…