A one-minute audio linguistics lesson: how New Orleanians pronounce “Chartres.”

Summery Snippets

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Dear Ann, I’m heading off-blog for a few days. Ann: I’m leaving you in charge. No parties. More than two friends is a party. Lisa Downstairs is there if you need anything. (She’s also keeping an eye out, if you know what I’m saying.) (What I’m saying is: no parties.) But before I go, a few summery snippets, as we welcome the season of peaches and sand. YARN THE MOVIE Has everybody been sending you links to the movie...

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Lazy Sunday: Eastenders

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Dear Ann, My longest-running, most reliable knittertainment, by far, is the British soap opera EastEnders, a multi-family, working-class drama that has been running continuously since 1985. I started watching it about ten years after that, a few years before my kids were born. I know this because in early 1997, I was standing in front of the TV, rocking a sleepy newborn, when the EastEnders theme started playing. Whereupon the baby started...

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Be Nice or Leave: A Visit to the Quarter Stitch

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Dear Ann, Last Saturday, I ran out of the Washington Convention Center, blowing kisses. I caught a plane to New Orleans, checked into my room, fluffed myself up for a celebratory dinner, and set off on foot down Chartres Street. I’d never been to New Orleans before, but everybody else in my life has been there, and they have all sent me a photo of The Quarter Stitch, the French Quarter’s yarn shop. I was nearly at the restaurant when...

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The Gift of Being Easily Entertained

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Dear Ann, On Sunday night I was occupied with celebrating a wedding in New Orleans, and missed the live telecast of the Tony Awards. So it was only last night that I watched some of the best bits on YouTube. I think we all need some uplift, so here goes, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s acceptance-speech sonnet: Also, Ann, I want you to know that I have a new hobby: looking at pictures of Daveed Diggs’ jackets. Like this one, and this one, and...

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Back to Rectangle One

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Dear Ann, There is a spectrum of perfectionism in knitting. I’m at an extreme end of the scale. Once I know about a mistake, I have to fix it, even if it doesn’t really make a difference to the wear or the look of the garment. I do not subscribe to the “trotting horse school,” in which you don’t have to worry about a mistake unless it can be seen from a trotting horse. Or on a trotting horse. It has something to do...

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SUCH FUN.

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