Great teachers. Teenage boys. The Gettysburg Address.  A box of Kleenex. Watch The Address, a new film by Ken Burns.

I Hope Someday You’ll Join Us

I Hope Someday You’ll Join Us

Dear Ann, Imagine your sweater is too short to cover your hindquarters (It could happen to you) The vet could be laughing at your “belly sweater” (And the vet’s assistant, too) Imagine all the people, LOLing at you! You may say-ay-ay-ay I’m a dreamer You may say I’m barking mad But I bet the Big Lady Who Yells will make it longer And my sweater will be rad! Love, Kay P.S. I’m pretty sure this is not the...

Read More

Stuff I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You

Stuff I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You

Dear Ann, There’s just loads of stuff going on here. For example, Cin won the Wacky Baby Knits contest. Come on down, Cin! Send me your snail mail, and before long, the cute-o-meter of your life is going to be off the charts. In other news, I went to England. Now I’m back. It was kind of a last-minute mission. Of course there was knitting tourism along the way, and even some destination-worthy needlepoint cushions. But more...

Read More

Friday Catchup

Friday Catchup

Dear Ann, What fun I had gabbing on the webcam last night about cool stuff I would like to buy on Etsy. The audience “sits” in virtual seats in the virtual auditorium, and they can “clap” and “spin” (which real audiences can’t really do that easily). It tickled me to see that at the beginning, people kept moving around in search of a better seat. Like it mattered, you know? The Etsy auditorium is...

Read More

Where Is Virgil When You Need Him?

Where Is Virgil When You Need Him?

Dear Ann, With apologies to Dante Alighieri, who deserves much better: CANTO III The inscription above the Gate of Hell Abercrombie & Fitch. The Ante-Inferno, where the shades of those who lived without eating carbs and without blame now intermingle with the neutral angels. The River Acheron. Charon. A middle-aged woman’s loss of her senses as the earth trembles. THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE CITY WITHOUT FACIAL...

Read More

Instinct Is a Good Designer (and So Is This Guy)

Instinct Is a Good Designer (and So Is This Guy)

Dear Ann, I went into Kaffe Fassett’s talk last night thinking that, being a SuperFan, I pretty much knew what there was to know about The Man and His Work. I came away surprised, and more than anything, inspired. My pictures, however, are anything but inspiring. The light was awful and I was too shy to flash. (Flashing would be impertinent, don’t you think?) Surprises: He doesn’t have an English accent. He still sounds...

Read More

Barefoot (Spinning) in the Park

Barefoot (Spinning) in the Park

Dear Ann, Saturday in the park with Cara was a sweet, sunny, mellow time. Great turnout. Delicious weather. Many wheels. Generous teachers. One stubborn student (me). Like I said, mellow. My daughter’s hands at the wheel, for the first time. Making some twisty, chewy, awesome yarn out of Cara’s BFL. (Start as you mean to continue, messing around with the best materials.) Carrie had stereo teachers. Cara on one side, and...

Read More

A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Imagine no dropped stitches It’s easy if you try No twisted cast-ons Alpaca: all Blue Sky Imagine all the people Knitting socks today… Imagine there’s no muggles They all learned to knit Once we got them started They found it hard to quit Imagine all the people Knitting socks in peace… You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope someday you’ll join us And the world will knit as...

Read More

Stamina

Stamina

Dear Ann, I went to the museum with the 4th graders the other day. This was a coveted field trip to chaperone. I had to arm-wrassle a couple of dinkier moms to get the gig. The 4th grade is studing the ancient Egyptians, all year long or at least until rehearsals start for The Fourth Grade Play. (Ancient Egypt is okay, but playing one of the 8 Charlottes or 10 Wilburs in Charlotte’s Web is awesome.) At this point, these 9-year-olds...

Read More

In Which I Cease Whining (or at least pause)

In Which I Cease Whining (or at least pause)

Dear Ann, Now that I’ve seen the state of your porch chairs, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf, to glop on some fresh psychic paint, to bloom where I am planted, and to make lemonade when life hands me Crystal Light. Thanks for that, friend. Sometimes one needs a reminder that one is not the only Pottery Barn gal marooned in a Grey Gardens world (minus cats and fleas, but I do think about wearing a cardigan on my head). There...

Read More

Desperately Seeking Weird Knits and Poetry

Desperately Seeking Weird Knits and Poetry

Dear Ann, Today my pal Orna took me on a “Meat Chic” Tour. I know, I’m only half a decade late in realizing that the Meatpacking District is the coolest place in the known universe to live/eat/shop/work/see/be seen, or at least the coolest place that you don’t want to be downwind of. Hey–perhaps I’m older and I have more insurance*, but I look at pink sidewalks and think ‘euw’, not ‘Gee, I...

Read More