Kay in Nashville
October 25, 2004
The scene just moments ago: Clif, five, in the back seat screaming his everloving head off, kicking his grubby little soccer cleats into the back of my seat, caterwauling about hunger and fatigue and “why are we driving into all these driveways and TURNING AROUND?” David, eight, muttering “I’m just really tired. I’m just really tired.” And beside me, right there in my own vehicle, living the life that I live every freaking day, is Kay, whom I am trying to deliver to a house neither of us has ever seen before. She is thinking, How did I get here?
I was feeling a little sorry for Kay, too, having dragged her to soccer practice where every mosquito for three counties was sucking blood to last the winter. In the gloaming we tried to knit, then gave up as another soccer mom asked Kay whether the rained-out game last week was going to be rescheduled. She can pass! I thought. Kay can pass as a Nashville mom! What a complete nightmare this must be for her!
One of the reasons Kay is in Nashville, other than her ongoing humanitarian work in the area of charitable relief fiber arts, is because Hubby is here for a conference. Tonight Hubby encouraged Kay to attend a Function related to the conference, so we found ourselves in the wilds of Forest Hills searching for the Function house. Hubby was coming out by cab (you can take the fella out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the fella), and we found the Function house a lot faster than that cab driver did. It was like leaving your kid at a crummy summer camp. “Uh, Kay, call me if you need me to come get you–I’ll be here in a snap.”
“Don’t LEAVE me here.”
“Aw Kay”–interrupted by a piteous SCREECH from Clif–”you’re such a smoothie in social situations, you’ll be great,” I said, noticing what was surely a hostess peeking out the window at the Joadlike load of humanity in her driveway.
To me it was a no-brainer: a carload of misery versus a houseful of strangers? I’d have been up that front walk faster than I could say “Seeyatomorrow.”
I hope she turns up tomorrow, but I don’t blame her if she doesn’t.
SO Much to Report!
Ah, but there’s plenty of sunshine amid the shadow in middle Tennessee these days. Sunday we had a rapturous time stitching up bwankies at Angel Hair Yarn Co.. Yes, we had Snack, thanks to Cristina who airlifted in some Tang and saltines–OK so it was Starr Ridge Hors D’Oeuvre Simple White Crackers and Tazo Wild Sweet Orange Herbal Infusion. Clearly SOMEbody’s lacking a Piggly Wiggly in her home town.
In honor of our Distance Award winner, Rachel, who broke the sound barrier as she traveled from Birmingham, Alabama, to Nashville in less than fifteen minutes, we had bloody marys. In the process we discovered a new use for a number six needle.
Rachel kind of blew our minds by showing up wearing her totally foxy Rowan Elfin cardigan:
Rachel: the excruciating ruffles of Elfin. Kay: the 28 shades of Kaffe Fassett’s Smoulder. Ann: the white T shirt. Always the underachiever, always with the white T shirt.
We had a LOT of experts stitching with us:
Laura, who pretty much had her way with this colorful cotton number.
Paiden, whose extreme ability to sew a seam kind of humbled us all.
Paiden’s daughter Virginia, who knocked us out with her adorable personality and way with a needle. She did make us all feel as old as Methuselah, but–oh wait, we ARE as old as Methuselah.
Robin, yes, the Robin who knits while reading and at this point has a truly spectacular Red Sox ritual that is keeping her team alive. It involves never leaving the sofa during a game, eating only seafood for dinner, and wearing an ENORMOUS Red Sox sweatshirt. Kay, still wearing black over the loss of the Yankees, managed to keep it civil. This was the only part of the afternoon that had me worried.
This wool collection is called How Green Is My Bwankie. I love seeing the squares finding their place. Everybody’s got an idea on what goes where. The secret, of course, is that there is no wrong way to put these amazing squares together.
Here’s How Green Is My Bwankie, modeled by Pam, the Angel Hair who so graciously forfeited a beautiful Sunday afternoon to hang out with a bunch of knitters. Busman’s holiday for her, but we were thrilled by the afternoon.
Amy and Judy managed to evade the lens of the Kaycam–so glad you could make it.
Hope you all see a square you knitted. Thank you all for making this project happen.
Tomorrow Is Another Day
Awaiting pix of today’s epic sew-up here at Ann’s House of Nuts. I’ll let Kay describe it to you, assuming she makes it back from her morning tour tomorrow of the Grand Ole Opry, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and Webb Pierce’s guitar-shaped swimming pool. Bless her heart, she’s never been to Nashville before.