The comments to my Virginia Vacation post are a testimonial to the Power of Blogging. We heard from people who live in Charlottesville, drive by Mount Vernon every day, garden at Monticello, work in the Needle Lady Yarn shop, work across the street from the Needle Lady yarn shop, somebody who was leading a group of 50 third-graders through Williamsburg the day I was there, and somebody who went to high school with the portrait artist who painted Carrie. There was a real live Williamsburg historical reenactor, and a person whose job is figuring out what color the original paint was in Houses of Historical Importance. We also heard from somebody who proposed to her husband at Manassas National Battlefield. (“There is Jackson standing like a stone wall—and a couple of crazy kids smooching.”) The comments gave me such a sense that wherever we go, we are walking through all these unseen connections with each other. The knitters are thick on the ground. We really do need a secret handshake, or a scarlet K or something.
Weirdness and the Eye of the Beholder
I don’t have much to contribute today, because, like you, I have been wrassling with this behemoth:
The Last Pass of our beloved second book. Usually when I get to the last of anything, I am a bit nostalgic and sad. This is not like that. This is like GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU ARE THE SCOURGE OF MY EXISTENCE AND COME BACK WHEN YOU ARE A REAL BOOK OK? So glad to have you to tag-team this thing with me.
This was my favorite query. Is it a compliment? Is the implication that we should make it less weird? Can we get more specificity on the nature of the weird-seemingness? Can we get a do-over?
I can never, ever in a million years solve the Weekly Puzzler on Car Talk. If there were a Puzzler for knitting, I might have a chance. This is a Textile Puzzler.
Belinda is visiting. She brought me this item from an East London shop called Labour and Wait:
Clues: I am heavyweight linen, pressed and quite possibly starched.
I am about 8 feet long and about 2 feet wide with a single seam, creating a very large loop of very wide fabric. I have selvedges on both edges.
What am I?
(Note: Labour and Wait sells some vintage items. I don’t know if this is one of them.)
(Belinda reports that her shopping companion wondered why she was buying such a thing. Belinda responded, “Kay will LOVE this!” Which was correct. I love it. Whatever it is.)
I’m sure I’ll have some knitting to show soon. I feel it coming on.