It seems that I’ve taken an unscheduled holiday from our beloved blog. The truth is, Real Life has been hopping. Hopping I tell you!
The Dead Sea Highlighters have been excavated again, as somebody in our house will be called to the Torah as a bar mitzvah next month. The 6-8 weeks leading up to a bar mitzvah can really explode a person’s schedule. In fairness, they should throw in ordination at the end of the process, and give these kids a congregation. It’s deeply, strangely satisfying to see your child learn how to do something that you can’t do yourself. Like magic, the reading of Hebrew, the chanting of ancient scraps of melody, the interpretation of what it could mean. The passage Joseph is learning is a story of betrayal, prostitution and redemption in an extended family, in the time of Jacob. Definitely PG-13, which I suppose is appropriate.
A non-knitting reader has written to inquire whether I am all right, because “you haven’t even blogged about RHINEBECK!” Here’s my blog about Rhinebeck: We had a fantastic time at Rhinebeck. I photo-tweeted the heck out of Rhinebeck. Here are some Instagram highlights.
First thing in the morning, on the bus to the fairgrounds, I realized a major ambition when we met my most crushed-on contemporary quilter, Cauchy a/k/a Chawne. She appeared like a vision, slightly blurry as you can see, and then we all got off the bus and didn’t see each other again all day.
We hung out with Gale and our Fussy Cuts blanket in the book barn, and met some of the wonderful designers from Gale and Joan’s new book, Craft Activism.
One of those smashing designers: Ann Weaver, shown here modeling my version of her Albers Shawl. (I will talk, someday, about what happened to that shawl after Rhinebeck, involving the washing machine. It’s OK. It’s really OK.) (It’s not OK.)
Also yakking away in the book barn, with Jane and Amy, was the lovely Clara Parkes, who sold out of her own new book, The Knitter’s Book of Socks. Which must have been frustrating, and also thrilling. But frustrating. It’s a wonderful book even if you don’t knit socks. If you do knit socks, prepare to plotz; this book’s for you!
Naturally, what with life swirling around me and all, it’s a good time to knit a dress. I saw this dress, Allegheny, on two people at Rhinebeck. Very different body types, and it looked abfab on both of them.
Here, on the designer, Thea Colman. Stinkin’ cute, right?
As you know, Ann, I love a knitted dress. One of my signature 80s outfits was a Liz Claiborne (shut UP!) knitted dress with a Very Eighties Belt slung low on the hips, worn with 2-tone, kitten-heel slingbacks. The dress was fine-gauge, in a dove grey, with white and yellow dots the size of saucers. It enveloped me from collarbone to knee, but let’s just say the menfolk admired this dress. Why oh why did I let it go? Ever since, I have been a defender of the much-maligned Knitted Dress.
Allegheny is my first Shelter project. Shelter may convert my cottony soul to the cult of the sheep. So crisp! Such color! Although I have only progressed to the set-up row for the body of the dress, I feel 100 percent confident that this project is going to fly off the needles, and that I will be wearing it in December, with motorcycle boots and my cherished Missoni for Target tights. (Hoo. Chee. Mama.) Stay tuned for flying needles.
Happy weekend all,