The Healing Power of Fiber
So, I'm kind of purring over here.
Seriously.
When Ana was a tiny baby, she had this little rhythmic song she sang when she was content. "Hum-hum. Hum-hum." I'd take her for a walk in the stroller and I could hear her singing to herself. Or I'd put her down for a nap and she'd hum to herself for a bit.
That's me right now.
Knit Night was... amazing.
I complained all the way over to my nice friend Sherrie. Life is hard. Kids are hard. Working out is hard. Being gimpy is hard. Marriage is hard. New York is hard. Driving (SHE was driving) is HARD.
I felt ill and out of sorts and worst of all, my cup was flat out EMPTY. Dry, I'm telling you. It was BAD. I can't remember the last time I felt so awful in my skin. Honestly, it was BAD.
And then we got there and were enveloped by the nicest, nicest knitters.
I endeavored to be entertaining even though, as I've said and y'all have not believed, I AM SHY. I told Jane stories --always a good fall-back to make people laugh --especially because the joke is always on me. I sweated a bit from nerves. I finished Lin's sock. (In fact, I might have gotten carried away and made it a bit too long. I'll try it on her tomorrow.)
And by gosh, I can't explain it, but suddenly, everything was okay. There was just something about being with this group of women --of whom I might have been the youngest at age 43 --that made everything sort of all right again. All these women, married a zillion years and having raised a zillion children and knitted a zillion freaking socks (or not, some people think socks are hard so they knit--hello--sweaters instead. Me? I QUAKE at the thought of sweaters but apparently, I can knit a sock in my spare time in two days.) All of them, so glad to be with other knitters.... so...just...well...
Well.
It was magical. It was healing. There was so much laughter that management sent someone over to ask us to pipe down.
God, I love that. May the last day of my life include so much laughter that it disturbs other people. May my tombstone say, "Hey, Barb, could you keep the laughter to a dull roar?"
Hum-hum.
Seriously.
When Ana was a tiny baby, she had this little rhythmic song she sang when she was content. "Hum-hum. Hum-hum." I'd take her for a walk in the stroller and I could hear her singing to herself. Or I'd put her down for a nap and she'd hum to herself for a bit.
That's me right now.
Knit Night was... amazing.
I complained all the way over to my nice friend Sherrie. Life is hard. Kids are hard. Working out is hard. Being gimpy is hard. Marriage is hard. New York is hard. Driving (SHE was driving) is HARD.
I felt ill and out of sorts and worst of all, my cup was flat out EMPTY. Dry, I'm telling you. It was BAD. I can't remember the last time I felt so awful in my skin. Honestly, it was BAD.
And then we got there and were enveloped by the nicest, nicest knitters.
I endeavored to be entertaining even though, as I've said and y'all have not believed, I AM SHY. I told Jane stories --always a good fall-back to make people laugh --especially because the joke is always on me. I sweated a bit from nerves. I finished Lin's sock. (In fact, I might have gotten carried away and made it a bit too long. I'll try it on her tomorrow.)
And by gosh, I can't explain it, but suddenly, everything was okay. There was just something about being with this group of women --of whom I might have been the youngest at age 43 --that made everything sort of all right again. All these women, married a zillion years and having raised a zillion children and knitted a zillion freaking socks (or not, some people think socks are hard so they knit--hello--sweaters instead. Me? I QUAKE at the thought of sweaters but apparently, I can knit a sock in my spare time in two days.) All of them, so glad to be with other knitters.... so...just...well...
Well.
It was magical. It was healing. There was so much laughter that management sent someone over to ask us to pipe down.
God, I love that. May the last day of my life include so much laughter that it disturbs other people. May my tombstone say, "Hey, Barb, could you keep the laughter to a dull roar?"
Hum-hum.
Comments
I'm so glad to hear you humming, again.
:) thanks for sharing the magic.
(You know, like "close the bar"? It doesn't really work as a sentence. But if you heard me, you'd know I meant well. Like, "party all night, you knittin' dynamo.")
I had a hard time making friends in Vancouver -till I started knitting...and boy, did that ever change things right quick! The nice thing is that when I'm feeling shy (and I totally believe you when you say you are, I'm the same way!) I don't have to say much while I'm knitting. Plus, I get socks out of the deal. Score!
Glad to hear that you made it out.
And then we found out that it was a group of EIGHTH GRADERS on a field trip who had complained about us.
But dude...I had no idea you did FITTINGS for socks.