I am reading Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett. I think that this book, being a humorous tale about three witches, with heavy influences from Macbeth, caused me to hear the prayer shawl group cackling.
There were conversations going on like
“Aside from her bossiness, we get on real well” and
“Doesn’t she have a degree in something?” “So she says.”
We did not know any of the people involved, so I cannot say whether this was gossip or mere plainspokenness. But probably the ladies were just laughing robustly, not cackling. It just sounded like cackling. One of them remarked that the good part about being old was retirement and menopause (she phrased it more plainspokenly) and they all cackled, or possibly laughed robustly.
The divine Mrs. M’s husband came in and shook hands with us all rather solemnly, upon which note Mrs. M remarked that he felt there was too much frivolity. I figure you can frivol a bit in a knitting group, though.
In addition to the elderly ladies, there was one young girl and a large woman about my own age attired in lace-edged fuschia stretch capri pants. And #2 daughter and me. #2 daughter began her prayer shawl. She is using the “Windsor” colorway. Some of the ladies were edging theirs in eyelash yarn instead of making fringe. One of the ladies was using Trinity stitch. One was crocheting. There was also quite a range of knitting styles. Everyone holds her hands a little differently. One lady used straight needles and anchored one under her arm, a style I have read of but never seen before. And the lady in fuschia held a lacquered finger straight out along her needle the whole time. You don’t want to stare, do you? But I found it intriguing. I sort of wanted to talk about knitting, and find out how everyone had learned and so on, but with car accidents, health crises, and the man who painted his silo to look like a roll of Life Savers, there just wasn’t time.
Then came book club. We discussed Kitchen, and also The Blind Assassin, last month’s book. The novel Middlesex was proposed for next month — a touching read about hermaphroditism and incest, apparently. We were not all up for that as a summer read, so we compromised on Lolita, a classic which some of us have not read for years and some have not read at all. Its subject matter is unpleasant enough. This was followed by a good talk with La Bella. In all, a very social day, for me. Then I came home and worked further on the quilt. I will show it to you someday.
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This is a picture from our hike. #2 son is running pellmell down the path, arms and hair flying.
Pokey is trying to teach me how to put in pictures by this alternate method (known by the mystic symbol “html”), since xanga still hates me. So far, I cannot actually do it by myself, and the pictures must be in her photobucket. I wrote to xanga about the problem. I got a very real-sounding response signed “Chris” suggesting things I could do to my computer that might help. Deluded into believing that Chris existed and was actually corresponding with me, I wrote back pointing out again that my daughter could — on the selfsame computer — do all she wanted with her xanga. It was just my xanga that wasn’t working, so it couldn’t be my machine. I quickly received another copy of the exact same missive from the supposed Chris. Oh well. I may be able to learn to work around this. Or not. I am practicing. Either I will develop the skills to post things without xanga’s assistance, or it will begin working again, one or the other. My subscription comes up for renewal in another week or two, so I have a logical deadline for it.
But do not be fooled by this Chris person.