… or maybe it’s just that I’m evil. Bwah ha ha!
First, a Rant: Dear people who do not knit, knitting is NOT sewing. One involves yarn and pointy sticks (which can be used as weapons in the case of emergencies). The repetitive motions in knitting produce a calming, Zen-like state of being and sometimes yields pleasing, useful objects. The other craft entails fabric, ironing, pinning, cutting and long periods of sitting upright behind a cursed machine with less-than-satisfying results when I attempt it. Just because I neurotically carry knitting in my purse and pull it out during each and every lull in the day does not mean that I automatically partake of every craft that you remember your grandmother doing. They are NOT the same. Thank you.
Yesterday my eldest daughter sent a text requesting the use of my sewing machine. Everyone who resides in our home or reads this blog knows of my aversion to sewing machines. It’s my belief that my girls learned their very best curse words from listening to me sew, which may explain why she chose to text, rather than call. She’s in the high school musical, “Return to the Forbidden Planet”, and “she” was tasked with creating 10 foot + long tentacles that can reach on stage and grab cast members during one of the scenes. When I picked A1 up from an all-day play practice an army of teenagers proceeded to file out the stage door and load this fabric into my van. In A1’s defense, she didn’t “volunteer” my services, but when the stage manager asked for someone to make the tentacles several awkward minutes of silence followed the request. Eventually my daughter succumbed to the pressure and raised her hand. She is assisting in every way possible to make these, but our school district doesn’t offer Home-Economic classes (they have something similar, but sewing isn’t part of the curriculum), so she can’t sew. As evil as the craft is, it’s necessary that I step in. Several cast members have seen me knitting while waiting to pick her up and have asked me to sew costumes for them. The assumption being that because I knit, I must also sew.
The tentacles are supposed to be “patchy” because they represent the warped recesses of someone’s mind, or the “IDs that march”. It’s a pun in reference to Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar” and the warning to “Beware the Ides of March”. Apparently this play is full of them. Anyway, they must be completed by tomorrow. The last laugh is on them though because they shall be covered in cat hair, courtesy of Miss Bonny. This evening is a potluck cheer banquet as well. As I’ve often told my girls, “I deserve to be put into a good home someday.”
Other necessary evils this weekend include sorting 15 years worth of school work, art projects, letters and other treasures. Being the sentimental sort, I’ve saved absolutely every scrap of paper from my children’s past. We have, or rather had, about 15 boxes and bins full of “stuff”. Sorting through the papers is nostalgic and time-consuming. Deciding what to recycle is really hard because every little scrap and bit brings back memories of when the girls were little. I’m resolved that each child shall only have one tote full of memorabilia and that our attic will no longer pose the danger of collapsing from undo weight. I’ve awoken from sound sleep in a panic out of fear of fire. All that paper would virtually explode if ignited. It must be done.
Finally, not something “evil” or “necessary”, but rather something amusing. The netted tape yarn that’s abundant in every craft store doesn’t serve any tangible purpose, other than to make really neato-looking ruffled scarves. The pattern is incredibly simple (8 stitches, garter stitch until yarn is gone). Of course having to spread open the yarn to find the next loop is fiddly and working with HUGE needles is quite ungainly, but there is nothing “difficult” about making these. Absolutely zero skill is required. None. Nada. Zilch. There are no intricate yarn overs and lacy patterns to memorize or charts to follow. Exacting precise tension while producing eye-popping Fair Isle isn’t a factor. Yet, several people have raved when seeing this. They’ve expounded about how “Talented” I must be and how much they love the scarves.
Of course, the compliments were kindly meant, and they came from non-knitters who don’t know any better, but I find it ironic that something requiring no higher thought processes than those used to tie shoes garners more attention than intarsia socks knitted on size 00 needles. This has been added to my Gift Box. I will make at least one more to use up the impulsively purchased novelty yarn, but then it’s back to my boring, unimpressive knitting.
Back to creating evil tentacles. Somebody has to do it. Cheers!