I woke up in a splendiforous mood because we had our second Sip 'n Stitch last night at the Chimney Sweep. Whoo-hoo! Unlike the first one, which caused me to have a wicked hangover, I just woke up happy this morning. We had a great time: we knitted in a little dive bar (in and of itself hilarious because the men were utterly flummoxed that knitters could be as crazy, sexy, and cool as we are), we drank...but not too much, we talked (well, ok, we were screaming), we listened to music and sang along off-key (I see a Stitch 'n Sing karaoke night in our future). We were in our own little Camelot: a place where we saw the best in each other, believed the best about each other, and were our best selves.
And then I woke up and was reminded of my own reality: I am going through a divorce that is growing increasingly more acrid. My soon to be ex (we'll call him Bum for now) wrote some vicious, ugly things about me in documents that he's filed with the court. A stranger reading these papers would likely think that I am unreasonable, inflexible, and crazy. A stranger reading these papers would have no choice but to believe that I am bad. And when I first saw these papers, I have to say that I accepted all of that bad stuff. I folded in myself. I was not the big, confident, happy, creative woman I believed I was last night. I felt small and fragile. For a moment, I forgot the little Camelot we Sexy Stitchers created last night. Hell, for a moment, I forgot who and what I am. I felt trapped and alone.
But what last night taught me is that I'm not really alone. I love knitting because it brings together the most diverse group of women: each at a different point in her life; each with different baggage, hopes, and dreams. And for the time when we're together, it seems that anything is possible. We talked about using knitting to raise awareness of a multitude of charitable efforts, we solved each other's problems, and, when we couldn't do that, we vowed to get the person who was causing the problem. We ooohed and aahhed over each other's projects, and in doing so, affirmed each other's creativity and beauty. We talked about light things, we talked about heavy things. These women were happy to spend time with me and I with them because we are all valuable and worthy of the best life has to offer. I am so lucky to be a part of a group of women who accept each other for who each one is.
I wish that we could have stayed in that space for a lot longer than we did. It was nothing short of magical for me.
And we're some pretty kick-ass knitters, to boot.
Frickin' Tilli Tomas yarn is $18 bucks a ball for the plain stuff
