Nevermind all that I said about spending time sewing this month. I’m knitting something so cartoonishly knitterly that I feel like a look-at-how-kooky-this-girl-is sitcom actress:
CAROLINE sits down at the café table across from NIC, pulls a fuzzy pink half-knit mitten from her bag, and begins working.
CAROLINE: So, how was the show last night?
I mean, this actually is what I did on Saturday afternoon.
Anyway, I’ve stumbled into a newfound but very real love for angora. I haven’t ever worked with it, since it always seemed to be too much for me. It’s not my taste. But I think the qualities I used to find so jarring– it is undeniably fuzzy– are now maybe what draw me to it. Angora cannot be ignored. It does not apologize for itself.
I will leave you with this shocking thought: I’m thinking a good bit about a day-of-the-week set of angora-lined pulse warmers. Lord have mercy.