akabini

I'm not sure why, exactly, but this year I've noticed a distinct connection among a sequence of spring 'holidays':
International Women's Day: March 8*
Earth Day: April 22
Mother's Day: first Sunday in May

Call me a curmudgeon, but
ONE LOUSY STINKIN' DAY for HALF the human population?
One day for all the women who hold the toughest-yet-most-satisfying job there is?
24 hours for the WHOLE ENTIRE PLANET on which we depend for our very survival?

Sheesh.

I'm with the venerable Zimmermann on this one:

I deplore Mother's Day. Mother has it good and if anyone loves her and wants to show it, one measly day in the year is a pretty squinchy space of time in which to do it.

from "Woolgathering," Issue #4, reprinted on p. 27 of The Opinionated Knitter

 So now that we're on the other side of the celebrations, calendar-wise, do we move on with a sigh of relief? Having sent the cards and the flowers, is it back to business (where women have more training and still earn 85% of a typical man's wage)?

I could get cynical here (and what with the election season in full swing, it'd be easy to do so), but I can't.
You see, I do firmly believe in my blog's tag line: I believe that we live better because of knitting.

The content here may ramble from the knitterly from time to time, but because I'm so lucky as to do this for a living, I get to spend a lot of time with knitters, and a lot of time knitting...
and you know what?

I really believe that knitters will save the planet.

And it's not just the visible way we rally around a cause, as "super-givers" in fund-raising parlance: viz. our amazing response to the Yarn Harlot's drive for Doctors without Borders/Médecins sans Frontières;

It's not just the way we lavish hours and yardage to knit up hats for preemies, scarves for the homeless, and the countless pieces of charity knitting we do every year;

It's not just the way we forge connections with loved ones and with community as we sit and knit things for those we love …

It's in the very nature of knitting itself.
Making things from string is a revolutionary act.
Work with me on this one.

In the coming weeks, I'll be putting together a series of posts on this topic.
Come the end of summer, I hope you'll be with me, stitching away to rescue the planet from the brink of environmental disaster – while getting your holiday gifts finished on time.

* How many of us remember that the March was chosen as the month for IWD
in commemoration of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of 1911?

Happy birthday, S.i.L. Mooseknits / alce !

Drop by her blog and say hey. 

You know, the whole 40 thing is not such a big deal-
life is just as sweet this week as it was last.

But some things just creep up on a gal,
and when they do?
You know you're in midlife when...

• mutual funds are interesting.
• you know what a mutual fund is.
• your child/stepchild and your parents are both sprightly and independent (lucky one, that!)
• you've used the word 'amortization' with a straight face.
• you keep up with mortgage rates - just in case you might want to re-fi.
• you heart thrills when someone calls you 'Miss...'
• your friends' children start to knit.
• you seriously consider taking glucosamine - you know, for those joints that ache. Sometimes.
• 'Massage' (or 'Therapy') is a line item in your monthly budget.
• you're on your third car as a grown-up.

And oh, there are so many more...
Anyone?
Feel free to chime in in the comments.

[And yes, I know how spectacularly lucky I am with the whole parent/stepchild thing. Trust me. They're fabulous, and doing fine.] 

When I turned 30, I:

• had just moved to this small town
• had more long-distance friends than local ones
• was happy when I knew one face while running errands around town
• was working on a book, but struggling with it
• read the KnitList every day, but didn't prowl the local yarn store
• had just bought my first house, but hadn't a clue how to tackle my 1/4-acre garden.

Ten years later, I:

•  can't run errands in a timely fashion because I run into too many people that I know and love each place I stop
• still have many of those great long-distance friends
• have true-blue, wish-I-could-see-them-more-often friends in the knitting world both locally and abroad
• have made over virtually every surface in this house, and built a lovely addition which houses a dear friend of ours
• have lost 30 pounds and kept them off
• run a triathalon (albeit a short one)
• started my pattern business and in the process, discovered my dream job
• have married the most fabulous man there ever was – in an ensemble entirely hand-knit by yours truly
• adopted the Best Dog Ever
• can run 4 miles!
• and here is the garden now (in no small part thanks to Mom's herculean efforts before the wedding):

If you're reading this, you've been a part of this magnificent last decade-
Thank you for making it so great.

And now, there shall be cake! 

Tell you what, the last day of my thirties has been grand.

It was a lovely drive back up from Cannon Beach.

(Spring! Actual spring! Temperatures in -gasp- the seventies! (that's 18+C, for you metric folk north and east of us).

We even found one young sprite sunbathing.... in front of the Blue Moon barn.
So, as further proof of just how spectacular and amazing my life has become, Tina (a.k.a. "the Yarn Dealer") pressed several skeins of lovely stuff in my hands "to see what you think it can do."

Yarn.
To play with.
Like, for my actual job 'n sh*t.

Amazing.

So ta-ra, thirties, you've been good to me.
When I step onto the Stairmaster at the gym tomorrow (and yes, I sure as hell am going to the gym tomorrow, after the champagne and treat-filled weekend I've just had), I'll type in my weight and then:

4.
0.

See you there.

[* Hat courtesty of Peet's coffee, the kind folks who make sure I can get out of bed every morning, and who have done so since I was ... oh ... sixteen?]