Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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2 Comments:
Ummm...what's "mostly indie"? I turned out to be 16% girlie, which is really stupid, 'cause I was never a tom-boy. They just didn't ask the right questions...or they're about 50 years off in their definition of "girlie". I'm "girlie" like Rosalind Russell...or Katherine (sp?) Hepburn...or Anne Bancroft. Hummmpfh!!!
In other words, I probably shouldn't waste my time (or rather our ILL assistant's time) getting either of them probably?
By Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Saturday, July 15, 2006 Harumph. I’ve been sleepy and draggy most of the week - so when I finally have a Friday night with a free Saturday morning to follow - I wake up at 2:30 and try to read myself back to sleep. Proof, alas, that the dog days have come at last. Let us hope I can take a nap this afternoon. To answer Aria - no. I haven’t yet read Miller’s biography of Laura. I’m not sure I want to - I was so crushed and repulsed by The Ghost in the Little House - a deconstructionist slash by William Holtz - that I’ve about quit reading TheTruthBehindYourJoy books. I don’t mind other people having their opinions, you know, just so long as I don’t have to pay any attention to them. I did read the much earlier bio by Donald Zochert, Laura, that filled in some childhood gaps and put the timeline into sharper focus. But I don’t recall much opinionating in his work - more a diary like itinerary of the family’s struggles, moves, health issues and eventual settlement. It doesn’t surprise me that opinionators find Laura bossy - shrewish, even - somehow her alpha personality came through in most of her books - certainly in the teenage Laura. Nor can I refrain from a bit of a chuckle at the latest reviews of Miller’s bio, that refer to her with a double, unhyphenated last name: Ingalls Wilder. Shudder. Give me squeaky chalkboards any day. Ahh well. I am an anachronism. I like to take one last name and apply it to the whole family. In future, I wonder if two hyphenated surnames will then also have to be hyphenated so that within a few generations we’ll all sound biblical when we are introduced. “Hello, I’m Bess, daughter of Louise and Henry, daughter of Bessie and Walter and son of Everet and Eulalia, daughter of ...” We’d do better just taking last names that identify us by our jobs. Bess Bibliorganizer. Call me BB for short. The other reason I may not take up the new biography is that Miller’s style is both pedantic and redundant. He makes the same points so frequently it’s difficult to keep reading. I had suspected the Little Town work was a dissertation. I’m not sure I want to hear him repeatedly gush about the wonder of an independent career woman in an age of limited opportunities. Without trying to deny any of the historical inequities which have bound any group of people to limited options, I wonder why Miller rejected the notion that a farm wife was employed at a job. For that matter - the term independent career woman is something of an oxymoron. With almost no exceptions, career people have bosses and are not independent at all, but must work within the constraints of their industry and their firm. Even bosses have bosses - be they customers or the electorate. The work arena is first a place of work and only second, a garden of fulfillment. Anyway - I didn’t mean to slide into a curmudgeonly grumble. I really intended to catch folk up on my week. Monday I ran off to play with a girlfriend, B, who wanted to be walked through the steps of fiber dyeing. We’d talked about doing this long ago but hadn’t firmed up anything specific - and I’d been so hot and dazed and sleepy after the weekend festivities that I didn’t give much of a thought to all the steps involved. I hadn’t dyed anything in over a year, but it all came back to me in fits and starts, and B had all the things necessary to make beautiful pour dyed and handpainted fibers. I have pictures but they won’t be developed till Monday and I shan’t be near a scanner till Tuesday. Next week. Promise. Tuesday night was our knitting night and 5 of us gathered in the cool of the library to stitch and share and show. B had her spinning, as well as the vest she’s knitting for her husband out of her first wheelspun yarn. L had her sample of Yarns From Beneath the Bed - and solicited advice on a possible garment made of them. S had her bamboo scarf. She was knitting it in stranded colorwork and was worried about the floats in the back. Out came Barbara Walker’s treasuries with their slipstitched mosaic patterns and she went home full of inspiration. C had a clutch of preemie hats knit in the now discontinued Cottonese. I’m not a cotton knitter much, but I know the what it is to mourn a discontinued favorite. I was knitting on my Rowan and Trendsetter hat and I had my new KnitPicks circulars for people to touch and knit with. I spun a wee bit on HeyBaby Thursday morning. The first bobbin of Cormo/Mohair blend is about full. I hope tomorrow to get a LOT more done on bobbin #2. Maybe ply next weekend. The week grew steadily hotter and more humid as it progressed towards the weekend. By yesterday it was downright oppressive. BD and I headed off to see some John Smith boat activity. Two museums are building replicas of the shallop he rowed/sailed around the Chesapeake bay. BD is in great demand at these places because he is not only the scholarly expert on Smith documents, but he has also been so active in helping to develop the Captain John Smith Chesapeake National Historic Water Trail. Both boatbuilding efforts are impressive. They are works of passion, labors of love, researched, designed and built by volunteers. The one being built at the museum in Middlesex - the next county south of us - is still under construction but the one at the Reedville Fisherman’s museum was launched at a 6 p.m. ceremony with much toasting, cheering and local pride. And so it is the weekend. I must go in to work early this morning to deal with some equipment failure - it shan’t take long - I can’t do much. But what I can do must be done today because I shan’t be back till Tuesday. I’ll try to fit in a visit to the gym as well. The house is in great need of attention from broom, dust rag and vacuum. But tomorrow I hope to devote to fiberly persuits. posted by Bess | 7:43 AM |
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