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05 May 2008 @ 02:40 pm
My Sunday (a story):  
On Sunday evenings at church, I attend what is lovingly known as the "old people class." I, at 28 years old, am the youngest by at least 40 years. As is the case with many people-significantly-older-than-I-am, they get there early and they want to start on time. Anyhow, I've learned to get there early as well, otherwise I a) don't get my seat and b) don't get a song book.

Last night, I got there early and brought my knitting. (I'm an introvert; I need something to stare at so I don't have to expend undue social energy. ^_~)

I was the favoritest person of all the ladies that night. They oohed and ahh-ed over my goofy little sock as though it were the best thing in the world. Thing is, I know these women: all of them could kick my butt in churching out anything they like. Their socks would not have split yarn. Their heels would turn of their own accord. Socks fly from their needles like butterflies in the spring. These women, in other words, are far my yarny superiors. But they were so cute and encouraging, saying (repeatedly) "I didn't know any of you young girls still DID anything like this!"

It was so neat because we connected over sticks and string. They typically used double points for their socks and doilies and such. I explained my deep love of circulars and taught a couple of women how to do magic loop.

It was also interesting because the lesson revolved around inter-generational bonding and mentoring. We'd found our common ground, at least for now.
 
 
 
Superpositional Reality Grenade: Fwends!deliciouspear on June 6th, 2008 04:13 pm (UTC)
D'awwwwwwwwwwwwww!


YOU WIN.