Knit Sisters

Suitably enough, I learned from Alison Bechdel’s wonderful, though harrowing, graphic novel/memoir Fun Home, shown here harmonizing beautifully with Sarah’s handspun:

that in the circus, the sort of acrobatics that involve one person lying on the floor and balancing another in the air are known as “Icarian games.”

Check it out! Page three. I’m knitting a shawl called Icarus and reading a book which mentions Icarian games on its very first full page.

Just coincidence? Or does everything happen for a reason?

Um. Yeah. Probably just coincidence.

But what a cool synergy! Bechdel returns to the Icarus myth throughout her memoir as a way of elucidating her relationship with her father, but she says nothing about Icarus’s shenanigans in Vegas. A missed opportunity, I’d say!

My Icarus now forms veritable pink dunes when you look at him from the side:

I left the room for a minute and discovered this intrepid Marine storming the ridges:

Forward troops! If we gain ground tonight, we can be over Heartbreak Hill and onto the fourth chart by morning!

I’m really savoring every minute I have with this Alchemy Haiku, both because I love it and because I’ve decided that there will be no more yarn buying for a while. So the yarn I have (which is admittedly not what you’d call a meager collection, except when compared to my sister’s stash…) must be enjoyed to the fullest.

Happily, on the very heels of this soul-destroying yarn-diet decision, my friend Tope generously gave me some Rowan 4-ply Botany she got from someone who was destashing:

Tope is no great fan of pink, and, as you may have noticed, I am. And yes, my friends, frugal is such an ugly word.

Tope’s gift of the wonderful and discontinued Botany really took the edge off. There are actually four skeins, but two are shy.

Thank you, Tope!

Let us speak no further of this yarn diet. It can only bring us sorrow.

Meanwhile, Alex is celebrating his birthday this week, consistent with our tradition of stretching every birthday celebration out for at least seven days. Sometimes, if you are clever, you can get ten days out of it, but that’s rare.

Last night, Nasser, who asked that I inform you that he also answers to “Omar Sharif,” came over for a birthday dinner:

My good man, how does it feel to be a quarter of a century old?

Shelley received a rubber chicken as part of the evening’s festivities:

Mmm. Chicken dinner. Chicken dinner…

And Nasser checked the internet for helpful advice for men turning twenty-five:

The only consistent message was that a man of this age will generally be happier, more fit, and more successful in all areas of his life if he chooses the companionship of a somewhat older woman.

Fortunately, Alex already knew this.

Happy Birthday, Alex! And many more!

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 7th, 2006 at 11:33 am and is filed under Icarian games, Lace it up, Wool gathering. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.