I love it.
I labour under the delusion that it makes me look thin and clever, and with my snazzy linen pants, sort of elegant. Me looking “elegant” is significant, since really, the best that I can manage its usually “dressed” and on a good day “clean”. There is a special day coming however…and the harlot will be well dressed. Assuming of course that I can keep the tank from getting some kind of stain on it over the next few days. (Oh wait, I’m wearing white pants, clearly they will be the target). Just the same I’m intending to eat only dry, non-staining foods today while wearing this get up, things like plain rice chips and er….water, I guess.
As much as I have trained Joe in the ways of the needle, (this means speaking to him about knitting directly and constantly for years) he has apparently learned very little. Witness the conversation this morning.
Me: Do you like this? I wonder if I should have made it a little longer… Joe?
Joe is reading the newspaper. Joe is making affirmative grunting noises. I am asking him about knitting, and he is doing his best to make the grunts seem well placed and thoughtful. This is what we do. The minute he hears the word “knitting” he goes into some kind of automatic mode. I do not get angry about this (mostly because when Joe talks to me about…say…the amount of compression the studio console is getting, all I can hear is the noise that the teacher used to make in Charlie Brown television shows. Wah-wah, wah-wha-wah, Wah.) I attempt a second time. Besides, we have discussed this before, and Joe assures me that even though it would appear that what he is doing is giving me monosyllabic grunts of appeasement, he is actually expressing his belief that our relationship is so deep and connected that there does not always need to be all these “words”.
Me: Joe, Joe? Do you like the cables on the front? I’m not sure about the mattress stitch I used on the sides….Joe?
Clearly I’m not making an impact. At all. Two things are obvious. I really, really need some knitting friends and I was right when I decided that Joe was infinitely more willing to discuss knittting if I am at least semi-naked. Since I want to show him the tank top, taking it off would be counter productive. I try one more time.
Me: Joe? Lovie, look, I’m wearing the new tank top.
Joe: (no answer)
Ahh…phase two. His brain has chosen “flight” over “fight” and he is no longer present in the conversation. Now I’ve been married long enough to know what works. I’m not some silly girl who can’t engage a man in the art of conversation. I pull out the big guns.
Me: Joe? Do you think that this tank is too low in the front?
Joe’s head snapped up to admire the knitting so fast that I worry about whiplash. Ahh, I think, now he will see my handiwork, comment on the cables, we can discuss the making up and he will say nice things about the grafting on the shoulders. Now that I have his attention, now we will really talk.
Joe: Nice Rack Baby.
Really. What did I expect.
Finally today, I got an email today telling me that “Yarn Harlot” (the blog, not me) is a
Very cool. I’d like to thank the academy, and my posse of commenters who make it all worth it.
I love it.