Bummers

Back in the day, back when I forged (well, "altered") my birth certificate so it would show that I was a year older and therefore allowed to work, I got a job throwing pizzas at the local pizza joint. It was a hole in the wall, really, but for some reason the crust was so good that we always had crowds. Never mind, once my co-worker and I accidentally dropped a little pizza dough onto the floor and scooped it back up into the kneading pile. And never mind, either, that a week or two later someone called and claimed she had a "bolt" in her pizza crust. Still, the pizzas were the best around and even though I only made a little more than two bucks an hour, it was decidedly fun due to all the bummers.

We called pizzas that were somehow wrong, i.e., half pepperoni instead half pepperoni and half onion as ordered, "bummers." Every night, there would be a few and if we had a particularly crazy night, there might be a handful, which meant I got to take the bummer home and share it with my family.

We loved the bummers because that meant we always had cold pizza available for all, and even better, they fared well in the freezer and were still good reheated. These days, most people wouldn't appreciate the bummers half as much as we did because now we have microwaves and honestly people: Do not put cold pizza in a microwave.

So yesterday, I took my latest weaving thingy, a scarf I guess, to the LYS to show my friends. It was full of tension problems and a few mistakes, but after living with it for a day or two, I decided I liked a little "character," you know, the things that make it look rustic, like some looseness where there shouldn't be. Or a ripple here and there, or uneven weft tension that makes it look like its striped even though it technically isn't.

The first thing my friend Laura said when she saw it was: "Wow! I love how rustic it looks! Did you do this intentionally?"

If only she knew.

And so I got to thinking about how different weaving is from knitting. I'll never forget a particular woman who was a beginner knitter and was knitting a baby sweater for a friend. When she showed it to me and asked me what I thought, I paused. That thing was so full of dropped stitches, snags, purls where the knits should be, knits where the purls should be, etc. that I honestly didn't know how to respond. Of course, I told her it looked lovely, but wow. It was just "problematic," and I just wouldn't say so. Imagine if I told her it was rustic. That it had "character." I'd be hung from the rafters by my nose hairs. No really; I would.

This is why, I think, I'm liking weaving so much. I like it when it isn't perfect. I like it when the tension is a bit off. When my knitting is a bit off? Don't get me started. You know I'm no perfectionist when it comes to my knitting, but boy, it really bugs me when it looks "rustic."

BTW: I still have that birth certificate. It never used to bother me that it shows that I'm a year older than I truly am. Oh, and one other thing: I scored some Wollmeise Lace Weight the other day. I showed it to some of my knitting buddies in Long Beach last weekend, and the first thing someone said was, "Do they call this the 'Red Hat Lady' color way?"

[Off to order a new birth certificate...]

Comments

[Maureen]

Terribly low blow, the Red Hat comment. Totally uncalled for. Still, you wouldn't want anyone else to make that mistake. So, if you've decided that the Wollmeise isn't appropriate for a young person like you, I'm available and older - even older than your forged birth certificate, heck, my forged (to subtract, not add, years) birth certificate is even older than yours.

[Darcy]

Stunning Wollmeise I'm 41 and usually the oldest person in a room filled with people.lol Darcy

[Dorothy]

I often refer to myself as old and cranky. Lets me get away with a lot of fun stuff. Like telling someone off for being stupid and also turning down the dang radio at work. Honestly, how many times does a station need to play the same five songs in 7.5 hours?! So you know, if you can't think of what to do with that "Red Hat" colourway...

Also, love Girlfriend's newish chandelier.

[ali]

Hey girl, us Long Beach folks want to come visit your lys someday, I did the same with my birth cert. to work at McDonalds, but felt to guilty to go through with the job. Think I used typewriter eraser(nice) and my typewriter( Mannuel not electric even nicer)
Give Rocko a squeeze for me..
Ali

[Lizbon]

What a terrible thing to say about such a lovely colorway. I would have named it for fruits: plum & persimmon, perhaps.

[Jeanne B.]

Ohhhhh... love the yarn. Love the red and purple together.

[Harpa J]

"Red Hat" my *beeep*...
The yarn is lovely.

[Debbie]

Great, now I'm craving cold pizza for breakfast. Love pizza that way.

[kathleen]

I don't get the whole red hat thing it kind of bothers me. Anyway, I like the yarn it has a nice contrast.

[KB]

Oh for Pete's Sake and a Big Brass Band! (My Girl's favorite saying when people are being stupid. The Big Brass Band is from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang)

That's a beautiful hank of yarn. Knit on, I say.

I faked my age to work for Farrell's Pizza/Ice Cream Parlor down in the LB/Cerritos area way, way back in the day. Gotta love The Zoo!

[Carla]

I remember being "invited" to join Red Hats. Uh, thanks but no thanks. (Unfortunately this was years ago and I WAS old enough.) But besides my reluctance to wear a red hat, the purple and red really do pop against each other. Cool yarn.

[MonkeyGurrl]

Red Hat. HAH! I'm not (much) older than you, but I look it, and I *definitely* act it, so. . . :)

It's still beautiful. You will do something nice with it that will look lovely even if the colors were co-opted by the red-hat folk.

[Amanda]

i was just looking up wollmeise wondering what the hype was all about, and then i come to read your blog and see you have some now too! it's apparently amazing.

[BabyBeth]

I just started following your blog and I'm super intrigued by the weaving...could you point me in a good direction to start in? (Like I need another hobby)