Dishtowels need love, too

Dishtowels

Hemp dishtowels, yarn from LanaKnits in Dijon and Pumpkin

Four interminable hours on an aircraft affords plenty of leisure to sit and contemplate one’s knitting. Plaudits to Air Canada for their in-flight entertainment system, which allows a choice of films, TV shows and audio offerings (unlike United, which showed that moronic-waste-of-A-list talent, National Treasure on the in-bound flight).

Knowing Mitch wasn’t terribly interested, I selected Atonement to accompany my knitting. Lovely, but with that dire soundtrack, things were bound to end badly. (Had I been alone, I would have been scream-crying in full voice by the end). It did, however, allow me to grind out the conclusion to the mustard dishtowel. Both are in desperate need of blocking; I’m thinking a wash and set to soften up the hemp.

Anyway, it’s good to be back on native soil. We’re a noisy, boisterous people, whereas Canadians generally seem softspoken and polite (unless you invoke hockey, the national religion). I felt loud and conspicuous and hard-of-hearing.

Interesting—per capita they have a lot more land, but we seem to take up more psychic space.

Comments (1) -

April 10. 2008 08:55

N/A

Obviously Antone is interested in your dishtowels. Do you still have them . . . i.e., as dishtowels, and not reconverted into yarn, albeit shorter bits?

Deborah Robson |

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