I am not shy about calling myself a feminist. It's one of those words or phrases, like "liberal" and "activist" and "free speech" and "choice" that has been painted with a tarred brush by people not fit to lick the stone soles of Lady Liberty. I get pissed off about gender imbalance in cartoons (Animaniacs, Backyardigans, Toy Story, you name it, all project a false world where males outnumber females- though I admit that having been brought up on Smurfs, all is relative). The Pottery Barn Kids catalog sends me over the edge. During a recent spate of "Deadwood" watching, Mr. Frick has dealt quite admirably with my campaign to Take Back the Vagina by peppering our conversation liberally with those spicy c- and s- words that those mustachioed spur-janglers employ as adjective, verb, and all-purpose invective.
So one might find it ironic that I long for another boy. The idea of saying "my boys" just fills me with excitement, while the very thought of "my adolescent daughter" gives me hives. Maybe it's because I know the power of karma. I know how mean girls can be to their mothers. What are a couple of awkward laundry moments compared to the over-identification-resulting-in-reflected-self-loathing phenomenon? Yes, I know I'm over-simplifying. Yes, I love my mother to distraction and have no idea what I'd do without her. I'm just surprised she's still as nice to me as she is, considering those middle school years.
And I know I'm among The Chosen here, so I can freely say what the non-knitter would find absolutely ridiculous. Here is the one thing that makes me long for a girl: this. Oh, and the fact that once I knit this absolutely lovely little matinee coat with smocking and a fair isle border for no good reason, and it has been sitting in a closet for years. Years! Just waiting for a deserving little body to dress it in. (Above photo is of said knit, and while it is not technically a Knits '07 FO, I will put it in that album because the poor thing has been ready for its close-up for years, and you might want details.)
Meanwhile, I've developed a new knitting addiction. While you do spy new booties (Christy! Look what your leftovers made!) to add to the growing pile, there's a new sheriff in Fricktown. Here's a hint- two of them, hot off the needles, just wanting a bit of finishing:
M1's and double-decreases and cast-offs in purl, that's what little sweaters are made of...