We are an old fashioned “knitting bee.” We meet on Thursday nights in the lobby of a
church in Charlevoix. We range in age from 11ish to 60-something. We knit (or crochet) tell stories, laugh,
relax, and unwind. A friend of mine
invited me to this knitting group a year or so ago. The ladies who attend are a
mismatched set of individuals with the same common goal; to make stuff. Some of
us aren’t very good at it, some are absolute beginners, and some are advanced,
with yarn collections that could put you in awe. Only a few attend every week
without fail, but we keep in contact about who is going to try and make it with
our weekly Facebook messenger thread that not only includes who is coming, but
who needs thoughts, prayers, or hugs.
The dictionary definition for a bee is:
(noun) a
social gathering for a specific purpose,
as to carry out a communal task or hold competitions: a quilting bee
I am guessing that the “hold competitions” part refers to
things like spelling bees. We don’t do any competing. We do begin each week
with our little “show and tell” of projects we have completed. Stacey usually
has the most to show. And then we show what we are working on this week. If Carrol
comes, she is our resident expert in both knitting and crochet and helps those
who need it. She usually brings skeins of cool yarn she has recently added to
her collection. Greer is the youngest of our group and one of the regulars, who
doesn’t seem to even notice that she’s the only youngster among moms and
grandmas (although sometimes she does bring a friend). Not to mention that her
knitting skills could put any one of us to shame. There are many Thursday nights that I don’t
make it. Most of the time I am just too doggone tired from the stress and
business of my everyday life, which is exactly the reason I should go. When I
do make it, I find a spot at the round table where I can get ahead on a project
without distraction from the pile of dishes that need to be washed or papers
that need to be corrected. I can chat with or listen to a group of ladies with
whom I have at least one thing in common. I may not see them at any other time
during the week, but when we get together in that lobby, around that table,
with our yarn and our stories, we are friends.
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