knitting vs. dessert

I tried to comment in response to Franklin's comment on my last post, but you can't put images in comments. So go read Franklin's comment and then here's my response:

She was knitting on the chartreuse poncho-thing for Ang (she described it on her blog) and dessert was a fat-free ice-cream sandwich. So I guess you have a point. (no pun intended)(get it? needles, point? Okay fine, pun intended, but only after the fact).

swanky hi-fashion poncho-thing	.....versus.....	fat-free ice cream sandwich
You be the judge.

Speaking of knitting, did anyone else read that Interweave Knits piece (the last page of the summer 2005 issue) by the unfortunate woman who outed her husband to everyone in the universe except, apparently, her own dense self?

Let's see...he goes by "Michael," not Mike; he "couldn't be more accommodating" about housework and cooking (she throws in car repair but I think she's lying); and here is her description of his sweater preferences:

He wants a garment that he wouldn't be ashamed to wear on the streets of Milan or Paris. When I think sweater, I see a bulky, oversized swath of comfort knitting. When he thinks sweater, he sees a fine-gauge creation with fancy lapels and leather trim.

Leather trim??? "Oh you poor dear," I think to myself.

Because of his pickiness, the author is delighted when Michael-not-Mike decides to take up knitting his own fancy lapels. She escorts him to the yarn shop, where he dithers over "mohair, lopi, or merino?" before selecting "an elegant silk-cashmere."

Hmmmmm.

And what, dear readers, is this gentleman's first project?

Well, he thinks scarves are too boring, so he "decide[s] to adapt a wraparound poncho [the author] had once made, scaling it down for a more tailored fit around his shoulders."

In other words, Micahel's first project is a self-designed mini-poncho.

By the time I'm done with the rest of the article—which primarily consists of a description of how wild and adventurous he is and how tranditional and safe she is—I'm ready to send her five pounds of brownies and the number of my old therapist in New York.

But enough about knitting (and related topics). It's like we've all been abducted into some kind of bizarre knitting cult or something. As if blogging weren't bad enough.

Except, of course, that knitting results in delectable items of clothing for myself and my loved ones, so... who's complaining? Maybe Loopy wants an ice-cream sandwich, or a hot water bottle or something. I'll just run see about that...