Chickenlips Knitting

Mr. Stitchjones faithfully reads Willamette Week, a local free paper. Some may like Willy Week, but I don't, even though they have broken some major expose-type stories about local politicians in recent years. You know how it is, though; if it's laying around, you'll pick it up and read it. (Come on, we've all been in waiting rooms!) I think WW comes off as rather impressed with itself, journalistically speaking. Mind you, the equivalent of WW where I grew up was the Boston Phoenix, and right or wrong, my cultural bias remains.

I read something in this week's edition of WW which pissed me off, like, epic. Their cover piece "The Young and the Jobless" featured interviews with twentysomethings, and one 24-year-old woman (who is now employed, so technically doesn't qualify) said she took to knitting while job-hunting. Great, I thought. Then I read how she lamented the absence of people her own age in Portland. Nothing wrong with that, I thought. Then I read the last sentence. Her knitting group, "more often than not, has people my mom's age".

GRRRRR!!!

Yes, that's right. Poor lamb. Face time with fossils, how it must suck to be her. We obsolete, hopelessly out of touch knitters have absolutely nothing to offer Miss Thing, do we? Why, biddies and fusspots like us could never be social networkers and professional contacts, much less vast resources of information on all manner of fiber arts. Never could we be forces to be reckoned with, and we certainly would never do anything so audacious as to start our own businesses, carve our own niches, do whatever it takes to succeed and make our mark, and just generally kick ass and take names. We should just stay home, seeing as how we're such a blight on the so-young-and-hip-it-hurts social landscape of Portland, OR. How reassuring that demographics are apparently everything to this member of Generation Z. Don't worry dearie; menopause isn't contagious!

Willamette Week, who needs it?

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Ahhh. That's more like it. Nothing makes me feel more alive than a good drip of sarcasm! And nobody needs a T-shirt that says, "51% sweetheart, 49% bitch, don't push it" more than me. So just to show you that I'm more sweetheart than bitch, without further ado, I'm going to announce the winner of the Name That Colorway contest.

The winner is: Bluebird49. In the immortal words of Socrates, who said, "I drank what?" the hand-dyed green sport yarn now has a name, and it is "Hemlock". You suggested "Socrates Shake" for a name, but said the color reminded you of Hemlock, and that nails it. You've won a Stitchjones gift certificate for $25. Email me at sharon AT stitchjones DOT com, and I'll send you info on how to claim your prize. Congratulations, Bluebird49, and thank you all for playing! Your suggestions were absolutely wonderful.