Friday nite. Age 17.
Sneaking out of my bedroom window, thru the dog run, over the chainlink fence, past mom's window and thru the side gate... rolling the car out of driveway without turning the engine over, hoping i wouldn't run into the bushes and cable tv box like mom did the time the cops came. Picking up friends, sodas, sampoerna extras for the 2 hour drive to an la warehouse... anonymous speakerhumping in pantlegs always heavy with club and desert scenes. Back in again at dawn, stinking and glittersmeared, asleep almost as fast as I drove down that pass every weekend.
Friday nite. Age 21.
Unisex bathrooms in the dorms, the perfect place for rounding up and down with soon-to-be ex-boy and girlfriends. One campus bar, then another, then another... stumbling into Blondies or the food ghetto on Durant (the closest many of us public school kids would get to the gourmet ghetto, on the other side of campus), praying a slice or a burrito would calm the rage in our stomachs and mouths. 2 deep we fell into the ancient couches in the lounge, leaving some to play Jerry Springer drinking games... hoping there was enough time to pair up and down while our roommates curled up and took a shot with each passing profanity.
Friday nite. Age 25.
Big pregnant, accidentally pregnant... cradling my stomach in my arms, whispering secrets to my son still inside. Secrets I'd never share had he been able to understand, loving the whispering in the reeds possibility of life, of the biggest littlest love of my life, the biggest sweetest trap. Terrified that nothing would be the same, savoring the new, sharp understanding of what it is to be alone... and that I had been for a very long time. No more time for the existential drama, postmodern angst of self. Time to do something huge, be the best, become a better, stronger person than I'd ever imagined possible.
Friday nite. Age 29.
Sneaking out of the room where the love of my life sleeps, finally no more protests for nursing... just a sweet profile lit with my opening of the door. Alone, but not the alone of youth, rolling fingers and hands thru and thru. Silence broken by the gentle rocking of the Joy, the whir of singles off of the Kate, my own heart as I allow my mind to wander over everything... especially those places I dare not wander in the daytime.
Its a good life.
navajo plied yarns. greyish pinkish: 70/30 merino-tussah silk, red/black: fiberfiend.com superwash merino in "mars". both rovings purchased at stitches west 2007.
Sneaking out of my bedroom window, thru the dog run, over the chainlink fence, past mom's window and thru the side gate... rolling the car out of driveway without turning the engine over, hoping i wouldn't run into the bushes and cable tv box like mom did the time the cops came. Picking up friends, sodas, sampoerna extras for the 2 hour drive to an la warehouse... anonymous speakerhumping in pantlegs always heavy with club and desert scenes. Back in again at dawn, stinking and glittersmeared, asleep almost as fast as I drove down that pass every weekend.
Friday nite. Age 21.
Unisex bathrooms in the dorms, the perfect place for rounding up and down with soon-to-be ex-boy and girlfriends. One campus bar, then another, then another... stumbling into Blondies or the food ghetto on Durant (the closest many of us public school kids would get to the gourmet ghetto, on the other side of campus), praying a slice or a burrito would calm the rage in our stomachs and mouths. 2 deep we fell into the ancient couches in the lounge, leaving some to play Jerry Springer drinking games... hoping there was enough time to pair up and down while our roommates curled up and took a shot with each passing profanity.
Friday nite. Age 25.
Big pregnant, accidentally pregnant... cradling my stomach in my arms, whispering secrets to my son still inside. Secrets I'd never share had he been able to understand, loving the whispering in the reeds possibility of life, of the biggest littlest love of my life, the biggest sweetest trap. Terrified that nothing would be the same, savoring the new, sharp understanding of what it is to be alone... and that I had been for a very long time. No more time for the existential drama, postmodern angst of self. Time to do something huge, be the best, become a better, stronger person than I'd ever imagined possible.
Friday nite. Age 29.
Sneaking out of the room where the love of my life sleeps, finally no more protests for nursing... just a sweet profile lit with my opening of the door. Alone, but not the alone of youth, rolling fingers and hands thru and thru. Silence broken by the gentle rocking of the Joy, the whir of singles off of the Kate, my own heart as I allow my mind to wander over everything... especially those places I dare not wander in the daytime.
Its a good life.
navajo plied yarns. greyish pinkish: 70/30 merino-tussah silk, red/black: fiberfiend.com superwash merino in "mars". both rovings purchased at stitches west 2007.
32 comments:
Wow. Beautifully written.
I would not trade a Friday in with my son and husband for any other thing in the world. Priceless.
Very lovely - thanks for sharing.
You have no idea how much I needed to read that right now. Thank you.
Beautiful. All of it. :)
Beautiful and moving.
How lovely, thank you
Beauty. The story and the yarn spun from it. You make me smile.
Beautiful writing.
(my first thought before reading the other commenters)
Brillant!!
I so understand that love of the little one you speak of. There is nothing like it in the world. Even though your life is completely changed, I wouldn't change it for the world.
Thanks for sharing. The yarn is beautiful.
HEY Sock PrOn
This is Charles. Did you see
Cashmereblend website?
http://cashmereblend.blogspot.com/
Our stitch marker piced togeter eachother!!!
Does spinning yarns are great!!!
I want to send you something..email me!
Charles
Well written - I so wish I hung with you on Fridays when you were 17 - I was such a goob and wished I would have snuck out at least once ;)
That was so beautiful. Thanks for sharing with us.
*sighhh* from one mummy to another well done girl you have done the most amazing thing possible ever!! Nothing sweeter than peaceful sleeping babes and time to craft!
As my Mom always says; "Ages and stages."
Enjoy each one!
That's beautiful. Thanks for sharing it with all of us.
Amazing how over the years, our Friday Nite events change! Beautiful spinning! :)
spinning poetry- very moving.I relate, and I know about being alone- but not being lonely! having fiber in our life- priceless!
:-)
what a great timetable - funny how life changes.....
Very nicely done!
Very lovely written, especially for some thoughts that are not necessarily easy to relive, to get to the part that is. Thank you for sharing them.
Wonderfully written.
This was a really beautiful post. Thanks for sharing it. (geez, I sound like a broken record, huh? but, even if repeated, worth saying)
Nice the way you write and spin, Aija. Life is good and the past now seems like a movie to me now ... emmmm, you ever feel that way now that you're a Mommy & think of the past? I'm in a different life once again, now that mine are grown up and with their own children. But life is still good and even better!
well sung, well spun. Lovely diddy and a local girl! Blondies late in the night. Yeah.
Glad tidings to good timings.
Wow what I would do to be able to express myself as beautifully as you did. I am sure there are at least hundreds of women out there who have felt just thet way. Amazing how life evolves and how we grow. Loved sneaking out, loved college, loved preganancy, but nothing compares to the babe....and spinning. Me too. Thank you for sharing -Stacy
Lovely post and lovely pictures. Funny how those little ones come into your life, expected or not, and make it completely different and better.
Beautiful, Aija!
I've set up an account for the mag. We won't be sending any mail from there, but you're welcome to send any/all links along - they don't even have to be knitting related - (video game characters welcome! :))
K?
K.
Just use the above name @yahoo.com.
P.S. You shouldn't write stuff like this -you make me want to get knocked up- or at least eat pizza! Either way I lose my girlish figure :)!
Wow, I'm stunned. Fantastic.
Love it.
Love that you're spinning your love now too.
Somehow spinning sings to my soul in an entirely different way than the knitting, or designing.
Lovely words, thank-you.
How wonderfully touching. There is nothing like looking back at who we all used to be and celebrating the joys of how we have changed and the wonderful little people who have come into our life and being at peace with ourselves. Thank you so much for sharing!
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