Sunday, September 13, 2009

A Shrug Grows in Brooklyn.

Interesting weekend in celebration of the upcoming nuptials of friend J to her darling Lance.* Conversation and laughter ebbed and flowed, accompanied by good wine, good food, and good friends. I participated in conversation where I felt I could add something, sampled the wine, enjoyed the food greatly, and met some lovely new people.

I'm not certain why; call me oblivious. We went to Brooklyn for this party and we went on a sunset cruise around Manhattan. It was cloudy and grey, and I spent most of my energy working on a new sock,** answering knitting questions, and worrying about my lack of swimming skills.*** For some reason, it just never occurred to me that it would happen. Then I looked up, and, in the mist, far away, I saw something. I couldn't believe my eyes, and I asked if that was what I thought it was. Given confirmation, I promptly became an overeager child, waiting for a clearer view. The boat grew closer and turned just a little bit. Just enough that I could no longer see what I was waiting with baited breath to see. Here's what I could see, looking at me through the clouds resting quietly on the water.

Then there was this.

Between my camera and my blackberry, I couldn't take enough pictures of everything. This was a mammoth moment for me. Huge. You see, even after over 3 decades of life on the East Coast and having been to NYC numerous times on various trips, I simply had never ever seen her. Not up close where you can see her features and the drapes of her gown. Not so near that you can feel the benevolence flowing from her gaze down onto you. I squealed like a little girl. I jumped up and down on my seat. I took picture after picture and sent them to GF and my brother. I was infectious (I'm told) in my glee. I was wholly unashamed.

Returning to my normally wry and generally quiet self, I passed through the rest of the evening of more talk, wine and food. I waited for quiet. Bit by bit, everyone dropped off and went to sleep. I had a great talk with my friend, Star, and didn't sleep until really late. Then, because I'm naturally an early riser and because I don't sleep well anywhere but at home, I got up quite early in the morning. I went into the kitchen and took out the shrug to work on it.

Over time, people woke and found their way into the kitchen for coffee (or water) and more conversation.**** Eventually, the kitchen was full, and some remarkably smart people suggested the party move to better accommodations. The hostess, B, stayed in the kitchen. I also stayed, furiously knitting and beading as breakfast preparations went on around me. I did offer to help, but B seemed happy working on her own. I didn't want to mess with her flow, so I stayed out of the way and chatted. All the while, the shrug piece grew. Until, with remarkable timing, I finished the last row of the beaded section just as breakfast was ready to go.

All in all? We got the fabric for the dress to go with the shrug (il est délicieux), we partied, we rested, we ate, we hung out, and we came home. Did I enjoy myself? I have a natural reluctance to be a part of overnight gatherings, but I had fun despite myself. The bride? She seemed tired and I hope she had fun. She assures me she did.

*Just doesn't flow as well, does it, J?
** Of course I took the shrug. Read the title. But I was working on a beaded section. Can you imagine - taking a canister of teeny tiny seed pearl beads onto a rocking boat? And trying to get even a single of those beads onto an equally teeny tiny hook and then onto a very small loop of very thin yarn?? Neither could I. That's why I started socks that I'll blog about later.

*** Yes, I'm 32. No, I don't know how to swim. Shut up.
**** Seriously? These people could TALK.

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