Pink meant girlie things - frilly dresses, dolls, clean socks. I did not like dresses (although I had a short love affair with a dress worn by a girl sitting next to me in second grade. It had a blow-up inner tube that made the skirt stand out like an umbrella. She was mean to me, so I stuck it with a pin when she wasn't looking and the best she could do was a semi-inflation. Which was not attractive.) I refused to wear pink right into adulthood. I did, however, knit myself a lovely alpaca scarf in what I refer to as "rose". There was quite a bit of rationalization involved.
I am now embracing the pinkness of pink.
|My friend, Maggie.|
The second hat came off the needles yesterday and will be winging its way to a total stranger today. I like the idea that, while I cannot take my place beside the marchers, a little bit of pink, of my making, will be bobbing along with thousands of other bits of pink, creating an entire ocean of pink. It gives me goosebumps just to think about it.
|Lunch time knitting - off the needles.|