making

Production is the regular pace at my parents' house. When I broke my elbow, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to finish this baby blanket I was making for one of my favorite pregnant girls (due not long after the wedding, making her a no-longer-a-bridesmaid), but I had forgotten how rapid crochet can be. This yarn is heavy and soft and should make an excellent winter snuggly. Her shower is this Saturday, so you can expect some warm and loving pictures of some of the most beautiful women I have in my life (and some I haven't seen in ages, which will surely be a happy reunion indeed).

My wedding dress is also taking shape. Of course, not without the Great Button Incident, but my mother reads this blog, and I will leave it at that. Just know this: living with your parents for three weeks in the wee months before your wedding is a strange and bizarre experience indeed, and teaching this theatre class has dropped it into my lap.

*

I am currently reading The Conscious Bride, (lent to me by the kind and very beautiful bride Emily) and have begun to consider some of the emotional changes that occur when you are to be married.

*

The Fiance and I are not in an ordinary situation--or maybe, our situation is the norm, and it's not ordinary according to history. We hit eight years of being together very soon, and we've owned a house together for nearly two years. The transition from single to married will not be a difficult one for me. I haven't had any stories to tell that can match a certain beloved friend's about nutty future in-laws (but The Fiance, on the other hand, could). Our friends have also had time to consider us as a more permanent couple, so I doubt any of my bridesmaids will do some strange sabotage art--confrontations, fits, melodramas. This was left behind when we departed high school (so we'd like to hope).

*

But lately I've begun to look at The Fiance a little differently, which I didn't know could happen so quickly. I've slowly evolved in my relationship with him, and I know I have become much more patient, calm, giving as I've known him. When I am here, and inside I am having troubles, I think of him: Ok, what would he do? and I'd close my eyes and count to ten and then I'd be fine. But in the past few weeks, I've found myself falling even deeper in love with him, which sounds so smooshy and cliche, but it's completely true: not only have I discovered how well he can whisk me off my feet and take me to gorgeous secret dates, but he's also become a phenomenal listener and even better best friend. I was recounting some adventures here, and instead of trying to fix it (oh boys, why must you always try to fix things?), he actually listened and comforted and then he made a lovely little joke which made me laugh so much, and it was exactly what I needed.

Because he's exactly what I need. I just get all shivery and giddy when I think that I get to marry him! How lucky is that?

And now, I will be attempting to knit my first shawl. This is the pattern I'll use, as it is the only pattern I have any hope to figure out without much hair pulling, though this pattern seems much prettier for the occasion. Their yarn color "lilac" looks very much so like "cornflower," the color of the bridesmaid dress (which are sitting in a rather large box in my living room, waiting to be distributed to my gorgeous bridesmaids).

*

I was going to spend my time whipping out soft little scarves and patchwork pillows for Eireann's auction, but it sounds like she's getting many more offers then she knows what to do with (check out the blogroll--some very impressive artists there) and has requested one item per person. I will make something sweet and focus on the difficulty of yarn overs and gauge (this is why square things and rectangular things are so loved by beginners--there is no concern over gauge, unless your square things must match up). I will also try not to feel awful as this was the shawl I had wanted to make for Kelly's wedding, but couldn't due to a certain musical that swallowed up all of my spare time and spare sanity.

* Sorry for all the little asterisks... blogger gets feisty and won't space between paragraphs and then we have to wrestle (like we did over the titles) and sometimes blogger wins. Sometimes I do. Maybe this is how I broke my elbow, not the running-with-dogs theory...