I have trouble with cozies
, crocheted and knitted covers for things that have no need of warmth. I saw this here
. I felt my blood pressure rise. Have they no mercy? I am haunted by visions of my future as an increasingly angry old woman, muttering bitterly to herself amidst peeling paint on the front porch, cursing all signs of knitting needles and crochet hooks.
Luckily for mankind the possibility of redemption is always with us. Even cozies can be saved by humor and art, our great redeeming capabilities. Along with kindness and forgiveness. (Oh yeah, and lactation.) Things can always get better. So it came to pass. First she
That's not all said the Ginzo knives salesman. The real saviours are here. Wrapping, cozying, shrouding, all have had their apogee. You may already be nodding your head, yes, yes. Uhuh. Christo. Jeanne-Claude. The Reichstag. Yeah. That.
Which turned into this.
Not a crochet hook in sight. Nothing twee, nothing fey. Maybe an approximation of cozying history.
Happy Easter. Happy Passover. Here's to forgiveness, kindness, redemption. And I guess to Cher's boobs, if anyone's in the mood.
Labels: ironic crafts