Adrienne's Salon

For the past few days, I've been writing to you in my head, dear reader. I've been avoiding the computer--or pretending to--in order to clean the house--or pretend to--in preparation for the "salon." (I love that; it seems so French and modernist and sophisticated. I like to pretend that I am sophisticated.) I have three posts but I am going to give them to you backwards, most recent first.

Adrienne's visit was a treat. About 13 people gathered in my tiny living room. The range in ages was great as were the geographical locations. Two women drove up from coastal Maryland (three hours) and of course Lee came all the way from Pittsburgh even if she pretended only to come from Philadelphia where she was visiting her mother. Mostly knitters, as you would expect, three cross-stitchers, a seamstress (better than a sewer), and a crocheter. And spinners! One woman spins directly from her rabbit. (I'm easy to impress.) We had a free-ranging discussion.

Adrienne asked me to remind her to take photos. So I took one. The woman in the pink is newly-famous Anj, the steek cutter. (If you took photos, have pity on Adrienne and me: please send.)

Adrienne herself is delightful. If I closed my eyes and squinted my ears, she reminded me of bestpal. They use some of the same phrases and have some of the same stances on things. Maybe we're kind of like planets and our gravity attracts certain kind of um, other planets into our universes. Okay that was a weird simile. But I think you get the idea.

Speaking of the "wrong voice," it was kind of funny to hear Adrienne read because when I read the book, I had a different voice in my head reading it to me. (Neither hers nor mine.) When I went to see Lorrie Moore read A Gate at the Stairs, she talked about having the character's voices in her head but not being able to replicate them when she read so she was always reading in the wrong voice. Yeah, I just compared myself to one of America's great short story writers. Something's gone to my head.

I would like to say that my brownies (a Katharine Hepburn recipe) or lemon bars were a hit, but my cousin's cake (pictured) stole the show. I should do a post on her cakes because she is so talented. She's our family Ace of Cakes. Only much prettier. And you never worry whether she'll make it in time. She's a good scheduler.

Speaking of scheduling...I couldn't hide my crazy for the whole time Adrienne was here, and I'm sorry to say that I actually waved a knife in her face while I was ranting about the casual understanding most people have of RSVPs. People, it's a commitment. You can't cancel the day of for vague reasons. (I probably would be a nicer person if I cut people more slack. But here's a thought, "I'd love to come to your party, but work is hectic this time of year. I'm going to have to say no." And then your host can say, "well, why don't you let me know on Wednesday how things look," if she's willing to be flexible. She gets to decide because she is doing the hard work, not you. Still you should be prepared to miss many a dinner party. "Maybe" simply isn't an option.)

In my defense, the knife was plastic.

Adrienne is a lovely guest who goes with the flow but uses remarkably little water. You should invite her 'round.