The Master Weaver

I didn't mind the rain, though I think it made Bjorn somewhat crazy. Every day, when I woke to the sound of rain pouring on the roof, I felt like a kid who has woken to a foot of snow on his front yard. SNOW DAY! The rain didn't mean that we didn't work, exactly, but it did mean that we didn't work very hard. We would spend a couple hours after breakfast doing odd chores around the house (vacuuming, dusting), and then we'd basically serve as Biddy's companion for whatever it was she needed to do. We went with her on a road trip to Invercargill one day, where we helped her disassemble an antique weaving loom she was buying off someone. We ran all of her other city errands with her and then were treated to a nice lunch at the local art museum!

The third rainy day was Tuesday, which meant Biddy had to spend the entire day at the meeting of the Gore Spinning and Weaving Club, of which she is the president. The Gore Spinning and Weaving Club meets in a small building on the local fairgrounds. They are somehow an important enough club that they have this room all to themselves, and only have to lend it to the Fishing Club twice a month. Because it is theirs, they have covered the bland, white brick walls with photos of finished products, and tables around the room overflow with show and tell displays. Look what I made!

At their monthly meetings, which last from 10 AM to 4 PM, the members bring in their spinning wheels,weaving looms, and knitting projects, sit in a large circle and spend the whole day working on their crafts, talking, watching educational videos about spinning and weaving. Sounds exciting, no? Not knowing what else to do with us, Biddy dragged us along with her. The night before, at the prospect of attending the meeting, Bjorn said he'd rather go out on the farm and pull up the thistles (one of our ongoing tasks) in the pouring rain than go sit around with the old ladies.

Not only did he go to the spinning club meeting, but Biddy had planned a special activity for him. "Wouldn't you like to try weaving, Bjorn?" she asked him. Unable to disappoint our host, he, of course, said, "Why, yes! I'll give it a try!" So while I sat in the circle of ladies, mindlessly knitting away at a hat, a woman named Lois sat outside of the circle with Bjorn, helping him get the weaving loom set up.

Well, having a young Swedish male at the monthly meeting of the Gore Spinning and Weaving Club just tickled these ladies to pieces. After he'd gotten a few inches into the scarf he was making, the ladies started passing by, one by one. "Oh! Would you all just LOOK at what he is doing! It is BEAUTIFUL!" Bjorn was the talk of the day. "It's just aMAZing what he is doing over there," they'd say to each other.

Bjorn finsihed up his scarf later that day, and as the rainy week wore on, Biddy had him weaving all week. He finished three scarves in three days, which, as far as Biddy was concerned, was the greatest accomplishment ever made by anyone ever. She was just smitten with Bjorn. I swear, she had a crush on him. She'd sit and watch him weaving and just have this silly grin on her face. Her friends would call on the phone, and all she would talk about was the boy wonder who was living in her home. The master weaver. I must have heard her tell the story of male weaver about 10 times over our last week there, and well, it got a little old.

I'm the first to admit that I suffered a large case of second child syndrome that week. While Bjorn was soaking up all of this praise, I was working on some of the best knitting I've ever done and getting literally ZERO recognition for it. I don't know whether Biddy wasn't interested in me because I came to her already knowing how to knit (though I have PLENTY I need to learn) and she didn't feel could be her best teacher self or what. Bjorn said he thought it was merely because I was a girl, and in Biddy's old-fashioned vision of the world, I was SUPPOSED to be good at this sort of thing. My good knitting wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But a boy who could weave? Now, THAT was something special. It all made me completely crazy.

By the time we left Gore, I was just out of my skin with irritation at Biddy. Our last night there happened to be Bjorn's birthday, so I made him a lovely carrot cake for our final dinner. Biddy invited her daughter and her family over to join us so it would feel like a real celebration. That afternoon, as I was icing my cake, Biddy was puttering around the kitchen. "Now I'm just going to whip up some of my mereingues, and I made some ice cream earlier..." WHAT? I thought. This woman is completely aware that I have made an entire CAKE, and she's making extra desserts? The cake was plenty big for everyone. It was not necessary.

I left the kitchen very close to being in tears. Why will this woman not let me be good at ANYthing? I wondered. WHY can I not even make a stupid cake for my boyfriend's birthday without her trying to steal my thunder? I felt so childish and immature. I knew I was being stupid, but just couldn't make myself shrug it off. I told Bjorn that I felt about her the way I imagined some people feel about their mothers-in-law.

Luckily, my carrot cake was deeeelish, if I do say so myself. (I was terrified that Biddy had thought maybe she should make some desserts just in case mine was inedible - and what if my cake was inedible?!) Bjorn had a lovely birthday, and we said our goodbyes to Biddy and Russell and Gore the next day.