A day off from work smack in the middle of the week is almost better than a week of vacation in my book. I got up at the usual weekday time, did a few chores, a few loads of laundry, a few laps around the house with the swiffer, and then headed out to see the Jane Austen exhibit at the Morgan Library.  Have you been to the Morgan? I had never been.  It has the most exquisite elevator in NYC, all glass with a wooden floor.  It got me to the second floor but I felt elevated by the whole thing.

The show is a collection of Jane Austen’s actual letters written in her actual handwriting, along with some of her own library books.  I’ve read everything she has written dozens of times and I came to accept that this is all there is, my friends.  But these letters were all new!  All new Jane! Her own stuff!  There were screams of joy in the gallery from all the other Jane Austen fans as they shoved their way from letter to letter, from book to book.  Well, maybe the screams were politely muffled in brightly colored pashmina shawls and maybe the shoving was just museum goers standing a little too close to each other and the exhibits, but still, it was a like a rave.  A Jane Austen Rave.

Read the letters yourself here.  In fact, read them for hours like I have been doing since I got home.

You can tell from reading these letters that all Jane Austen’s friends thought she was beast, the kind of woman you’d totally invite over to your house for six or seven hours of hardcore knitting and red wine drinking.  Its a good thing I already know wimmin like that already! Over the weekend some of the knitting group knitters came over here to the Mile Square City to keep my company while Emily was away researching colleges.  November is the start of the professional knitting season and I think we made some good progress on a variety of projects, and I know one lucky chihuahua looks sharp on this cold day thanks to Lynn.

I , sadly,  had to rip out every thing I knitted due to KUI (knitting under the influence).