the worth of our work

Well, look-a here. Just a little something I finished up this past weekend. In case you're wondering what the heck this thing is, it's a hot water bottle cover. From a pattern aptly named "Haworth" (extra points if you catch that reference). 

All nestled up with the afghan my Grandma knit for our wedding gift.

What a pretty little thing. So hilariously decorative and ridiculous. Reminds me of Aurora Leigh (1856), the epic poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning which explores the confinement of women to the domestic sphere in the 19th century:

The works of women are symbolical.

We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight,

Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir,

To put on when you're weary — or a stool

To stumble over and vex you . . . "curse that stool!"

Or else at best, a cushion, where you lean

And sleep, and dream of something we are not,

But would be for your sake. Alas, alas!

This hurts most, this . . . that, after all, we are paid

The worth of our work, perhaps. [lines 457-65]

If you care to hear my opinions on why these old-fashioned handcrafts are back in style in our so-called "post-feminist" world, you could brew a pot of coffee, prop your eyelids open with some toothpicks, and read my book. Feels like I wrote that thing in another life. I still think a lot about those ideas, though, especially when I'm happily whipping up some domestic mayhem.

Well, it may be a silly little thing but I had a wonderful time making it. And it felt awfully cozy on my toes last night.