There is something inherently wonderful about a group of women sitting around a table making stuff. I was reminded of this simple fact today when I participated in a crafternoon at my friend K’s house.

K had a few of her belly-dancing friends over – they have a performance coming up, and they’re making their own costumes! I, being belly-dance-bereft, decided it was a good opportunity to bring along a whole lotta mending I needed to get done. The pile was growing, and some of my favourite dresses have been unwearable for far too long!

What can sometimes be a tedious chore flew by amongst good conversation, laughter, cookies and tea. I was done before I knew it, and spent the rest of the afternoon adding to my never-ending pile of granny-squares.

I also came away with the solemn desire to never, ever, ever try to sew decals onto stretch fabric… oy!

Alas, afternoons like these are few and far between. Living out in the country, with nary a friend nearby, it’s a rare opportunity to get together with like-minded gals for an afternoon of simple fun.

Days like this never cease to make me think of all the women in all the generations before me who have done exactly the same thing. I have visions of Austen novels dancing in my head – back when there was no TV, computers, or radio – where working with your hands and sharing conversation were both touchstones of life.

As grateful as I am for the modern glory of social media (waves to my tweeps) that keeps me sane and connected to the world, there really is no replacement for the camaraderie of women sitting around a table together, sharing stories, thoughts and giggles, while the day draws long and evening falls, and the time passes without notice.

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