This was the scene when I stole out to the barn to snap some pix of Men's Craft Night in Richard's paper studio: Sitting around drinking wine.
There was a strong objection from the host about me calling it "Men's Craft Night."
"We are bookbinding," he declares in a most dignified voice.
He doesn't realize the panache "Men's Craft Night" would have in some circles.
Stuart, not wanting to disgrace the group, springs into action for the camera.
A couple hours later I return with Kitt (resident 13-year-old man-child), and it seems they have imbibed the necessary liquid fortification and satiated their needs for sharing and listening and they are repairing their broken books. John's was a cheese book, of course. His mother is a master cheese maker and his wife, Fran, is on her way to being one. I have some of her feta and herbed chevre in the fridge right now calling to me.
Kitt, being a minor, and I, being female, respectfully leave after a short visit. It may sound like I'm poking fun but I am chronicling this gathering here because I'm all for it. I have my own group of women friends who get together every month (more eating and talking than crafting) and it's such a wonderful thing in my life. I want the guys to have that kind of community, too.