Guess it wasn't just my knickers that got twisted

by the article I referenced in my last post. Yeah, it's the lazy stereotyping (as magnusmog put it) that really bugged me, the too facile either-or setup.

So I say, ovenburners and non-ovenburners unite in knitterly sister(and brother)hood. If you're a good cook, I love you to death and please invite me for dinner. If you aren't a domestic goddess (or god), have me over for an instant cup of Joe. (I've never been able to do wine and knit, or I'd suggest a bottle of Two Buck Chuck). If you spin, all the better, I'll bring some of the dustbunnies along, already carded.

I don't want to drive my nice pointy sticks through any one's heart, just nail the spurious dichotomies.
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Today was my big day as substitute school secretary, and I'll write all about it tomorrow, promise. Right now I'm a very sleepy camper. (I am Woman, hear me snore).