Dish rags for everyone. Last night, in a small attempt on my part to break through the isolation of serving in the nursery, I attended a Relief Society crochet class. These classes (or get togethers) will take place once a month with fun new patterns each month. I must admit that when I first found out that we would be making dish rags this month I was not thrilled by the notion. I mean, I can purchase them cheaper already complete than I can by purchasing the materials and spending my time making them. But I figured that it was a good first step in learning how to crochet. I was the first to arrive (and I was 10 minutes late) and didn't have the correct materials (not my fault--being isolated in nursery no one told me until it was too late that the list of supplies had changed from what was originally announced) but it all worked out thanks to some lovely sisters in my ward. One funny near-mishap nearly occurred when I was asked how much experience I had and I was on the cusp of replying that I was a crochet virgin, but one look at the woman that asked me and I knew that kind of a comment would not be appreciated. I was the youngest one there by about 20 years so I can't exactly say that the evening was roaring fun, but it was enjoyable. Much of the conversation of the evening revolved around female operations (by which I believe they meant hysterectomies) and people who had died and were perhaps in the process of dying. At one point one of the sweet women mentioned that I was very quiet and while I wanted to point out that I don't really have any experience with hysterectomies, I merely claimed that I need to concentrate or I would lose what I was doing--which wasn't a lie. I think next time, though, I will try to recruit someone a bit closer to my age. So who wants a dish rag?