philadelphia, born and raised

Remember when you used to go places…and see people?? I try not to think about it too much these days as I wander from my bedroom all the way to the kitchen, then back upstairs to the bedroom, then downstairs to the kitchen again. Today I visited my husband at the dining room table. And I might even make it to the curb to take out the recycling.

When we did go places, and visit relatives, we would very often go to Philadelphia to visit my in-laws. One of my husband’s most endearing qualities is the fact that he is from Philadelphia. I always hoped we would live there some day - but it was a cruel trick. We won’t. Luckily he’s also handsome and witty.

He grew up in a trinity house on a one block brick lane right in the middle of the city. It was the sweetest. Now that his parents have left, we still go out of our way to drive by Pat’s for a cheesesteak if we are headed south. Or stop by Federal Donuts for some fried chicken and donuts. But wait - Dizengoff has hummus bowls across the street. And you really can’t leave town before dropping in to Amada for tapas. But I digress. Every time I go to Philadelphia, I am gobsmacked by just how charming it is.

A few years ago we were staying in Old City and as I was taking pictures along our spring walkabout, I thought about knitting the images into a baby sweater. Cobblestone streets could be represented by moss stitch, the columns from the first bank could be stitched garter rib, and the flemish brickwork of Society Hill - a basketweave… It was a way to hold on to something dear to me. And that’s how Beebo was born. It was my first design.

Beebo is named, obviously, for Philadelphia’s most illustrious citizen, Benjamin Franklin. When he was little, Benny was quite restless. I imagine that when he asked his mother if he could go fly a kite, she said “Sure Beebo, but be careful out there. It looks like rain.” (0;