An Interview and Other Things . . .

A woman called early this week and said she had been given my name by the library. Would I be interested in being interviewed about my knitting? Since I'm always interested in spreading the word, I said yes.

It turns out, the interview was for a project of the Indiana Historical Society -- Traditional Arts Indiana. They want to document how people learned their craft, why they participate in the activity, etc. It was all very official, with a microphone, tape recorder and release papers.

Ilke, the interviewer, had just come from a maple sugar farm in another part of the county, and after my interview, was to visit a neighbor of ours who preserves and presses wild flowers.

I borrowed back the Pi Shawl I had made for Griffin's baptism, and gathered a few other things. She asked questions for about an hour, then she took some pictures -- I would have put on some make-up and a nice sweater if I had known that! Luckily, she took most of the photographs close up on my hands -- action shots, she said. She also took some pictures of the crazy quilt, and seemed interested in the story behind our group effort.

She had a little time in between interviews, so I suggested she go talk to Judy, my favorite shepherdess, whose story is much more interesting than mine. When we drove out to the farm, one of the llamas was in the front pasture to greet us. Judy spins the fiber from their sheep, goats, rabbits and llamas; I am anxious to hear what she thought about the interview.

Tuesday evening, Will had a dual meet at home against a team from Hanover. When the other team came out, one of the coaches asked, "Who has Hulk Hogan?" Will said, "That would be me." The kid threw a headlock seconds into the match -- we think it was about 14 seconds until the pin, but it was over so fast and with such violent force that I forgot to look -- I was kind of busy trying not to scream.

After the match, we found out that this was just another in the long line of state qualifiers that Will has wrestled this season, and he's getting just a little tired of it -- the Hanover opponent has gone to state 3 -- count 'em-- 3 times.

Wednesday, Clay took the day off, and we decided to go to the Story Inn for an anniversary lunch. Story is a rustic little town in the middle of nowhere with a gourmet restaurant. Unfortunately, neither of us had much money, and they didn't take American Express, the only card we had between us. Brilliant, I know. So we drove into Nashville, had lunch at a cute little place and poked around in a few of the shops.

I wanted to get Clay something really great for our 25th -- usually, we just get each other a book or CD -- one time, we even got each other the same CD. So when he mentioned a
GPS, I knew what to get. The best thing is, it was silver. He got me a beautiful diamond circle necklace. Joe the Jeweler tried to convince him I needed diamond earrings, but I don't have such a good track record with earrings -- lots of singles in my jewelry box waiting for the day to be reunited with their mates.

Thursday was my 48th birthday. Sarah and the boys came down for birthday supper, and we lit the candle on my cake 6 times for the boys to blow out. I made meatloaf, not exactly one of my specialties, but something everyone likes. I never make it the same way twice. This time, I didn't have a can of diced tomatoes in the pantry -- I did have a can of diced tomatoes with green chilies, and tried that -- Clay has suggested we make it that way from now on.

In more wrestling news, this weekend is the Hoosier Hills Conference Championships. Will has 2 dual meets at Columbus on Friday night, and then 5 dual meets at Jeffersonville on Saturday. So, I guess I'll be getting some knitting done.

Peace

Silver Anniversary Day

Wow. And peace.

What a Headache!

After the initial bouts of nausea, light-headedness and falling down, I am happy to report that it is mostly gone.

I am unhappy to report that Clay yelled at me. (I say "yell"; he says "spoke to firmly." I say, yelling is in the ear of the hearer.)

This time, it was after I had a little collapse onto the family room floor the night before Thanksgiving.

"You have got to slow down," he yelled/spoke firmly. "Things don't have to be perfect. You do a great job. Thanksgiving will be great no matter how clean the house is."

When I told him that all this yelling was making my head hurt worse, he added this kicker:

"I need you to take care of yourself."

And as usual, (which really ticks me off) he was right: we had a nice dinner and a good time together, even though the steps weren't swept and I saw a couple of places I missed dusting.

So, I am happy to report, I took his advice, and slowed down the day after Thanksgiving. We sat on the couch, ate leftovers and watched movies.

And I got a chance to knit a little. Here are the results:

I got the back of Tommy's Accordion sweater done -- 18" of 4x4 ribbing. The width is supposed to block out to 17", but this yarn is really springy -- I am hoping for the best. I have about 5" done on the right front.

This is a feather and fan scarf, using the yarn I got from Anno in the Halloween secret pal swap -- Freedom Spirit. I think I will call this my "24" scarf, because we watched about 5 episodes of season 4 of 24 while I worked on this. (I don't know how anyone can watch that show during the regular season, and wait a whole week to see what happens. Will got up extra early yesterday morning so we could watch an episode before he went to school. Yes, we are addicted, and we have Clay's boss to thank -- she couldn't believe we didn't watch 24, and has loaned us all her DVD sets.) 24 is the Lays Potato Chips of TV shows.

Also, I love the stitch pattern so much, I couldn't stop knitting. One skein didn't make the scarf quite long enough, so I started in on skein #2 but couldn't quit (I blame Jack Bauer) -- the scarf is about 24" too long. I think I will rip back some.

My lovely model agreed to try on Andrew's hat and fun fur scarf. The hat is made from Paton's SWS. I just sort of made up the pattern: I cast on 88 and knit in the 4x4 rib pattern like the sweater, but then I got a little bored and added the cable. Here it is a little closer up:

I really love this yarn. I don't know if it's the soy or the silk or the combination, but it just feels great in your hands and knits up beautifully.

On the other hand, I'm not so crazy about fun fur. I did a lot of scarves, ponchos and purses when it first came out, but I'm a little tired of it. But I was asked to make another one for a little girl at school, so here's what I hope will be my last fun fur scarf in St. Ambrose colors. (Yesterday, I did find some sparkly blue and gold yarn at Hobby Lobby, marked down to $1.99 from $8.99 -- I'm thinking about scarves and hats for my two favorite piano students for Christmas. Novelty yarn is a little more tolerable when it is on big sale.)

Saturday morning, Clay and I went to Indianapolis for the funeral of the mom of our good friend, Kevin. Elinor was 90 years old, mother of 6, grandmother, great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother. The Mass (at Little Flower) was a loving tribute to her.

On the way home, we stopped for a sandwich at a drive-through, but called Will (who had wrestling practice that morning) and told him we went to Shapiro's, just to hear what he would say. We are evil parents.

And finally, a wrestling update: the team wrestled last week at Bloomington North. Will did better, but lost. He was disappointed in himself, but is determined to get the first freshman varsity win this year. He has another chance tonight, when they wrestle Hanover here at home. Then, conference matches this Friday and Saturday. With all these meets, I just might get that sweater done by Christmas.

peace

Happy Thanksgiving

I do love Thanksgiving. I love to cook. I love Thanksgiving food. I love it when our house is clean and ready for company. I love to sit and talk over coffee and pie and play games in the afternoon.

But it is one of those tricky holidays for me (like Mother's Day) -- I need to be happy and festive for my own children, but I still want to be the kid going back to my parents' house for the holiday.

So, we make dishes my mom and dad would make in their honor: oyster dressing, pickled herring and cranberry relish.

I think I gave myself a concussion Monday, knocking myself out on the door frame of my car -- I woke on on the sidewalk. (I have a very long history of bonking my head, starting with a typewriter sophomore year of college, but that's another story . . . )

(I sort of feel like this)

Peace

Some Things Bugging Me Today

- Condoleezza Rice said that the US was willing to send $2.1 million to Bangladesh if they asked.
The massive cyclone last week killed over 3,000; 1,000 are missing and thousands are homeless.
Did they really need to ask?

- Did the Iraqis ask? This really bugs me, but don't visit the site unless you want your head to explode.

- Wal-Mart is open Thanksgiving Day. They are closed Christmas Day, but open on Easter. I am not too logical, but I had some logic in a graduate course once. Let's work this out:
A - almost everyone celebrates Thanksgiving
B - not everyone celebrates Christmas
C - Christmas is a Christian holiday
D - Easter is a Christian holiday (most of us Christian types consider this a bigger holiday -- indeed, the biggest)
Therefore, if Wal-Mart is closed on Christmas, they should be closed on Easter. And if they are closed on a day that only part of the population celebrates, shouldn't they be closed on a Federal holiday that people of all faiths celebrate?
I can't do it. In fact, it makes my head hurt.

- Today at the grocery store (not Wal-Mart), you can buy 2 half gallons of milk for $3.00, but a gallon is $3.88. I asked the cashier why. She shrugged. I asked the customer service rep. She said, "That's just how it is." I asked to speak to the manager, but he was busy. (I think saw me coming and went into hiding.)

- The Patriots. 56-10. As if people outside of Boston didn't hate them enough . . .

Off to sweep, dust and find a little peace.

. . . thanks be to God (and St. Sebastian)

When I told my sister that Will would be wrestling varsity, she said, "Ooo, I hope he doesn't have to wrestle some spunky senior."

That, my friends, is exactly what happened.

We picked up the bracket sheet, and there it was: Will, a freshman, seeded #8 against a senior from Perry Meridian, seeded #1. On the back of his t-shirt, in big bold numbers, was his record from last year: 48-1. (After a little Internet research last night, we found out that his one loss was in the state finals.)

Will held his own for 36 seconds. (He did score his first varsity point when the senior let him escape, only to slam him down again for the pin.)

In the wrestleback round, Will wrestled a junior from Warren Central -- the round went a little longer, but he was pinned in the first period again.

Finally, for 7th place, he wrestled a sophomore from Bloomington North -- he lasted all three rounds, but lost on a decision. (He will probably wrestle that kid again on Tuesday night at the dual meet at BNHS.)

So, in his first varsity tournament, he was 8th out of 8. But no broken bones or separated shoulders, and he only had one nosebleed in the last seconds of his final round.

And every time I looked across the gym, he seemed to be having a good time with his teammates.

And I only cried a tiny little bit.

(Not such a great day for the team, either -- no 1sts or 2nds, 3 3rds and a lot of 8ths. 8th place for the team. But the best thing about that is that it can only get better from here.)

Now I need to track down the patron saint of achy backs and fannies-- 8 hours sitting in high school gym bleacher seats is about 7 hours too many.

peace

Saint Sebastian, Pray for Wrestlers (and their moms)

There is an amazing statue of St. Sebastian in the courtyard of the parish named for him in Akron; we drive by it every time we go to visit. The statue shows him in great agony, with many arrows piercing his flesh (the icon here is a much

more peaceful representation of the saint). But all those arrows didn't kill him, because of his strong athletic body -- he was found, still tied to a pillar and still alive. Upon his recovery, he went to see the Roman Emperor again, but this time was beaten to death . (Reason #27 why I am not qualified for sainthood: try to kill me once, fine, but I wouldn't stick around for seconds.)

So, St. Sebastian is the patron saint of athletes, and who I have been talking to this week in preparation for Will's first high school wrestling meet tomorrow. It will be a long day -- 8 teams and lots of wrestlers. I'm packing Gatorade, beef jerky and ice packs for Will; some knitting, coffee and a rosary for me. And Advil for both of us.

(You know how I love these saintly connections: who wrote the history of St. Sebastian? St. Ambrose. Somehow, that makes me feel better.)

peace