So, my attempts at writing haiku paid off. I won the Knitters for Obama haiku contest! OK, so the prizes were awarded with a random number generator, but I'll be receiving specially dyed "Audacity" sock yarn as a prize! Now I'll never win the lottery--used up all my good karma on this. :-)
And now I have to knit socks. My first pair was not so successful. One of the socks was almost wearable. The other; not so much. I'm confident that I can knit socks now, though, since I've honed some of the skills needed since I tried with that first pair.
As cold as it's getting now, I think I'll need some hand-knit socks. Wonder if I could knit fur socks? Brrr. . . .
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
What she said
Sheryl Crow says it so much better than I can:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sheryl-crow/a-new-america_b_141230.html
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sheryl-crow/a-new-america_b_141230.html
It's a beautiful day! President-elect Barack Obama
In so many ways, today doesn't look much different than yesterday. I'm still looking for a job. The bank account is still dwindling. Winter is coming. But. . . President-elect Barack Obama.
Those words fill me with hope.
It's the morning after. The morning after an incredible day. President-elect Barack Obama. I know it will be a long, hard road ahead, but at least I can put one foot in front of the other with hope now.
Here's what I felt yesterday and this morning, too, gleaned from my posts on different forums and emails to friends, in reverse chronological order.
From a posting on an Obama forum this morning:
I cried yesterday. I cried last night (happy tears), and I’m crying this morning.
The soundtrack of my life this morning is pretty loud. It started out with U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day,” and it’s moved on to Springsteen’s “The Rising” again.
His words seem to sum it up so well:
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin’ on the end of my line
Sky of blackness and sorrow ( a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness ( a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear ( a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow ( a dream of life)
Your burnin’ wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight
It’s that “dream of life” part that seems particularly fitting this morning.
(And yes, I’m still crying.)
Last night, from posts on an Obama forum:
Wow. I head for bed with a heart full of hope. It feels good.
What an amazing man. But, as he reminded us, it’s not about him. It’s about us. Thank heaven that he will lead us toward the place where we can be our best.
In answer to a person who posted on an Obama forum that she did not vote for Obama, but that she was confident that he would help preserve the freedoms she fought for (as a member of the armed forces):
Thank you for what you’ve done for our country. Thank you for helping us keep those liberties that were set for us more than 200 years ago. You’re right; we may not always agree, but we can agree to disagree and get on with trying to make our world a better place.
When the media announced that Obama had more than enough electoral votes (posts from an Obama forum):
President-elect Barack Obama! President-elect Barack Obama! PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA! PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA!
Wow! President-elect Obama! It feels so good to type that. Wow. Just wow.
I bet his grandmother can hear the cheers in heaven now!
Wow! It’s really happening! I have chills! And I’m crying again!
God bless President-elect Obama, and the United States of America!
From an email to my sister:
I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. I know there will be tough times ahead (yes, I'm still looking for a job), but now it's easier to face them with hope. Yes we can! And, yes, I'm crying again.GTG--President-elect Obama is ready to speak.
Earlier yesterday, posted on an "I didn't vote for Obama" thread:
Again. I’m
crying again. Here’s who I voted for:
This is at the Obama rally at St. Louis in October, on his 12th birthday (he asked to go because he wanted to, in his words, see history). Yes, he went to the poll with me today, and he marked my ballot.
And that’s why I’m crying. Again.
Earlier in the afternoon, in a dark moment (on an Obama forum):
Wow…I need to borrow some of your hope! I am scared. I spent much of the afternoon with tears oozing out, and they’re not far from the surface now. We need this so badly. So badly. I keep telling myself not if, but when. I’m trying to visualize victory, but it’s really hard. So, hope for me, too, please. I’ll hope with you as soon as I can find it.
A comment about race on an Obama forum; my son's perspective:
He said, when he was about five, that it doesn’t matter what color a person’s skin is, because we all bleed red just the same.
After I voted, in an email to a group of friends who had been discussing our voting experiences:
I just came back from the polls. We vote in a small Baptist church. Usually, we vote in the foyer, but today they had cleared the sanctuary and it was full of voters. I didn't have to wait long; five minutes maybe. J marked my ballot for me, as has been our custom for several years. We voted electronically. I whipped out the digital camera and snapped a couple of pix of the screens; you can see one on Facebook. I had tears oozing out as we marked the ballot--and on the drive home. They're not far from the surface now. No mascara for me today. I, too feel such hope. I NEED that hope. And it does feel like one of those life-altering events (remember where you were when you heard John Lennon had been shot? I do.). I pray it will be.
So, I wore blue. Driving into and out of the polling place parking lot, I blasted Springsteen's The Rising, which they had played at the Obama rally. Those are the only two legal bits of propaganda I could think of.
I pray that there are enough of us who feel the weight of today's possibility to make it real. I'm afraid to go back to fivethirtyeight.com. I can't bear to turn on MSNBC. It's going to be a long night. On pins and needles.
Getting ready to go to the polls (posted on an Obama forum):
So, here’s my playlist as I get ready to go vote. It’s been a calming sort of influence. Hope it works for some of you, too. Springsteen’s The Rising, The Who’s Won’t Get Fooled Again, Hendrix’s Star-Spangled Banner and a whole bunch of U2!
(Heads off to vote sans mascara because I don’t have any that’s water-proof! )
The night before, after Ms. Dunham's death was announced, from a post on an Obama forum:
I’m crying, too, that Obama’s grandmother won’t get to see her grandson become president. I’m crying for him, because what should be the most gratifying day of his life (I’m praying) will now forever be tinged with grief. I’m crying for his little girls. My heart hurts for him.
Last week:
And, although we went to a huge rally in St. Louis, I didn't get to shake Obama's hand. But I can say that I did shake the hand today of a person who shook his hand.
Those words fill me with hope.
It's the morning after. The morning after an incredible day. President-elect Barack Obama. I know it will be a long, hard road ahead, but at least I can put one foot in front of the other with hope now.
Here's what I felt yesterday and this morning, too, gleaned from my posts on different forums and emails to friends, in reverse chronological order.
From a posting on an Obama forum this morning:
I cried yesterday. I cried last night (happy tears), and I’m crying this morning.
The soundtrack of my life this morning is pretty loud. It started out with U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day,” and it’s moved on to Springsteen’s “The Rising” again.
His words seem to sum it up so well:
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin’ on the end of my line
Sky of blackness and sorrow ( a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness ( a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear ( a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow ( a dream of life)
Your burnin’ wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight
It’s that “dream of life” part that seems particularly fitting this morning.
(And yes, I’m still crying.)
Last night, from posts on an Obama forum:
Wow. I head for bed with a heart full of hope. It feels good.
What an amazing man. But, as he reminded us, it’s not about him. It’s about us. Thank heaven that he will lead us toward the place where we can be our best.
In answer to a person who posted on an Obama forum that she did not vote for Obama, but that she was confident that he would help preserve the freedoms she fought for (as a member of the armed forces):
Thank you for what you’ve done for our country. Thank you for helping us keep those liberties that were set for us more than 200 years ago. You’re right; we may not always agree, but we can agree to disagree and get on with trying to make our world a better place.
When the media announced that Obama had more than enough electoral votes (posts from an Obama forum):
President-elect Barack Obama! President-elect Barack Obama! PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA! PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA!
Wow! President-elect Obama! It feels so good to type that. Wow. Just wow.
I bet his grandmother can hear the cheers in heaven now!
Wow! It’s really happening! I have chills! And I’m crying again!
God bless President-elect Obama, and the United States of America!
From an email to my sister:
I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. I know there will be tough times ahead (yes, I'm still looking for a job), but now it's easier to face them with hope. Yes we can! And, yes, I'm crying again.GTG--President-elect Obama is ready to speak.
Earlier yesterday, posted on an "I didn't vote for Obama" thread:
Again. I’m
crying again. Here’s who I voted for:This is at the Obama rally at St. Louis in October, on his 12th birthday (he asked to go because he wanted to, in his words, see history). Yes, he went to the poll with me today, and he marked my ballot.
And that’s why I’m crying. Again.
Earlier in the afternoon, in a dark moment (on an Obama forum):
Wow…I need to borrow some of your hope! I am scared. I spent much of the afternoon with tears oozing out, and they’re not far from the surface now. We need this so badly. So badly. I keep telling myself not if, but when. I’m trying to visualize victory, but it’s really hard. So, hope for me, too, please. I’ll hope with you as soon as I can find it.
A comment about race on an Obama forum; my son's perspective:
He said, when he was about five, that it doesn’t matter what color a person’s skin is, because we all bleed red just the same.
After I voted, in an email to a group of friends who had been discussing our voting experiences:
I just came back from the polls. We vote in a small Baptist church. Usually, we vote in the foyer, but today they had cleared the sanctuary and it was full of voters. I didn't have to wait long; five minutes maybe. J marked my ballot for me, as has been our custom for several years. We voted electronically. I whipped out the digital camera and snapped a couple of pix of the screens; you can see one on Facebook. I had tears oozing out as we marked the ballot--and on the drive home. They're not far from the surface now. No mascara for me today. I, too feel such hope. I NEED that hope. And it does feel like one of those life-altering events (remember where you were when you heard John Lennon had been shot? I do.). I pray it will be.
So, I wore blue. Driving into and out of the polling place parking lot, I blasted Springsteen's The Rising, which they had played at the Obama rally. Those are the only two legal bits of propaganda I could think of.
I pray that there are enough of us who feel the weight of today's possibility to make it real. I'm afraid to go back to fivethirtyeight.com. I can't bear to turn on MSNBC. It's going to be a long night. On pins and needles.
Getting ready to go to the polls (posted on an Obama forum):
So, here’s my playlist as I get ready to go vote. It’s been a calming sort of influence. Hope it works for some of you, too. Springsteen’s The Rising, The Who’s Won’t Get Fooled Again, Hendrix’s Star-Spangled Banner and a whole bunch of U2!
(Heads off to vote sans mascara because I don’t have any that’s water-proof! )
The night before, after Ms. Dunham's death was announced, from a post on an Obama forum:
I’m crying, too, that Obama’s grandmother won’t get to see her grandson become president. I’m crying for him, because what should be the most gratifying day of his life (I’m praying) will now forever be tinged with grief. I’m crying for his little girls. My heart hurts for him.
Last week:
And, although we went to a huge rally in St. Louis, I didn't get to shake Obama's hand. But I can say that I did shake the hand today of a person who shook his hand.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Haiku for Obama
I've always loved haiku. I love expressing a thought in so few words. I love crafting words and syllables to fit haiku's criteria. It's challenging, but not hard. I've never tried to write a sonnet; I'm intimidated by them. But haiku? It's friendly. So when there was a thread started on the Knitters for Obama forum on http://ravelry.com for a haiku for Obama contest, how could I resist? OK, I know you non-knitters out there (yes, I'm assuming that there is more than one of you out there even reading my occasional musings) are chuckling. Knitters for Obama, you say? Really? Yes, really. It's an amazing group of people from all over the world who are intelligent, witty, earthy and fiber-crazy. Best discussions ever there. Funny, snarky, wise conversations--all with an overtone of hopefulness. Anyway. . .
I got caught up in the fun of haiku again. After the first one or two, it ceased to be about winning a skein of specially dyed "Audacity" sock yarn. Now, it's just for the fun of it. So, for your reading pleasure (or not), here are some of my Obama haiku.
Knitters want change now.
We’ll vote for Obama, then
We’ll knit more with hope.
Filled with fear, no job.
Obama says I can have
better future. Please!
American dream.
Bill gave me hope; George dashed it.
Barack renews it.
People inspired by
the hope that Obama brings
will fill voting booths.
Missouri is home.
Now let it turn blue for O.
I’ll help get out votes.
Michelle is good wife,
Good role model, not like that
Caribou Barbie!
Choose wisely, McCain?
I don’t think so, and I’m not
Alone. Must vote blue.
Destiny awaits
Obama and our country.
A future with hope.
Haiku? We’ll write lots.
Then we’ll knit and vote Tuesday.
Mark by Obama.
Worry, worry, knit.
What will happen on Tuesday?
Worry, knit and hope.
This one is voting
For That One. It’s time for us
To stand together.
Sorry, John. Go home
to one of many houses.
You don’t speak for me.
Sarah, you are no
Hillary. John, you can’t match
Obama either.
I don’t envy judges’
job. Obama haiku is
fun, yarn’s bonus.
Obama fam’ly
Reflects the best of country.
Love, honor, respect.
Obama daughters,
My son, deserve bright future.
Obama dad, go!
Barack Obama—
Strong, wise man. Lead us to a
Better future, please.
My future needs hope.
I’m voting with my heart. Vote
Barack Obama.
Barack Obama
Paints picture of future change.
I’m voting for it.
In St. Louis, I
Saw his elbow. Can’t wait to
See President O.
OK, the last one sucks. . . but I had fun.
I got caught up in the fun of haiku again. After the first one or two, it ceased to be about winning a skein of specially dyed "Audacity" sock yarn. Now, it's just for the fun of it. So, for your reading pleasure (or not), here are some of my Obama haiku.
Knitters want change now.
We’ll vote for Obama, then
We’ll knit more with hope.
Filled with fear, no job.
Obama says I can have
better future. Please!
American dream.
Bill gave me hope; George dashed it.
Barack renews it.
People inspired by
the hope that Obama brings
will fill voting booths.
Missouri is home.
Now let it turn blue for O.
I’ll help get out votes.
Michelle is good wife,
Good role model, not like that
Caribou Barbie!
Choose wisely, McCain?
I don’t think so, and I’m not
Alone. Must vote blue.
Destiny awaits
Obama and our country.
A future with hope.
Haiku? We’ll write lots.
Then we’ll knit and vote Tuesday.
Mark by Obama.
Worry, worry, knit.
What will happen on Tuesday?
Worry, knit and hope.
This one is voting
For That One. It’s time for us
To stand together.
Sorry, John. Go home
to one of many houses.
You don’t speak for me.
Sarah, you are no
Hillary. John, you can’t match
Obama either.
I don’t envy judges’
job. Obama haiku is
fun, yarn’s bonus.
Obama fam’ly
Reflects the best of country.
Love, honor, respect.
Obama daughters,
My son, deserve bright future.
Obama dad, go!
Barack Obama—
Strong, wise man. Lead us to a
Better future, please.
My future needs hope.
I’m voting with my heart. Vote
Barack Obama.
Barack Obama
Paints picture of future change.
I’m voting for it.
In St. Louis, I
Saw his elbow. Can’t wait to
See President O.
OK, the last one sucks. . . but I had fun.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Read a banned book!
It's banned books week in the US. Seems like a great time to pick one off the following list and give it a read--or re-read.
Censorship stinks!
From the American Library Association:
The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990–1999 (couldn't get a more up-to-date list)
Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Witches by Roald Dahl
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
The Goats by Brock Cole
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
Blubber by Judy Blume
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
Jack by A.M. Homes
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Carrie by Stephen King
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
Jumper by Steven Gould
Christine by Stephen King
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
That Was Then, This is Now by S.E. Hinton
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
The Wish Giver by Bill Brittain
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
I've read the ones in bold. How about you?
Censorship stinks!
From the American Library Association:
The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990–1999 (couldn't get a more up-to-date list)
Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Witches by Roald Dahl
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
The Goats by Brock Cole
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
Blubber by Judy Blume
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
Jack by A.M. Homes
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Carrie by Stephen King
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
Jumper by Steven Gould
Christine by Stephen King
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
That Was Then, This is Now by S.E. Hinton
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
The Wish Giver by Bill Brittain
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
I've read the ones in bold. How about you?
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
I never want to wash my face again!
That's because I'm still wearing the makeup the BH&G makeup stylist applied earlier today! I look about as good as it will ever get. The rest of the Girlfriends looked good too. We had our magazine shoot today. More on it later, after back-to-school night. It was a surreal day. . . .
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
One of us. . .wow!
What a historic evening. I just watched Barack Obama walk onto the stage of the Democratic Convention. One of us, ready to lead our country.
One of us. . .By that, I'm not talking color of his skin, because I don't care what color his skin is. I don't care what his middle name is. I care that he can do the job of turning our country around and helping us get started back in the right direction.
One of us. . .OK, one of us who's much more intelligent and has much more money than me, but one of us. Someone who could have sat beside me in high school or college. Someone who could have been at the same parties or events or concerts as me. Someone who probably grew up with some of the same cultural influences that I had: disco (the horror!), bell-bottoms, faint memories of the Bicentennial, remembering where we were when John Lennon was shot and when the Challenger blew up and when the Towers fell. One of us.
I am so very excited, and eager to work to help him be elected. I am excited at the thought of the difference one of us can make. The difference that many of us can make together can change the world. There's a tiny bit of sadness that I won't get to vote for a woman for president yet, but I can get past it. I can vote for one of us.
One of us. . . . .Obama for President!
One of us. . .By that, I'm not talking color of his skin, because I don't care what color his skin is. I don't care what his middle name is. I care that he can do the job of turning our country around and helping us get started back in the right direction.
One of us. . .OK, one of us who's much more intelligent and has much more money than me, but one of us. Someone who could have sat beside me in high school or college. Someone who could have been at the same parties or events or concerts as me. Someone who probably grew up with some of the same cultural influences that I had: disco (the horror!), bell-bottoms, faint memories of the Bicentennial, remembering where we were when John Lennon was shot and when the Challenger blew up and when the Towers fell. One of us.
I am so very excited, and eager to work to help him be elected. I am excited at the thought of the difference one of us can make. The difference that many of us can make together can change the world. There's a tiny bit of sadness that I won't get to vote for a woman for president yet, but I can get past it. I can vote for one of us.
One of us. . . . .Obama for President!
Whine by number
Yeah, so since nobody is really reading this, I'm just going to let loose and instead of painting by number, I'm going to do a little whine by number. It doesn't have to make sense. It's my blog.
Here we go:
1. My dog is sick. Poor Kirby; we took her to the vet earlier in the summer when she began favoring one hind leg and then the other. They did x-rays, found nothing and said to give her some time to heal. So we did. We didn't let her out in the yard to run for three or four weeks. She's finally been acting like she wants to do her regular stuff--chase rabbits, run from one side of the fence to the other and bark when people, and especially dogs, walk by. She meets me as usual with her bone, ready to play, after Jon leaves for school. But she's still losing weight and she runs with her hind legs doing the bunny hop. When I took her back to the vet today, she recommended seeing an orthopedic specialist at the University vet school. I love my dog. I want her to get better so she can run and chase rabbits. But I can't afford to spend a lot of $$ on her now, which brings me to my second whine.
2. I'm sick of looking for a new job. If I had a job, I wouldn't be worried about spending a bunch of money on Kirby at the vet.
I am good at what I do. In this market, I would be a bargain for an employer. I bring lots of good experience and great skills to the table. And I'm a fun person to work with. Just ask my former editor/publications person and my graphics/web person. But I'm tired of looking for work. If only I could hire someone to do it for me. I have, however, set a new world record. I've been rejected for two jobs (which, by the way, I could have done with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back) with one letter. I guess I should be grateful that they bothered to send me a formal rejection. That brings me to my next whine.
3. I am still furious at my former boss. I think he made a stupid, short-sighted, self-serving decision in eliminating my position. Sure, he said he would do my job, but he didn't. Sure, some pieces of my job got picked up by other people. But in a business where communication is the mainstay of the business, eliminating the director of communication seems to be at cross-purposes to the goals of the organization. I'm still trying to forgive, but I just can't forget. I hope he's happy in his new, guaranteed-for-life regardless-of-performance-or-skills job. Not.
4. My house is a mess. I don't care. I should care.
5. Wow, I ran out of steam quickly. Guess I'll go fold some clothes. I don't feel better. :-(
Here we go:
1. My dog is sick. Poor Kirby; we took her to the vet earlier in the summer when she began favoring one hind leg and then the other. They did x-rays, found nothing and said to give her some time to heal. So we did. We didn't let her out in the yard to run for three or four weeks. She's finally been acting like she wants to do her regular stuff--chase rabbits, run from one side of the fence to the other and bark when people, and especially dogs, walk by. She meets me as usual with her bone, ready to play, after Jon leaves for school. But she's still losing weight and she runs with her hind legs doing the bunny hop. When I took her back to the vet today, she recommended seeing an orthopedic specialist at the University vet school. I love my dog. I want her to get better so she can run and chase rabbits. But I can't afford to spend a lot of $$ on her now, which brings me to my second whine.
2. I'm sick of looking for a new job. If I had a job, I wouldn't be worried about spending a bunch of money on Kirby at the vet.
I am good at what I do. In this market, I would be a bargain for an employer. I bring lots of good experience and great skills to the table. And I'm a fun person to work with. Just ask my former editor/publications person and my graphics/web person. But I'm tired of looking for work. If only I could hire someone to do it for me. I have, however, set a new world record. I've been rejected for two jobs (which, by the way, I could have done with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back) with one letter. I guess I should be grateful that they bothered to send me a formal rejection. That brings me to my next whine.
3. I am still furious at my former boss. I think he made a stupid, short-sighted, self-serving decision in eliminating my position. Sure, he said he would do my job, but he didn't. Sure, some pieces of my job got picked up by other people. But in a business where communication is the mainstay of the business, eliminating the director of communication seems to be at cross-purposes to the goals of the organization. I'm still trying to forgive, but I just can't forget. I hope he's happy in his new, guaranteed-for-life regardless-of-performance-or-skills job. Not.
4. My house is a mess. I don't care. I should care.
5. Wow, I ran out of steam quickly. Guess I'll go fold some clothes. I don't feel better. :-(
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Lazy days of summer
Ahh. . . I've enjoyed a couple of lazy days of summer this weekend. Yesterday felt like mid-summer--hot and sweaty. Today was more of an Indian summer day, cool and sunny.
Yesterday was the big subdivision yard sale. Jonathan set up a Kool-Aid stand and earned enough money to buy a toy he'd found on eBay. I sat outside and tried to teach myself how to make felted spa soap. I've got it down, but need to work harder to get the wool yarn I wrapped over the roving to felt. (Easy to make: wrap woolen roving--that's fiber that's been washed and combed and is ready to spin--around a bar of soap. Wet it slightly with hot water and the roving felts--shrinks to fit-- to the soap. I've added a step of wrapping colorful wool yarn around it and that's what I'm having difficulty with. I've not agitated the yarn's fibers enough to get them to adhere to the wool. When you're finished, you've got a bar of soap with the washcloth already attached.). Once I figure out how to post pictures (lazy. . . haven't tried it yet), I will show you. The 4-H group will be at the Farmer's Market in September, and I think the soap might sell well.
I started my Colbert Square. Since I had such fun knitting the Pratchgan square, I decided to do a square for a red, white and blue afghan a group of Colbert fans on Ravelry are putting together. I'm doing a red one in a pattern called Midwest Moonlight.
Today I was even lazier than yesterday. I took a nap this afternoon and it felt good. Mmmmmm, I love naps. I also finished reading The Lace Reader. I really enjoyed it. It was a fascinating story with a twist at the end.
It'll be time soon to get the middle schooler headed for bed. He came home Thursday, the first day, and said, "This was the best first day of middle school ever!" I am so glad he liked it; I knew he would. The only close-to-negative things he's said about it is that the bus comes waaayyy too early (it does), it was hot riding the bus home and he's bummed about being the only boy on his team who plays flute. His friend Isaac plays flute, too, but he's on a different team. Other than that, it's great.
The new week begins. Tomorrow is the 28th (eeek. . . hard to believe) anniversary of the day I met Jeff. Wow, time flies when you're having fun. I'll spend the day doing laundry and applying for every job that I can find that's remotely something I might be interested in. I will find a job soon. I'm sure there's a reason that it's taking me so long to find one; I just haven't figured out what it is. Door's closed and I'm still looking for the open window.
Yesterday was the big subdivision yard sale. Jonathan set up a Kool-Aid stand and earned enough money to buy a toy he'd found on eBay. I sat outside and tried to teach myself how to make felted spa soap. I've got it down, but need to work harder to get the wool yarn I wrapped over the roving to felt. (Easy to make: wrap woolen roving--that's fiber that's been washed and combed and is ready to spin--around a bar of soap. Wet it slightly with hot water and the roving felts--shrinks to fit-- to the soap. I've added a step of wrapping colorful wool yarn around it and that's what I'm having difficulty with. I've not agitated the yarn's fibers enough to get them to adhere to the wool. When you're finished, you've got a bar of soap with the washcloth already attached.). Once I figure out how to post pictures (lazy. . . haven't tried it yet), I will show you. The 4-H group will be at the Farmer's Market in September, and I think the soap might sell well.
I started my Colbert Square. Since I had such fun knitting the Pratchgan square, I decided to do a square for a red, white and blue afghan a group of Colbert fans on Ravelry are putting together. I'm doing a red one in a pattern called Midwest Moonlight.
Today I was even lazier than yesterday. I took a nap this afternoon and it felt good. Mmmmmm, I love naps. I also finished reading The Lace Reader. I really enjoyed it. It was a fascinating story with a twist at the end.
It'll be time soon to get the middle schooler headed for bed. He came home Thursday, the first day, and said, "This was the best first day of middle school ever!" I am so glad he liked it; I knew he would. The only close-to-negative things he's said about it is that the bus comes waaayyy too early (it does), it was hot riding the bus home and he's bummed about being the only boy on his team who plays flute. His friend Isaac plays flute, too, but he's on a different team. Other than that, it's great.
The new week begins. Tomorrow is the 28th (eeek. . . hard to believe) anniversary of the day I met Jeff. Wow, time flies when you're having fun. I'll spend the day doing laundry and applying for every job that I can find that's remotely something I might be interested in. I will find a job soon. I'm sure there's a reason that it's taking me so long to find one; I just haven't figured out what it is. Door's closed and I'm still looking for the open window.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Entertainment Weekly posted a list of new classics, or what they call the best reads from 1983 to 2008. See the list: Entertainment Weekly’s list of new classics . Let's see, the ones I've read are in bold face, the ones I have in the to-be-read pile(s) are italic and the rest. . . well, maybe later.
1. The Road , Cormac McCarthy (2006)
2. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (2000)
3. Beloved, Toni Morrison (1987)
4. The Liars’ Club, Mary Karr (1995)
5. American Pastoral, Philip Roth (1997)
6. Mystic River, Dennis Lehane (2001)
7. Maus, Art Spiegelman (1986/1991)
8. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (1996)
9. Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier (1997)
10. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Haruki Murakami (1997)
11. Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer (1997)
12. Blindness, José Saramago (199
13. Watchmen, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (1986-87)
14. Black Water, Joyce Carol Oates (1992)
15. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers (2000)
16. The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood (1986) One of my favorite all-time scary books
17. Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez (1981)
8. Rabbit at Rest, John Updike (1990)
19. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (2005)
20. Bridget Jones’s Diary, Helen Fielding (1992
1. On Writing, Stephen King (2000) This is such a good book. It is a great reference
22. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz (2007)
23. The Ghost Road, Pat Barker (1996)
24. Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry (1985)
25. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan (1989)
26. Neuromancer, William Gibson (1984)
27. Possession, A.S. Byatt (1990)
28. Naked, David Sedaris (1997)
29. Bel Canto, Anne Patchett (2001)
30. Case Histories, Kate Atkinson (2004)
31. The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien (1990) Excellent read.
32. Parting the Waters, Taylor Branch (1983)
33. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion (2005)
34. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold (2002)
35. The Line of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst (2004)
36. Angela’s Ashes, Frank McCourt (1996)
37. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi (2003)
38. Birds of America, Lorrie Moore (199)
39. Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri (2000)
40. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman (1995-2000)
41. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros (1984)
42. LaBrava, Elmore Leonard (1983)
43. Borrowed Time, Paul Monette (198
44. Praying for Sheetrock, Melissa Fay Greene (1991)
45. Eva Luna, Isabel Allende (198
46. Sandman, Neil Gaiman (1988-1996)
47. World’s Fair, E.L. Doctorow (1985)
48. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (199
49. Clockers, Richard Price (1992)
50. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen (2001)
51. The Journalist and the Murderer, Janet Malcom (1990)
52. Waiting to Exhale, Terry McMillan (1992)
53. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon (2000)
54. Jimmy Corrigan, Chris Ware (2000)
55. The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls (2006)
56. The Night Manager, John le Carré (1993)
57. The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe (1987)
58. Drop City, TC Boyle (2003)
59. Krik? Krak! Edwidge Danticat (1995)
60. Nickel & Dimed, Barbara Ehrenreich (2001)
61. Money, Martin Amis (1985)
62. Last Train To Memphis, Peter Guralnick (1994)
63. Pastoralia, George Saunders (2000)
64. Underworld, Don DeLillo (1997)
65. The Giver, Lois Lowry (1993)
66. A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, David Foster Wallace (1997)
67. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini (2003)
68. Fun Home, Alison Bechdel (2006)
69. Secret History, Donna Tartt (1992)
70. Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell (2004)
71. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, Ann Fadiman (1997)
72. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon (2003)
73. A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving (1989)
74. Friday Night Lights, H.G. Bissinger (1990)
75. Cathedral, Raymond Carver (1983)
76. A Sight for Sore Eyes, Ruth Rendell (199
77. The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro (1989)
78. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert (2006)
79. The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell (2000)
80. Bright Lights, Big City, Jay McInerney (1984)
81. Backlash, Susan Faludi (1991)
82. Atonement, Ian McEwan (2002)
83. The Stone Diaries, Carol Shields (1994)
84. Holes, Louis Sachar (199
85. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson (2004)
86. And the Band Played On, Randy Shilts (1987)
87. The Ruins, Scott Smith (2006)
88. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby (1995)
89. Close Range, Annie Proulx (1999)
90. Comfort Me With Apples, Ruth Reichl (2001)
91. Random Family, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc (2003)
92. Presumed Innocent, Scott Turow (1987)
93. A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley (1991)
94. Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser (2001)
95. Kaaterskill Falls, Allegra Goodman (199
96. The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown (2003)
97. Jesus’ Son, Denis Johnson (1992)
98. The Predators’ Ball, Connie Bruck (198
99. Practical Magic, Alice Hoffman (1995)
100. America (the Book), Jon Stewart/Daily Show (2004)
Hmmm. . .Not bad. I've read a third of them. How about you?
1. The Road , Cormac McCarthy (2006)
2. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (2000)
3. Beloved, Toni Morrison (1987)
4. The Liars’ Club, Mary Karr (1995)
5. American Pastoral, Philip Roth (1997)
6. Mystic River, Dennis Lehane (2001)
7. Maus, Art Spiegelman (1986/1991)
8. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (1996)
9. Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier (1997)
10. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Haruki Murakami (1997)
11. Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer (1997)
12. Blindness, José Saramago (199
13. Watchmen, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (1986-87)
14. Black Water, Joyce Carol Oates (1992)
15. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers (2000)
16. The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood (1986) One of my favorite all-time scary books
17. Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez (1981)
8. Rabbit at Rest, John Updike (1990)
19. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (2005)
20. Bridget Jones’s Diary, Helen Fielding (1992
1. On Writing, Stephen King (2000) This is such a good book. It is a great reference
22. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz (2007)
23. The Ghost Road, Pat Barker (1996)
24. Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry (1985)
25. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan (1989)
26. Neuromancer, William Gibson (1984)
27. Possession, A.S. Byatt (1990)
28. Naked, David Sedaris (1997)
29. Bel Canto, Anne Patchett (2001)
30. Case Histories, Kate Atkinson (2004)
31. The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien (1990) Excellent read.
32. Parting the Waters, Taylor Branch (1983)
33. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion (2005)
34. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold (2002)
35. The Line of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst (2004)
36. Angela’s Ashes, Frank McCourt (1996)
37. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi (2003)
38. Birds of America, Lorrie Moore (199)
39. Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri (2000)
40. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman (1995-2000)
41. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros (1984)
42. LaBrava, Elmore Leonard (1983)
43. Borrowed Time, Paul Monette (198
44. Praying for Sheetrock, Melissa Fay Greene (1991)
45. Eva Luna, Isabel Allende (198
46. Sandman, Neil Gaiman (1988-1996)
47. World’s Fair, E.L. Doctorow (1985)
48. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (199
49. Clockers, Richard Price (1992)
50. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen (2001)
51. The Journalist and the Murderer, Janet Malcom (1990)
52. Waiting to Exhale, Terry McMillan (1992)
53. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon (2000)
54. Jimmy Corrigan, Chris Ware (2000)
55. The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls (2006)
56. The Night Manager, John le Carré (1993)
57. The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe (1987)
58. Drop City, TC Boyle (2003)
59. Krik? Krak! Edwidge Danticat (1995)
60. Nickel & Dimed, Barbara Ehrenreich (2001)
61. Money, Martin Amis (1985)
62. Last Train To Memphis, Peter Guralnick (1994)
63. Pastoralia, George Saunders (2000)
64. Underworld, Don DeLillo (1997)
65. The Giver, Lois Lowry (1993)
66. A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, David Foster Wallace (1997)
67. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini (2003)
68. Fun Home, Alison Bechdel (2006)
69. Secret History, Donna Tartt (1992)
70. Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell (2004)
71. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, Ann Fadiman (1997)
72. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon (2003)
73. A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving (1989)
74. Friday Night Lights, H.G. Bissinger (1990)
75. Cathedral, Raymond Carver (1983)
76. A Sight for Sore Eyes, Ruth Rendell (199
77. The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro (1989)
78. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert (2006)
79. The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell (2000)
80. Bright Lights, Big City, Jay McInerney (1984)
81. Backlash, Susan Faludi (1991)
82. Atonement, Ian McEwan (2002)
83. The Stone Diaries, Carol Shields (1994)
84. Holes, Louis Sachar (199
85. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson (2004)
86. And the Band Played On, Randy Shilts (1987)
87. The Ruins, Scott Smith (2006)
88. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby (1995)
89. Close Range, Annie Proulx (1999)
90. Comfort Me With Apples, Ruth Reichl (2001)
91. Random Family, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc (2003)
92. Presumed Innocent, Scott Turow (1987)
93. A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley (1991)
94. Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser (2001)
95. Kaaterskill Falls, Allegra Goodman (199
96. The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown (2003)
97. Jesus’ Son, Denis Johnson (1992)
98. The Predators’ Ball, Connie Bruck (198
99. Practical Magic, Alice Hoffman (1995)
100. America (the Book), Jon Stewart/Daily Show (2004)
Hmmm. . .Not bad. I've read a third of them. How about you?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The snowball is rolling!
A snowball in August? Well, that seemed fitting, because the Better Homes and Gardens story is rolling along! Laurie emailed the Girlfriends today to tell us that BH&G wants to send a photographer to spend half a day with us for photos to go with the story. That's wild!
So we'll have a Christmas gathering in August, it would seem. I'm anxious to hear details of what kind of photos they want.
It's really ironic, because they seem, according to Laurie, to be focusing on the benevolent portion of our gatherings. Sounds selfish, but that's secondary to the sheer pleasure of getting together each year. We don't have a "project" every year; those come about when one of us feels strongly enough about a cause to bring it to the group. The winter that Lisa was in Iraq at an Air Force hospital, it was easy. I'd already been asking other people, like my co-workers, to help out with sweats to send whenever they could. Asking the Girlfriends was only natural. I knew they'd help out, because that's just the way they are. They're good, generous women. Now, though, the pressure's on! What will we do this year? We'll have to do something! I've no doubt that finding a project will be easy. I've got a few in mind myself. I'm guessing we'll talk about it at our pseudo-holiday gathering for the BH&G photographer, when we pile on the sled to head down the hill for the magazine story!
So we'll have a Christmas gathering in August, it would seem. I'm anxious to hear details of what kind of photos they want.
It's really ironic, because they seem, according to Laurie, to be focusing on the benevolent portion of our gatherings. Sounds selfish, but that's secondary to the sheer pleasure of getting together each year. We don't have a "project" every year; those come about when one of us feels strongly enough about a cause to bring it to the group. The winter that Lisa was in Iraq at an Air Force hospital, it was easy. I'd already been asking other people, like my co-workers, to help out with sweats to send whenever they could. Asking the Girlfriends was only natural. I knew they'd help out, because that's just the way they are. They're good, generous women. Now, though, the pressure's on! What will we do this year? We'll have to do something! I've no doubt that finding a project will be easy. I've got a few in mind myself. I'm guessing we'll talk about it at our pseudo-holiday gathering for the BH&G photographer, when we pile on the sled to head down the hill for the magazine story!
Sunday, August 10, 2008
An interesting email
Today I received an email message from one of my closest friends, Laurie. You know the kind of friend: the one with whom, although you might not have seen her for months, you feel so comfortable that when you get together it's as if no time has passed. Laurie was my roommate in college, in the slum apartment where after one huge rainstorm, water ran through the light fixtures, and later, in an apartment in the "big city" with another friend. Many years have passed since then, but I still treasure her friendship.
I digress. . .
The email. . . here's the backstory. For many years, seven college friends have gathered each Christmas season in a Girlfriends' party. We move from house to house, trading hostess duties. Sometimes, though not often, we meet in a restaurant. We give gifts. In the early years, we drew names. One year, we brought a gift that might be suitable for any one of us and "drew straws" to see what we'd take home that year. The past few years, though, we've done things a little bit differently. We've given a small gift to each one of the Girlfriends. We don't spend much money; the limit is $5 per person. But we spend that money on one of our favorite luxuries that we'd like to share with our friends. Last year, I knitted a scarf for each of my Girlfriends. Through the years, I remember receiving homemade hot cocoa mix in a gigantic snowflake mug from Sally, a pair of her favorite brand of tweezers from Liz (yes, I still use them), her favorite cocoa almonds from Laurie, a handmade Christmas card holder from Jodi (she's an amazing quilter--actually, she's amazing at everything) and a customized calendar from Heather. Looking through the pages of the calendar was like looking at a time capsule of the past years of Girlfriends' gatherings. The scrapbook that we began a few years ago also chronicles the changing hairstyles and the gatherings through the years. The gifts and the scrapbook are wonderful--and worthwhile.
Some years, though, we do more. A few years ago, my friend Lisa, an Air Force nurse, was stationed in Iraq. When I asked her what I could send to her to make her time there better, she told me she didn't want anything for herself, but could use sweatshirts and pants for her "guys" who came in to the hospital with injuries that destroyed what they were wearing. That year, we gathered new shirts and pants and mailed them to Lisa, along with notes from each of the Girlfriends. Other years, the group has adopted a family and done various other (in Laurie's words) benevolent projects. It doesn't happen every year, but it happens when any one of us knows of someone in need and brings it to the group.
Although I shared college experiences with these amazing women, I didn't join the group at its beginning. I've sort of orbited around the core group as distance and circumstance changed. The past few years, though, it's become an important part of my holiday season. A couple of years ago, 18 inches of snow grounded Julie and me (we live in the same area) and we missed the party. Several days later--after the roads were cleared and the postal service was delivering mail again--I received a box in the mail. It was filled with all the Girlfriends' gifts. It was like a second Christmas morning for me.
The gatherings are some of my life's milestones. The group is a constant along the journey. We've gone through many things with each other: first jobs, marriages, births, promotions, job losses, the time when one of the group had to take the car keys from her aging and no-longer-able-to-drive parents, two fathers' deaths and a miscarriage.
So there's the backstory.
Back to that email from Laurie: she had posted about the group and our gatherings on a women's site. Earlier this month, she had received a note from a freelance writer working on a story for Better Homes and Gardens December issue. She's since talked to the writer about the gatherings and shared some of our pictures with her. Another of the group will also share her thoughts with the reporter. This year's Christmas gift for the group could be being featured in a national magazine. That would be spectacular, but the most important gift will still be the time we'll share together, come a Saturday morning early in the Christmas season.
I digress. . .
The email. . . here's the backstory. For many years, seven college friends have gathered each Christmas season in a Girlfriends' party. We move from house to house, trading hostess duties. Sometimes, though not often, we meet in a restaurant. We give gifts. In the early years, we drew names. One year, we brought a gift that might be suitable for any one of us and "drew straws" to see what we'd take home that year. The past few years, though, we've done things a little bit differently. We've given a small gift to each one of the Girlfriends. We don't spend much money; the limit is $5 per person. But we spend that money on one of our favorite luxuries that we'd like to share with our friends. Last year, I knitted a scarf for each of my Girlfriends. Through the years, I remember receiving homemade hot cocoa mix in a gigantic snowflake mug from Sally, a pair of her favorite brand of tweezers from Liz (yes, I still use them), her favorite cocoa almonds from Laurie, a handmade Christmas card holder from Jodi (she's an amazing quilter--actually, she's amazing at everything) and a customized calendar from Heather. Looking through the pages of the calendar was like looking at a time capsule of the past years of Girlfriends' gatherings. The scrapbook that we began a few years ago also chronicles the changing hairstyles and the gatherings through the years. The gifts and the scrapbook are wonderful--and worthwhile.
Some years, though, we do more. A few years ago, my friend Lisa, an Air Force nurse, was stationed in Iraq. When I asked her what I could send to her to make her time there better, she told me she didn't want anything for herself, but could use sweatshirts and pants for her "guys" who came in to the hospital with injuries that destroyed what they were wearing. That year, we gathered new shirts and pants and mailed them to Lisa, along with notes from each of the Girlfriends. Other years, the group has adopted a family and done various other (in Laurie's words) benevolent projects. It doesn't happen every year, but it happens when any one of us knows of someone in need and brings it to the group.
Although I shared college experiences with these amazing women, I didn't join the group at its beginning. I've sort of orbited around the core group as distance and circumstance changed. The past few years, though, it's become an important part of my holiday season. A couple of years ago, 18 inches of snow grounded Julie and me (we live in the same area) and we missed the party. Several days later--after the roads were cleared and the postal service was delivering mail again--I received a box in the mail. It was filled with all the Girlfriends' gifts. It was like a second Christmas morning for me.
The gatherings are some of my life's milestones. The group is a constant along the journey. We've gone through many things with each other: first jobs, marriages, births, promotions, job losses, the time when one of the group had to take the car keys from her aging and no-longer-able-to-drive parents, two fathers' deaths and a miscarriage.
So there's the backstory.
Back to that email from Laurie: she had posted about the group and our gatherings on a women's site. Earlier this month, she had received a note from a freelance writer working on a story for Better Homes and Gardens December issue. She's since talked to the writer about the gatherings and shared some of our pictures with her. Another of the group will also share her thoughts with the reporter. This year's Christmas gift for the group could be being featured in a national magazine. That would be spectacular, but the most important gift will still be the time we'll share together, come a Saturday morning early in the Christmas season.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Finish a project? Ha! Not me!
So I was cruising around Ravelry tonight, when I was overtaken by the urge to update my projects. For you non-knitters, think MySpace for fiber artists. Yes, I have more in progress than I have finished lately, and I have the urge to start some more. Could be caused by the yummy skein of Dream in Color Smooshy that followed me home from True Blue Fiber Friends today. It's a gorgeous skein of Gothic Rose. I think it wants to be mittens. I've never made mittens before, so this will be adventure. When I learn how to post pictures here, I'll show you. Small steps, small steps. . .
I frogged (rip it, rip it, rip it) the scarf I'd started with the vibrant mohair/nylon yarn in purple, cinnamon and black (Jamaican Spice). It just wasn't showing off the yarn well. So I switched to larger needles and I'll try it again.
I worked some on version 2.0 of the Mystic Meadows shawl that I started over last week.
Also had lunch with a friend. It's good to have friends--especially friends like Lou.
And friends? Well, that brings me back to Ravelry.
Life before Ravelry? Was there life before Ravelry? It's certainly been a lifesaver for me. It's given me a "place" to go everyday, since I don't have a job to go to right now. (I will, and soon. . . I hope!) It's given me new friends, and not just online friends, but real ones right here in the area. It's helped me realize just how much I have to learn about knitting: a lot! It's a wonderful world where you can talk to anyone about most anything. Like here, only way, way better!
I frogged (rip it, rip it, rip it) the scarf I'd started with the vibrant mohair/nylon yarn in purple, cinnamon and black (Jamaican Spice). It just wasn't showing off the yarn well. So I switched to larger needles and I'll try it again.
I worked some on version 2.0 of the Mystic Meadows shawl that I started over last week.
Also had lunch with a friend. It's good to have friends--especially friends like Lou.
And friends? Well, that brings me back to Ravelry.
Life before Ravelry? Was there life before Ravelry? It's certainly been a lifesaver for me. It's given me a "place" to go everyday, since I don't have a job to go to right now. (I will, and soon. . . I hope!) It's given me new friends, and not just online friends, but real ones right here in the area. It's helped me realize just how much I have to learn about knitting: a lot! It's a wonderful world where you can talk to anyone about most anything. Like here, only way, way better!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Can I blog?
We'll see. I do enjoy reading others' blogs, even when they're about the minutiae of the author's life. So, what might you see here? Well, you might see something about my family or friends, you might read about my current knitting projects, you might read about what I'm reading or listening to, you might see a rant about politics or current events, or you might find a link to some of the music my husband has composed.
These days, unfortunately, you might also read my whining about my job (actually, lack of a job) woes. I'll try to keep that to a minimum, though.
Except for that lack-of-a-job thing, life is good. I feel blessed to have been able to spend the summer with our son. He's a very cool kid, and spending time with him is great fun.
I am enjoying watching Jeff as he becomes more proficient at playing guitar, which he just started last year. It's such fun to hear his compositions in progress, and I am really proud when he plays one of his songs. He may be a rock-and-roll star yet!
These days, unfortunately, you might also read my whining about my job (actually, lack of a job) woes. I'll try to keep that to a minimum, though.
Except for that lack-of-a-job thing, life is good. I feel blessed to have been able to spend the summer with our son. He's a very cool kid, and spending time with him is great fun.
I am enjoying watching Jeff as he becomes more proficient at playing guitar, which he just started last year. It's such fun to hear his compositions in progress, and I am really proud when he plays one of his songs. He may be a rock-and-roll star yet!
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