A Quickie

Just a small smile....I don't know why anyone would be surprised that Senator Arlen Specter decided today to change parties and become a Democrat. After all, the man is 79, and has fought cancer three times.

He's trying to make it into Heaven!

Stitches of Looooove

This is my 100th post. No cards necessary, unless they be gift cards.

"Stitches of Love" has become a sort of inside joke between the DH and I. It began first, I think, when I was knitting the Lily of the Valley stole for my younger daughter. It was meant to be a wedding gift, and I worked on it very constantly until the wedding was called off. Later, it was a gift before the wedding that did happen. She's a constant challenge, this kid.

Anyway, when I was working on it, I was very full of hope for her, and sentimentally (yes, even I succumb occasionally!), I felt a bit of hope, a dream, some love, was caught up in every stitch. When I said this to the DH, it became Stitches of Loooooooooooooove. LOL.

The laughter continued when I began a gansey sweater for him. He'd look at me and say, "Knit, knit, knit!" to which I'd reply, "Stitches of Looooooooooove!" Then the darling man (humph) lost thirty pounds. I stopped work on the sweater, feeling a wool swimming pool would not flatter him in the least.

Two years later, and I've finally taken heart to try again. This time it's a beautifully cabled aran sweater called Iain. Put out by Figheadh Yarnworks, you cannot purchase it directly from them, but I got it from Patternworks. It calls for Cascade's Ecological Wool, and I let the DH pick his color. Thing is, he picked Awassi, which is a lovely tan and white marled yarn. I was really worried that the texture wouldn't show up well in a non-solid, but I think I worried needlessly.

I began the sweater on Feb. 26th, and in spite of having to write a history paper about Elizabeth I and Mary of Scots (with footnotes and bibliography) which was about 11 pages, I'm still making good progress. It's worked circularly until it divides for the armholes...done that, and I'm almost done the back. This is a detail. Note that since it's unblocked, the center cable is puckered like it's been sucking on a lemon. It hasn't. The smaller side cable is a bit compressed too, but it won't be when it's washed and blocked.

You can see all the cable work here, the broad double-cabling in the middle and then the two simpler cables on either side. The rest of the texturing is a lovely basketweave. This color is a bit more true.

And another angle that shows just how much that center cable is drawing in. Flattened out there is almost a full inch of purl at the narrowest part of the cable. It looks so cool, doesn't it? And even without blocking to make it pop, there's plenty of texture easily seen.

This sweater has the added benefit of having given us another phrase - "Cables of Cuddles." Yes, we're ridiculous together.

But I know you won't tell.

Dignity

As those of you who've read my profile blurb know, I'm a wedding officiant. Those of you that haven't read it, go 'head. We'll wait. {humming the "Saving Grace" theme. Seriously great song.} You back? Okay.

Today I got a call for my services. A local alterations/tuxedo place has some of my cards, and this lady, whose name is Brandon, interestingly enough, picked one up. I sensed some hesitancy right away. That's not too unusual. For most brides, this is the first time that they have done anything like this, and they aren't sure what they should be asking, or need to know. I try to gently lead them into the information we both need.

But that wasn't the reason for this bride's hesitancy, although there were several. First, she's Catholic, from a big Italian family. Her fiance is a WASP, and they don't want to wait a year for him to convert to be married in the Church. So while they want a wedding expressing faith, there's a bit of a line to walk. Not a problem. Many of my couples are of mixed, little or no faith whatsoever. I reassure her on this point.

She tells me that many ministers want them to join their church before they'll do a service. Ludicrous, to my mind; being forced to join a congregation is hardly a recipe for a meaningful religious experience. Others won't do an outdoor wedding - I've done more outside than in.

I learned long ago that when someone has an objection to something you're trying to sell, or win them over to, that the third objection or problem is the real one. And so it was. Brandon opens with, "I'll be honest with you; we've talked to another non-denominational minister." Okay. I have a pretty good idea who that is, there aren't many around here, and more about her shortly. Brandon continued, telling me that the minister wasn't happy with them doing their own vows in addition to the traditional ones, and I haven't any problems with that, as long as they are respectful. I don't care if they provoke laughter, you understand, just not be rude. The bride assures me they'll be in good taste.

Then the kicker. Brandon has an autistic son whom she wants to be the ring-bearer. The other minister said she wouldn't be responsible for that, that Brandon would have to provide someone to walk with him down the aisle so that, and I quote, "...he won't freak out."

Do I need to tell you that said minister lost this service? Whether I get it or not (her phone was dying and she'll need to call me back), there is no way in Hades this couple would hire her. This mother is mortally offended and well she should be. Her son is used to her family, and she is surely the best judge of whether or not he is capable of being her ring-bearer. It's just outrageous that this minister had the nerve to say this.

I'm not surprised, though. I've sadly heard way too many stories about her. A DJ with whom we've worked many times told me the first. He was doing a wedding, and the bride is frantic because it's past time for the service to start and the minister is not there. When she finally does arrive, she insists on the remainder of her payment being made upfront before she'll start the service, stressing the bride even more, and disrupting everything.

Now, I'm all about getting the green upfront, doncha know? But I do it no later than a week before the wedding so it's one less thing to worry about for the bride and groom. I certainly wouldn't hold up a service for which I were late (has never happened, btw) to demand payment. After all, the marriage isn't legal till the minister signs the license, and if you're worried about payment, you just wait to do that part till you're paid. No muss, no fuss. This minister also touts her 'counseling' the couple. I don't believe in counseling a couple; most ministers have little to no psychology training (I do and still don't force-feed counseling on them) and most couples resent the imposition. But I've been twice told that her much-vaunted counseling consists of a five-minute meeting to get the contract signed and get a deposit...at least once in a McDonalds!

Of course, I cannot tell brides any of this without looking bad myself. But I'm furious for Brandon's sake, and for my own. This woman is giving those of us that really care about making the day all the bride dreams of a bad name. And no one has the right to rob a child of being a part of his mother's wedding day, even if it might require a bit more effort.

A minister shouldn't just behave with at least a modicum of dignity. She should make sure she accords it to everyone else, too.

...And LIKE It!

There's a commercial out now that makes steam come out of my ears. Most men would find that alarming in their wives, my DH just reminds me I have a blog for such things. Have I mentioned his brilliance?

Anyway, in this commercial, Mom is using her phone/computer hybrid to get and try out a new recipe. It's reading her step-by-step instructions on how to make paella. Now, I should, in the interest of fairness, mention that paella (pronounced pah-A-yah, long A in the middle) is the fruit of the gods. I have eaten paella in three different countries, and it's my favorite dish. So Mom, all excited, emails her family "Paella for dinner tonight!" Should be happy dancin' all 'round, right?

Wrong. Snarly teenage son gets the text on his phone, and immediately leaves Mom a voice mail, "I don't know what Pah-ella is, but I'm not touching it!" Mom shrugs philosophically, picks up the phone, and orders a pizza.

WTF?!?! Not in MY house! Freakin' brat doesn't like what's put on the table, and he can go hungry. There are starving children in (insert any country here...they all have starving kids, sadly), and you turn up your nose at my cooking? And then expect me to order and pay for another meal for you? I don't THINK so. Especially when you haven't even tried the paella, let alone know what it is.

I grew up in a house with four kids, and parents who were public servants. There were plenty of nights where meat was scarcer than I'd have liked, or soups were made from stock boiled from a chicken carcass, and stretched with macaroni. Chili would get rice added for the second night, and to this day I'm not big on baked beans, it being a cheap protein Mom had to serve often.

In my parent's home, you ate what was on your plate, and you better not gripe. In the economic climate we're in, where so many of our neighbors are struggling, it's a good lesson to be teaching our kids...be grateful you HAVE food on your plate.

Unless it's peas. Then I'll revert to childhood, fill my mouth with them, and suddenly need to visit the bathroom. ;-)

Glorious

I've been really enjoying watching and listening to this and thought you might too. It's a much better camera view than the one on our local nest. Enjoy!

Glass Houses

I'm in a lather today, and not because my legs need shaved. They do, but that's a different story. No, today is a personal matter, so I'm going to share it with all of you. :-)

As many of you know, my father-in-law passed away last May, leaving behind his wife of fifty years. While their daughter lives local to their mother in VA, their sons live in two of the surrounding states, and in Chicago. Not a 'whip around the corner and check on Mom' kinda sitch. So my DH has been very good about calling his mom more frequently, and we've gone down to see her more than we did when my FIL (Father In Law, if you aren't familiar) was alive. It's a bit over an hour through lousy traffic and bad roads to get there, and being self-employed means we have a smidge less time than the 9-5 crowd, but all in all, we're not doing too badly by our lights.

The problem? My SIL (you can work it out, right?). She is partially employed in a church pre-school program, has one kid in high school and one 20 year old who's employed full-time and living at home. She was a huge help in straightening out Dad's estate, the bit that needed done, and on her falls the responsibility for going to doctor appointments with Mom. Not that Mom can't drive perfectly well; she can. But it suits the SIL's chronic martyrdom to schlepp Mom to this stuff, then fill everyone else in while simultaneously telling us how difficult it all is, and by the way, we don't do enough. Every email tells us what we NEED to do...call Mom, visit Mom, send Mom a card.

I have resented this all along on many levels. First, the SIL is now paying back for a LOT of help over the years. She has, by her own admission, never had to hire a babysitter. She's had enough free meals to stock a restaurant. None of her brothers have had these kind of benefits. To my mind, aside from the natural duty one owes good parents...and these are very good people!...she owes considerably more.

Second, these men are all in their late forties/early fifties. I honest to God don't think they need their baby sister to tell them how to have a relationship with their mother. It's neither her place, nor her business. And third, it's counterproductive. No one likes to be nagged!

This has been chaffing my tail for awhile, but for me, it came to head last night. About 10 minutes before I got out of class, the DH posted on Facebook that he was sitting in the car, listening to tunes and waiting for me. She posts back that he "should call his mother; she misses his Wed. night calls."

What? He has called her precisely ONCE on a Wed. He usually avoids that, knowing she's at church on that evening and being unsure when she gets home. She snipes back that Mom is home by 8, same as he called before.

For your smiling, even-tempered Goddess, this is the final straw. But of course, this isn't my sister. My one sister who would act like this, I'd have no compunction about ripping a new one. Not fair of me to cause a rift in a family that I only married into, right? So I posted a comment, saying, "Hey, knock it off! I'm the only one that gets to nag him. :-)" The smile softening it, of course. Ha.

This morning she posts back that it is 'not a nag, just a suggestion.' Really, sweetie? I don't think so. A suggestion happens once. When every email and text and message ends with a 'do this for Mom', it's flippin' nagging. I'm here to tell you.

But you know what? I am VERY good at suggestions. I have a few for SIL. First, get a life. Okay, a little non-specific, but this woman does nothing that isn't circumscribed by church or family. Second, quit babying your children! Her 20 year old daughter who works full-time is still living at home, which a lot of people are in this economy, but to the best of my knowledge she is not paying anything toward her upkeep. And get this...she doesn't DRIVE! Mommy takes her to work and everywhere else she goes. SIL says she wouldn't want her daughter to try driving if she's scared to...even with a free car that Grandma has upgraded from. Of course she's scared; she's spoon fed it, because if she drives, she's out from Mommy's control. Growing up means putting on your big girl panties and dealing with it. Although a pretty young woman, she's never had a boyfriend. Mom and Grandma take pride in the fact that she's not interested in boys (not girls, that's not it); I say it's freakish for a woman her age.

THEN I would suggest she take her 14 year old son to an obesity specialist. The boy has back boobs and waddles, I kid you not. His parents constantly undercut his diet. I've been at a restaurant with them where he tried to substitute a salad for fries on a meal. When the waitress said she could add a salad, but not remove fries from the cost, his dad said to bring 'em anyway, and then both he and his son ate them all. I've seen the kid polish off a whole basket of dinner rolls without one word from his folks.

But let a teacher mention that maybe he's too heavy and needs some help, and Mommy raises holy hell and gets said teacher sanctioned, losing a year of raises. For speaking the truth! He has no friends, and no social life outside church. His uncle the EMT has speculated that the boy will have diabetes soon if he doesn't already, and it will be a miracle if he gets out of his twenties without a heart attack. I suggest that with the rampant hypochondria she and these kids have, maybe she should pay attention to the real issue.

I also suggest that instead of bitching that her husband ignores her, she quit dressing like a frumpy Puritan, try some lipstick and a smile occasionally, and do something to expand her mind. Her only conversation is bragging on her kids and gossiping about church folk. I'd ignore her too. The man works very hard and is a sweetheart; cut him a break.

I suggest too that you use the spa gift card your brothers gave you for all the work you did when Dad was dying. Maybe they have a treatment to pull the pole out of your ass.

See? I told you I was good at suggesting! I feel much better now. :-)

Music to Mine Ears

Wait till you have four and a half minutes in which you want to do something special for yourself, and listen to this. At the risk of being trite, this is deeply meaningful to me, and I think you'll enjoy it too.