New Year’s Eve Date

Yes, I said date and not dates.  I’ve only gone out on a New Year’s Eve date one time in my life.  I’m a down to earth girl, so it never really bothered me not to go out, but I’m not quite as down to earth as the person who took me out that year.

It’s not even a long story.  We went to see True Grit starring John Wayne.  The movie theater was dead that night. 

Now . . . I’m not opposed to John Wayne movies.  My dad loved them and I ended up buying him as many of the John Wayne movies as I could find – spread out over each gift-giving holiday that came around.  I guess because of all that exposure, I didn’t think much of my fun night out.  I ended the date after the movie – politely – but that was that.  I guess I had some preconceived, unmet, unexpressed expectation that New Year’s Eve would be a little more EXCITING – but what did I know?  I grew up in Smalltownville.  Perhaps my date did too.

All these years later, I find myself smiling today.  You may or may not know what’s out in the theaters now.  It’s a remake of True Grit starring Jeff Bridges.  I think the weather here is going to be too miserable, cold, wet/snowy to go anywhere this evening – but a part of me thinks I should go – for Auld Lang Syne – or something like that.

Nah!  Once was enough.

As I wind down the year I just want to say how grateful I’ve been for my blogging buddies.  I’ve learned a lot by reading your thoughts and accomplishments.  I’ve also learned a lot by reading the comments at the end of your blogs and mine.  I am inspired everyday by what folks can do.  It keeps me interested in this old planet I put my feet on every morning when I get out of bed (well not til I get downstairs, I guess.)

I’ve found great recipes, great knitting patterns, great free eBooks, great photos, great humor, great poems, great stories of personal kindness that sound fictional.  It makes me want to come back for more – but also to do more myself.

I think Goodnight has New Year’s Eve planned for us, but she did ask me to read another story or two, first.

Last night she had her head on my lap again, listening to the old Christmas story I decided to read to her.  So much for easing her into drowsiness.  It was so funny that I laughed aloud til I couldn’t speak.  She bolted upright from my lap and asked me to prove that’s what it said and that I hadn’t made it up.  I hadn’t made it up.

The short Christmas piece I read was called Hoodoo McFiggin’s Christmas by Stephen Leacock. 

Leacock was born in England and moved to Canada when he was six years old.  He died in 1944, so you have an idea of the era in which he wrote.  He was a humorist.  Jack Benny and Groucho Marx were fans of Leacock’s humor.  Hoodoo McFiggin’s Christmas doesn’t give away his Canadian influence, but another selection we read last night did.  It was peppered with ‘eh?’  Even Goodnight guessed where he was from.

Hoodoo McFiggin’s Christmas is not very long at all.  You can read it in under thirty minutes.  Here’s a link to a web page that has it nicely done:  http://www.operationlettertosanta.com/Tales/hoodoo_mcfiggins_christmas.htm  The piece is in public domain and available on the Project Gutenberg website, too.  It’s from a larger work called Literary Lapses by Stephen Leacock.

Though Leacock was a humorist, not all of his writing was funny.  In his piece ”Merry Christmas” from the same work, Literary Lapses, we find Santa Claus very sad because of WWI.  He has a conversation with Father Time.  Very poignant.  It’s not long, either.  Check it out if you don’t have a New Year’s Eve date to go see True Grit! 

Happy New Year and farewell to MMX!

A Quiet Night

We had a quiet night last night.  Goodnight was “tired but not sleepy tired”, so I read to her.

We started at the table after our evening round of our holiday rummy tournament.  But nearly as soon as I began, she placed her head on the table, eyes closed.  “I’m not sleeping, Gram.  I’m trying to imagine it.”

She looked a little uncomfortable in her ‘imagining’ position, so we moved to the couch with Goodnight wrapped in a quilt, her head on a pillow.  The Christmas tree lights were on and everything was still.  Homey setting, innit?

Well, almost.  I was reading from . . . . my laptop.

I collect Christmas stories from long ago.  Those that are in public domain find there way to sites where they are available for free so I download them.  Last night I read A Kidnapped Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum of the wonderful Oz books.

A Kidnapped Santa Claus is a short story – perfect for a young one who was “tired but not sleepy tired.”  As I read, Goodnight pulled the quilt tighter and higher, settling in and winding down.

I love these moments with her.  We get to have our own little world without intrusion.  Oh, we live in the real world with much of what it has to offer, enjoy television from time to time, the internet, too, of course.  What I hope lingers in her memory, however, is he head on my lap and her mind in the Laughing Valley – at  least for last night it was Laughing Valley.

A Kidnapped Santa Claus is available on the web in numerous locations.  Here are a couple links to the book:

Read Central.com

http://www.readcentral.com/chapters/L.-Frank-Baum/A-Kidnapped-Santa-Claus/002

Project Gutenberg

http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/519

Check out both sites for other free eBooks as well.

                                                                                                                                                                    My lantern, my photo~

“Plant a Tree” – Super Scarf #20

As luck would have it, I completed a second Super Scarf today.

I decided to knit another tribute to the 2,012 Trees Project of the Indianapolis Super Bowl Host Committee.  I just checked the project website and it states that 1,156 trees of their goal of 2,012 by Super Bowl XLVI have been planted.  Check the link for more information about the project or to read about those in partnership with the effort.

Because my first tree Super Scarf had deciduous trees in the design,  and because I was normously influenced by snowshoeing through the pines in the woods near my home, I decided to knit some evergreens for this scarf. 

The length of the scarf is worked in seed stitch.  I like the texture and provides a nice background for the different styles of knit trees.

From left to right above, the first tree is an elongated stich tree.  Next is a bobble tree. The third tree is  done with an i-cord long enough to bend into a tree shape.  The tree on the right is done with the fur stitch.  After I completed the tree, I cut the loops and then brushed the loose strands with a carding brush.

I don’t think my trees count toward the 2,012 trees goal, but I know my scarf will count toward the 8,000 Super Scarves  goal.

Happy knitting!

“Lending a Hand” – Super Scarf #19

It’s time for another Super Scarf.

With today’s scarf, I pay tribute to the volunteers themselves – the ones we’re trying to outfit with scarves for Super Bowl XLVI, Indianapolis, 2012.  Volunteers offer their time and talents in so many ways and will do so for the Indianapolis Super Bowl, too.  The Indianapolis Super Bowl Host Committee won’t let their services go unrecognized, but I wanted to add my own tribute to the 8000 anticipated folks who will step up to help host such a HUGE knitting (um, I mean football) event. 

As of today, the Super Scarf site’s online tally states that 2,060 scarves have been received.  Thanks knitters!

My “Lending a Hand” Super Scarf is a seed stitch scarf background with large half-mittens at each end of the scarf.  The mittens are meant to be more like pockets than actual mittens, though they will work to warm someone’s hands, too.  The oversized mittens will accommodate a variety of hand sizes, too!

One mitten has XLVI knit into it – the Roman numerals for ’46′ which will be the Super Bowl number in 2012.  I left the opposite mitten blank so the official Super Bowl patch can be sewn there.  Patches are sewn on when the scarves arrive in Indianapolis.

If you know how to knit and can find the time to knit a scarf for a 2012 Super Bowl volunteer, then click the link above to find the directions, the specifications, and mailing address.

Happy knitting!

Let the Christmas Games Begin!

Goodnight, Gr8 and I are just chilling out here in Smalltownville.  We’ve been busy shoveling snow – same as last year – but in between time, we are playing the 2010 version of The Christmas Games!

Some games are concocted and some are traditional board or card games.

Here’s an example of a concocted game.  We call it the Snowman Toss.

Line up three graduated bowls.  Little prizes or candy are in each bowl.  We toss a little hacky sack (because it won’t bounce out) and try to hit each bowl in three successive throws.  Three throws equals one turn.  Winner keeps whats in each bowl.  Different treats are put in the bowls for next player.  Goodnight did it on her first turn.

While we are concocting games to play, we are also having an ongoing Rummy tournament this week.

Goodnight is up two games over Gr8, and I’m trailing in third (which is also last place here, BTW)  That’s okay – it’s only Monday.  LOTS of time for me to improve my standing this week!

Something Amiss in the Manger

I’ve always been fond of Christmas, but even more so because of the events of the story I posted yesterday.

I had a little Nativity set arranged on a low coffee table in the living room for Angel to see.  It was the perfect height for a toddler to get a close look at the sheep, the shepherds, the baby, etc.  She always seemed entranced at the figures.  They were plastic, but she always seemed to look and not touch . . . . well almost always.

One Christmas – when Angel was a toddler, she was looking at her Christmas picture books near the Christmas tree while I was washing dishes in the kitchen.  We were in a small apartment, so she wasn’t far away from me.  I knew she was looking at her books, so I didn’t pay attention every second.

When the lastof the pots and pans were put away, I went into the living room to read a story to her.  She was sitting by the coffee table and something was amiss in the manger.

Joseph and baby Jesus were gone, Mary was on her side in the stable, the shepherds were standing around in a circle, the Nativity angel was amid the shepherds, and my Angel was smiling at me.

Gram:  What are you doing, honey?

Angel:  Playing.

Gram:  Whatcha playing?

Angel:  Christmas

Gram:  Can I play with you?

Angel:  Sure, Mommy!

Gram:  What do you want me to do?

Angel:  Nothing, Mommy.  Shhhhhh.

Gram: (whispering) Why do I have to shhhhh?

Angel:  Cuz Mary is tired and taking a nap.

Gram: (still whispering) Okay?  Where is Joseph?

Angel:  He went to get a job.

Gram: And where is the Baby Jesus, honey?

Angel:  He snuck out to play with the sheep guys while his mommy sleeps.

Gram:  Why isn’t the angel on the roof?

Angel:  Cuz the sheep guys were having a party for the baby.

I learned a lot by just listening.

Christmas in the words of a child . . . not bad advice, really.  Find some sheep guys, have a party for the baby, invite the angels and take a nap when you’re tired.  It sounds so simple that way.

Too bad Joseph missed out on so much . . . . .   (Not THE Joseph.  You have to read my previous post to understand.)

Capes, Cabs, Cops and Carpenters Named Joe.

I should have known I would go into labor that night.  There was a snowstorm out outside and I had eaten beans for dinner . . . .    I know, I know.  An expectant mother expects, but there are occasional lapses in expecting when the expected is over due.  My obstetrician had already tried to induce labor twice –  and twice he sent me home – without Goodnight’s mother, Angel.

I didn’t feel any panic – just the irony of the timing.  I had my meager bag packed.  I never unpacked it after the two previous attempts, so getting myself ready for the trip to the hospital was not a big deal.  What ended up being a big deal was how I was going to get to there.

I was living on my own, a necessary move to assure a safe pregnancy for my child.  Her father, my first  husband (not Officer Friendly), was abusive with a capital ‘A’.  I was managing and moving on.  I had no time to look back, so I luckily avoided bitterness, anger and hatred.

The thing is, I had no car.  I grew up in Smalltownville and walked everywhere I went.  I had two jobs in Smalltownville and even in college, I either walked to work, or rode my bike.  When I escaped the dangers of an abusive marriage, I moved to a larger city where there was a transit system and learned to maneuver quite comfortably, so not having a car was never a huge issue. 

At least not until that night . . . .

I got myself ready for a winter snowstorm walk to the bus stop seven blocks away.  I had luckily found an Austrian wool cape to wear during the winter of my pregnancy, so that was the last of the layers I threw on before I headed out the door.

I made my way to the bus stop and stood there to wait.  It was the closest bus stop to where I was living, but had no schedule posted.  After waiting an hour, in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm, with contractions every so often, I decided to walk to another bus stop to see if there was a schedule there.  There was, and to my dismay, I read that there was no bus service between midnight and 5:00 a.m.  I’m from Smalltownville.  What did I know?  

Plan B, I guess.  I fished a quarter out of my pocket and went to the nearest pay phone to call a cab.  I gave the dispatcher my location and my destination.  Then I waited and waited.  No cab ever came.  Cabs weren’t in the habit of driving to a ‘street corner’ destination for a pick-up, especially in a snowstorm in the middle of the night, because they usually turned out to be a ruse.  What did I know?  Smalltownville at its most innocent, I suppose.

Plan C . . . hmm, did I have one?  Yes, of course.  I started to walk to the hospital.  Now, mind you, I wasn’t making much progress and I had already been out in the storm for several hours.  But I kept walking – with sporatic breaks to grab onto a stop sign and double over with each contraction.

A police car drove by once, while I was slowly making my way in the snow.  That is the only vehicle I saw that night.  I watched them turn the corner ahead of me and go out of sight.

Little did I know they had doubled back around the block.

Eventually, the squad car slowed next to me and the officer on the passenger side rolled down his window to ask what I was doing out in the storm.  I gave him the ‘no bus service, no cab’ story and mentioned that I was walking to the hospital.  I estimated that I still had ten miles to go.  I neglected to tell him I was in labor.

The Officer Driver (OD) said something to the Officer Passenger (OP) and then OP asked me if I would like a lift.  I declined, at first, but after some insistence, accepted.  OP got out of the car and opened up the back door for me.  I wasn’t carrying much and the Austrian wool cape hid my pregnant girth, so they had no clue I was in labor.

I got into the back seat and OD started toward the hospital.  OP did most of the talking.  He asked me my name and where I lived, etc.  I suspect they were trying to see if I was drunk or crazy.  He finally got around to asking me why I needed to get to the hospital.

Gram: Well I’ve been in labor since last evening and the hospital staff knows I’m on the way.

Vrrrrrrrrrrrroooooooooommmmmm!

OD hit the gas and the lights and the siren all at the same time!!!  OP reached for the radio and called in to HQ.

Yikes!  What happened to silent night, all is calm?  I was the only one who didn’t panic. 

OP finished his call to HQ and started chatting nervously to me – asking more questions.  Why was I walking?  Why was I alone?  Did I have other children?  Did I want him to contact anyone?  Did I want them to stay with me during labor?

I just answered all the questions:  No car, no bus, no cab, no husband, no, no, and no.

I must admit that the ride in the squad car made the trip much quicker than my boots would have.  That snow hadn’t let up at all!

As we pulled up to the E.R. entrance, OP asked me again if I wanted some company while I waited out the labor and delivery.  This was the era when abusive husbands were taken for a walk outside, talked to, and then sent back into the home where the wife usually suffered for whomever had called the police.  But some officers were starting to get “IT.”  I declined their offer nonetheless and tried to get out of the back seat.

Umm . . . no handles on the inside there.  Duh!  I’m from Smalltownville.  What did I know?

OD and OP both got out of the car.  OP opened the door for me and helped me out. OD carried mylittle bag.  They escorted me into the hospital to report that ‘we’ had arrived.  I thanked them there and they both extended one last offer to stay.  I couldn’t imagine two strange men with guns and billy clubs attending the birth of a child . . . even after the third time they asked,  so I thanked them and watched them walk away.

The snow fell on their hats, their shoulders . . .  and their gun belts as they left.  Don’t feel too sad for them.  I declined the similar services of a Benedictine nun, too, before the night was over.

Angel was born in peace and quiet a few hours later.  My obstetrician handed her to me and hugged us both. (I’ll tell the beautiful story of Dr. Steve another time.)  And I got lost in my new role, immediately.  “Hello there!  You’re name is ‘Angel’, and I’ve been waiting to meet you.  Merry Christmas!  You’re a little late for the holiday, but we can celebrate now.”

Each year, about this time, I think fondly back to Officer Driver and Officer Passenger and my squad car ride to the hospital in the middle of the night and in the middle of a snowstorm.  It all gets mixed into a wonderful, ironic Christmas memory for me.

Angel’s father’s name was Joe.  He worked as a carpenter.  Her due date was December 25th.

Laugh or cry as the spirit moves you.  Capes, cabs, cops, and carpenters named Joe.  I don’t have that kind of imagination.  I assure you it’s the truth!

And if you’re still doing your holiday baking – add a double dose of sprinkles on your Christmas Cop Cookies!  You make some, don’t you? 

Christmas in the House of Knitter

My all-time favorite thing to knit?

Christmas stockings!!!  Can you tell?

I stuff them all with juniper

because I like the smell.

One has mirrors, one has bells.

One has little trees.

One has snowballs, two have stripes.

Classic Arans always please.

I hang them in the kitchen.

I hang them on each door.

I hang them on the railing.

I think I’ve room for more.

I hang them every where I can.

It makes the house seem “dressed.”

Now . . . can you guess which one of these

I like the very best?

 

   

   

   

Goodnight’s Christmas Card Art for 2010

Each year for the last several years. I’ve asked Goodnight to draw something that I can use for our Christmas cards.  I don’t give her any parameters.  It lets me see what’s on her mind.  She’s been using MS Paint.

I do two things with her art: 1) I print it, frame it and hang it in the living room for the holidays; 2) I use it as the art work for the front of our holiday greeting cards.

Below is her artwork for this year.

 

It’s a Magical, Wonderful . . . . .

I am not prone to a lot of impulsive, last-minute decisions.  I am even less inclined to do so when standing in queue outside in the cold of winter is involved.  But yesterday, I did just that!  We did just that.  I took Jelly Bean the Evil Queen to movie party/viewing of It’s a Wonderful Life starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed.  The classic movie was shown in a classic theater.

Since it was a last-minute decision, Goodnight and I had to head into town early enough to get our tickets at the box office.  I couldn’t find any Sunday hours posted, but I figured they’d expect walk-ups like us.  I was right!  We got our tickets an hour and a half before the doors opened.  For the movie viewing, the seating was general admission, so I knew we’d have to stand in line a while to get a seat where Goodnight thought she’d like to sit.

After purchasing our tickets, we walked to a nearby food court and grabbed a bite to eat.  We took our time, chatting leisurely over lunch.  Goodnight is pleasant company and I love to listen to the news from her world.  She’s got a new science assignment (different from the bacteria she’s growing at home) and this assignment is “just for fun.”  She has to research a disease and she chose cholera.  I’m glad she has such an upbeat attitude toward her school work.

When we finished eating and chatting, we walked back over to the theater and stood outside to wait for the doors to open.  We were the first in line.  I didn’t plan that necessarily, but hey – it worked for me.

We chatted more, and sang some Christmas songs quietly until another family got in line behind us.  The dad pulled out is cell phone and started reading an e-book to his family.  As soon as he read one sentence, I knew which book he was reading.  It took Goodnight a bit longer, but she eventually recognized C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.  We had a chilly wait outside the theater, but evesdropping while he read the e-book,  made the time pass more pleasurably.

The doors opened at 1:00 and our first stop had to be at the concession stand.  The price of admission for the movie included a box of popcorn from the candy shop where Officer Friendly ended our first date.  We got our popcorn and made our way to the seats Goodnight chose.

The theater has a main floor and two balcony levels.  The second balcony was closed for the movie viewing, so Goodnight chose front seats on the lower balcony.  We were front and center.

The stage area was bare except for the theater’s Wurlitzer organ and the movie screen hanging above center stage.  The place was decked out for Christmas and they had a scene from the movie paused on the screen.  We had entered Bedford Falls.

 

In the photo above, you can see a gentleman seated at the organ on the left.  He played a half hour Christmas carol concert on the Wurlitzer prior to the start of the movie.   It was really a delightful wait.

Two little angels made their way around the theater, passing out bells to all the children.  There are places in the movie where bells are rung and that provided the clue for audience participation.  After all, everyone knows that ‘every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.’ 

Just before the movie began, a woman came out and explained that this event would also be a ‘talk-along’ movie.  There are classic lines in the movie that most folks know, and they decided to have them printed on the screen at the appropriate time and let the audience speak the along with the characters.  We had a few of those talk-along moments throughout the movie.  I was able to capture an image of the final talk-along line – near the very end of the movie.

Early in the movie, Jimmy Stewart’s character, George, attends a high school dance held to celebrate graduation of his younger brother’s high school class.  At the dance scene, the movie was paused and the curtain rose on the theater stage.  Three couples came out and danced the Charleston.

At the conclusion of the movie, the curtains again rose to show a beautiful tree and a large group of carollers.  There was a carol sing-along at that time.  We were all accompanied by the gentleman at the Wurlitzer organ.  It even snowed on stage!

One of the reasons the top balcony was closed was because they didn’t expect a full theater, but another reason was because at the same time it snowed on stage, theater personnel dropped white balloons from that upper level.  The balloons were not blown up very large.  It gave the impression of snow over the audience, with less work to clean up. 

It was a magical, wonderful . . . afternoon, and a lovely way to spend time with the Queen a week before Christmas.