knitabit

Knitting as Therapy - Round 3

Maybe I should just title every knit blog posting with that caption. Knitting is just about the only thing standing between me and a psychotic episode of late.

Here's the progress on the Lorna's Lace socks:

The striping is much wider on the second sock. I don't know what that's all about, except that it's a different skein of yarn (same dye lot, however.) I think I'm going to rip out the toe and do a regular toe - side decreases and a grafted end - rather than a short-row toe. The short rows seem to add so much more bulk than simple decreases do.

Why do I need so much knitting therapy of late? You can read the rant in the extended entry if you're so inclined.

I am the manager of my middle son's soccer team. That means I'm responsible for communicating information to parents, collecting money and forms, etc. Being the overachiever that I am, I have thrown some above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty effort into the whole thing. I found an automated phone tree service so I can send recorded messages to everyone at a moment's notice. I post stuff on a web site so they can look things up if they lose their papers. I err on the side of providing too much information rather than too little. I volunteered to do this, so I try not to whine about it (except to you, my dear blog readers.) And the reason I volunteered is because previous team managers were doing things inefficiently, causing them to burn out after only a season or two on the job. I saw some areas where I thought I could do things more efficiently and even make it kind of fun for everyone involved. I try to insert an element of humor or irony into every email message that I send, to keep things light and not so serious. I've been very satisfied with how things are going and have been thinking I could continue doing this for another year or two, if the team wanted me to.

So I was a little taken aback when a handful of parents start giving me grief.

We're headed to an out-of-town tournament this weekend - a tournament that the parents voted UNANIMOUSLY to go to. I have spent countless hours booking hotel rooms, printing maps and driving directions, making arrangements for a team dinner, setting up a schedule, putting packets together, etc. All of this during perhaps the busiest month, work-wise, that I have had in the last five years.

The tournament organizers have very strict requirements about paperwork - providing copies of birth certificates, medical release forms, that kind of thing. If a kid's paperwork isn't in order, the kid doesn't play. Period. I provided copies of the forms to the parents several weeks ago. I have repeatedly reminded them of the importance of these forms. I've provided extra copies when they lose them. I give them paper copies. I send them as email attachments. I give them URL's where they can download their own copies.

So now it's the day before we leave, and four parents have yet to provide me with their paperwork. And get this - three of them expect me to drive to their house and get it from them. I am just dumbfounded by this. And they send me emails with an undercurrent of hostility about how busy they are, about how I didn't wait for them at practice (waiting for 20 minutes after practice ends isn't enough?), about how their kids are sick, etc.

Well excuse me. I've got four kids, two jobs, and a husband that's been working 70 hours weeks lately. And I've got a bad cold and PMS. So there.

I am refusing to make the drive, and one mom threatened to pull her son from the tournament. I called her bluff, and she agreed to take the materials to the coach's house (closer to where she lives), where I will be picking up some stuff tomorrow morning.

Part of me wants to expose these a**holes to the other nice parents on the team. But I will refrain.

Taking this tangent even further afield, my husband came across a neat book last week that kind of puts this behavior in context. It's called Generations and although it was published more than 10 years ago, it's surprisingly relevant. The book has helped me to see that the parents that are giving me grief are of the Boomer generation and can't help being demanding, perfectionist and whiny. And I can say that because I'm of that generation, too, and I see that some of my own strident opinions and actions are part of that same picture.

My husband and I watched "Garden State" last night, and it is a perfect metaphor for Generation Thirteen. Some readers of the book have dumped on the authors' harsh treatement of Generation Thirteen, but I think this movie does a really good job of portraying the hand this generation's been dealt, and how they might end up making the best of it.

Back from the plains of Eastern Colorado

I've logged more than 600 miles in a little red Mazda over the last few days. Fortunately, I did have time for some knitting:

Here's the second sock of the Cherry Tree Hill pair that I knit for my mom. They're a bit snug on me, but fit well enough for a vanity pose.

Here's the same sock modeling my new shoes:

My most vivid memory of last year's convention was how bad my feet hurt at the end of it. So Wednesday morning, I squeezed in a trip to Phelp's Shoes to get me a pair of Dansko's. This pair has removable insoles so I can drop my orthotics in there and ta-da! Two and a half days of walking/standing comfort, no problem!

Of course, once one pair of socks is completed, another must start. Here is my progress on a pair using some Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock Yarn in a variegated pattern:

Yes, the color pooling is very weird and stripey. Unless I do an afterhought heel, the striping around the ankle will be weirder yet. I think I'm going to stick with the heel flap, though; anymore, I'm into comfort and function more than appearances.

Today's posting is a three-parter; the knitting part; some comments about my trip; and finally some Blog and Knitting Resolutions now that I might have some more time on my hands.

The part about the trip

I left Wednesday at about one o'clock in the afternoon to drive down to La Junta. There are a couple of ways to get to La Junta from here; since the weather was nice, I took Highway 71 from Limon to Ordway. A more desolate stretch of two-lane highway you cannot imagine, and I loved every minute of it. I had some CD's going at full blast and I de-stressed a little more with each passing mile.

La Junta is a delightful community that I would could move to in a heartbeat. I understand it is the most vibrant of the Arkansas Valley towns as you drive east from Pueblo. The convention went well; some of the speakers were duds but all in all, we got a lot of compliments for putting on a well-run and informative show. It was quite profitable, too, which is a good thing for our little organization right now.

I have to digress and write a little bit about our Thursday evening social event. It was dinner and a show at the Koshare Indian Kiva on the campus of Otero Junior College. The building and the event represent one local community's attempt, I think, to try to make something right with all that's gone wrong with Native American issues in our country.

There's been a lot of sad news items of late along these lines. One was in our local community, about renaming a street. The street was originally named for Colonel Chivington, the ringleader of the Sand Creek Massacre. What was sad about that whole thing was some opinions expressed in our local newspaper along the lines of "just get over it" and accusing those of wanting to change the name of the street of being "politically correct." Fifteen years ago, my sister lived one block over from Chivington Drive. And it gave me the creeps every time I drove past it.

Another issue has been Ward Churchill, the latest actor at center stage in a revolting series of scandals at the University of Colorado. (While the wingnuts are calling for his head, I personally would prefer to see his writings lose out in the marketplace of ideas. Otherwise, his sorry ass will be elevated to the status of martyr.) But anyway, where I was heading with this was that as a result of the spotlight on his writings, his dubious and likely false claims of Indian heritage have now come to light. I find his theft of a false identity more sickening than his writings.

Anyway, with all this going on in the background, I found myself on Thursday night at an Indian Kiva replica built in 1933 by the local Boy Scout troop. The authentic Indian dances were performed by a bunch of teenage boys, all working towards their Eagle Scout qualifications. They aren't Indians themselves and are quite upfront about it. Yet they have learned and passed down some authentic and wonderful Indian Dances. During the show, the narrator explained where each dance came from (when the troop went to a Chicago exhibition in the 1930's; from a trip to the New Mexico Pueblo in the 1950's, etc.) Every year, they retain a Native American Advisor - I suppose to not only keep things as authentic as possible but also to avoid exploiting the culture they seek to honor.

The faces of the dancers showed diverse ethnicity and indeed a roster of their Head Chiefs reflects that.

I hope to take my kids there someday. And I sure hope this vibrant little Boy Scout troop makes it to their 100th anniversary and beyond with their celebration of a culture not their own but so wonderfully borrowed.

And to further immerse myself in the history and culture of the Great Plains, I went up to Cheyenne, Wyoming yesterday for two of my boys to take part in an indoor soccer tournament. Characteristically, the wind was blowing in excess of 50 mph and no amount of chapstick could keep my lips from drying out as the day went on. On the way home, we took Highway 85 instead of the interstate and saw a couple hundred head of antelope.

All that driving out on the empty plains just does my soul good.

Blog and Knitting Resolutions

Two more weeks to go, and DARCA will be all grown up and moved out on its own. Although my consulting responsibilites will grow a bit, I'm looking forward to a bit more time to devote to more soul-pleasing pursuits and of course knitting is near the top of the list.

In the blog arena, I'd like to organize my blog posts into categories so I (and possibly a reader or two) can read past posts more effectively.

Of course, no amount of nifty knit blogging is possible without actually knitting. I've got just the sleeves to go on the baby sweater, and the sleeves on Roscalie as well. I'm going to continue to keep socks going at all times, and intend to make some simple pullovers and cardigans over the course of the year. I've also got a good concept for a felted bag in mind, and I'd like to write up and publish the pattern if it turns out well.

The Movie One

Okay, I'll do this again and then it's back to knitting.

1. The last movie you went to see in a theater:

The Sponge Bob Squarepants Movie. I laughed, I was entertained. The kids wanted to see it, so give me a break.

2. The last movie you watched at home:

The Village. Barely watchable; stick a fork in M. Night - he's done. The Sixth Sense was so good - I was so totally suckered and the ending caught me completely off guard. This one, I saw the ending coming from almost the very beginning.

3. How many movies do you own?

Somewhere around 60. We're the type of people who watch movies over and over again.

4. What was the last movie you bought?

Shrek 2

5. Got Netflix (or a similar service)?

No. It's probably a good idea but it sounds like it requires some degree of organization on my part, plus it doesn't allow for spontaneous Friday night decisions.

6. List five movies you adore/mean a lot to you:

I have all of these on DVD and watch them repeatedly.

1. Local Hero. I just love this movie. Everything about it. The music, the scenery, the humor, the plot, the meteor shower, Burt Lancaster.

2. Galaxy Quest. Two years ago, we actually planned a vacation destination (Goblin Valley, Utah) because a scene in this movie was filmed there. This movie has so many one-liners ("This scene was badly written!"), so much humor...a must-see for all ages.

3. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I know that men like to debate the Ginger vs. Mary Ann thing, but for us gals, it's Paul vs. Robert. And it's Paul! Paul! Paul! Paul! Another great source of line-liners. ("Who are those guys?")

4. Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure. Wickedly funny and definitely not just for kids. Plus the "knitting and knitting" quote (play the sound bite by clicking on Pee-Wee's picture on the right side of this page!)

5. Fiddler on the Roof. Great music and some genuine emotion. No one-liners, though.

7. Name your guilty pleasure movie (or genre):

Dr. Zhivago. I don't know why - I'm not particularly fond of Omar Sharif nor his character. It's just a big awesome epic that I've seen dozens of times and enjoy watching over and over again.

8. Name 3 people to whom you're going to pass these questions on, and why:

Um, none. I'm just not a chain-mailer kind of person.