The Tour de Chimp

For Immediate Release.  

Originally Patrick was going to walk from Traverse City, Michigan to Chicago, Illinois.  His feet weren’t too happy about that plan, so he shifted gears (pun intended) and is now cycling from Cadillac, Michigan to Chicago, Illinois “to raise awareness about the plight of endangered wild Chimpanzees in Africa” and to raise money for the Jane Goodall Institute.  

Be inspired.  Sponsor Patrick.  Send him a note.  Follow his progress.  

(This is me Being Proud of my brother.)

First Day

Do they look ready?  

Our lives have long run by a seasonal clock, driven by the turning of the school year.  First as chronic students, and then as perpetrators of education, both higher and public, in three states, our lives have always ebbed and flowed semester by semester, graduation by graduation, summer break by summer break.  

In legend and lore, the return to school happens at the end of summer, as nature begins to reach toward fall.  The heat of the summer has passed.  The air is crisp and refreshing.  The leaves are beginning to hint that they might be ready to change color.  I know this because the advertisements for Back to School show shiny-faced young people wearing long pants and sweaters over their cute little t-shirts.  (And has anyone noticed the vests and the bubble dresses and the leggings this year?  It’s like I’m thirteen all over again)

This is not the reality in our world.  We have counted down to the end of summer vacation through the hottest, most stifling time of year for Coastal Texas.  The sea breeze that keeps things bearable the rest of the year often dies for a while in August.  The cooler temperatures during the recent rains, give way to a muggy sauna when the clouds pass.  Even the suggestion of a pair of long pants, let along a jaunty sweater over a scoop-neck T makes me want to melt into a puddle on the spot.  

But it’s time.  

Even without those advertisements and the mountains of school supplies in the aisles, I’d know.

  

I have this (rare) urge to clean the house.  To sweep out the remains of last year’s graduation and prom and football season and second grade.  To turn out the scraps of old lessons and homework.  To gather up the nubs of crayon and let the Sonars turn them into some kind of wax sculpture that will still draw.  Some people have this urge in springtime, I know.  Which, in a place where you’re packed into your house against the cold for several months out of the year, makes sense.  But here, where most of the winter sees us with the doors open wide, running around in our shirt sleeves, the jaunty cardigan slung over the back of the chair just in case, the Springtime just doesn’t feel like a huge shift from what came before.  

Whether it’s coming in August or September, whether I’m in Pennsylvania or South Texas or Southern New Mexico, the start of the school year just seems to be programmed into my blood.  Even before the high school football players start practicing in pads rather than t-shirts, or the marching band starts marching AND playing at the same time, I know it’s coming.  Partner is still in the educational business of course, but I’ve been out of it for the past five years or so.  Just when I thought maybe I’d recover from the pull of the school schedule though, my kids started getting big enough to be school players.  

This year, that’s ‘kids,’ plural.  Both Sonar X8 and Sonar X5 will be attending school.  Their clothes for tomorrow are hanging on the ends of their beds.  They’re tucked in (not sleeping) with butterflies about tomorrow.  

I have butterflies too.  :)

Crazy Crafter

The first sign of the end of our summer has arrived.  Partner returned to work this week after his six-week summer vacation.  I love that he has had this time to hang out with us.  I know that we are very lucky to have this down time.  I also know that the structure of our local school system is what allows this and I support it fully.  I’ve heard all of the arguments for year-round school, and some of them are very good.  But for us, I would not trade summer vacation for anything.  Staying up late, sleeping in late, doing whatever with our time for a while.  It is profoundly soul-nourishing and relaxing.  

(Anyone who might believe that having some time off in the summer makes public school jobs somehow less “real” or less “full time” than jobs that continue throughout the year, please note that Partner will make up for that time before Christmas.  He works enough extra hours supervising sporting events, meeting with parents and community leaders and in general purpose long and emotional days to eat through that six-weeks worth of off-time very quickly.  And yet we still love the job.  Go figure.)

Over the next ten months, his job will slowly deplete our reserves, until, by the time May arrives again, I will not want to hear another story about teenagers. Or parents of teenagers.  Or teachers.  Or the dress code.  Definitely not the (stupid) dress code.  Not one.  

In four more weeks, Sonar X8 and Sonar X5 will go to school as well.  Third grade for the one, and the Kindergarten premier for the other.  We are all very excited.  Ok, maybe Sonar X3 isn’t so excited.  

In the meantime, I’m trying to draw out the indulgences of the summer schedule with a few more summer projects in my queue.  

Four fabrics that will be transformed into Partner shirts over the next week.  The brown and sand are yummy cottons that will be transformed into two complementary two-tone bowling-style shirts.  The copper and the heathery pink are stretch poplins that will become long-sleeved, banded-collar dress shirts (unless I don’t have enough of the coppery one, in which case it will be a short-sleeved shirt of a different style).  He’s trying to get away from white dress shirts.  

Two of these yarns will become two stealth projects.  The other two were just on sale and I couldn’t resist them.  I’m weak sometimes.  Three cottons, one wool.  

Some crazy knitting people have taken to using the Summer Olympics as a time to try to accomplish some challenging knitting project (similar to the Knitting Olympics, held every four years during the Winter Olympics, or the Tour de Fleece for the spinner-types, held during the recent Tour de France).  The idea is to choose a challenging project and start and complete it between the lighting of the torch at the Opening Ceremonies and the dousing of the torch during the closing ceremonies.  (If this interests you, drop over to Ravelry, a social networking/cataloguing/showing-off group for fiber/needle/hook-types, and join up.  Their front page splashes out all the details.)

I have complicated feelings about the political implications of a Chinese Olympic games.   The Sonars and I are taking an opportunity to learn about China (the G-rated, 3-8 year-old version), sports, athletes, and understand the purpose and history of the Olympics.   But I am not choosing to officially participate in the Ravelympics per se.  I am choosing to use the time to motivate myself to plow through the extensive queue of knitting projects piled around me.  

On the needles:

1.  Partner hoodie.  Probably about 75% complete.  (Note to self:  No. More. July. Sweaters.)

2.  Deployment socks for BIL.  10% complete.  This is my porta-knitting.  Needs to be done before November at the latest.  Earlier would be better.  

Up next:

3.  Kilt Hose for uncle.  Pattern TBD.  Yarn on order.

4.  Mystery Stole 4.  This year’s pattern is hosted by Melanie Gibbons again, but her mom, Georgina Bow is the pattern designer.  This one begins in a month and lasts about six weeks.  Yarn on order (some wool/silk blend from Knit Picks), beads are in the stash.  The idea here is that once a week, participants (thousands of us all over the world) will get a clue from Melanie and Georgina.  We won’t know ahead of time what the final Stole will look like, so the project unfolds like a bit of a puzzle.  A Mystery, if you will.  It’s a great knitting adventure, stretching my skills in a direction I don’t usually go (i.e. to lace).  (If this interests you, go join the Yahoo Mystery Stole Group before September 12.  The first clue is released September 5).

5.  Stealth project A.  It’s small and green.

6.  Stealth project B.  It’s also small, but not green.  

7.  Stealth project C.  It will be very very small.  Color and yarn TBD.  

8.  When the weather turns a little cooler (For five days in December.  Maybe.) Sonar X3 wants a new pair of socks.  When the time comes, he’ll choose yarn from the stash, and I bet they’ll be striped. 

9.  I want to make myself an Urban Aran, Cardiganized.  We’ll see if I ever get to this one.  Purple.  I want it to be purple, I think.  Or a rich, jewely blue.  For some reason, most people making this one are sticking to browns and greys, with a couple of notable exceptions.  I’ve seen gorgeous ones in blue and red.  

Anyway, here’s the “Plan,” inasmuch as I ever do such a thing as plan:

Finish the Partner Sweater before the Olympics start (two sleeves and eight inches of body, all stockinette).  Then do the three stealth projects during the Olympics (I told you, they’re small).  Then finish the deployment socks and start the Kilt Hose before Mystery Stole opens.  Hopefully I can knit the Kilt Hose alongside the Stole, and be finished with those in time to make the Sonar socks before he wants them.  

I’ll wait for you to stop laughing.  

All this and four shirts, a novel in November, Christmas (it’s out there), oh, and I forgot a bag I was going to make for a friend, and the regular maintenance of myself and my family.  No problem.  I’m making sure the freezer is full of ice, in the event (ahem, likelihood) of knitter’s injury.

Walk the Walk

I love my brother.  I want you to love him too. 

PJ, circa 1983

(Dude, I could have shown them the Butt-Crack picture).  

He’s come a long way since that little cowboy.  I’ve taught him everything I could, starting from very early on.  Here I am reading a little Hunter S. Thompson to him and the fam back in the day.

Eglentyne, PJ, Sister-Ours, and the Da, circa. 1980

Seriously, I’m proud of him.  He’s a creative thinker and he’s full of love and humor.  

Go here and read about this crazy thing he is doing.  Then, stop thinking it’s crazy, and do what you can to help him along in his quest.  We all have something that we love and are passionate about.   Explore his cause.  Send him a note.  Buy some of his stuff.  Make a donation.  Meet him in Chicago.  Whatever works for you.    

Love, Eglentyne (Pan Eglentina)

P.S. The chimps and the bonobos will thank you someday.  

P.P.S.  When you’re finished feeling the love, go here and  chuckle at the absurdity.  

P.P.P.S.R.C.Q.  I have totally stolen several rhetorical moves from my brother in this post.  I told you I loved him.  

More Funny

Hayes Carll.  Good singer/songwriter.  Don’t miss “Down the Road” and “I Got a Gig.”

Seriously, the first person I know who can memorize the lyrics to “Down the Road” gets chocolate chip cookies.*  

*Unless you live very far from me, like in another country or something,  and I’m not allowed to mail you chocolate chip cookies because they might be considered suspicious under some kind of terrorist, security, import, export plan.  In that case, I’ll just say “good fer you.”