September 22, 2004
Secrets Revealed!
To wrap up our fantasy trip to our fiber-y utopia in the sunny meadows of Okanogan, we will now reveal to you that The Mysterious K and I seriously—no, I mean, seriously—discussed snapping up those 40 acres, commune or no commune, and even had our financing all figured out, but our scheming was brought to a screeching halt by six little words: “Timber rights can be purchased separately.” In udder woids, if we don’t buy the timber rights, the previous owners can march onto the property and whack down trees whenever they feel like it. Um, I don’ think so, mon’. (Barb, where is that Monopoly box? Need money for those timber rights. And for the plasma TVs, satellite dishes and 20 remotes that TMK, Janine and Norma are now demanding for the commune. And the new Scrabblearium that the levitating Cuzz' demanded.)
Waving a fond and tearful adieu to our commune, we now return to regular programming:
Remember how I’ve been hinting that the clock and the Oak Leaf Scarf were for A Very Special Person? The VSP was, in fact, TMK’s mother. The Event for Which Secret Things Such As Clocks and Scarves Were Being Made was her surprise 60th birthday party (which was guaranteed to be a surprise because her birthday isn’t actually for another two months). The surprising, the partying and the giving of gifts took place last Saturday.
Imagine what this event was like for TMK and me: Our typical Saturdays consist of quietly puttering around her house, just her, me, and the dawg, playing Scrabble (no, not the dawg—but she says she could if she sat on our laps so she could see the board), drinking tea or coffee, watching anything and everything on TLC and the Food Network, playing video games, knitting, gardening, and woodworking. This last Saturday, however, thanks to the weather which did not cooperate (the day before, yes; the day after, yes; the day of, no), we had 26 people, including 7 children, aged 1 to 11, crammed into TMK’s small living room. Such pandemonium! In fact, yesterday afternoon TMK called me to tell me she had just discovered salsa smeared all over one of her walls. Kids. Gotta love ‘em.
But, really, the whole thing was a hoot, starting with the fact that the mother opened the front door, peered in, gasped, and slammed the door shut. We finally coaxed her in—and the free-for-all began. It started with great hootin’ and hollerin’ and huggin’, segued into piles of barbecued sausages, salad, baked beans, chocolate cake, and gifts, and ended hours later with the Mother and her two sisters, the Little Old Aunties, sitting in a row, giggling hysterically, and performing a “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” tableau for the cameras.
How do I describe TMK’s extended family? For people who have watched the Sandra Bullock movie “While You Were Sleeping,” I can shorthand it for you: They’re like that family. They travel around in packs, they suck you in whether you want to be sucked in or not, and they hug a lot.
To understand how I feel about all of this, you have to understand a little about my upbringing (I believe Big Sister and Cuzzin Tom can testify to this). In my family, we are experts at the ”East Coast hug,” specifically the subcategorical “Princeton hug,” since that is where my family lived. To do the Princeton hug, you stand a good foot to foot-and-a-half away from the person you are greeting, lean in towards each other, pat each other perfunctorily on the back (pat, pat, pat), making sure there is no physical contact, not even cheek-to-cheek, and back away quickly, avoiding eye contact because you’re embarrassed by such a profuse display of emotion. There aren’t even any air kisses, just the bend, the pat, the backing away. TMK’s family members, on the other hand, are experts at the Big Italian Hug which is so tight and goes on for so long you feel as if your eyes are going to pop out (or you’re going to fart, whichever comes first). And the Big Italian Hug can come out of nowhere. It's two hours into the party, you’ve survived the initial “hello” hug, you’ve put your eyeballs back in their sockets and have gained control of your digestive system, you’re talking unconcernedly to someone about this or that, and all of sudden, the swoop, the grab, and the big, long squeeze. TMK loves to watch her reserved, formal partner interact with her family; it amuses her greatly.
And, here, the reason why I knit a scarf for this woman:
After the party the Mother and all the Little Old Aunties and their various and sundry SO’s and relatives decided to go to evening mass (which, of course, involved a lot of Big Italian Hugs, never mind the fact that we were going to see them all again in an hour). At some point during the chaos of getting them in and out of the one bathroom, getting the right person together with the right coat, and getting them all out the door and into the right cars, the mother said to me, “You know, I pray for you every day.” Realizing that that statement could have been taken many ways, including "I pray to God every day for you to turn from your heathen and sinful ways," she said, “What I meant was I pray to God every day to thank Him for your presence in our lives.” Wow. And double-wow. Where are my knitting needles? I feel another scarf coming on.
(P.S. Need I say the clock was a big hit? Rumor has it TMK is hunting down some maple to make one for me!)
Knitting Knews
Although I put the Oak Leaf scarf in a gift box, decorated it with a riot of multicolored ribbons and presented it to the mother with great fanfare, it was all a façade, since five minutes later I ripped it back out of her hands and scuttled off with it like a rat into its hole. See, the night before the party, I had been fondling the scarf, eyeballing with satisfaction how all the stitches and lacework had fallen into place after blocking, and saying my last goodbyes to it, as it were. When I got ready to put it in the gift box, I folded it in the middle—and noticed to my horror that one side was a good two inches shorter than the other, despite all of the careful measuring and folding and counting and calculating I had done while knitting it. Now, there are “trotting horse”* errors and then there are errors like this which demand fixing, so the scarf is now in my possession, will be frogged a bit, and reknitted.
The proof:
In the meantime, I’m continuing with Faina’s Scarf and enjoying it immensely. I am now getting ready to do three 79-row repeats, which is a bit daunting, but overall it’s going very well, and I would recommend this pattern to anyone. (Lisa, did you get your copy of the pattern?)
*By way of explanation for non-knitters, there’s a saying that if an error on a knitted project can’t be detected by someone going by on a trotting horse, then it’s not worth fixing. Don’t ask me why a trotting horse and not a jogger, or someone in a Go Kart, or on a bicycle or in a low-flying airplane. I haven't the foggiest. Besides, the only person I know who can actually have someone trot by her on a horse is Karen, so how helpful is this rule anyway?
it sounds wonderful.. and i think it also sounds delightful. the only bit I find puzzling is the air hug.. which I cannot see you doing simply b'c of the way you write this blog. I mean you are very gregarious and open on this blog.. so i assumed (incorrectly) that you must be a hugger.. I am and while I have not changed my ways I do know that I have an ex who explained me off to someone "let her do it. she's a hugger. don't fight it and it goes by pretty quickly"
re: scarf. O NO! *sigh. I completely understand. yuck.. but I am sure she understood.. and you still have at least a month before it gets really cold (and before her b-day no less!!)
Posted by: anj on September 22, 2004 09:20 AMYES!! I sent you an email on Monday that the pattern was in my hot little hands....Grr. Hotmail has been pretty wild and loose with my emails this week, now I wonder just how many are floating out in cyberspace...grrrrrrrr.
I'm getting the wool today at lunch!! Except, of course, I forgot the pattern...how many yards do I need? Do you know this without looking at the pattern...which I realize is probably not with you at work....sigh. L
Posted by: Lisa in Oregon on September 22, 2004 09:45 AMUh, RYAN. Were we separated at birth? I, too, come from the air-hug type of family. Actually, we don't even go that far. That would be TOO intimate. Parents never hugged children, even. Babies, yes. Seemingly the minute you're potty-trained (which also happened early in my house.), no more kissing. I could never understand it when I went to other kids' houses and their parents KISSED them before bed, and they HAD to hug and/or kiss whenever they entered the room coming home from school or whatever. Now I've grown up to be the .....watch OUT -- MEGA-hugger and kisser. I can't stop myself. It's TOO funny. The compliment of a lifetime you received from TMK's mom. I hug you and kiss you from afar. (but please don't fart)
Posted by: Norma on September 22, 2004 09:46 AMWell. Congratulations, cuz. Your revelation of the intimate moment with TMK's mother choked me up and neutralized the section of my brain dedicated to smart-assery.
Anj--you've probably sorted this out, but blogs can be a kind of alter-ego, or...what? I can say that what you're getting is pure Ryan, the funny cuzzin who I love dearly, but her unabashed affection for her Dear Readers might express itself a tad bit differently in person, at least at first. As a fambly, we are kinda like that. I watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding like an anthropologist. Part of me was attracted, part of me recoiled at the utter lack of *privacy*. Sigh.
At any rate, Cuzzin Ryan and I haven't seen each other for a criminally long time, and I got a Big Italian Hug reserved for her when we do.
Posted by: Cuzzin Tom on September 22, 2004 10:06 AMi married into a family of 'hungarian huggers' - this is a group that can be identified by great lung-crushing hugs and by the fact that they regard any and every occasion as a time to be celebrated with conversation that is so loud it hurts the ears and mass amounts of food that is so rich that just viewing it clogs the arteries (they are going to damage you one way or the other it seems)- i am from a 'please keep your hands and your lips off of me' background so the offspring are interesting-
speaking of children, be glad that the walls were only decorated with salsa- i'm sure most mothers will agree that far worse things often find their way onto walls- we'll just skip the lurid details here-
party sounds like it was a roaring success and your gifts were appreciated too- such a sweet comment from tmk's mother- the little scarf problem was no doubt just a design element you had forgotten about- it is pretty-
i want to thank you for our little escape into fantasy- what fun- i did so enjoy the company of the knitters- i understand the bit about having to purchase rights separately- around here, you can buy the ground but often have no rights to the trees above or the oil that might be below-
stay happy-
Posted by: barb in texas on September 22, 2004 10:11 AMAnj, I’ve grown up to hug somewhere between the Big Italian Hug and the Princeton Hug. As an adult, I’ve realized the Princeton Hug gives me the creeps. What’s the frickin’ point of a hug that makes you feel as if you’re crawling all over with cooties? On the other hand, I’m not a “crusher” because…er…well…um… because my bodacious ta-tas get in the way.
The big benefit to having had both my upbringing and being exposed to The Big Italian Hug is now I am ambihuggerous. If I were suddenly transported back to Princeton, I could Princeton hug along with the best of them; if I were suddenly transported back four days to Saturday, I could execute a fine Big Italian Hug. It's not a bankable talent, but it has its uses.
(TMK, note that Anj has a good point: I haven’t not yet given your Mom her scarf, since her birthday isn’t until November. Make sense?)
Lisa, sent you a separate email with details about yarn yardage for Faina.
Norma, my sister just reminded me of the ultimate in Princeton hugs, where you lean in ever so slightly, say “kiss, kiss,” and that’s that. Oh, so warm, so enveloping, so uplifting!
Cuzzin, help! I need you to say something smart-assy and slightly distasteful to stem this wave of goosebumps—which is how my body reacts to demonstrations of warmth and kindness. Hugz to you, Cuzzin; hugz!
Barb, I laughed out loud at your description of the loud, Hungarian cross-talking. Four members of TMK’s family got here the night before the party and the six of us went out to dinner, during which large amounts of Italian/Hungarian-type crosstalking went on. Come to find out the only one who actually heard what anyone really said—which was important information about the scheduling of the party—was The Silent Listener, me, which meant that the next morning I was able to calmly and quietly tell TMK what had actually been decided. This was followed by great sputtering on TMK’s part, who said, “But Auntie said such and such and cousin said such-and-such and uncle said such and such.” And I said, “No, what they actually said was such and such.” And I was right. Woo-hoo! There's something to be said for a frigid upper-middle-class East Coast upbringing after all!
I can tell all the bloggers here that Ryan, herself, is a great hugger--not too tight, not too "airy." She has paid attention to huggings received over the years from TMK's wacky family (and I use the term "wacky" in the most warm and respectful of ways), combined it with her own reservations (familial "inhibitions"??) and come up with a winning combination. I know this because we hug all the time--she really is quite good at it.
As for the trotting horse test, I always heard it as a GALLOPING horse, which is actually better for me, since the standards are appreciably lower when one goes by on a galloping horse as opposed to a much, slower, get-a-really-good-look trotting horse...Mary
PS I would have redone the scarf too. It would be a shame not to, really, because it is so incredibly wonderful! Ryan you did a marvelous job on it.
Posted by: Mary on September 22, 2004 12:36 PMThank you for all the compliments, Mary. Just for that, next time you get an extra hug!
Posted by: Ryan on September 22, 2004 12:39 PMWell the party sounds fabulous! And Mom's comment would have brought me to tears. It's so awesome the moment when you realize just how much you mean to people you hardly ever see, even if they are family. Did that even make sense??
Anywho, over the last few months of reading this blog, it has come to my attention that our very dear Blog Mistress and a multitude of her dear readers are quite, well, "endowed". This of course brought thoughts to mind of all of us finally getting together in a Mossy Cottage knit together and no one being able to hug due to our arms not reaching each other past out "endowments" This, of course, brought on gales of laughter from me. I'm better now.
The scarf really did turn out beautiful, Miss Ryan. kudo's to you!!!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be over here sitting on my suitcases waiting for that land to be bought...
Hope everyone has a great day!!!!
Posted by: Stalker Angie on September 22, 2004 03:06 PMMy family memories consist of gatherings of our Swedish clan sitting primly in our chairs, smiling slightly at each other, completely unable to think of anything to say... the rollicking holidays. Until the drinking started.
Families! I so understood Cuzzin Tom watching Big Fat Greek Wedding as an anthropological documentary. I've had to do so much learning about what family means, or can mean!
You know, the oddest thing is how really QUIET TMK is. I never woulda guessed. Next time I see her I'll just throw some spaghetti or something.
Posted by: Janine on September 22, 2004 04:14 PMAh, well, Janine; you saw TMK near...shudder... strangers! That is not her best milieu. In fact, she will even tell you that one time, many years ago, she and I sat down and had a lesson on how to make small talk. She took it very much to heart and is much better at conversatin' now than she used to be, but she still only lets her hair down around fambly. Or me. God only knows how she behaves when it's just her and the dog.
StalkerAngie, your comment reminded me of how one time an ex- and I, who were living in the same house on our college campus, both came around a corner in opposite directions. Since we were both "endowed" and "fluffy" AND were both wearing overstuffed goosedown coats, despite the fact that we were both going at a fast clip, we collided with only the softest, most cushioned of "whumps." We staggered backwards, completely uninjured, of course, and laughed ourselves stupid.
Posted by: Ryan on September 22, 2004 04:34 PMThere are the cat people, and the dog people, and they always marry each other. :0)
*I'm* ready to knit a scarf for TMK's mama, myself, without ever having met her, just based on her well-spoken sentiments.
Posted by: Karen on September 23, 2004 08:02 AMOkay...I have my Faina pattern...I have my Faina yarn (mmmmm....yarnnnnn), and I have my Faina needles....woo hoo!
I plan on knitting Faina exclusively in the tiny fragment of time I have each day between getting home and the children returning from school. No kids, No dog (she's still at gramma's then), No sweetie to distract me from all Faina's rows...and rows....and oh yeah...rows. ;) Soon to be complaining about those rows, I'm sure...but really looking forward to it!
l
Lisa, how can you complain about a pattern that starts with only 10 measly stitches? (Evil laugh...)
Posted by: Ryan on September 23, 2004 01:37 PMCripes, now I have Fainis envy. Stop it, you two.
Posted by: Norma on September 23, 2004 06:54 PMWell, in this day of medical miracles, Norma, I hear you can by a Fainis of your own.
Posted by: Ryan on September 24, 2004 08:12 AMWow, what fun for you and TMK's family! TMK's Mom is wonderful. You are so good at keeping secrets, too. By the way,will your clock have a metronome mechanism and a chime?
PS I'm for more hugs.
Actually, no, Debra. All the clock does is tell time--and that's what's nice about it. It doesn't even go "tick, tock;" the pendulum just swings, the hands just go around, and it just tells time--a very restful things in these days of beeps and whirrs and chimes and alarms.
Posted by: Ryan on September 24, 2004 08:51 AMSo you're saying that TMK didn't program the clock to let loose for seven minutes every morning at 7 a.m.? She must love her mother very much.
Posted by: Cuzzin Tom on September 24, 2004 08:55 AMCuzzin Tom- you are absolutely, delightfully, wicked. I love it. Wish you were my cuzzin.. all I've got are a bunch of lumps.
speaking of lumpy relatives, I had the *ahem* pleasure of hanging out with my 12 yr old cuzzin who may or may not turn out to be an okay kid. geez, the meldrama he could put on about being thirsty.. but overall when I reminded him that he should act like a 6th grader and not a 3rd grader he was pretty good travelling companion for my mother in DC.
Posted by: anj on September 24, 2004 10:34 AM