An Old Fashioned Knitting Bee

We are an old fashioned “knitting bee.”  We meet on Thursday nights in the lobby of a church in Charlevoix. We range in age from 11ish to 60-something.  We knit (or crochet) tell stories, laugh, relax, and unwind.  A friend of mine invited me to this knitting group a year or so ago. The ladies who attend are a mismatched set of individuals with the same common goal; to make stuff. Some of us aren’t very good at it, some are absolute beginners, and some are advanced, with yarn collections that could put you in awe. Only a few attend every week without fail, but we keep in contact about who is going to try and make it with our weekly Facebook messenger thread that not only includes who is coming, but who needs thoughts, prayers, or hugs.  The dictionary definition for a bee is:

            (noun) a social gathering  for a specific purpose, as to carry out a communal task or hold competitions: a quilting bee

I am guessing that the “hold competitions” part refers to things like spelling bees. We don’t do any competing. We do begin each week with our little “show and tell” of projects we have completed. Stacey usually has the most to show. And then we show what we are working on this week. If Carrol comes, she is our resident expert in both knitting and crochet and helps those who need it. She usually brings skeins of cool yarn she has recently added to her collection. Greer is the youngest of our group and one of the regulars, who doesn’t seem to even notice that she’s the only youngster among moms and grandmas (although sometimes she does bring a friend). Not to mention that her knitting skills could put any one of us to shame.  There are many Thursday nights that I don’t make it. Most of the time I am just too doggone tired from the stress and business of my everyday life, which is exactly the reason I should go. When I do make it, I find a spot at the round table where I can get ahead on a project without distraction from the pile of dishes that need to be washed or papers that need to be corrected. I can chat with or listen to a group of ladies with whom I have at least one thing in common. I may not see them at any other time during the week, but when we get together in that lobby, around that table, with our yarn and our stories, we are friends.

Everything I Really Need to Know I Learned in Second Grade

Many years ago there was a popular poster and accompanying books and calendars titled, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, by Robert Fulgham. It was clever in that it reminded us to share and be nice to one another. I thought it was cute. However, since I am a second grade teacher, I have a version of my own. I call it "All I Need to Know I Learned in Second Grade" and it goes like this:

Have best friends. Lots of them.
Laugh loudly
Find the humor in the little things like the word, "toilet"
Run everywhere
If someone says something mean to you say "I don't want to be your friend anymore."
Be their friend again the next day anyway.
Love learning and love telling others about the stuff you learned.
If someone doesn't know the answer, whisper it to them.
Make everyone's Birthday a important as Christmas.
Believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy.
And when you have some free time, go outside and play, even if it's raining.
Hold hands.
When someone gets hurt show genuine concern and compassion.

I have actually had this idea for a few years. When the testing craze took off and education went from a place of educational freedom and creativity to a microscope of state standards and MEAP test scores, crafts and creative writing were replaced with test prep and running records. My friend was walking down the hall after a morning of trimester math testing in her second grade classroom. She was behind two little girls and overheard them say "When we go out to recess. Let's play princesses." And they held hands as they walked to the lunchroom. My friend later said to me, "These kids don't care about test scores. They just want to play princesses." I wonder when we lose the pure joy in life that we feel when we are young children. Little things make them happy and pride comes from a purple star on a spelling test. They don't care if there's still 2 feet of snow in mid-March. That just means more time to make the world's best snow fort. They don't care if it rains while camping. Heck, I don't think they even notice until the grown-ups say that the fun is over. Yes, I learned a lot of important things in Kindergarten, but I might be a bit biased when I say the real learning happens in second grade.

There if I Need Them

One of the few pictures I have of just my mother-in-law and I.

Our cat Stanley isn’t really your ordinary cat. He does all of the things ordinary cats do, but to our neighbor’s dog, Ivy, he’s more than that. Ivy is completely blind. She gets around pretty well according to our neighbor, Dave, but she has lost both eyes and completely depends on Dave for her care. Every morning Dave takes Ivy for walks around the neighborhood. About mid-summer my husband noticed that Stanley had begun to accompany Dave and Ivy on their walks. He said that as they walked, Stanley would walk alongside them. If they stopped, Stanley flopped down on the ground in front of Ivy and waited. Dave and his wife have come to refer to Stanley as “Ivy’s seeing-eye cat,” for good reason. If Ivy starts to venture off to one side or the other, Stanley will nudge her back. Many days when I’m pulling out of the driveway I’ll see Stanley sitting on the front porch of their house next to Ivy as she waits for Dave to come out. Sometimes Stanley will sit between our houses looking over as if to say “I’m right here if you need me Ivy.” As I sat down to write this month’s column my head has been clouded with the recent loss of my mother-in-law to a relatively short battle with cancer. At times I have felt like I’ve been stumbling around trying to make my way. I believe that God has been there, providing for me and meeting my needs, but in addition to that my friends were there to support me with kindness and love. They walked along side me, stopped, and waited. They stayed nearby saying “We’re here if you need us,” and they sat with me as I waited for the inevitable. They said things that made me feel better and had a shoulder ready when I needed to cry. They knew what I needed even when I didn’t, doing things like providing meals or watching our dog. And when the time came for us to say goodbye, they were with me then too both in person and with words of encouragement. Stanley doesn’t know it but he is an important part of Ivy’s life now. I think that Ivy loves and appreciates Stanley as much as I love and appreciate those closest to me. Ivy and I both know that when things are at their darkest, there will always be someone there to help us along.  Thank you Stanley, for watching out for Ivy. And thank you my friends, for watching out for me.

Published October, 2010