There was a Game?

I understand there was a football game last Sunday. In MY house I think of it as "that program I tape for the commercials, so I can whip past the big sweaty guys running around." Not a big sports fan at the best of times, I became entirely disillusioned when Mr Dearling told me that a lot of the things you see on the field (yellow lines, shapes saying what "down" it is, &c) are actually computer-generated and are not really there at all. Which begs the question: how about the Big Sweaty Guys? How do we know THEY are really there? Or the football, is there really a football? Well, anyway, I haven't run through to watch the commercials yet, but I must admit, in the spirit of the thing we made up a big bowl of guacamole (well -- the game AND the fact that two of our three avocados were ripe to the point of "use 'em or lose 'em"); we also heated up some of our favorite Santa Fe black bean dip, and while we ate all that with chips we DID watch the actual game. (So far the Clydesdale fetching the stick is my favorite commercial.)

Having said that, I can also report that I have three (count 'em, 3 ) projects on the needles: another preemie cap (my fourth, and I mean to crank out a few more); a sort of cowl thingie out of Homespun, because I can: (Rnds 1-4 Purl. Rnds 5-8 Knit. Rep Rnds 1-8 until it's 23" or as big as you want. (I'm using size 10.5 circs); and yet another Calorimetry . OK, I'm addicted to that last one, I admit it. I really LIKE the things, and getting compliments on it pretty often hasn't hurt either. And it's quick and fun! (Have I mentioned being easily entertained?)

There's an event here that we try to go to every year, called "Souper Bowl". It's a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity, held before that football game, and here's how it works. You go to our neighborhood high school on The Day, between 3-8. When you go in, there are tables FILLED with ceramic and porcelain bowls made by art students in all the high schools in town. LOTS of bowls. (I forgot to take a picture of the tables, so intent was I!) You find your bowl. Read "the absolutely perfect can't-live-without-it bowl".

Now - as I move down the table I must look like I'm playing the shell game. I pick one up, carry it along - and then put it down and take another. Then I walk along - and rush back and trade for the first one. Then I continue....and see THE perfect bowl, so I take that and put down the other. Get the picture? Keep in mind, I'm walking between TWO bowl-laden tables. Finally you get to the end, where you pay your money ($15/bowl). Then you go to another table on which there are huge pots of soup, (presided over by Wonderful Volunteers) and stacks of cardboard take-out bowls (so you don't have to take home a dirty bowl which even hasn't been washed and might have been handled by more than one eccentric 4'11" bubbeh and put back). You select a soup and put the take-out bowl of soup into Your Perfect Bowl; you also collect plastic silverware, a styro bowl of salad (upon which you've slobbed a HUGE dollop of that yummy orange "french" dressing, if you're me) and then you go find a spot at the very crowded tables with a few hundred of your best friends:

As it turns out, the ladies across from me ARE friends, volunteers at the Museum! Also - across from me at the end of the table is my Lovely Daughter, whom we always invite. She was an art student at that same school and made some very fine pieces of her own. The empty space across from her was occupied by Mr Dearling, who (obviously) took the picture. And in the background a few more fellow Madisonions enjoying their Perfect Bowls too. (Did I mention lots of art students make 'em?)

DIGRESSION:

This is a bowl that my Lovely Daughter made for me in high school art class. It is my "Egyptian Four-Footed Bowl", and it has real gold toenails and a gold disc in the center of the interior. It's not an eating-out-of bowl, but is always been on display somewhere in the house. Most recently it lives on my bear-book bookcase, with my silver chatelaine & accoutrements in it. Important work! (Don't you love the toenails?) There's something about four little brown feet with burnished gold toenails, I don't know. I wonder what the archaeologists will say when they find it in 500 years?

ANYway! After a brief panic when I had to go back, even after paying, and check just once more , it turned out I did indeed have My Bowl, so we went to get our grub. The Daughter and I had a delicious chicken-wild-rice soup and Mr Dearling had a Baked Potato soup; ours were good, he confided to me that his was luke-warm. "Tasty, though," he declared. So here are our bowls and our Bowls:

This is Mr Dearling's bowl. Smallish size, earthy colors, well-glazed inside and out.

This is Lovely Daughter's Lovely Bowl; it has a deep, rich blue inside, and the natural clay color outside. She walked in, she picked it up - it was a match made in Heaven. Right color, right size - and she, with her practiced potter's eye, pointed out that the proportions were symmetrical. A very nice bowl.

And this is MY Yes-It-IS-Perfect bowl. It's pretty much the size of last year's bowl - and yes, that little bump IS intentional; there were a few others by the same (unknown) artist sporting them as well -- it has a matching bump INside, like it has a little marble in there or some such.

Last year's bowl, with its deep blue all-over glaze, is what I have my oatmeal in every morning, so this year I wanted a light-colored one. NOTE: as I write this, I've had oatmeal (twice) and mashed potatoes (once) in this bowl. It works. It's mine.

And now, my friends, in exchange for my being lazy -- uhmn -- procrastinating ... that is, too busy to have caught even a minute to blog for the last few days (yeah, that's it) I have a reward for you!

In a word: CORNER GAS . The link will take you to the Wicki and I encourage you to read the descriptions of the denizens ....that is, residents, of Dog River, Saskatchewan. This is a show on the teevee, a Canadian comedy -- "check your local listings". Now, HERE it's on at 12:30 AM on WGN, a small, unassuming little channel with oddments on late at night. But I encourage you to do whatever it takes -- taping it, eating espresso beans covered in chocolate and staying up, going to bed at 3:30 in the afternoon so you can get up for it -- so you can see it.

This was another gem recommended by my local teevee-watching, DVR-loving, connoisseur of programming known to you all as my Lovely Daughter. And to my EXTREME delight, her extraordinarily-generous (and interesting) colleague and former roommate Roger loaned me THE FIRST THREE SEASONS ON DVD!!

I won't give anything away here, but suffice it to say: a) the Canadians have a droll humor unequalled even by British comedy; b) I always make sure to finish any beverages before watching; c) all of the episodes are entertaining; d) most of the episodes have several (count 'em, several) moments that are...and this is neither exaggeration nor hyperbole...the drop-dead funniest things I have EVER, in my all-but-66 years of life, witnessed anywhere, anyhow, anywho.

Dare I say (even though I know Mr Dearling looks in from time to time) I'm going on a patient, bargain-seeking hunt, and I WILL, eventually, own EVERY SINGLE season of this show. He isn't much for watching things more than once (well, OK, "Last of the Mohicans" and "Black Robe" are exceptions) but I have already watched the first season twice and am showing it to Donna-my-weekly-stitch-n-bitch partner, so will see each episode at least twice, and next time I have a long knitting project I'll watch them again. In fact, when we've finished seeing the whole set I may give myself a one-day Corner Gas Marathon and get through as many as possible all at once.

Check it out -- you'll thank me later.

Editor's note: $32,000 was collected at this year's Souper Bowl; that's a record!