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!

Ski Races and S(o)uper Bowls

Finished! I finally finished the entry on Books (would that count as "B" if I were doing the ABC deal?) Also, I am pleased to report that I finished another toque (boxed and ready to go); I'm about 1/3 done with the next - and I've received payment for the earlier one! Clippin' along, I am. Just a toque-knittin' fool. I had about decided that I was going to finish those in the book and not accept any more commissions - but you know what? (Pay attention here, I may need you to refer me back here if I start whining in the future.) I find that I do get a sort of rhythm going; once I'm increased to the full number I really can knit without looking, as in while watching movies or teevee, attending meetings, reading (for which I have one of those neat book-holder-upper gizmos, about $5 at Barnes & Noble).

This is my super-cool book-holder-upper enjoying lunch with me when Mr Dearling and I ate at Chili's the other day; it works equally well on the kitchen table at home while I'm reading and knitting. Clever device, this.


Having said that, when we go to the annual Trade Faire in Oshkosh at the end of the month, as we do, annually, I may encounter someone who will be requesting a toque. And I'll be taking my little notebook along.....but, if I DO get a request, I will be very forthright in saying that there are a couple of things on the needles that I'll need to complete before beginning anything else.

Last Wednesday we used our Christmas present from Mr Dearling: we went to the Natalie McMasters concert. She's the fabulous Cape Breton fiddler who we try to see whenever she comes to town. I have seen her with my very eyeballs in my very own eyeball holes - play reels and jigs on the fiddle while stepdancing ! Had I NOT seen this I would never have believed it humanly possible to do that. (I mean, I'm feel incredibly posh being able to do simple knitting while reading!)

Natalie played at our very nice Overture Center, a remarkable theatre venue, and for the winter season they have snowflake patterns on the floor in lights.
This is a very dramatic effect, and we couldn't quite figure out how they're projected onto the floor, but it's a very attractive and festive effect.
The Overture Center is somewhat controversial; it's rather stark from the outside, but the seats in the main theatre are arranged in such wise that there are no obstructed views. (Our seat neighbors pointed out, however, that the rows on our level were VERY long - and we were in the middle of the row. The observation was made that, in the event of a fire (for example) we'd be screwed, as there was no middle aisle. Hmmmmmmmm......gives one pause to think. Still and all, a very nice evening.

Friday night was the Late Night Knit at the Sow's Ear, and I had the pleasure of visiting with my Lovely Daughter, Chocolate Sheep (Beth), and Molly Bee's Attic (Melinda) among the merry throng of local knitters (might I add, a brilliantly-congenial group). The Lovely Daughter is knitting up a Feather-and-Fan in dreamy mohair in black (looks like a fuzzy mantilla) and I did make some progress on the Next Toque. Beth showed off her Packer hat on the needles (my STARS that girl is clever, knitting in words like that,seriously!) and the book she is working on, which is one Admirable Piece of Work. As we were arranged, Molly Bee and I were on opposite sides of a large column, so even though we could visit, it was largely "around the corner". Beth and I came nigh to closing the place up again, we always seem to do that.

Saturday was the first day of our Winter Festival, and Mr Dearling and I were slated to appear in our Fur Post at the Museum "in garb" - the publicity said "costumed interpreters", that would be us. As it turned out, the weather was PERFECT - not too cold, and with a nice soft steady snowfall.

Saturday we were "on" from about 9:00 until noon, but we stayed a bit later, as there were still some folks coming through. In honor of the Festival the Museum served hot chocolate on the main floor, and we had a little craft project for kids around the corner from our Fur Post; there was a special exhibit of some exceptional wooden fish decoys made by native artists, and we had some cute little wooden jointed fishies that kids could paint and decorate and take along with them.

To my great delight on Saturday, along came Molly Bee and her husband to visit! They hail originally from the lands of the great Abenaki and Passamaquoddy, and I was excited to show them a bit about the Ojibway and Potowatami and Ho-Chunk from hereabouts. I deserted Mr Dearling (aka Paul L'Aventure dit le Promeneur) to explain and display the goods at the Post, to show off some artifacts - we have some perfectly beautiful twined bags made from yarn unwoven from trade blankets alongside some made from the natural fibers, and I find it exciting to see how the patterns were developed so artistically by the native women when the colored wools became available to them. (The same is true from the translation from the gentle geometric designs worked in porcupine quills to the brilliant floral beadwork, for which the Ojibway are internationally known.) All in all, we had quite a few visitors and were very satisfied with the day. Around 2:00, we changed and went outdoors to see some of the festivities of the Winter Festival.

They block off the Capitol Square and set up a track for ski races. Interestingly, there were racers from Australia, Czechoslovakia, Denmark - as well as some from Michigan and Massachusetts (among others). There were both Men's and Women's heats.


Believe me when I say, these lanky, lean guys were doing some MOVING! My camera isn't very fast, and I took a real lot of pictures to catch even these examples. It had stopped snowing but was still really nice out. We didn't get around to check out the snowboarding or ice sculptures, but from our viewpoint the Winter Festival looks like it might start attracting big names!

We ended the day by enjoying a slice of pizza on State Street (we like Casa de Roma; Molly Bee & Scott went to Ian's...there are thousands , well... hundreds -- oh, you know, LOTS of pizza places in Madison.) By then it was around 5:00, and we set out for: THE SOUPER BOWL!!

NOTE: that goofy person in the long coat, waving with the fingerless mitts (made from Reggia Sock Yarn) in the middle of the line? Me.

This is the long line in the hall at West High School, where the annual Souper Bowl takes place. It's always held the day before that other Super Bowl thing - you know, the fabulous commercials interrupted by a bunch o' guys running around in funny clothes chasing a legless, headless pig(skin). OUR Souper Bowl is a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity,and it works like this: you file in along three very long tables, on which there are bowls. HUNDREDS of bowls, made by ceramacists, potters, artists and (primarily) high school students.

You select a bowl. Then you move down the table a little more, and find a better bowl, so you pick it up and put down the first one. Then you continue along - and find the Best Bowl you've Ever Seen....so you pick it up and put down the other one.

The line is moving slowly, 'cause everyone is doing that. Then - you find a BETTER Best-er Bowl (shut up, it is too a word). Then I find myself with a perfect bowl in each hand, and the whole thing grinds to a stop. Blue one? Green one? Matte glaze? Glossy glaze? By this time, you're near the end and you're holding up the works.

So... you Make the Final Decision, and proceed to the table where you pay the modest amount of $15 - then on to the next table where you get your choice (Oh NO, another #)$@W CHOICE?) of soups, provided by the best restaurants in town. TOUGH CALL! The soup is put, not into your new Bestest-Ever-in-the-World bowl, but a cardboard take-out bowl (so you don't have to take home dirty dishes; you then proceed to the table where you get another cardboard bowl and help yourself to a fresh, cold, crisp salad and some dressing, and move to find spots at the very crowdy lunch tables, where you immediately begin chatting with the gazillion of your best fellow-Madisonian friends. Bread (in the form of bagels) and desserts (in the form of delicious bars and cookies made by someone's grandma the night before) are on the table, and tea, coffee and lemonade are available nearby.

This is Mr Dearling's wonderful bowl, and as you can see, we like to put our paper bowls in our real bowls - that way the bowls can practice, but they still don't get dirty. Mr Dearling is big on decent-sized bowls worthy of a healthy helping of his Most Remarkable Spaghett' (for which he is justifiably famous).

For MY part - I wanted a smaller bowl, good for hot cereal (you know the kind - whole grain with a quarter-pound little pat of butter and a cup small splash of real maple syrup. Because of the paper bowl you can't see it, but this has a deep cobalt-y blue interior, and it's just exactly the right size. Even after all my indecision at the end of the table, I am happy to report, this is MY BOWL!

So we ended the day with a mitzvah - contributing to Habitat for Humanity; I've added to my cherished collection of bowls, and we had a nice social experience with a few (hundred) of our neighbors. THIS is what I look forward on Super Bowl Weekend.

Oh - and in conclusion (what? I'm NOT being paid "by the word"? well, that sucks!) *ahem* I had a roasted red pepper soup and Mr Dearling had a rich, sweet chili. The experience was enhanced by the performance of a very enthusiastic band of high school students with an adorable girl trombone player who, bless her heart, wore a DRESS. The gathering was too raucous for me to catch the name; suffice it to say, they really, truly, ROCKED.

Go....team...(sigh)

OK - condolences are in order for MY end of the sofa; congratulations are due to the other end of the sofa. As mentoned, I'm not much of a sports fan of any kind. But we Wisconsinites are Packer Backers. (I do have a thing for that cute, grizzled, soft-spoken hero, Brett Favre - but you know, not in a stalk-y kind o' way, and I don't even have pictures of him or anything; however, I do have a cute magazine ad for Sensodyne with him holding a little ice cream cone.) Also, due to antiquated loyalty to the town of his birth (the Bronx), Mr Dearling is a "life-long New York Giants fan". (He's actually not any bigger of a sports fan than I am, and I bet he's never thought of Brett Favre "cute".)

Anyway, as I'm sure will be splashed all over the front page of newspapers as far away as Prague and Mumbai, the Packers did not win. (They didn't lose, the Packers don't do that; just didn't win.) Which means that Mr Dearling's New York Giants didn't not win.

I watched the whole game, minus muckin' great sections in the middle when the wild action caused me to fall asleep ... err... nod off pass out from the excitement. And even I, non-sports-fan that I am, can appreciate that it was a "good game" and it was won in the last few overtime seconds. The score was 20-20 for a long time.

That's OK, next year'll be a new season. (Oh, and Brett? If you're reading this? You will of course play at least one more season, right? So you can lead the Packers to the Super Bowl next year? Yeah, I thought so. Kthxbye.)