Superbowl Sunday was pretty awesome. Not the game (though that was okay), but the hanging out with family.
On the way to the party, Beloved and I stopped to see my Grandma Shirley (the one with the cancer) in the nursing home. She’s doing really well and her spirits are high, and I brought her roughly ten pounds of books (her new room doesn’t have a TV, because only the Medicare-paying patients get TVs. If you’re private-pay, you get a smaller room with much much fewer amenities, and sometimes the staff forgets to CLOSE THE WINDOW in January so you get kind of cold.). Despite the contents of that rant, Grandma is in good spirits and keeping herself busy. She’s working her famous ripple-pattern crocheted afghan (I think she’s made one for every member of the family, plus all the residents of our town), this time for herself. Because of the cold.
After our stop in Rockford we headed out to the gathering at my Uncle David’s house. Good times, awesome company (my Gram & my Aunt & my Dad were being really goofy and it was so fun I wish I had recorded it). I brought my knitting but didn’t get to any of it, which in retrospect was a good thing, as I had only slept for four hours the night before and was a little nutty.
I was going to teach Maribeth (youngest sister) and Lloyd (her BF) how to knit (he wanted to learn how to knit. On Superbowl Sunday. In front of my Dad and Uncle. Lloyd is a strong man, and I take my hat off to him.), but it didn’t work out due to my sleepiness and the watching of the commercials.
(In case you were wondering, Yes, I did finish the Lloyd Scarf. He loves it. I had a picture of him with it somewhere, but it seems to have vanished. But I finished it, I swear!)
Traditionally we celebrate my and Laura’s birthdays on Superbowl Sunday (in 1986 the Superbowl fell on my birthday, and the Bears were playing, and I thought all the excitement was for me). This year we didn’t have a cake (Mom made me a birthday pie, and Laura a birthday fruit salad!) and we didn’t really want the singing and the candles, but we got it anyway:
Why yes, yes those are candles in the fruit salad.
At the end of the night I wanted to show my aunts the needle case Laura had made me (they don’t knit, but their niece made something awesome. You know.) and they oohed and ahhed over it and my Aunt S. said, “I didn’t know you were knitting now” and I said yes, I only picked it up in October, and she ran downstairs and brought back her old knitting needles and said, “I don’t knit anymore, would you like to have these?”
And there were two pairs of size 3 needles, one pair of size 8, one pair size 11, two stitch holders, and the most gigantic freaking needles I have ever seen in all my days. So of course I said “Hell yes, Aunt S.! Thank you!”
And some closeups of the huge-ass needles:
That’s a size 8 resting on top of the gargantuan needles, for reference-like. There is no size marked on these babies, and my Susan Bates needle sizer only goes up to 16. I’m guessing they’re 35s or 50s. If anyone knows the size of the “Reynolds Jumbo Jets,” let me know, kay? Thanks.
And now the internet knows that I have not ironed my tablecloth, and my mother is weeping silently into her linen closet.