Disappointments and Tribbles

Poor Dad. A few years ago he got into watercolor painting and started taking classes where he lives in Minnesota. There are few paintings in frames at his apartment, and this year he decided to paint his Christmas cards by hand instead of sending out commercial greeting cards. When he told me, I kidded him about the old episode of Fibber McGee&Molly, in which Fibber also decided to paint cards and ended up with disaster at every turn. Anyway, dad sent out his cards after scanning them--a smart move in my opinion--and waited with baited breath. And no one bothered to even acknowledge they'd gotten a card that was any more exciting than the usual commercial crap. Poor Dad. When I talked to him this afternoon, I thought to myself, "Now you know how it feels to put a lot of effort into something you make with your own hands and do the absolute best you can, and then the recipient doesn't appreciate the result."
I'm not sure if that's a reflection of living in a culture where everything is disposable and it's all about being acquisitive instead of appreciative. Everything is done as quickly as possible, then used quickly, and thrown out to be replaced with something newer, better, faster than the old model. It's disheartening; I know exactly how Dad feels. But, sometimes the best things are the ones without the expensive designer label slapped all over them.

This wasn't as fibery a holiday as it was last year, but I'm fine with that. How many of us are heretical enough to admit that we're actually running out of space? All the soup tureens are full, all the boots and blouse sleeves are stuffed, all the sofa cushions have miraculously turned into cleverly disguised bags of yarn, and you're getting the feeling that you're somehow caught in a taping of "The Trouble With Tribbles"? Something like that, right? Naaaaaah. There are lists and books and magazines and catalogs dedicated to the notion that there is never, EVER enough yarn; the keeper of MochiMochiLand certainly proves it with her photo of the world's biggest yarn stash.
So, while I got neither yarn nor roving to spin more yarn among my holiday gifty things this year, I can definitely say I'm pretty happy with what I've got and that I've been able to pass on at least a little of what I've learned about stash management and stash manipulation (i.e. knitting) to two whole people this year. Not only did I succeed in corrupting one of my childhood friends, but I've also succeeded in corrupting my poor, unsuspecting mother. So many victims, so little time. :P That in itself is a gift that does in deed keep on giving. At the same time, my knitting library grew a little bit because mom gave me a couple more books; one was the Best of Interweave Knits, which does include a couple of nifty sock patterns. She's also gotten me a subscription to that marvelous publication as an early birthday gift. I's a happy kitty, I is.
And, at the same time, I'm knitting myself a pair of extremely fuzzy, warm socks out of the Lopi Lite I snagged from eBay earlier in the year. I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday and that your stashes grew by leaps and bounds, and that your houses are full of warm, happy, woolly tribbles.