Tag Archives: crocheting

By any other name

I almost choked on my sweet tea the other day when I saw an email in my inbox.  In the message were the instructions on how to be hip and cool with my crocheting.  Didn’t I want to be hip and cool?  Of course!  I couldn’t keep my eyeballs from looking into this!  I discovered all the cool kids were making chevron afghans.  (Yes, the chevron – the current fave in geometric design.)  When I looked at the attached picture, it showed a plain old ripple afghan like my grandmothers have made for years.  Apparently, I didn’t know my grannies were pioneers of hip fashion long before their time.  When I showed the e-mail l to my sweetie, completely nonplussed he announced, “That looks like Nanny’s afghan to me.”  My thoughts exactly!

Ripple or chevron?  I guess it's all in how you look at it.

Ripple or chevron? I guess it’s all in how you look at it.

The more I thought about it, the more bothered I became by that email.  How many times does that type of marketing work?  More often than I would like to admit I am guessing.

My thoughts wondered back to teaching junior high science.  Each year at some point, I welcomed my students to the world of adulthood by letting them know a little secret: advertising is not for educated!  I would share with them that sometimes even brand names were meant to evoke a certain image: Downy and Nike were two that always came to mind.  I told them that they were too smart to be duped by ads.  Always one for the flair of the dramatic, I would quietly tip-toe around the room acting as if other grown-ups would pull out pitchforks and burning stakes if they knew I was letting children in on this little secret.  Then I would share about the moment that I caught on to the truth.  It was “The Great Cholesterol Scare of ‘85”.  I didn’t have a sage guide.  I was on my own perusing the snacks at Food World in high school. I needed to pick up peanut butter. But which one to choose? Why not the one with large label – emblazoned with NO CHOLESTEROL.  Suddenly angels appeared in Aisle 6 with rays of heavenly light shining forth.  This moment was somewhat akin to the beauty school drop-out scene in Grease. At this point in my story, most of my 7th graders were hanging on to every word.  Gently, because this was new knowledge in the information age, I explained my epiphany.  The uneducated consumer would think that this singular brand among all others on the shelf was there to protect my health, my arteries, (and not mention Truth, Justice, and the American Way).  I should buy THIS peanut butter because they cared enough to remove the horrible, evil, bad-guy Cholesterol from its product.  The reality: there was never any cholesterol in it.  Advertising is not for the educated.

Anyone who has been a teacher for more than twelve years knows that in the education world there are fads -lots of them.  I remember a former administrator was practically giddy with excitement at the speaker we were going to for a back-to-school workshop. His words were, “This is going to revolutionize what we do here”.  Because I believe that there are many ways to reach a child, I sincerely doubted this revolution was going to last long.  Once there, I knew for a fact that my hunch was right.  This workshop was twenty years ago, and the buzz-word for teaching was “cooperative grouping”.  The idea being that if we did everything in the classroom in groups, children would succeed, our lessons would reach every child, and everyone would learn at equal gains and paces.  That isn’t exactly what happened.  It is a great tool, but no one can build a house with just a hammer.  Why would we think that just one method would build a child?

So what do ripple afghans, peanut butter, and cooperative grouping have to do with anything?  Together, not much, unless you are lucky enough to teach in classroom that allows naps and snacks while simultaneously having your students arranged in groups!  (Some days, that would be my dream classroom!)

In all honesty, this concept of being easily fooled is one of the things that strikes fear in my heart.  How many messages do our kids receive in a day?   I want to raise kiddos who love God and who are great thinkers with big hearts.  That’s a tall order!  Are we (meaning: parents, schools,  communities) giving our children as much of an opportunity to learn and to think as we are preparing them for standardized tests?   Have we been hindered by the vast availability of knowledge at our fingertips without pushing our brains to go as far as they can?  Have we settled for the quick fix rather than creatively engineering the box (not just thinking outside of one)?  Have we equipped them with the tools to see through the garbage to get to what message is really being sent to them?  Is there an app for that?

Whenever I ruminate too long on this subject, I think about all the ways I have possibly failed as a mom and trust me, the list is LONG.  Then God gives me a glimpse that perhaps we haven’t done such a bad job after all.  I had an opportunity to watch my children testing a product for a company years ago.  I could see what they were doing while simultaneously having access to the questions they were being asked.  I watched as one of my sons was asked to describe how the product looked.  Every other child in the room looked at the product and wrote down their description.  Then I saw movement unlike the others over by my boy’s spot.  Behold!  He picked up the item and inspected the underside.

That was PROUD moment for this momma!  All those things I worried about maybe were for naught because not only did he think outside of the box – he reinvented it.   If I wouldn’t have looked like a nut, I wanted to jump up and down, cheering him on!

All over the country today many are sending their kids back to school.  In a really grown-up, fast-paced world, there are a lot of distractions.  Some are good, but plenty have no reason other than to dupe our kids. With a lot of prayer and nurturing, hopefully,  all kids will learn to think on their own two feet and not be fooled by the flash and dazzle (like the chevron afghans) of the world.  Because the way I see it, a horse by any other name is a . . . well, you know what I mean.

Yeah, whatever!

Kandy snowYesterday, I wrote about the blessing of friendship.  Over the weekend, my pastor spoke about having friends who love us enough to offer reproof.  You know the type of friends who see we are doing something wrong and who are bold enough to say it.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend. Proverbs 27: 6a (NASB)

Ouch! I don’t think I had ever really dissected that verse.  Reliable, faithful friends. Check! I’ve got those. Friends who point out what I don’t like to hear. Yep! I’ve got those too.  I have a couple friends who God’s mission for their lives must be to point out whenever I’ve said “Yes” once too many times.  Do I like it? Not usually.  Do I make excuses? Absolutely! Do I know they are right? Yes, and eventually, I accept that they have offered sage advice.  There is always the one friend, however faithful, that just comes right out and says it like it is.

After my pastor drew attention to that verse on Sunday, I was immediately transported back to a day about a week ago.  That day we received some unsettling news, and there was an big evening event at our school I was to attend.  I chose to stay home to be quiet and crochet.  After a while, I received a text from THAT friend.

Where are you?

I didn’t feel well.  Chose to stay home. I’m watching Matlock & crocheting.

Dan said you were under the weather.

Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted a quiet night at home.

Yeah, whatever! I don’t believe you. What is really going on?

What just happened here?  She saw right through my smoke screen, and she called me on it.  Since she was sitting in the bleachers surrounded by my husband and many of our friends, I sent her the honest answer, but prefaced it with a “DO NOT FREAK OUT! I will call you tomorrow.”  text. Then I proceeded to tell her that we learned that Sawyer was going to need another surgery.  I always knew it might have to happen, but I just wasn’t ready for it yet.

It was going to be surgery – number 7, and another one in March.  This month has not-so-affectionately become surgery month for our boy.  I hate it, and I just needed a night to process it.  I think if I had gone to the school and anyone even looked at me, I would have cried.  I couldn’t bring myself to put on a happy face.  Instead, I chose to stay home and surround myself with comforting things – old quilts, old crafts, and old shows. The whole time I sat at home wishing this wasn’t our life, and wishing I could I wish it all away.

In reality, even though I was trying to hide from the world, God knew exactly what was going on.  He wasn’t fooled for a minute.  His awareness of my sadness is most likely what caused my friend to basically say, “Cut the crap. I don’t know what’s going on, but you are NOT fine.”  Faithful are the wounds of a friend. 

Her “wounds” allowed me to open up and share with her and several others about what my tomorrow holds.  Her “wounds” allowed me to face my fears, but more importantly, it reminded me of the heart of this verse.  Friends who say it like it is do so because they love us. They remind us that even if we feel isolated, we are never really alone. 

Where’s my Bat signal?

A while back, I received a call from a dear friend who needed some help.  The request was one that I accepted realizing that it was going to be a stretch for me to pull it off.  In my heart though, I knew other friends would have my back (or in this case, neck).

The request was simple.  My friend (who is a preschool teacher) was looking for someone to make 8 little scarves in two weeks for her students to receive as gifts during their study of winter weather.  The catch: they needed to be knit or crocheted. There was a book that she would be reading as a culmination of the unit, and the scarves would be a part of that story.

I hung up the phone, and then, thought what in the world did I just say I would do.  (That type of behavior is my own curse, and fodder for a whole different blog.) Without hesitation, I went to my version of the Bat-signal.  Batman had his alert method, and I have mine.  Formerly, it was CaringBridge but now it is Facebook.  As fast as my fingers could fly, I posted my friend’s request and asked for help.  I pledged to create two, but I explained I could use some extra hands and needles/hooks for the remaining six. Within eight hours, all eight were spoken for. And within a week and half, all were delivered into the hands of some little preschoolers.

scarves

I never really doubted that they would be, but what amazed me was a comment that another “friend” posted. I should clarify our friendship status.  We “met” making a transaction online, and the necessity of that business deal required us to befriend each other.  Once we did, we discovered we had some similar interests and thus an online friendship formed.  We’ve never actually met one another in person.

Yet in the midst of my friends chiming in that they were on it, this gal’s comments stopped me in my tracks.  Sometimes especially when I encounter lemons or changes in plans, I forget just how blessed that I really am.  The comment while simple summed it up perfectly.

Kandy, even though we have never met, you must have the most amazing friends.

She was right, and I knew it.  Many times those same sweet friends have come to my rescue for all kinds of things including some of my doing.  I don’t live anywhere remotely close to my family at all, and most of my husband’s family is fairly far away as well.  Sometimes I don’t even have to ask for the help, my friends just know when to call, text, or show up.  Somehow they get God’s gentle prompting that I need them.

Proverbs 20:6
Many will say they are loyal friends, but who can find one who is truly reliable? (NLT)

 Thankfully, in my case, the answer to that question is “I can” many times over.  Today, I’m counting each and every one of those blessings, knowing I probably never needed that Bat-signal anyways!