Listen, My Children...

Every Little Helps

Sunday, December 21, 2003


Bob gave me a fabulous Christmas present -- a turntable/radio/CD/Cassette player! So, I've been running through my father's old records: Woodstock albums, soundtracks to movies like "Wild in the Streets" (which I heartily recommend), and a whole lot of Steppenwolf.

Steppenwolf, which has a great pianist, is not your average druggie hippie band, nor your average steel-guitar band. Their song, "I'm asking," admonishes parents to raise their children with tenderness, with discipline, and with a strong moral compass. What are the chances of coming across that in a rock band today?

On the other hand, I've just finished knitting a very involved sweater for him, made from Navajo wool I bought at the Grand Canyon over a year ago (been working on it ever since). Of course, what's my luck, but he tells me last week that he's allergic to wool. I've never noticed him avoiding it before; he tries on wool coats and sweaters in stores regularly, and I've never seen him check a tag. I'll give this sweater to him anyhow, as fifteen months of work is simply not something I plan on abandoning. I hope he makes at least a pretense of liking it; how was I to know?

Eh, but I'm feeling kind of low about the whole thing. I did have a nice telephone conversation with his mother, though, which is always a good thing.

And I'm off to see my father's farmer family in North Carolina tomorrow morning, so no blogging before Friday. Merry Christmas or whatnot, all!


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