Thursday, February 9, 2012

ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS: DAILY DRAMA

CARAVAGGIO
THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL, 1600-1601
I once participated in a discussion re the conversion of St. Paul, who was thrown from his horse and struck blind on the way to Damascus. "Of course our lives aren't nearly as dramatic as St. Paul's," one of the other participants opined, at which point I thought, Mine is!

To wit:

KNITTING NEWS

Regular readers will recall my recent announcement re the undertaking of a new project: knitting. Caryll Houselander, aka the Divine Eccentric, was a big fan of learning to do some kind of hand-crafts (she whittled little animals and Biblical figures out of wood) which, at this point in my life, I am totally on board with.

After a rather severe mishap in which I attempted to “wind together” two thousands-of-meters long skeins of string-like, viscose yarn that of course became hopelessly tangled, and that I of course insisted upon taking literally five to six hours to unwind (though in my OCD way I actually, strangely, enjoyed this), followed by an abortive attempt to start a scarf while simultaneously watching Joseph Losey’s The Servant, I have re-started the scarf, and it might actually be shaping up!


I also managed to knit out a skein of beautiful red-orange ribbon and completed what turned out to be a 9-inch or so square of…What is it? I asked myself after consulting my how-to knitting book and triumphantly “binding off.” A guest (i.e. never to be used) washcloth? A welcome mat for a gay dog-house? In a burst of inspiration, I folded my creation in two, stitched up the sides, snipped off a royal blue tassel from one of the many moth-eaten lengths of tapestry draped about my room, affixed a silver cross (ditto) to the whole, and now have a kind of gerry-built makeup case! That can't travel anywhere much besides the back of my toilet as everything would fall out. Frankly, however, the whole calming, repetitive, over, around, under, and through or however it goes process is such balm to my fevered psyche that so far I hardly care whether I'm actually making anything.

BOOTH AT THE COUNTY FAIR, ANYONE?
A huge shout-out to my friend Christine, an expert knitter herself, who, when she got wind of my desire to learn a craft, presented me with a giant bag of needles, knitting guides and magazines, and many many skeins of what I'm sure is incredibly expensive yarn. Now is that not a friend? I have many such people in my life and I thank God daily for them.

TREASURES IN THE MAIL
Ten to eleven a.m. is always an exciting part of my day as this is the hour when the Filipino mailman is most likely to either shove the mail with a great clattering clomp through the bronze slot in the front door, or, in the event of a package, to knock. I always have one ear cocked and rush headlong through the living in room in the event and the other day I rec'd a shoebox-sized package, return address from my brother Joe who resides (in the house he and his wife Mimi just bought, talk about exciting) outside Atlanta, Georgia.

Joe once sent me an autographed photo of George Jones (a mutual hero). Another time he Fed-Exed me a note, written on a piece of scrap paper in black Magic Marker in my mother's hand reading: "GOL RAM IT. PUT THE SEAT DOWN!" (salvaged from the family homestead; pore Mom having been driven to distraction by a lifetime of bathroom-sharing with five sons).

In other words, a package from Joe is no small thing! This time I tore off the wrapping to find a memento he apparently picked up on The Queers' last tour through the Everglades. A varnished crocodile head with green glass eyes might not be quite as exciting as being thrown from a horse and hearing, "Saul, Saul, who dost thou persecute me?" but in my book it qualifies for a very close second. This, too, has taken up pride of place in my bathroom:


ONE OF MY MANY BOYFRIENDS

I like to keep my personal life under wraps, but I do think this photo of yours truly with the great William G. of Glendale, California,  is worth sharing.


Have an adventurous weekend!

9 comments:

  1. Love the images, from the Caravaggio to the crocodile!

    I missed some crucial punctuation as I was reading this for the first time, and thought that you were "knitting Caryll Houselander"! An effigy of the Divine Eccentric in yarn!

    And as for your many boyfriends, all I have to say is: "!!!" (With a great big wryly smiley emoticon thrown in for good measure!)

    God has blessed you. May He continue to do so!

    peace & love ~

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  2. Love the Yankee thrift in repurposing the knitting. Brilliant. :)

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  3. Heather, I love that you crack me up as much as you inspire me- Lord knows, I need a sense of humor as much as anything else in my life...

    But, my favorite thing on this post is that crocodile head- in the, um, bathroom...!!! Lends new meaning to the phrase "Bite me!" Just imagining the experience of using the facilities in the middle of the night with your spiny friend also in residence there....

    Thanks for the gift of a belly laugh this morning. Life is good!

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  4. I have to say, I am amused at the timing of your post.
    I spent some time thinking about "Parched" last night. (I read it a year or two ago, but have thought about it a lot the last week or so as I prepare for Lent) My thoughts last night centered on the book as a great "Road to Damascus" story. Sometimes God uses other people to knock us off the horse, but it makes hitting the ground no less dramatic.

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  5. I got a laugh out of your unwinding thousands of meters of tangled yarns. I love untying knots and untangling fishing lines.
    -Mike Demers

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  6. HaHaHaHaHa. You're precious and priceless at the same time! I'm spending 3 months in the Florida warmth this NY winter, and brought a long-forgotten cross stitch along for the ride. I'm half-way through the "winter" and haven't even picked it up. Kudos to you for taking up this knitting craft. You inspire me. Thanks for the belly laughs.

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  7. Oh yeah, I come from a long line of the original recyclers and repurposers. Apparently my Aunt Eleanor tatted windowshade pulls from old teabag string...After laboriously knitting a foot or so of scarf, I dropped a stitch or...SOMETHING happened, and suddenly a giant swath of unraveled yarn appeared through the length of the thing...so this'll be interesting, patience not being my strong suit. Or rather all my patience gets concentrated in my writing...Nevertheless, I have cast on once again--and there IS something soothing both about knitting and about untangling yarn!

    Thanks, dear folks, and welcome, Whitdog...

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  8. YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO ACCEPT IT: TO KNIT A GIRLY-TACKY TOILET-PAPER DOLL ON WHICH TO MOUNT THE CROCODILE HEAD.

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  9. Knitting. I have tried, put it down, tried, put it down and somehow always forget. Can't crochet either. But, I can sew on buttons very well.

    And -take up hems(all by hand.)

    The crocodile head...hmmm...

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