You gotta keep them graduated

Another Sunday, another graduation. And this one was a real milestone, as Youngest graduated from high school today.

I have been noting complaining for a while now that I feel as if I have been in school since 1981. Yes, there was a break from 1989 until 2013, but it seemed to go by in a flash while I was dealing with other issues. Anyway, it’s finally over — almost. In one of the emails preparing us for the Big Day, someone from the high school mentioned that they keep a supply of caps and gowns to loan to students who can’t afford to buy them. Youngest let me know that they wanted to donate their once-used cap and gown, and then Eldest — who happened to graduate from the same high school — offered to do the same.

My heart’s been warmed several times this weekend. My kiddos are still figuring out their paths in life, but I know that they are ethical and compassionate human beings. I wish that were enough for success in this world, but it’s certainly a wonderful place to start. Youngest will start by working for a while as they decide what might come next, but college does seem to be on some sort of horizon.

I wonder if I’ll actually have to go inside the high school to donate the caps and gowns.

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I got a bit of Impossible Reading done early in the past week, but by the end of the week I ran out of time again. Since I need to focus on getting the Secret Knitting Project done by its hard deadline, I won’t beat myself up about my lack of reading time. When my hands are too sore for knitting, and maybe when they’re not, I will be able to carve out time to watch the next movie in my Movie Reviewing Project. My goodness, I do seem to have a lot of projects.

I did add another typewriter — shhh! — to my collection on Memorial Day. I was able to turn the pickup into a lovely half-day-trip with a friend. The weather was unusually cooperative and the scenery in southwestern Wisconsin was beautiful. The typewriter itself, a Royal Custom II from around 1970, looked as if it hadn’t been touched since 1971. I have a lot to learn about Royal’s Magic Margin system, but I am getting closer to understanding it.

Meet Marty.

I have also had some good thoughts related to my fictional Primary Project, and I’m looking forward to exploring where those thoughts may lead. I’m slowly realizing that a tree might be one of my story’s main characters.

You’re probably right. I should go to bed.

Third Generation

I hope that you’ll forgive some parental pride in this space this weekend. This morning I attended the college graduation of SecondSon. They finished a four-year degree in Creative Writing and German in just three years, also working several campus jobs, and I am just so proud. Our collective family will celebrate a high school graduation (Youngest) next month and another college graduation (ThirdSon) in three more years, but today was pretty special. None of my grandparents attended college, so this graduation marks the third generation of college students on my side of the family (both of my parents earned Master’s degrees).

It’s been a long and complicated weekend with regard to logistics, but all the effort was worth it. Congratulations, Liam. I love you so much and can’t wait to see what you’ll do.

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Knitwise, I didn’t do any knitting this week. Shortly after I published last week’s post, I had a bizarre accident (which I’d rather not describe) in which my right thumb suffered a severe contusion. I spent Monday afternoon — after I noticed some bruising on the pad of my thumb — in the local Urgent Care, waiting to get X-rays and make sure that the thumb was not broken. Because it would have been even worse if I thought it might be broken, didn’t have it checked out by medical professionals, and had to have it re-broken in order to set it properly.

I spent about four hours at the Urgent Care. I was whisked away for X-rays rather promptly — promptly enough to think that I would be sent home soon. Oh, no. Not at all. The issue of the day, which had been going on for several hours before I set foot in the place, was that the Urgent Care patients who were admitted to the Emergency Room just weren’t going anywhere. At a certain point, “triage” meant identifying the people who didn’t have to be admitted, and resolving their incidents as quickly as possible.

The secondary issue was that people kept walking into Urgent Care. Including people who had been there previously and had decided to leave. At one point, a potential patient walked in when the Urgent Care attendant was out of the room and helping take vitals on someone who was being interviewed by a nurse. The fellow stood in front of the empty desk for a couple of minutes, fiddled with his cell phone, and then decided to leave. Within 30 seconds the attendant returned and I could only comment, “Some people have no patience.”

The people ahead of me had already been waiting for hours to be seen. It became a small community of people with mild to intermediate levels of suffering, and I’m certain that the experience has provided me with several writing prompts. One young women in particular let me know how many people had arrived ahead of and after her. After at long last she and her male companion were able to meet with a nurse and be released, she left by calling to me, “They got the fish gill out!” From where, I do not know.

The afternoon also soured me on celebrity chef Bobby Flay, since the waiting-room television was showing the Food Network. I watched so many consecutive episodes of “Beat Bobby Flay” that I just didn’t care anymore.

Eventually it was my turn to meet with the nurse on call, who let me know that my thumb wasn’t broken and let me go home. I sincerely wish that the fellow who arrived just after I did and was complaining of two crushed fingers, which he had wrapped in gauze and was holding tightly for four hours, received all the medical assistance that he needed. I was happy to grab a Quarter Pounder meal, gobble the fries in the car, and finally head home.

But I didn’t want to stress the thumb. I wore a wrist brace for part of the next couple of days, then took it off but was hesitant to risk re-injury by knitting. Almost a week later, I think I’m in the clear now.

I did sustain another Stupid Injury on Saturday morning, when a wine bottle fell out of my car when I opened the rear hatch. (Perhaps the less said about that, the better.)

Though I haven’t made any progress on the Habit-Forming Scarf, I have alighted on a Secret Knitting Project which I must start immediately. It must be complete by the end of June, and I’ll share photos and a pattern then. For now I must be content with organizing the Yarnhawk May Meetup this Tuesday.