Sunday, November 02, 2003

I flew through a top-down raglan this weekend, and boy, are my arms tired!* From casting on to weaving in the ends, it was only a matter of hours. By the middle of Sunday afternoon, I'd made a three-inch pink wool sweater! I followed the Mini-Sweater Ornament pattern exactly, but I think I'll multiply everything by 1.5 next time. I'd like it to be a little bigger. But it is cute, y'all.

I also cast on and finished fifty rows of a certain secret Xmas gift. I'm about halfway through that, I guess, and it's going well. More on that later. I'm using Lion Brand Wool-Ease; I found one ball of it at a Michael's store in Ontario. One measly ball! I wish I had more, because it would be great for mittens and hats.

i [heart] bert & ernie!

Sesame Street is thirty-five! If you loved this show as a kid, do read this story: How an eight-foot canary with a sweet disposition and a wistful little frog changed the world forever.

Start talking with a few friends about the salesman Lefty's furtive, "Would you like to buy an O" routine, Roosevelt Franklin's poems or Don Music bashing his head on his piano, add beer and -- voila! -- instant party. Catch an early-morning episode with Guy Smiley, or one with Kermit interviewing the Three Little Pigs or the Seven Dwarfs and you'll be instantly transported. Suddenly you're two again, drooling, gumming an Arrowroot, all the while highchair dancing. It's that good.
It was that good. I watched Sesame Street every weekday morning at eleven, after Mr. Dressup and The Friendly Giant. My mom would be in the kitchen making lunch (my dad always rode his bike home at noon for lunch and a quick nap). I remember a few segments in particular: a girl named "Wil-Wil-Wilomena!", the fuzzy aliens who panic when the telephone rings, the baker who falls down the steps while carrying an armload of pies (which, I'm told, used to really upset my brother). I loved the song that counted to 12: "one-two-three-FOUR-FIVE-six-seven-eight-NINE-TEN-eleven-twe-e-e-E-E-e-ELVE!" I still describe certain situations by singing "One of these things is not like the others..." And it never failed to frustrate me that Snuffy would have to leave just before Big Bird returned with Bob or Olivia or Mr. Hooper. Canadian kids now watch Sesame Park, which apparently better reflects The Canadian Experience (i.e., it takes place in a nice, clean park and stars a polar bear [rolling my eyes]). That's a shame. I grew up on the edge of a small town that was almost totally white, and I think it was really important for me that Sesame Street depicted a diverse inner-city environment. For me, the thought of living in an apartment was exotic, let alone having neighbours named Luis and Maria who had accents. I saw more black kids on that show than I saw in real life until about the age of 20. My parents listened to classical music, but Sesame Street included all kinds of wacky 1970s music. I had parks! I didn't need to watch TV about a park. Sesame Street brought the funk into this kid's young life, along with evidence that other people in other places lived differently. That was important.

But...Big Bird was a canary?!

* That groaner's for you, Em!

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