Marriage & Knitting

Tonight I saw Stephen Sondheim's Company. Anyone who knows anything about Sondheim's lyrics knows that he's really a pyscho-therapist, who thinks he's a songwriter, and happens to write complex songs about the very complex human condition. Company is about the human need for one another, yet recognizing how annoying, frustrating, and sometimes disillusioning marriage can be. Why do we choose to get involved in something in which we lose our identities, find ourselves compromising, and wind up generally not getting exactly what we want? I find it quite similar to knitting a sweater (especially since I had to rip out two rows of the Jaeger Luxury Tweed cable sweater).

I came home after the play and picked up Knitting Rules by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee and started reading the "Ten Reasons to Knit a Sweater". I realized that it is not unlike a commitment to marriage. (Forgive me, Stephanie, for horribly mis-using your words.)

1. It's a commitment. Sure, you hear that all your life, but sometimes it's hard to remember in the midst of chaos. When things get really screwed up, you have to remind yourself that you've MADE A COMMITMENT. Both require lots of time, a fair amount of money and "stick-to-it-ness" even when you're so annoyed you wish to run over it with the car.
2. It's an upgrade from an accessory. It certainly is different than having a boyfriend/girlfriend, or a fiance . . .or a scarf. A life-partner/ husband /wife . . . that's a whole different kind of upgrade. Now you have life insurance, health insurance, mortgages, on-going sleeping arrangements, shared bathroom habits, likes and dislikes, perhaps kids . . . these things make it much more complicated than the simple accessory.
3. You could spend a lifetime exploring all the variations. We only hope we can spend a lifetime experiencing the variations. Being creatures of habit, often the variations cause huge frustration. With a sweater you can put it aside. I find that it's much more difficult to do that with marriage.
4. Once you get the hang of it . . .it is possible for you to have garments (a relationship) that actually fits. I have friends who have been married a long time. They seem to have found a way to make it "fit". I have days when my marriage fits perfectly. I have days when it fits like a bad polyester leisure suit. I'm still working on the "hang of it."
5. There's a style for everyone. I BELIEVE THIS WITH ALL MY HEART. There is someone for everyone, and there are all kinds of marriages, just like there are all kinds of sweaters. We just need to find the type of marriage (relationship)that works for each us and get out there and find it. Just be careful not get sucked into the current fashion. Current fashion is fun, but doesn't stand the test of time. It took me until my '30's to realize this. I still struggle with this in sweaters . . .and marriage.
6. When a sweater (relationship) goes wrong . . . (it) never stops being funny. I wish we all had a better sense of humor about what goes wrong in our relationships. Perhaps there wouldn't be so many bitter ex's. (I know there are bitter knitters when it comes to "a sweater gone bad".) I like that about Sondheim . . .he finds the humor. I wish to laugh about my former marriage and "along with" this one..
7. A sweater's a big canvas. I believe my marriage is a big canvas. I have the opporunity to paint whatever picture I chose. I chose to paint: happy, peaceful, healthy, open, funny, easy-going, connected, content and loving. I have never achieved all of those on the same day, or in the same year. . .but I still paint that picture in my mind.
8. A ( . . .sweater) is the fastest high a knitter can achieve. When a relationship is REALLY GOOD, it is one of the biggest highs a person can achieve. There's nothing like knowing that you have someone who cares that you come home at night, is your best friend, is your biggest cheerleader, who disagrees with you, but won't walk out the door. There's nothing like creating something that fits beautifully . . .whether it be a marriage or a sweater.
9. A sweater project offers variety. I think that the happiest marriages find a way to bring variety in their relationships. (I find that variety outside of the relationship often leads to "being bitter". . . see #6 above.) I don't just mean sex (but that's part of it). I mean finding ways to know each other better and finding things that excite both people (like a Sondhiem musical, sharing blogs, traveling . . . or thank Heaven . . KNITTING). Again, you can change projects when you are bored with what you're knitting, but it's harder in a relationship once you've become bored, because you've MADE A COMMITMENT.
10. A sweater affords the scientific-minded a chance to experience the phenomenon of the Knitting (Marriage) Black Hole. I've experienced both "black holes". I am guessing that most people, who knit (sweaters or anything complex) and are in marriages (or whatever you call your committed relationship), know what I mean. Trying to explain it is difficult. But once you've experienced the black hole, you know it. Everyone who's ever knitted a sweater knows that feeling of a dropped stitch that you didn't see till rows and rows later. Marriage is a bit like that . . .sometimes the things you screw up don't come to the forefront until days or weeks later. Either way, you got to back up and mend or make amends.

The last reason, #10, ends on a down note . . . I don't like ending on a down note. Like a good musical, I like to end with an up-note.

There are reasons why we knit . . .and why we get married or are in committed relationships. Sonheim say's best:

"MAKE ME CONFUSED,
MOCK ME WITH PRAISE,
LET ME BE USED
VARY MY DAYS . . .
(SOMETHING)TO PULL YOU UP SHORT,
(SOMETHING)TO PUT YOU THROUGH HELL,
AND GIVE YOU SUPPORT IS BEING ALIVE." (You can listen.)

What I do know is that it's a lot like knitting a Jaeger Luxury Tweed sweater.

Goodbye My Little Guys

I'm a bad foster mom. In fact, everyone agrees I'm a bad foster mom. I rank high on the list of "foster failures" in the pug rescue association to which I belong.
Four years ago, while out for a walk with Doug, we ran into a man and his son walking a pug puppy. I was so taken by the little guy that I knew immediately I was destined to have a pug. By the end of the day, we had our first pug, Sam. (Doug and I were still at a time in our relationship where he indulged my every whim.) I have since heard that it's difficult to have one pug . . .they're like eating Lay's potato chips . . .you can't just have one. I know that to be true.

I am writing this with six pugs around me. I guess it's like yarn . . . when you find something you love, you just have to keep a stash. I started my "pug stash" by joining Ohio Pug Rescue. Doug graciously agreed to allow our home to become a haven for these little souls until they can find their "forever" homes. The problem is that Jay and I become so attached that we have a very difficult time letting them move on. When one becomes attached and adopts their fosters, it is called a "foster failure". We've had two such failures.

I've see ads in knitting magazines about using your pet's hair to be spun into yarn. I've found with having six pugs around I don't need to have it spun into anything, it's just naturally there. Even as I write this, I have one on my lap and two on my shoulders, another by my side and two carefully watching my every move. I have learned lots of ways to remove pet hair from items . . .and I don't wear black unless I put it on and immediately leave the house. (You can now understand why I might pick certain colors when you see the similarity between the Jaegar Luxury Tweed and Buster.)




This morning, I take Buster and Keaton to their new "forever" home. (They've been with us for 10 months.) They were dropped off at a shelter in Cleveland had been quite neglected. They were very withdrawn in the beginning, with horrible ear infections and really bad teeth. I'm sure the pain they endured made it difficult for them to be warm and affectionate. After operations and medical treatment, they started to come out of their shells. I found that in nursing them and learning all their little piccadillo's I grew to love them more each day.

I kept hoping there wouldn't be anyone who would want two curmudgeonly older pugs as a package. I kept hoping that even though we wouldn't officially adopt them, they would become ours by default and I would not publicly add to the "foster failure" list. But the call came, and it's time to let them go. I keep hoping for the call that would tell me that the new perspective adopters have changed their minds . . .but it hasn't come.

As I drive home from dropping them off, I won't have my knitting to soothe me on the long drive back. I'll just have to stay with the pain of "failure" and shed my tears. I'll try to remind myself that there will be little pieces of them with me forever . . .woven into my heart. . .and a Luxury Tweed cable knit sweater.