Is February the shortest month of the year or the longest? Goodness. March is here, and so is the excellent weather. We even got out on bikes twice this past week. Here are some highlights from the rest of the month of February. The phonetic theme of this roundup is: “Kn.” We’ll start with hats and end with socks.
Knitting
I spent at least ten hours this month knitting, and now I have… most of a hat. I’m a beginner. But I do enjoy knitting. There’s something very satisfying about repeating the same motion about a thousand times. You can make all sorts of things with the same few stitch patterns. In this way, knitting reminds me of rote prayer, like the Rosary. You say the same things, over and over again, for a prescribed number of times in a certain pattern. This kind of prayer is very helpful if you do not know what you’re supposed to say—just that you need to pray. So you pray the same words, over and over again, and before you know it, you have a hat.
Knock Knock
The two-year-old was introduced to knock-knock jokes. Here’s how that’s going:
Him: “KNOCK KNOCK.”
Me: “Who’s there?”
Him: “Nnn-up—nn-COW.”
Me: “Interrupting cow who?”
Him: (maniacal laugh) “KNOCK KNOCK!”
His delivery could use a little work. The enthusiasm is unparalleled.
Knowledge
(Ok, this happened yesterday, which was in March, but let’s throw it in anyway.)
I went to a neighboring parish with a few friends to talk to some ladies about CCM (The Confraternity of Christian Mothers). CCM is a group of mothers who pray for each other and for each other’s children. It was founded in France in the 1850s and now has chapters worldwide.
On the car ride over, we talked about what we planned to say to this group, who wanted to know the purpose of the Confraternity and what made it distinct from an intergenerational moms’ group, which was something they already had. I mentioned that I planned on talking about Saint Zélie Martin, the mother of Saint Thérèse, being a part of the Confraternity.
The reply from the front of the car: “We don’t really know if she was a part of it. All we know is that she attended a meeting once.”1
Gulp.
I looked at the papers in my lap, which included a note from one of Saint Zélie’s letters.2 Sure enough, neither her letter nor the footnote the editor wrote give evidence to indicate that Saint Zélie ever decided to become a member. This is important, because I’ve told that historical tidbit—which I suddenly understood was something I made up based on an unfounded inference—to many people on several different occasions, including in this newsletter.3
I did an internal scramble for something else to say which was punctuated by thoughts of “YOU FRAUD.” Then, it occurred to me that maybe I was just supposed to… enjoy the morning.
And, you know what? I did. We all went to mass together, then had breakfast in the parish hall and talked. I even said a few things about CCM that are, to the best of my knowledge, true. The best part was when a seven-year-old ran back in from the playground with a freshly pulled tooth. She dropped it in her mother’s lap and ran away.
Knighthood
Speaking of being a fraud, we’ve dipped into Don Quixote. Jonny heard that Dostoyevsky once called it “the final and greatest utterance of the human mind,”4 and I’ve loved the musical for as long as I can remember, so it seemed like a good pick. Now, we are only at the beginning. But the Prologue of Don Quixote is required reading for anyone who has ever styled themselves a writer. I mean, if you really want to start a conversation about feeling like a fraud, but you also need to laugh (read: you are experiencing imposter syndrome), read Cervantes’s prologue. You’ll be glad you did.
I was talking about the book with my oldest, who loves knights and was intrigued by the book’s cover.
“Is he a knight?” he asked, pointing at Don Quixote.
“Well, he thinks he’s a knight,” I replied.
“Oh. Does he have a sword?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have a shield?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have a lance?”
“Yes.”
“So is he a knight?”
“Well, he thinks he is a knight, but no one else does.”
“Oh. So, is he a knight?”
IS HE, THOUGH?5 What about the rest of us? Are we what we think we are? Do our hopes and dreams have any bearing on reality? If we ever finish Don Quixote, I’ll let you know.
Knee-High Socks
So, I bought all black socks for the children about a year ago. All the same size, style, and color. And I thought I was on the other side of the “I CAN’T FIND ANY SOCKS” problem.
I wasn’t.
My seven-year-old son (the same one who loves knights) has the same size feet as I do (he’s on the tall side, I’m on the short side). And I was asking him to wear toddler socks. So I ordered him his own socks. He practically fell to his knees in gratitude when he tried them on: “These go all the way up to my knees! I don’t even have to pull them that hard!”
But while we’re here…
I look forward to commenting on what this data reveals about us. I’ll try not to make any unfounded inferences.
And happy SPRING (soon!)!
This was the most gracious correction, by the way. It was to the point and very helpful, and I am so grateful she said something!
I found this letter in Call to A Deeper Love, which contains letters of the Martin family. (Also, I don’t even know how to run affiliate links, so, no, none of my links are ever affiliate.)
This is not true. Now begins the hunt for a Saint who was a part of CCM. I’ll find one!
Jonny’s note: “YES! He is! But you should tell them I haven’t read any more of the book than you have.”
My family’s sock solution was safety pinning them together before they went into the dirty clothes hamper, and washing them that way. No “re-pairing” needed afterwards!
Love hearing from you. Mismatched socks for the win! It’s too hard.
Shameless plug about mismatched socks.. on World Down Syndome day, March 21, people can wear mismatched socks (like they are selling them) to celebrate these wonderful people.
Hoping the world catches on to mismatched socks and that kids like our Sammy are forever shown love and why I think of SELLING them mismatched?
And also your kids are so fun and silly and I love them.
Hope you all are doing well. I’ve had you in my thoughts often, friend!