Olympic Knitting
Here is my progress: 4 repeats of the 24 row pattern. 
The shrug from IK that I can't knit right now because I can't read the chart and watch TV original shrug from IK is 58 inches long, and I'm making this one to be roughly the same size. Each of my repeats is 5 inches long, so only 8 repeats left. I'll finish the body in plenty of time to knit on a lace cuff. I knit a selvage stitch on each side for the first 10 inches (2 repeats) so that the seams don't interfere with the waves, which match up just right -- you know, one side jigs when the other jogs. A good seaming job and the seam will disappear into the pattern. And that's a good thing. A fun knit, easy to memorize, getting a little dull actually -- lucky the sporting events have been interesting so far! It's hard to get a good picture of the pattern, which actually does wave back and forth, as the name suggests. It's good with the handpainted stuff too -- the lines of knit color emphasize the tilting waves.
But There's More...
Bear with me because I feel like I have to start this at the beginning, but there is something in it for you if you follow along...As regular readers know, I am Catholic, born and raised. I was adopted from Catholic Charities even. Me and the Church? We go way back. And during Lent (the 40 days before Easter, a time for atonement) , as a kid, we always gave something up -- you know, chocolate, ice-cream, a part of our allowance to the rice bowl on the kitchen table to feed the hungry. I always wondered how my giving up ice-cream would help someone else, but I guess it was supposed to help me -- in my sacrifice I was to become stronger, blah, blah, blah. I just waited for Sundays, when you could have what you had given up. The whole thing was lost on me.
As a young adult, I bridled at the whole church thing -- we became C and E's. You know, Christmas and Easter church goers. I just didn't think that Catholicism, with it's dogma and men and rigidity had much to do with me. And especially not my uterus. Sheesh. Then, I had kids. And moved to an urban neighborhood. The schools in which are abominable -- really -- and I'm a public school kinda gal. They're bad. So to church we went, St. Pius V Church specifically, and dear daughter was enrolled. She became, in all her kindergarten wisdom, the Church Police, so back to Sunday Mass we went.
And found a lovely, small faith community -- liberal leaning, open to all, awesome music, great preacher in Father Mike. What? This wasn't my grandma's Catholic Church. I learned that the Catholic Church is the largest single charitable organization on the planet -- that it feeds, clothes, educates more folks than any single country or other organization. Wow. I learned that belonging to a community with a purpose felt good -- that it was right. That I could give my kids, through this place, a love of service to others, a love of lively discussion, a love of music. That I could give them friends and role models to admire. 12 years later we are deeply involved in this Church. I sing in the choir and volunteer with the meals outreach. Husband helps with the finances and lectors. Daughter is involved in the youth group, is a server, and a liturgical dancer (yeah, whatever -- hokey but she LOVES it). Son just goes, but hey, it has to be soaking in, right?
Now, I am by no means saying this is for everyone. In fact, quite the opposite -- what you get out of worship mirrors what you put in -- whatever your gifts or church. I'm just saying that I've found mine, in spite of the spiteful behavior of some Archbishops, in spite of the horrific abuse of children by some priests, in spite of some of the Church's stands on women's issues; this particular place, St. Pius, is right for me...Change from within, right? No complaining if you don't vote, so to speak.
So, back to Lent. You know, we used to give things up?...well, at St. Pius, we are heavily involved in helping immigrants acclimate to America. The International Institute of St. Louis, just down the street from us, is in the top 10 in the country in terms of numbers of immigrants it helps to settle here. They need everything -- many come with only the clothes on their backs, especially those from the Horn of Africa. They are lucky to have escaped with their lives. They are families, old and young, and the St. Louis winter, mild as it is, is brutal to them. 
We, on the other hand, have everything we need, even more so.
We got each other very nice things for this birthday and for Valentines Day -- but not necessities like groceries or utility bills paid. We are financially secure and well-educated. We work hard for these things, but still...we are so very fortunate.
So, for those of you skimming, I'm finally to my idea (the jist of which actually I got from someone who was finishing her Sockapaloooza socks now so she could do just this -- I can't remember which name it was and there are hundreds) -- For Lent this year, I will not give something up, but do something extra -- for others. That makes more sense to me, anyway. I'll knit baby things, hats, mittens, etc. probably from my stash, for these refugees and immigrants. I guess what I'll give up, de facto, is knitting for myself or selfishly. I'll still do my Sockapaloooza socks, and likely a Mother's day thing or two, but more than 50% of my knitting will be for this project. I've talked to the Sister involved in helping these folks, and she's thrilled at the idea. So how about it? Can you knit a prayer into something for these new Americans? I'll take care of the details here. Oh, and I'll need a catchy name -- Knitting for Others just sounds trite, but I'm coming up blank. What do you think? Are you in?
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