And straight on to Christmas

The (downward? depends on how you see it) slide is beginning. Thanksgiving over and past, it's straight on to Christmas, express, with a brief stop at the solstice to wish I had time to throw a solstice party with carols and warm food. (No time, plus others have claim to the pre-Christmas weekends.)
We spent Thanksgiving with my grad school friend, cooking a huge dinner and eating too much. Wonderful.


Janice with bacon wrapped dates. mmmmm....


Last minute food prep

Then the Fool and Jamie and I packed and headed for Breaking Up Thanksgiving, the annual contra dance weekend, in the wilds of northwest Illinois. It was Jamie's first dance weekend. He visited with many of his Chicago friends, laughed for Big Bill, made some new friends and hung out in his sling while we danced and played tunes.



The Fool explains to Jamie, "See, you push this with your finger and it makes a sound." He was pleased to notice his kid does not bang with fists, but instead uses his index finger. I said, "wait until he's a toddler."


The dance floor on Saturday night.

We discovered something about him that thrills the Fool to no end. Saturday night, Jamie didn't want to settle down after dinner. He didn't want to nurse, he didn't want to sleep - although he probably needed to do both. We went back to our cabin, thinking maybe the quiet would calm him down enough to nurse and nap before the dance. No luck. Finally, the Fool said Jamie could fuss just as well in the dance hall if he was going to fuss, and at least we'd get some dancing in. He plopped Jamie in the sling and set off for the hall. They walked across a field together, Jamie complaining and fussing all the way, and as soon as the Fool opened the hall door and Jamie heard the music, he quieted down. As soon as the Fool started dancing, Jamie fell asleep and the Fool is delighted that he has a tiny little tune hound for a son.


Sleeping baby, dancing Fool

The Fool and I ate potluck food, played for dances, visited with people and otherwise goofed off. We got to jam with Matt T., a fiddler from downstate Illinois, who is such huge, huge fun to play tunes with, I can't stand it. Our friend Walter sat in on piano, too, and we delivered a loud, raucous set of tunes for a square dance and then a contra. We started the contra set with Waterbound, and then changed to Grub Springs, and by the time we finished, Chirps Smith, fiddler extraordinaire, had sat down to finish the tune with us. The dancers hit the balances all at the same time; they made the floor shake, and we grinned and grinned.


Chirps in full flight - I experiment with camera settings. Artsy, no? I should read the manual sometime.

I knitted some things for the silent auction. They did pretty well. So well, in fact, that someone asked me to knit them another pair of fingerless gloves in exchange for a donation to the Chicago Barn Dance Company. I said yes, especially because their company will match the donation.


Dashing - Cascade 220


Two Anna Zilboorg hats. I think I'm over stranded knitting for the short term. Give me a week.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Interestingly, neither of my boys has ever pounded on the piano at my dad's place, despite their obvious proclivities toward destruction in other arenas. It's always impressed my grandma, to hear them so obviously tinkering with what sound combinations they can make on it. And honestly, it's a relief to me - they destroy everything else, it's nice to know there are a few (tiny!) exceptions. grin.

So perhaps Jamie will never be a "pounder" either. :)
Patience said…
How soon till he starts calling? And will his first words be "hands four?"
LaurieM said…
Sounds like you had awesome fun.

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