This is the time of year many of us have reunions, celebrate the graduations of various off spring and friends and otherwise reflect on where we came from and where we are going. What started me thinking about this was the Knitigator’s post on her college reunion. She mentions friends doing well and seeing members of the Class of 48.
I am not a fan of reunions. I have been to exactly two in my life – a high school reunion five years after I graduated and a 25 year medical school on. The first was a total disaster and the second was attended by hardly anyone that I knew.
Let me explain. I graduated high school in a rural small town with a consolidated school district. Five years later, out of 118 in the graduating class there were only five of us still involved in obtaining an education one of whom had just returned to school after serving in Viet Nam. My average classmate was divorced with two small children. Various class members were working on the family farm, in the family store, packing pickles for Gedney or shoveling sugar beets. College, much less graduate or professional school was not the norm. Five years out, a single nerdy woman, I had even less in common with anyone than I had while attending the school.
I left early and promised myself that I would not do that particular number again.
It was a promise I managed to keep for 27 years. Then 2000 rolled around and I was lulled into thinking about seeing how the University of Minnesota had changed. There were a number of good things about the trip. I spent time with old friends not related to school. I got to gape at Mall of America and I even found some clothes that fit. None of my close classmates bothered to come. Many of them are local to the area and probably saw no need to attend.
The only tolerable part wound up being my table companions for the dinner. I managed by some fortune to sit with mostly prior military scholarship folks. As a result, we actually had something in common. Since I was pretty anti-military going through school, I really knew almost none of them (in case you are wondering – there were over 230 who graduated with me. Since the group consisted of both 3 and 4 year program students, there was little to no chance that everyone knew everyone else).
Since I went to a large state university that didn’t particularly foster school spirit or camaraderie outside of sports or the fraternity/sorority scene, attending a reunion is just outside my realm. I have no idea what has happened to the hundreds who graduated with me.
In 1948 my parents graduated from University of MN and got married. My father after having served in WWII, my mother having spent most of her growing up years in a small town. Reunions? Not likely there either.
I am fascinated by the lives and experiences of others, but I am too old to want a do-over and regrets can waste a lot of energy.
Perhaps the Internet is not such a good thing. I was able to cruise around and buy a couple of shawl patterns from Sivia Harding and Evelyn Clark. After one false start with Misti Alpaca – I tried the Diamond Fantasy Shawl
The first few rows looked fine.
and the pattern clearly shows in a closeup
The yarn is STR medium weight; a skein of Bella-Coola that I got in the 2007 STR Club. I like the fact that the edging is part of the shawl. You should know me by now, lots of making up is just not my thing.
Did a small bit of damage today at AudioBookStand. They had a number of kids CDs on sale. I have a tendency to buy and then donate to my local military library. They have plenty of cases, but no money to enlarge their collection. Plus free shipping and a couple of free audiobooks just made my day.
I don’t listen to fiber related podcasts. Rather, I spend that time on other subjects that interest me. Currently, I am listening to Spider on the Web. After hearing the first eight tracks of Variable Star I decided to download and catch up with his older podcasts. He has a nice combination of talk, music and personal opinion. I really wish he did a decent job of broadcast notes. Trying to write down URLs while knitting is fraught with errors.