Scars

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day (I have chosen to to slaughter the Hebrew). I have chosen to put this outside my rather sillier other post for today because I want everyone to take this seriously. And because I want to pretend that this is a great essay that will travel the internet making people cry (I know this is useless)
I am the grandchild of Survivors, my Great-Aunt was in Auschwitz, she lost her husband. My Grandmother lost a great many of her classmates in school while she hid out with a Catholic family, one girl you might know, Margo Frank. Margo had a younger sister, Anne, who I’m sure you all know.
The loss of these people and the 11 million other Jews, Gypsies, Homosexuals, and Political Dissenters cause scars that are still painfully tight. Even though that Generation is dying off, there are still some who remember. There are granddaughters, and great-nieces, and sons, and nephews who remember, who may be unable to sit through Cabaret or the Sound of Music because it makes them uncomfortable (I saw Cabaret on Sunday by the way). They might, from time to time, have nightmares of striped clothing, yellow stars, and showers that are not showers at all.
As those who survived join those who died it is important to remember, that scars run deep. Scars can cross the generation gap and cut those who come after. A scar is a reminder of past battles. From learning to pick up a cat the right way (nails hurt), to a reminder that giving in to your temper may not have good consequences, to the fact that your entire family was killed systematically for no reason other than their race. Some people choose to scar themselves, they might use ink, or a plastic surgeon, or whatever sharp thing they can get their hands on. But those who have no choice, who did nothing to earn their scars gain more from the experience. These people are hurt, and with any luck the scars serve as a charge to make sure nothing of the sort ever happens again.
There is one other scar worth mentioning. I’m a bit obsessed with the life of its bearer. Scars in the wizarding world are not as common as scars here. Magic can heal almost anything, wizards do not scar easily. The only scars come from dealing with powerfully evil wizards, most are gained in a victory. That is the message, if you fight evil you can win, but there is always a cost. Evil is powerful enough that is changes things, by fighting it we will change. But it is important to remember what we are fighting and why we are fighting it, and the scars help us remember.
The overpowering message of this day is remembrance. Only though remembrance can we prevent a repeat of the Holocaust. We should not cover up and forget the scars it caused and we should not let those who escaped scarred become complacent. Scars come from battling evil, wear them proudly and no not forget.

a post for you

ooh my dear camera, how I miss your silvery flashes,your smooth exterior, and your ability to allow me to take pictures of my freakin knitting!!!!!

I’m calm, I really am, I just miss my camera. Now, onto business, I feel less than brilliant about my lack of camera to show you all the sock-y goodness I have brought forth. I have knit in a very few short knit periods the foot of a sock. I am now, officially addicted to sock knitting. I will soon turn into a wendy type figure knitting at all possible times and places, cranking out sock after sock and becoming more and more creative and brilliant with each and every stitch. I. will. be. a. knitting. goddess. (yes I know this is just begging the knitting gods to send squirrels or something to attack my knitting, or else just an accidental yo in the foot of my beautiful koigu sock (btw, I am no longer a koigu virgin, though you ought to know)

Lets see, everyone should go read “to fight alone is very brave” by Emily Dickinson, I’m writing an English paper on it and it is brilliant. I love it, I was going to write on “There is no frigate like a book” but this is so much better than that! Ok fine, here’s the poem:

To fight aloud is very brave,
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The cavalry of woe.

Who win, and nations do not see,
Who fall, and none observe,
Whose dying eyes no country
Regards with patriot love.

We trust, in plumed procession,
For such the angels go,
Rank after rank, with even feet
And uniforms of snow.

I think it’s amazing. I don’t think I have ever heard the struggle within one’s soul so well expressed. It glorifies what so many people do on a daily basis to keep their sanity, I for one truly appreciate it. And I am talking like I am part of a Jane Austen novel. Where is my handsome, kind, rich and British Bachelor who is also madly in love with me. Not here yet, blast.

Yes, what I was going to say before the poem but forgot. I am a fool, an utter fool. SO I’m rereading Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series right (it’s all Nyata’s fault, she starts a reread and then all o a sudden I’m a book and a half in and loving every minute of it). And I’m really cruising (well considering this is me, at school, and WoT (I read particularly slow at WoT), but tonight I realized that due to some foolish oversight I left the next several books in the series at home! So I’m going to have finished one book, and be sitting here wanting more adn I won;t be able to get it. I figure I can borrow them from the library or make do with one of my other hundred or so books in this far to small dorm room but I’ll have to wait 2 weeks for the next book. It stinks because if I were smart I would have taken precautions and brought several books with me. Oh well, it’s not like I’m not already well on my way to becoming a WoT expert today I successfully thought of, and then disproved 2 theories for who killed Asmodean. Thus far I know that it is not 1) Thom Merrilin (we already knew he was alive) and 2) Gaidial Cain (this was a brilliant theory, only disproved by the omnipresent, theory killer that is Min, my favorite character by the way, who said that Gaidal Cain was going to be younger than Brigitte in this lifetime). Anyway now I’m up a creek without a paddle, and I’ll just have to wait till May 12 to read on. Ok, I;m done rambling now, you may return to a blog with semi coherent thoughts.

Mourning

I hate myself. I was trying to take pictures of the sock I’m knitting and it wasn’t working, and then my camera just broke, really this time (last time it was the batteries mysteriously dying). So I tried to fix it, and I just made it worse. I don’t think it can be fixed, neither does Mom. I’ll just ahve to replace it, but now that I’ve told Mom, something suprizing may turn up.

I’m also in the middle of a sockapaloooza dilemma. My sock pal wants to have socks that are “GREEN GREEN GREEN (not lime)” but the only green sock yarn I found was this

(koigu p140) and as you can see it’s rather lime-y. Well the other day on ebay I found this lovely green yarn

which is a similar yarn but has more green and less lime. I only have 13 days till I need to send off the socks, I think I may be able to pull off the knitting, but I could also just knit a bit more than one sock in the koigu. I’m not sure what to do. HELP!!!

I’ll update more tomorrow, I need to calm down now (I may explode unless I do)

I’m Baaack

Dear The Blogosphere,
I Missed you. I missed you so much. I spent all day Sunday catching up with you and I am so happy to be back. Not only am I back but I was also summoned that same day back to the Leaky Lounge for a Reading Group (yay I got in!!!). So now, dearest loveliest Blogosphere I have returned and I make my triumphant return to internet dialogue. Below are some pics of my recent Scarf, and the other Scarves, for the lovely knitters over at the leaky lounge. Hi guys, welcome to my party, please leave a comment! I haven’t got much to say, because I need to leave home in 9 hours and I have a lot to do before then. Bye for now!

new audiocast!

I just did an Odeo about some stuff, mainly Procrastination, Snakes on a Plane, and Some Novels. Check it out here

Love to ya all I need to go do some of that greek now!