Secret Siblings

Whew! I just came off of a weekend that involved viewing 13 full-length, first-season, hour-long episodes of The Walton's! If you only vaguely remember this program it first came out in the olden days of 1972.

I wasn't very interested in the show back then because well, I was busy being a Walton of sorts. I was a little kid, the oldest of 5, actually living that big ol', innocent, large family, "'g'night John-Boy", three-to-a-bedroom lifestyle. I wasn't about to be entertained by it.

In 1972 I sought to live vicariously through those fantastic old, "ultra-cool" Mary Tyler Moore reruns. (After all, she had her own studio apartment, an awesome job working with Mr. Lou Grant in the TWIN Cities, perfect hair that curled up evenly on both sides and a super-fun neighbor, Ms. Rhoda Morgenstern!)

But, back to this past weekend. When you watch 13 full-length, first-season, hour-long episodes of The Walton's (without commercial interuption) it really starts to work on you a bit, on an unconscious level. Honestly, it can cause a person to act differently. Not initially. Initially I was mildly offended to realize that, here I was watching an old-timey country show that apparently has no sheep, spinnning wheels, looms, knitting needles/crochet hooks/tatting shuttles... everything I would associate with these golden days of yesteryear appears to be missing. Wha?

But, around episode III  entitled, "The Calf" and all about the family dairy cow having a child (first aired on September 28, 1972), I started to feel the effects of a whole lotta Waltons. Before I knew it I was up in the attic digging out the old ice cream freezer and then pedaling off (on my new Christmas Bike) to the store for an ungodly amount of milk, white sugar, real vanilla extract and heavy whipping cream.

If one were to replace that electrical cord with a hand crank it would be very "Waltony"

When you don't have your own dairy animal this kind of ice cream can run about $42.73 a quart. HOLY COW! But, I'm off topic. I was going to talk all about my secret, secret person. Do you see how dangerous the Walton's are? I'm a little afraid for myself as we still have 11 episodes to peruse! And, I just know Claxton is going to get seasons 2-5 for Valentine's Day. (By then I expect we'll have traded the Astro van in for a mule.)

O.K. Secret Siblings: So the Waltony family of my own childhood is all grown up now but, we still carry on a youthful Christmas tradition that our mum started for us long ago, before the turn of the century. She realized that there were way too many of us children to all try and shop for each other on our individual allowances and those modest babysitting wages. She initiated the tradition of siblings drawing names and buying only for one "secret person". And, the tradition has carried on all these years since. We have tweeked it a bit, added a wrinkle: the gifty must be homemade.

This year my youngest sister drew my name and on Christmas Eve I received an originally crafted and completely unique calendar that featured her two children:

Sweet aren't they? It's really sad to think how these youngsters have both become so horribly addicted to fiber arts at such an early age. That wooly addiction gene was passed down on our Mother's side.  She had a yarn stash that could rival a well-stocked craft store. (I should know I'm now the Gatekeeper-to-the-Stash.)

How does one know that the addictive gene has gone on to infect the next generation? Well, here's the November 2010 picture on my new calendar:

Notice how cute and smiley my youngest niece was in the first photo? Well, look closely at the above picture. There she is, at only 2 years old, feverishly blending a woolen batt on the drum carder.  I tell you I defy ANYONE to get between this little one and the task at hand when wool-play is involved. I rest my case.