Jason, Kate and the Ugly Christmas Sweater

Kate's boyfriend Jason is quite competitive and he loves to win prizes. Last weekend, he set his sights on becoming the 2014 Ugly Christmas Sweater Champ of his social circle.  Kate was attending the party too, so naturally she felt pressure to find herself the perfect outfit.

Please ignore my hair
and focus on the sweater. 

She went to Goodwill on her lunch hour and bought herself a sweater. Apparently it wasn't ugly enough though, because she brought it to me that evening as a gift. She told me repeatedly that she had purchased it as an ugly sweater entry but the more she looked at it, the more it reminded her of me. Hmmm...

A more fashion-conscious woman might have been offended, but not me. I adored the hand-knit sweater the second I laid eyes on it. I am totally in love with the "reduce*reuse*recycle" motto so her purchase gratified me on many levels. 

The next evening, Katie sent me a picture of herself with Jason in front of the Christmas tree. Of course she looked darling - no surprises there.  And Jason?

Jason looked to me like he was wearing what should become the winning entry.

How could that outfit not win?

Whoever was judging thought so too, because Jason went home with a trophy.  

Better luck next year, Kate.  


P.S.  I think your sweater vest is kinda cute.  (Hint. Hint.)

      

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Sweet, Sweet, Music

My mom died in 1999, so why am I thinking about her funeral today? 

Yesterday my friend Ed e-mailed me a joke about a bagpiper. Of course I laughed, because bagpipes are funny. Why?  I don't know; they just are.  That got me thinking about my own bagpipe story, which got me thinking about Mom.

Picture provided by my littlest sister

Before she died, Mom expressed a wish for a bagpiper to play at her funeral. Who EVEN KNOWS a bagpiper? Seriously.  Not me, that's for sure.  I thought she was joking but apparently after I left home the family started attending Highland games and my mother developed a love of the instrument.  So that was that.

Nobody wants to deny their dearly departed mother her dying wish and, miraculously, my sister found someone from a nearby town and hired him. But he got lost on the way.  That really sounds like a set up for a joke but that's what happened.  The funeral went on … no bagpiper.  What are you gonna do, right?

Just as the minister was wrapping up, out of the clear blue sky came the loudest, most horrible squawk I'd ever heard in my life!  It startled me so much that I jumped sky high.  Then I burst out laughing. Because of the noise nobody - except Jerry - heard me.  My shoulders were shaking but Jerry was patting my back, so it looked like I was crying uncontrollably.  The "uncontrollable" part is accurate.  It just wasn't tears. 

At the burial site, the bagpiper stood on a nearby hill and played "Amazing Grace" as they lowered the casket into the earth.  It was haunting.  There wasn't a dry eye among us. 

I still miss my mom and don't think that I would have needed this experience to think of her.  Every time I see a bagpipe though, I re-live her funeral. And, to this very day,  - fifteen years later - I vividly remember that first note. It still sounds like someone choking a very big, very angry bird.

That is why I decided to learn to play the ukulele.

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