Knitting with Joy

The return of Joy

2009-08-21T17:56:14Z

Hoo-boy. Dear readers (and erstwhile listeners), it's been a long few months for me. I apologize for the lack of posts, but the good news is that I'm not dead (Mother Crammer apparently heard this rumor and was already planning what to do with my antique bell collection!). No, I've just been too depressed to write after what happened. To make a long story short, I was let go at Jo-Ann Fabrics because my every-other-weekend shift cost the company more in paperwork than my actual "value" to the store (who knew not trusting direct deposit could be a career killer?). You can bet Ben Franklin will be seeing my knitting dollars from now on. Unfortunately, without the Jo-Ann discount, my knitting dollars equaled exactly zero (I could call in some favors from my ex-coworker Peg Samuelson to use her discount, but I'll save my knowledge of her genital warts-induced hysterectomy until I really need it). Anyway, in my search for more money, fate intervened. My boss, Mrs. Perkins, at Illinois Relay (my full-time job) was in a bind and needed someone to translate Spanish calls for the deaf immediately (apparently Renata was deported the night before). I had taken French in high school, and knowing how France is a neighbor of Spain, I figured I could pick it up relatively fast (Canadians speak a version of American, right?). So Mrs. Perkins throws me the headset, and here I go. The first call turns out to be a telemarketer. I wracked my little brain but the words weren't coming, so I translated them phonetically ("Ola may yammo hosay" and so forth). Well, it didn't take Mrs. Perkins long to get wind of this, and it got ugly (not as ugly as the blouses she wears but bad enough). In the end, I was put on probation and my hours were reduced (good luck calling anyone after 10 p.m., Spanish Hearing-Impaired Nation!).

So I've been soul-searching ever since the day I was fired, July 15 ("Cinco de Mayo" in Spanish--I'm learning!). For days I was ready to curse the Lord and all of His creation. Then my future appeared right on the television screen. It was an ad for Near West Illinois Technical College. You may recall I had an aborted effort there, but I'm starting the fall semester next week and now I have the right motivation to be a success. Take that, Mrs. Perkins!

Mother Crammer's Mix-Up

2009-05-19T18:47:10Z

Faithful readers/listeners, please let's forget the "Mary experiment." I will never let someone else blog in my place again. I don't know if Mary will be institutionalized, but she should get back to taking whatever medication she was on.

Speaking of medication, it was at the heart of Mother Crammer's bout with "swine flu." She did not in fact have swine flu, horse flu, cow flu, or whoopty-do of any kind. Turns out that Mother, back when she was diagnosed with impetigo, received a topical solution from the doctor to relieve any flare-ups (I wasn't there for the appointment because I had to take Uncle Neil to meet with his probation officer). The solution is a paste that comes in tube form (just like Crest), and Mother, with her weak vision, had been using it to brush her teeth. I didn't discover this until I was taking care of Mother this last go-round, and she asked me to brush her teeth for her. Lo and behold, I found the impetigo paste where Mother's Crest should have been ("I thought it tasted funny" is all Mother could say)!

As you can imagine, the impetigo did a number on Mother's insides for several days (I thought we might have to replace the toilet, but Mr. Roto-Rooter came to our rescue). All is well with Mother now until her next malady.

The good news is that Joy is back. I look forward to explaining some new knitting techniques to you soon. Right now though, I just need some Joy time.

Even sorrier

2009-05-15T15:51:45Z

Important note to my readers/listeners: Mary Rountwick will no longer be guest-blogging for me. Also, her heart is back in her hands where it belongs.

Sorry for such a short post, but Mother Crammer is still demanding most of my attentions. Her stool is almost regular again. Pray for her.

Yours,

Joy

So, so sorry

2009-05-13T18:28:23Z

This is Mary writing. The entry two previous was by my rat-faced brother (he's 12 years old and should know to respect other people's privacy--that's the last time I leave my computer on without password protection).

Let me be frank: I do not like girls. Joy is the only one. She's always been the only one. Oh, Joy, it's so freeing for me to finally share my true feelings. It's burdened me so long. I will say no more. My heart is now in your hands.

Only Joy!

2009-05-13T18:27:25Z

Mary likes GIRLS!

2009-05-13T18:25:55Z

Mary likes girls, mary li

Boring, thy name is Quad Cities

2009-05-13T18:02:01Z

Halloo, Lollipopcicles! It's Mary still filling in while Joy is with her mom (nobody anywhere in the world has swine flu any more, Mrs. Crammer--get over yourself).

A week ago, I called for any and all questions from Joy's merry band of listeners/readers. What a disappointment! I didn't get one question that wasn't "crupid" (my little abbreviation that combines "crude" and "stupid"). The scent of my unmentionables is not for public knowledge (though if you must know, I use All-Temperature Cheer to make sure they're always fresh). What a snooze to go through all of those e-mails. I expected more of you, Quad Cities!

So in the interest of maintaining Joy's dedicated following, I will ask a question myself, one that's been burning in everyone's mind but no one is brave enough to ask (except for me!): Is Mrs. Crammer too involved in Joy's life?

I say "guilty as charged!" To trade my judge's robe for my lawyer's hat, let me make the case. When I invited myself over to Joy's apartment for Christmas week, Mrs. Crammer called at least twice a day (and usually only to see what Joy was eating!). When I gave Joy a framed portrait photograph of myself on Christmas Day, Mrs. Crammer (of course she had to be there) was sure to put it on the top shelf behind a photo of Joy's uncle Paul gutting a deer. And then on New Year's Eve when I gave Joy a smooch on the cheek at the first stroke of midnight to celebrate the occasion, Mrs. Meddling...I mean, Crammer (naturally she tagged along to Club 563 in Davenport) separated us faster than Miriam Tegels can knit. Now I know why you're on Xanax, Joy Beulah (medicine cabinets are fair game where I come from)!!!

I for one believe that Joy would be much better off moving away from her mom. There must be plenty of other places to live--and in peace! In fact, I have the cutest spare bedroom decorated with all of the rugs, afghans, and cozies I've knitted over the years. Joy could stay for as long as she wants (or longer). Come on, all you Joy-sketeers! Let her know it's time to step out of Mother Crammer's shadow (I'd create an online petition if I only knew how).

That's all for today, unless I think of another reason Mrs. Crammer is ruining Joy's life. Cheers!

Halloo, Dewygumdropmuffins!

2009-05-05T21:41:39Z

That name sounds so much shorter when I say it to my dog Stinky.

As you can probably tell, I'm not Joy (she's a cat person). So sad to say that Joy won't be able to blog at you for a while (Mother Crammer calls! Cut the cord already, Joy! Just kidding! Am I? Of course!); so happy to be guest blogging for her.

My name is Mary Rountwick, and I met Joy at a knitting conference in East Dubuque last year. We became BFFs immediately (for the Christmas card I sent her--in September!--I customized a stamp that said "Joy to my world" and imprinted it on the envelope--so cute!), so she asked me to blog for her while she's nursing her mom back to health. I'm officially a blogger!

As your new blogger, I'm introducing a new segment (is that what it's called? Sounds so Hollywood!) called "Ask Mary." You, Joy's faithful readers, can send in questions about any topic (except whether I'm available--I am--but this isn't a dating site!). No matter how shameful your actions may be, you can come to Mary.

That's all for now. Got to get back to work. Mr. Saltermacher's colostomy bag isn't going to empty itself!

Ay, caramba!

2009-05-04T21:34:44Z

Dear readers/listeners, I was so excited to tell you that you can look forward to an upcoming episode of Knitting with Joy on KQAD (still "The place for rock in the Quad Cities"). My uncle Neil said that his long-in-coming plan to bring a Krispy Kreme to town were looking good (I don't know how--he hasn't had a job in three years; he must really be squirreling away those unemployment checks). He guaranteed he would sponsor my program seeing how anyone who is still awake at 3 am is either looking for "the Kreme" to soak up some booze or is a cop (not sure why that profession was singled out; as a radio professional, I like doughnuts, too).

So things were looking up. I was practicing the complicated and controversial Japanese Short Row. I was sucking on lozenges every night to keep my cords lubricated. I even bought a new outfit at Riches Not Rags (not that you listeners would be able to tell).

Then the phone rang. Guess who? Mother Crammer, that's who. She shouts into the receiver, "I think I have the Mexican wine flu! Deb Mathers made us all drink a shot of Jose Cuervo to celebrate her 60th birthday--now I'm infected!"/Me: "Mother, first of all you don't drink wine as shots except at church. Second, it's SWINE flu."/Mother (after a LONG pause): "Well, we had the pork carnitas, too. That's how I got it, I'm sure. Get over her right now and take a look at my bowel movement, and you tell me I didn't catch something at Mickey's Authentic Mexican!"

Anyway, Mother is convinced she's carrying the virus and has covered all of her furniture in Saran Wrap and sprays Glade everywhere (the scent is a nice change from the usual smell of her dog Rufus). And guess who her nursemaid is as she fights off this scourge? Moi. As you can tell by now, the re-launch of the show will be delayed once again. In the meantime, get on down to Nuts for You for your doughnut fix so that your tummy is primed once Uncle Neil's Krispy Kreme is up and running (date TBD).

Thank you for being a friend, again

2009-04-28T17:38:00Z

After a three-day mourning period, I'm ready to talk about Beatrice Arthur, whose untimely death (all of 86 only!) sent the Crammer household (Joy and Purr-l) into a tailspin. God's probably smiling as another one of the Golden Girls (Bea joins esteemed Estelle Getty; hold on as long as you can, Rue and Betty!) puts Heaven in hysterics (me and Jesus don't give a hooey if Bea's Jewish--she's in).

I could go on and on about my favorite episodes of the Golden Girls (like when Bea as Dorothy delivered that line about Blanche--you know the one, oooh, I can't remember it now; you GG fans out there know what I'm talking about). But this week is about Bea, not me. So I will be watching all seven seasons continuously until the full run is done (I did the same last year when Estelle died; thank goodness I get a new set of sick days at the beginning of each year).

So I will close this chapter of my life with a simple ode to my Bea (and not like Jeffrey Ross--what he said about Bea and Sandra Bernhard is shameful): You're a pal and a confidant. Your humor and baritone (or was it bass?) voice will be sorely missed.

Get out of my mind!

2009-04-22T19:07:16Z

And don't get into my car either, to reverse what Billy Ocean said in his wonderful song inspired by the Coreys' (Haim & Feldman's) film "License to Drive". The song I want out of my head is "I'm loose, sexy" by Right Said Fred. It's a completely inappropriate song (very high on my list of targets in the culture wars) in how it celebrates promiscuous behavior. And it doesn't make a bit of sense. I'm loose, sexy for my shirt? What does that mean?!

Anyway, I can't shake this song for anything (usually just reciting Dolly Hedgewood's "8 tips to remember when binding off a pattern" can clear my head). Wish me luck or I'm gonna literally go out of my mind!

Confidential to Kerry Reynolds: Mitt Hefflehart is not the guy for you. I haven't seen him in church once since he's been on parole, and if he thinks working the mess line in county jail qualifies him to get a job at Chin's Palace, he's not living in the same economy I am! And I would definitely get a paternity test. You'll thank me if it turns out Brad Sterner is the dad. His prospects are much brighter as long as the mill stays open.

Sorry, readers--I sometimes get notes from fans, and I like to answer them as discreetly as possible, so sorry if you're in the dark about what's going on.

Oh, thirty, where is thy sting? In my behind!

2009-04-15T16:44:54Z

So in all the hubbub over Uncle Paul and the Heckle grandkids on Sunday, I forgot (really, I blocked out) that my sister Jean called to wish everyone a happy Easter. She was too busy with her big promotion to the SuperTarget in Belvidere to make it home (I sound like Mother, curse the thought).

Anyway, when the phone was passed to me, Jean also happened to wish me a belated happy birthday (it was on April 1). She said that she planned on getting me an "over the hill" card (how thoughtful of her to even think of using her 30% employee discount on me), but she wasn't sure how I'd take it. Dear readers, I can tell you how I'd take it. I'd take it and cram it down my garbage disposal. Thanks for nothing, Jean.

No, I don't mean any of that. I get all in a huff so easily these days. Maybe I am getting old and crotchety (not "crochet"-y for my eagle-eyed readers--I haven't made that leap yet; knitting is still Sonny to my Cher). So now that you know I just turned 30, you probably want to know how I spent my birthday. Let's see what I remember: In the morning, I went to Muffins 'n Stuffins (Gail the baker is to blame for me tipping the scales past 130--I won't say HOW far past 130) for my favorite breakfast pastry, the "Nummykin" (I like mine with raspberry and cream cheese). I had to work on my birthday, so I didn't have a chance to treat myself at lunch (ate my usual ham-and-pickle sandwich). And for dinner, I had to order in from Chin's Palace because Mother was off playing pinochle with the girls. I ended my night with my boyfriends Ben & Jerry (two quarts worth) while I watched a double feature of Mannequin (terrible except for dreamboat Andrew McCarthy) and Weekend at Bernie's (terrible except for hottie Andrew McCarthy).

So you see, my birthday present was another dress size. Hopefully they'll do A Biggest Loser: 30-Year-Olds that I can get on. Oh, I've had enough of me for one day.

Easter Sunday topics: Peter, rabbit

2009-04-13T13:27:52Z

So I went to Mother Crammer's as usual for Easter dinner (the same ham, scalloped potatoes, and pudding that everyone gets), but what was unusual is that Mother invited Barry and Penny Heckle (Peter's parents), too. She didn't really invite them so much as their grandchildren, Finn (age 5) and Kelly (age 3) (and neither are Peter's). Mother always moans about growing old without any "grandbabies", so apparently, she's now renting them, and all it costs her is a holiday meal.

I was more interested to hear what Peter was up to, and Penny told me that he's looking into investing in a Menard's franchise in Moline. How exciting! Just between you and me, dear reader, if things work out, I could be part of the Heckle home-improvement empire! You have to say these things out loud if you hope for them to come true.

But this bright note soon turned sour (Miss Wainwright, my sophomore English teacher, would slap me for that mixed metaphor) as Uncle Paul, Mother's brother, stopped by for a visit. Here's some background: It's springtime, and Mother's been having issues with rabbits eating her peonies or something (I can't identify any plants but dandelions--I don't have Mother's green thumb, perhaps because I sliced part of mine off with a circular blade when I had my brief affair with quilting. God knows I'm a knitter!). So Mother called Uncle Paul to "take care of" the rabbits. He did with a bow and arrow. Well on Sunday (Easter Sunday!), he shows up with several skewers that had dried meat on them. The Heckle grandkids crowd around Uncle Paul, and he gives each of them a skewer. They watch as he takes a bite, then they do the same. As they all were chewing, Uncle Paul says, "That's some good bunny rabbit you're eating, ain't it, kids?"

Of course the waterworks followed. Little Kelly bawled for a full five minutes, while Finn tore in half the portrait Penny brought of him sitting on the Easter Bunny's lap at the Hempstead Shopping Emporium. Uncle Paul didn't see the problem, seeing how kids eat chocolate bunnies all the time. But the damage was done. The Heckles left as quickly as they could with barely a good-bye. Poor Uncle Paul. At least Mother's carnations or whatever are safe because of him.

Mother Crammer 1, Impetigo 0

2009-04-09T17:54:26Z

Dear friends and listeners, I am SO sorry that it's been such a long time since I've posted or did a broadcast of Knitting with Joy. As you may remember from my first (and only) show, Mother Crammer called in claiming that she'd come down with impetigo. I Pooh-Beared her problem on air, but unfortunately, Mother was right. She required 24-hour care (prescribed by her, not an actual doctor), so I was on-call for what turned out to be several months. The lesions would go away, then reappear no matter how much we bathed Mother ("We"? I mean "me"--my sister Jean was nowhere to be found. You can't tell me she couldn't have found some intern to hang all those "Santa Savings" and "Eggstacular Deal" signs at the SuperTarget).

Anyway, turns out Mother's Lee Press-On Nails were harboring the bacteria (she's a scratcher). When she broke one of the nails and decided to take the rest off, her skin cleared up almost immediately.

So that's the good news. The bad news is that KQAD has put my show on "hiatus". Mr. Judsen cited "creative differences", and I cited him as a "big jerk". Sorry that I'm getting all in a huff. It's just that I know how much the show means to me and all my listeners. I even tried to stage a rally to boycott KQAD's sponsors, but sadly, many of the sponsors themselves are shutting down (how I'll miss browsing the aisles of "Beads Aplenty").

But that won't stop me. 'll find a way to bring Knitting with Joy back. Look (listen, actually) for a new show soon. Happy Good Friday, Jesus!

Thank you, friends!

2008-09-03T16:19:29Z

What a warm and overwhelming response to my first episode! I've had so many phone calls and emails, I can barely keep up. I wouldn't be surprised if I heard from Bea Arthur herself!

This certainly gives me the confidence to continue the show and share my love of knitting. Now we just need to make sure Mr. Judsen is on board. I think he was losing patience with my technical skills.