I used to hate football with a perfect hatred. An "I count them mine enemies" sort of hatred. I actually played flag football myself back when P.E. was required and my
So I played it for six falls without understanding what a "down" was or what we were doing.
Did I mention my intense hatred for this game? I also failed a written test on the subject, a black mark on an otherwise stellar high school career.
Then I married a guy who liked sports of every kind. And later I had children who did also, and who loved the University of Oregon Ducks.
In the gentle simmering soup of a loving family, I learned about football. I know about downs and extra points and touchdowns and fumbles. There's a lot I don't know, but I can listen to a game with the kids and enjoy it and understand enough to follow the general plot.
Love and kindness make all the difference, people.
And now there's Marcus Mariota, the Ducks' quarterback. In a world of college sports where there's way too much arrogance, entitlement, covering up of alleged crimes, and shady deals, Marcus stands out as humble, self-effacing, and consistently of upstanding character. And of excellence.
So yes, that miserable little Amish girl, shuffling around on that high school football field hoping no one would expect anything out of her, she'll be following the national championship game on Monday.
I don't know enough about the other team to make any sort of prediction about the outcome.
But I do know I wish that, since they go to the same university, that Emily could, you know, kind of end up in a class or group with Marcus Mariota.
Just as a mom, I kind of wish that. As do probably 5000 other moms out there.
2. Children coming and going.
There's no way I want all of my six to live at home until they're 45. There comes a time when it isn't healthy. And once they're all out of the house I'll finally get to putter around making quilts all day.
Except. . . I kind of want them to stay home forever.
Matt and Amy were at home, and then they left. I think, weepily, "I know they're happy and fulfilled, but I just LIKE having them home."
To quote from Pride and Prejudice:
"'The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days. '`I often think,' said she, `that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.'''
3.Danger. I linked an article on Facebook about a guy from Idaho who was into extreme snowmobiling and accentuated the thrill by not taking any emergency precautions. I wondered about the ethics of this. Surely there's no justification for qualifying for the Darwin Awards. And a love of risk might be inherent, but it ought to be channeled into something constructive.
The resulting conversation kind of divided itself into male/female lines, though not entirely. I've been happy, since then, to talk to people who are into outdoor adventures and other risky activities but also believe in emergency plans, responsibility, and sanity.
Oh dear, I can't seem to link it. So, here it is, if you want to peruse it:
Wondering: what are the ethics of pursuing danger for danger's sake? If you're into extreme sports, I'd like to know how you justify that level of danger-for-pleasure. Why not take a medical team in to Afghanistan where the Taliban might ambush you? Or work in an ebola clinic? Or trap pythons in the Everglades? Or, as I tell that one son of mine, "If you're that desperate for a thrill, I'd rather you smuggled Bibles into North Korea!"
The discussion that followed:
4. Why is it that, when someone comes up with a new idea, Smuckers in general tend to loudly and immediately say all the reasons it won't work? "No breakthrough ideas will ever come out of this family," said a family member with a sigh. I'm told, to my chagrin, that I do this too, contrary to my holier-than-thou insistence that I am always supportive and encouraging.
How do we change this, I wonder. Because we need to.
As Ben says:
Quote of the Day:
"I finally figured out what ideas are like in our family. They're like clay pigeons."