Time, Like an Ever-rolling Stream

We were at Grove City College last weekend for Daniel's graduation. Graduations are happy events, even when they have to be held inside because of the rain, with limited seating in the gym and overflow in the IM room.  The Baccalaureate on Friday night at least was on the quad, facing into a beautiful sunset:

Michael Horton spoke at Baccalaureate; and in a last-minute change from William Bennett, who was sick, the gentle doctor Ben Carson spoke at Graduation. It was mercifully free of political speechmaking, and full of the joy of life and finding one's purpose in life, with grace and humor. Afterwards, students and families crowded in spots all over campus, processing the momentous life change, connecting with old friends briefly before parting once again, packing up dorm rooms and reminiscing about old days.

I've written before of the disorientation of returning to my own Alma Mater as the parent of a current student. I see the archetypal faces of generations of students, of earlier versions of my own friends, almost rushing past me, superimposed on the fresh young faces of the current crop of graduates who are living only in this present moment. I see the places where old, diamond-leaded windows have been replaced with newer versions, or where 1930's bathroom tiles coexist with automatic soap dispensers, and I concede that the newer ways of managing things are probably better even as I am nostalgic for my particular group of archetypal friends and patterns of life from the old days, which can never come again. I remember the day of my own graduation, and how anticlimactic it was to pile into the family van and drive away, never again to experience the same heady mix of personalities and intellectual stimulation that made life intensely real and personal and engaging for four years. It was a loss, but also a beginning, and I wish for all graduates that they may be able to make a good beginning and keep the best of the good things they are of necessity leaving behind.

I am so grateful for the good friendships Daniel has made; the kind hospitality given to us by the McClelland family after packing up the dorm room and saying many good-byes, easing the transition to the future with good food and baby kittens. I'm glad Daniel and Steve get to travel back overland, taking one more version of the great father-son road-trip. So far they have seen Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, Lincoln's birthplace and boyhood home, Andrew Jackson's Hermitage, William Faulkner's home in Oxford, MS, Hot Springs National Park, Fort Smith...

The rest of the family flew out and back, and we are mostly but not completely recovered from that red-eye. Here at home, another school year is hurtling to its close and there are many details to manage and coordinate. I feel the ever-rolling stream of Time as it bears its sons away. It is good to hang on to the constancy of the Creator in the midst of it all.

I am wearing my Father Time socks today...

The last day of 2010, time for looking back at the old year and planning for the new. I tell my mythology students about Saturn/Chronos, old "Father Time" with his sickle, saturnine personality and sinister aspect. Well, here are my "Skew" socks in the "Father Time" colorway of sea sock yarn by Three Irish Girls. This was the single most expensive skein of yarn I ever bought and needed a memorable pattern to do it justice. I call them "Time Warp" socks; you can read more about them on Ravelry http://www.ravelry.com/projects/CarpeLanam/skew.

In other news, I am making slow progress at decoding the mysteries of my new laptop. Thanks to vast amounts of tech assistance by husband and #1 son, I may actually be able to keep up with a blog this go-round. More importantly, I may be able to cope when I return to school next week and the big hulk on my desktop is gone and I have only this slimmed-down machine to keep the classes running.

Goals for 2011 (if no one reads my blog it won't matter if I fail, right?):

• Finish 5 sweaters
• 6 pairs of socks, some for every member of the family
• 2 or 3 shawls
• 5 quilts. More if I can.
• Clean and organize the crafting area before someone schedules an intervention with one of those HGTV shows.
• Read a lot. 100 books or book-equivalents is a nice goal but I haven't quite made it even by counting magazines and lecture series.

Okay, so those aren't really New Year's resolutions, they're more like general guidelines. I like it that way. Happy New Year, everyone.