John comes from a very international family. His mom is British, his dad is German, and he has a whole host of cousins all over the world. They are all very nice, although occasionally we run into cross-cultural divides. I was inadvertently snotty to John’s Auntie Bea when she was here a few weeks ago, answering the question I thought she’d asked, when in fact she wanted to know something different. And I do get the impression sometimes that they are amused by my American enthusiasm and brashness. That’s ok though, because I am amused by their dependence on tea, their overuse of the term brilliant, and their pronunciation of the words aluminum (aluminium), lieutenant (leftenant) and schedule (schedule).
Right now, Auntie Jimmie is visiting from Australia to spend some time with Nora.
Last night, while hanging out with them, we were discussing my exercise schedule, and I mentioned that on Thursday nights, I had spinning class.
Auntie Jimmie was quite enthusiastic about spinning, and said she had a friend in Brisbane who did spinning. I found this a bit surprising, since Auntie Jimmie is probably around 70 years old. However, all of my husband’s relatives have a wide range of friends and acquaintances, so it seemed possible she knew someone who enjoys spinning class.
But then she went on to the me the story of her friend in Ireland’s mother, who would go around picking up bits of wool left behind by sheep on fences in the countryside, which she would then wash and card and spin it in to yarn. Obviously, by this point in the story, I had figured out that we were talking about two completely different activities, so I broke in to gently describe the sort of spinning that I do. I had to act quickly before anyone started thinking I could produce a ball of yarn or something. I’m a slow enough knitter as it is. Can you imagine if I had to create my own yarn, too?
Creating your own yarn...that's hardcore!