Socks and a Sensei: Hmmm

All the Japanese women I know make a similar sound when pondering. Usually it's the equivalent of 'hmmm' but seems to mean 'uh-oh' when directed at me. It's a remarkably prolonged sound, slowly rising in pitch. If you want to try this at home, close your mouth, hum through your nose for a few seconds, and then end with a question mark. Better yet, give a listen to the thermometer rising on the Dudek's JDRF fundraising page.

I had ample opportunity to reflect on this sound today during my first quilting lesson.

Yes, that's right: quilting lesson. Hisayo (center) spotted my fabric stash during that Mardi Gras party last week and offered to be my sensei (teacher). As I was wiggling like a rainbow trout trying to spit out a hook, Hiroko (left) jumped in with an offer to drive me to Hisayo's house in Uraga. Hiroko lives in Tokyo, meaning her offer was the equivalent of a Detroit resident offering to toodle over to Jackson just to give my sister a lift to Albion.

How could I say no? Being invited to visit a Japanese home is a rare honor. I just had no idea we were going to be sewing for five hours, or that Hisayo was going to make us a four-course lunch, or that Hiroko was bringing a special cake, or that they were going to be making that sound every time they checked my "work".

Meanwhile, the Knitwits have decided we will all start knitting socks next week. Socks? I'm just three feet into my second scarf here, ladies! Betty volunteered to escort me to the yarn shop to make sure I get the proper equipment. I couldn't help but notice that no one else was deemed stupid enough to require supervision. I think they might be comparing notes with Hisayo.