Immigration Enforcement Dashboard

I don't feel like writing anything today. However, last week my member of Congress sent out one of his periodic newsletters, and it had an interesting link in it: 

Last month, Oversight Democrats launched a public Immigration Enforcement Dashboard to document verified incidents of possible abuse and misconduct during federal immigration operations. This tool gives the American people an ongoing, transparent record of potential abuses carried out by this Administration regime.

(My rep is on the Oversight Committee.) You might want to bookmark the page, just in case you have future need of it. 

Flowers in December (and a Finished Beanie)

This is the last thing I'll be able to finish in time for Christmas: 

This is random beanie's cousin. Same pattern, different colorway. Modeled by me, it will go to my brother (who is actually letting me knit him something this year). 

I realized too late how busy that background looks. Sigh. 

Sorry about my squint. The sun was bright. 

As for eldest nephew's sweater, I did start the sleeves this past week. If I do nothing else this week... But, there's a bathroom asbestos issue ongoing, plus I have my semi-annual dental cleaning this week. 

As luck would have it, the family is making the trek out to SoCal this year, so I can show eldest nephew the progress even though I won't be able to give it to him yet. That should be an okay Christmas/birthday present, right? (His birthday is the 26th.) 

But that doesn't explain the post title, does it?

In Friday's post, I mentioned a kiddo ripping branches from a tree, and I made mention of other students bringing in flowers to draw in an art class. To which Alana commented, "...flowers? In December?"

Yes, flowers in December.

Pictures taken in my father's backyard on December 20th, in the afternoon:

We're due to get lots of rain this week. So, we were enjoying the sun for now. (Sorry, I don't know what kind of flowers these are.)

The beanie posts:

• The Next Projects
• Observable, Perhaps
• Well Travelled
• Sidetracked
• The Tangle

The Gardener

Friday. High school art. Seventh period.

It had been a fairly mellow day. The students had projects to finish. Most weren't, but they were chilled out on their Chromebooks. (As the following week was finals week, and final grades would be due in a week, I figured they were either done with their work or they had given up. As long as they didn't disturb the handful of kiddos who were clearly on task, I wasn't terribly concerned.) 

And that is how seventh period started. 

But, about 45 minutes into class (we're on a block schedule with 90-minute periods, so this was halfway through class), Ashton, a boy seated right in front of me, decided he needed to talk to the boy in front of him. He called him "BJ" but then changed that to "blowjob", informing me that was really his name. 

(While the boy's name did start with a B, neither his middle initial nor his last name started with a J. Nor was his name something like Benjamin, which would have made sense being abbreviated to BJ.) 

The boy ignored him, so Ashton got louder. 

When I stepped in, Ashton suddenly had to do his art project. He "needed" a leaf from outside. Fine, then. Go and get a leaf. 

Five minutes later, Ashton attempted to bring in a branch that was taller than him and about as wide. When I reacted as one would expect, he couldn't understand why I wouldn't allow him to bring this into class. 

He left only to return with part of the branch that he had pulled off of it. Still rather large. Not the leaf that he claimed to need. 

(His seat partner was with him, but he brought back a leaf and a flower and things that were more appropriately sized.)

Ashton kept getting up to go outside to get something else, and kept returning with branches. Huge ones. He put them on the desk of the girl behind him (until I told him to put his mess on his own desk) and he could not fathom why I was not pleased with what he was doing. 

Did he attempt to sketch what he had brought in the classroom? Of course not.

Ashton eventually cleaned up his mess, leaving most of what he collected in the trashcan right outside the door. 

And it was a mess. 

Not all ended up in the trash, though.

You can't really tell from the photos, but he had left leaves and other debris all over the ground there. 

The plant destruction wasn't great, but after class the teacher next door said that the tree really, really needed a trim, so this was a great excuse for him to use to complain to site maintenance. 

(I took all those pictures while talking to Mr. A.) 

I think Ashton thought he was funny. But on the bright side, this was a high school class. If I had had middle schoolers, I would have had bedlam. But, high schoolers? They barely reacted to all of this. (Which is probably why Ashton kept going bigger and bigger, hoping for a reaction from them.) 

Surprise Fire Drill

Wednesday. Economics, special ed. First period. 

This was Mr. B's class, a class I'd done a long-term stint in two years ago when Mr. B was out recovering from surgery. So, I wasn't terribly surprised to find no written plans, only an agenda on the board along with three folders each labeled with a class period. 

The agenda on the board said finals. I assumed the work in the folders were their finals. Okay, then.

Class started. I passed out the finals. I recognized about half the students as ones who had been in the special ed class I covered long term this past February/March. 

They got to work. 

A half hour later, the fire alarm went off. It was not until that moment that I recalled that there was a fire drill scheduled. I had seen the reminder email the previous week and promptly forgotten about it. 

(Usually, the front office informs subs of drills when we check in. And usually the teacher makes mention of it in the lesson plans. Neither of which happened on this day.) 

So, I announced that it was a fire drill. They needed to leave their work and evacuate. 

And that's when a student, Edgar, grabbed the signage we use for fire drills and asked where the emergency backpack was. He led us to where we were supposed to line up, and he held out the green sign (for "everyone's present, no issues") once I informed him that I had accounted for all the students in the class (all seven of them). 

Well, that was painless. 

I hate fire drills. Besides being an interruption, usually it's a matter of corralling students and dealing with the crazy that the interruption starts. This time? None of that. 

We got back to the classroom, and they went back to work. (They all managed to finish the final before the end of the period.)

If only every fire drill I have to do goes like that, I wouldn't hate them so much. Very nice. 

Distractions

Monday. Senior government, seventh period. 

In the lesson plans Ms. P warned me about Lou. But, I know Lou. Have since their freshman year. (Not sure what pronouns they're using at the moment, so let's leave them general.) I have written about Lou before: freshman English, success, junior English, and I'm sure there are other posts I can't locate at the moment. 

Lou's now a senior... Oh my, how time flies. 

So, of course Lou has matured and is no longer a problem? Of course not. 

Lou arrived just at the bell. I tried to get their attention, but they didn't even seem to notice me. Sigh. I guess out-of-sight, out-of-mind. It had been a while since I'd seen them. 

Ms. P had given her usual sub assignment which was questions on the chapter. She has her classes do packets of work, so I knew I didn't have to collect anything. Lou took one look at the assignment and declared, "I'm not doing all of that." Okay, then. 

First distraction, Lucia. Lucia had samples of honey that she was sharing with the class. She had gotten the honey from Mexico (I guess a family member cultivates bees, or something), and she was asking how everyone liked it. Lou? Hated it. Vociferously. 

Then Lou bounced over to Lilith. She had beaded bracelets all laid out on her desk. Lou went shopping. But, alas, Lou had no money. So, Lou called out to Asher. Asher would give them the money. 

And so began a back-and-forth. Asher said he had no money. Asher asked when Lou would pay him back for the last time Asher had lent Lou money. Lou admitted that they'd never pay Asher back. 

And Lilith? Lou tried to haggle down the price of things. I jumped in to state that handmade goods were worth the price, and if Lou wanted the bracelets, Lou should pay what they're worth. 

Lou complained that they wanted them for a Christmas present for their girlfriend. 

Eventually Asher relented, and Lou acquired a couple bracelets, but not as many as they wanted. 

Lou finally settled, getting a computer and settling down to watch some movie or other. The work? Yeah, they stated they weren't going to do it, and they didn't. 

Sigh. 

I communicated all this to Ms. P. She wasn't surprised. 

Nor was I, really. 

Lou's a senior now. If they don't do the work, if they don't earn all the needed credits, they won't graduate. We'll see. 

The Nero Decree

When I was trying to figure out what I was going to talk about today, I went over to Bluesky to jumpstart my brain. I ran into this post: 

Link to post

And I thought he said this way better than I could, so I thought I'd share the thread. 

Link to article

Link to article

These are the things that worry me. I'm not the only one who worries about this, am I?

Not Worth the Effort

After avoiding it for a week, I finally sat down to bind off the front and back of eldest nephew's sweater. It went about as I expected. That is, badly. 

I had bound off maybe a dozen stitches when I decided to reevaluate. 

Reminder: tubular bind off is basically Kitchener stitch, which is grafting stitches together. I'm sewing them, not actually knitting. 

So, to get the dozen stitches bound off took a while. And as I examined what I had done, well, it didn't look good. (That's my big issue with Kitchener--I can never get the grafting to graft. It does not look like seamless knitting when I do it.) Plus, it didn't stretch that far. 

At which point I was done. My stretchy bind-off would be way quicker, actually stretchy, and it would look good. 

That meant that I had to undo the dozen stitches I'd bound off. This wasn't knitting, so I had to unstitch each stitch. Then, I had to unravel the last row of knitting as that row was preparation for the tubular bind off. This all took a while.

And then binding off took basically no time at all for both the front and the back. If only I had started there... 

But, bright side, when I finish the sleeves, I won't do all those extra steps. That'll make it easier. 

And my bind off looks like this: 

The other bind-off? Not worth the effort. This looks fine.

I'm at crunch time. Christmas is in 10 days. Will I finish the sweater in time? (The answer is no. This is not getting finished in time. Deep sigh.) 

Sweater Tracking:

• Starting the Sweater
• Getting to the Back
• Missed Deadline
• Distractions from Knitting
• A Month Late
• Inching Along
• Tracking the Growth
• Weekly Sweater Update
• Moving Right Along
• Good Progress
• Almost to the Interesting Part
• Plot Twist

Issues of the Day

Friday. BEST. 

(I finally found out what the acronym stands for. Behavioral and Emotional Support Teacher. It was driving me crazy not knowing, and now I do. Phew.) 

Small class, but it has to be as the students need extra support. Academically they're at grade level, but emotionally, not so much. 

We were warned early on that it might not be a good day for Gavin. The previous night he had switched foster homes, so we weren't sure if it was going to be a good day or a bad day for him. 

Gavin started off okay, but by the second period, he and his friend were disappearing from class (not bothering to ask permission or even inform anyone of where they were going) and returning only to go out again. (Eventually we learned they were going in search of snacks.) 

It all came to a head when Gavin took something from the instructional aide (a ski mask) and wouldn't return it. This was when Gavin was sent to the principal's office and he did not return. 

And then there was Dennis. 

As it was Friday, it was make up work day. Dennis had one assignment to make up, and then he pulled out his PlayStation. 

Mr. T had told me that if they were finished, they could play games or watch a movie. It was kind of a reward for getting through the week. No worries, then. 

Dennis logged into his account only to find he had been suspended. For a year. 

I threw out some ideas as to what the suspension could have been for as the notification did not specify. Dennis had to do some searching to figure it out.

He had been suspended for pornography. Which was confusing to him as he had not done anything that would qualify as pornography. He complained that he was fourteen, there was nothing he could have done to warrant that. 

Now, there have been days and students and situations where I'd say that the kiddo clearly did something that was a problem. For Dennis? Nope. I believe him when he says that he did nothing wrong. 

He tried to find a way to appeal the decision, but he couldn't get in contact with a human. As he went through that, he figured out what must have happened. He had reported a fellow player for bullying him. He figured that that player had falsely reported him as retaliation. 

That tracks. 

Dennis did not get his account restored. Instead, we started a movie and another student requested a board game that Dennis joined. (Monopoly.) And that was the day. 

Not too terrible of a day. And I had two instructional assistants who were able to keep things on track. 

Contraband Chips

Thursday. Spanish 1. Seventh period. 

(This was the same day as yesterday's post. I covered an extra period. Two doors down from the French class.) 

Because Spanish 1, the class was mostly freshmen, and it took some time to get them into the room and into their assigned seats. (I had a seating chart with their pictures.) But then, once they knew what they were supposed to do, they got to work. 

The room was quiet. They were all making a good pretense of working. That's when the assistant principal walked in the room. I looked over, and there was the drug sniffing dog. 

I knew the drill...

We all exited the room. I was the last one out. The students were chatting, as they do.

One girl was in a near panic. Her friend explained...

"She's worried that they're going to find her chips." 

Chips? Unless they were laced with marijuana, no one was going to care if she had chips in her backpack. 

This I did not say. I did say that they weren't looking for food. I assured the girl that her chips were safe. 

Seriously, I'm sure half the students in that room had some sort of food in their backpacks. (They'll pull it out during class time.) 

The assistant principal and dog and dog handler and counselor all exited the room. They let us back in.

The dog hadn't found anything. 

I'm not sure if I was surprised or not. I mean, I wasn't surprised the dog hadn't noticed the chips. But freshmen? I wouldn't have been shocked if they had found drugs. But it was good they didn't. 

Six More Minutes

Thursday. French. 

The way the lesson plans were written, it sounded like the teacher had been having issues with the class. So, I made sure to watch them carefully and try to keep them on task. 

It wasn't quite the end of the period, and they started packing up... 

Me: "You've still got, like, six minutes left of class."

Them: "Six... seven..."

I walked right into that one.

Just in case you were wondering how "six seven" is going, it's still going. Middle school classes are worse, but the high schoolers are in on the game too, just not as obnoxious about it. 

But something I just realized, as in last Friday... The last two digits of my cell phone number are six and seven. Because, of course. 

(No way am I giving that out to the kiddos, though.) 

The Outrage Machine

Last week, while I had some time in a class where the kiddos were nominally doing their work (they weren't really, but they weren't making a ruckus), I happened upon an article that I want to talk about today. 

The article: "The Conservative Grievance Business Is Always Hiring"

There are people who find ways to make a living about being outraged. And the public falls into the trap of being outraged along with them. The current kerfuffle has to do with a college student who claims she got a failing grade on a paper because she expressed her religious views. 

And... no. 

If you dig a bit deeper, you find that this girl went after a trans teaching assistant and got them fired. Why? Because these people find different people weird, and they have chosen to use their time and energy to chase them from having a life. They want to chase them into the shadows. 

The problem is these people aren't all that smart. If only the media would dig a little deeper, they'd find that out. 

But no. They want to be outraged. They know outrage sells clicks. 

So, let me talk about my outrage. How it sucks that someone can claim bias to get someone fired when they did shoddy work. 

Don't believe me? Here's a link to the assignment: Reaction Paper Requirements.

Then read the paper. (If those links don't work, I got them from this article via Yahoo.) 

It reads to me like someone knew the paper was due at 11:59 PM and started writing it at maybe 11 PM (maybe 11:30). And, in stream-of-consciousness fashion, they wrote down what they were thinking, getting angrier and angrier at having to do the assignment. 

There are no cogent arguments. There is no textual evidence. There's no intro paragraph or concluding paragraph. No hook. Not really a beginning. 

If I were grading this... Well, let's look at the criteria. 

1. Does the paper show a clear tie in to the article? 

No, it does not. She doesn't at any point cite any text. She alludes to the article, but she doesn't paraphrase anything from it. She doesn't even cite the title or author of the article. (The high school English classes are taught how to write a sentence that tags the article they're using. So, it's something she should have known how to do.) 

2. Does the paper present a thoughtful reaction or response to the article, rather than a summary?

Well, she does not summarize the article. Is her reaction thoughtful? Meh. I might have given some points for this, just because she did turn it in and she did react, albeit without providing clear evidence to support her point. Lots of hand waving excuses for why the article was wrong.

3. Is the paper clearly written? 

Not really. She's clear on her viewpoint once she gets going. But the structure is a mess. It could use a good edit. 

The paper was worth 25 points. I wouldn't've given it over 10 points if even that much. I can see why it got a zero. My grade still would have been a fail. (It would need 15 points for a D.) 

But to hear her tell it and to witness the controversy over it, you'd think she wrote a masterpiece that was dismissed because they didn't agree with her viewpoint. 

Did you read the paper? What grade would you give it? 

Whenever I've assigned writing when it's their opinion (not often, because this only happens when I'm on a long term), I never care what their viewpoint is. Just so long as it's argued coherently. I could see giving a paper an A about something I completely disagreed with them about. It'd be irritating, but good writing is good writing. 

Of course, this isn't really about the paper. This is about a girl who doesn't want to think too deeply about gender roles and whether or not what she's believed all her life is right or wrong. And when she got a zero, rather than reflect on what she wrote, she lashed out. 

Sadly, she's not learning what the professor had hoped to teach.

Stupid people follow the authority blindly. And that's what they want. Blind obedience. Not people who think. 

So, keep thinking. Keep questioning. Keep pushing back. They win when we don't pay attention. 

The Tangle

No, I did not touch the sweater last week. It was part dread of attempting Kitchener stitch (and failing), and part just no time to devote the mental energy. 

So, I pulled out the beanie...

I am at the decreases at the top, so it's almost finished. Yay. 

And then I can tackle that skein. 

See that tangle of yarn at the top of the picture? Somehow, while I've been knitting along on the beanie, the skein fell apart. 

And I can't wait until I finally finish this beanie so I can wind that tangle into a ball or something. It's making me a little crazy. 

Soon, now.

And maybe this week I'll get started on the sleeves of the sweater (and bind off the ribbing for the front and back). 

The beanie posts:

• The Next Projects
• Observable, Perhaps
• Well Travelled
• Sidetracked

Bored Runners

It was the Friday before Thanksgiving break, seventh period. (I saved all my subbing stories for when I was back at work.) Cross country.

Cross country is running, long distance. Generally for class time they change into running clothes, and then they go and run a few miles. How many? I'm not sure. But at one point a couple of them were discussing an upcoming 10K and a half marathon. 

But cross country season is over, and the team didn't make the end of season CIF championships. So, they just had to sit in the room for the period with the sub. 

(They asked if I could just dismiss them to go home. I would have loved to have done that, but they're enrolled in the class so they have to be in the class even if they have nothing to do. I explained that if they could get a parent to pick them up early they could leave. Only one student followed through on that.) 

I sat back and watched the room. Several boys got into a group. They had a pad of post its, and they were folding them into triangles. And then one boy tossed it towards the ceiling...

Oh crap! Not this again. 

I have noticed students doing this again. Ceiling darts. They toss these things towards the ceiling, hoping they'll stick. 

Normally I put a stop to this as soon as I see it. But seventh period cross country the day before a vacation, and they didn't have an assignment. Considering that there were worse things they could be doing to entertain themselves, I went a different route. 

I asked. Apparently it's currently popular on TikTok. 

Naturally. 

I told them fine, they just had to not leave the things in the ceiling when class was over. No mess, and it was okay. 

It kept them busy for a while... 

(Yeah, I blanked out any faces you could see. They are minors.) 

They got quite a few up there: 

Some used spin to get them to stick. One boy made a straw contraption out of paper. (I commented on spit balls. They weren't going that route.) I don't think that actually worked at all. 

This only kept their attention for a while. Then they went outside and started racing each other. Sprinting. (Reminder: they usually are long distance runners.) 

They did clean up before the end of the period. No ceiling darts left behind. 

His Girlfriend

The Thursday before Thanksgiving, sixth period. Creative writing. 

(I saved all my subbing stories from before the break until I was at work again.)

The kiddos were supposed to be working on their "capstone" assignment. As it happened, this was NaNo, but only 18,000 words. (Wow, Wikipedia says National Novel Writing Month is no more. Very sad. The end of an era.) 

Mr. C warned me the class could be talkative, but that sort of thing doesn't bother me so long as they get their work done. And so long as they aren't being crazy. If they're just chatting while working, they tend to have the most interesting conversations. 

Somehow, we got on the topic of glasses. 

I make no secret of the fact that my vision is terrible. I've worn contact lenses since I was 14. (The kiddos are weirded out by contacts, so I try to normalize them. I tell the glasses wearers how much easier my life is wearing them rather than wearing glasses.) 

Kinsley complained that she needed glasses, but there was a holdup in getting them. She said she'd finally asked one of her teachers if she could move closer to the board so she could see. The teacher, naturally, wondered why she hadn't spoken up sooner. 

However, the move ended up being a problem. She was seated next to this boy, and now the boy was sure Kinsley was into him. 

She explained that she had befriended the boy, and they texted back and forth. They got along great. But the befriending did have an ulterior motive...

Kinsley was into his girlfriend.

She heard a rumor the girlfriend was bi, and she's hoping if things go south for that relationship, she can swoop in and charm the girlfriend. 

I mean, as long as she isn't actively sabotaging the relationship... 

After that, Kinsley and her friend in class swapped horror stories that they had written a while back. (The other girl said she wrote her story at age 11.) And gave each other feedback. 

And I listened in. It's fascinating to listen to teenagers talk. 

A Reading Lesson

Tuesday of the week before Thanksgiving, I had nothing. (I saved my subbing stories for when I was back at work.) I had the rest of the week booked, but not Tuesday. I just missed catching two assignments during the school day Monday, and as I was leaving school for the day, I was trying to accept that I might not work that Tuesday. 

Then, just as I was pulling out of my parking space, my phone alerted. I grabbed that assignment so fast... 

Tuesday. Senior English. Co-taught. 

Since it was a late(erish) call out, the general ed teacher taught the class as planned. (Even if it had been longer planned, I think Ms. U would have just kept on with the plan for the day anyway.) They were getting ready to start a new book, and they were doing the prelim work for it. 

Me? I sat at the back of the room, unneeded. 

The lesson went off very smoothly. The students were attentive when Ms. U was instructing, and they actually discussed what she asked them to discuss as the period wore on. (I know this as I walked the room then, listening in. I didn't have to prompt them.) 

This is not normally the sort of day that makes the blog. The only reason I'm mentioning it is because of what they were going to be reading...

A comic book. A graphic novel. This one: Hawkeye: My Life as a Weapon.

It was fascinating. Ms. U had the class do notes on the superhero genre. What were the expectations? What sorts of stories are usually told in this medium? How does one read a comic book, anyway? 

She used terminology (frame, gutter, etc.). She had them write about what they knew of this type of story. She explained how they were to look at the various panels and how to compare panel sequences. 

I learned a lot. 

I would have loved a lesson like this when I was their age. Graphic novels have come a long way. 

As I was looking up the graphic novel so I could link to it, I found it on YouTube. In case you're interested, this is for the first story in the graphic novel. (It contains five. The class was only going to read the first two or three, time permitting.) 

Ms. U got them started with the first couple pages. She hinted about how they'd also be learning about subverting expectations. 

This Is Racism

A couple weeks back I was doing my (now) usual of railing against how ICE is an evil entity hell-bent on kidnapping people and sending them to horrible places (either concentration camps or to detention centers... well, those are the same thing), and I got a comment that they were after criminals, and... 

I'm going to leave off debating whether or not they're going after criminals (they're not), because what gets to me is what they're doing with these (mostly innocent) people they're taking. No due process. No trial. Just shipping them off to... concentration camps. 

The whole thing is evil. And it bothers me no end. 

It all boils down to white supremacy. That's what this is. They don't want "brown people" here, and that's what this is all about... 

Mark Kelly: "We have a president who doesn't understand the Constitution, who installed an unqualified secretary of defense. I cannot think of a secretary of defense in the history of our country that is less qualified than Pete Hegseth. He should've been fired after Signal-gate."

[image or embed]

— Aaron Rupar (@atrupar.com) November 30, 2025 at 6:31 AM

That's why I love stories like this: How 200 New Yorkers Foiled an ICE Raid Before It Even Began.

And most of this is really not legal: DOJ Says Noem Made Final Decision on El Salvador Removals in Breach of Court Order

If this is about removing criminals, why are so many children getting caught up in it?: ICE Sent 600 Immigrant Kids to Detention in Federal Shelters This Year. It’s a New Record.

They're not going after criminals: College Student Is Deported During Trip Home for Thanksgiving

But it does not matter what I (or anyone else) says. Those who are supporting this regime are enjoying this. They're for the cruelty. And you won't convince me that those who have excuses for this stuff are anything other than on the side of the concentration camps. 

This is destroying the U.S.: America’s Formula for Greatness Is Under Threat

Plot Twist

I finally finished the front of the sweater...

Yay! 

But I've still got quite a few steps to do before it's complete. (Like, sleeves.) The next step was to knit the ribbing at the bottom. (Why we're doing it this way? Designers have their reasons.) 

That part didn't take nearly as long as I expected. I started with the back...

And then on Saturday I completed the front...

And so I'm just about done...

All I have to do is bind off. It's called a tubular bind off. And I just looked it up...

Turns out I'm very familiar with this. It's called grafting or Kitchener stitch. 

Let's just say that we are not on the best of terms. 

(I understand the directions. I've attempted the stitch. It makes perfect sense. But when I attempt it... It just does not work for me. There's no good reason for this.)

So, now I'm debating. I know some very good stretchy bind offs. Do I attempt the grafting? Or do I do a different bind off? 

I will have made a decision by next week. I may attempt the grafting and see how it goes. If it doesn't (which is likely), I can always rip it back and just do a stretchy bind off. 

This is what I get for not reading ahead on the pattern. Sigh. 

Well, at least there's progress. I'm getting there. 

Sweater Tracking:

• Starting the Sweater
• Getting to the Back
• Missed Deadline
• Distractions from Knitting
• A Month Late
• Inching Along
• Tracking the Growth
• Weekly Sweater Update
• Moving Right Along
• Good Progress
• Almost to the Interesting Part