Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Helping Others

So I'm on it again. I've got my do-gooder cape laced up and ready. The Violet of Lime and Violet needs to escape her current situation and her cheating hubs has taken the money out of their accounts. Like all of it. SO, I'm donating all of the cash I make on Etsy sales. You can visit this blog to see all the fantastic things people are doing to help this woman out.

Also, there's another warming project out there. Warmth For Washington. I'll be knitting for it too.

Monday, September 21, 2009


I'm terrible at it, but I do think about it quite often. I take random pictures to share with the blog, but I never remember to come and actually share them! So here is a record of my blog thinking for the past few weeks.
I've been stalking Ysolda it seems. First I cast on for Ishbel [rav link]with the rest of the free world. Here you see D trying to help me knit. If he hadn't been so cute, I'da killed him. He didn't manage to drop any stitches though. Thank god.

Here's a picture of it in progress with, I think, all of chart A done. It mostly looks like a pile of st. st. at this point.

I also made her plum cake because D bought this ginormo thing of plums at Sam's right before we went on vacation. OF course they were "ripe" when we got home. I peeled them and made a cake. I bought a pound of greek yogurt when it only called for like a third cup, so if you know what the heck to do with greek yogurt (not eating it straight...ick), let me know. I guess I could make gyros again and have better tzatziki sauce.
D's been cooking too. He makes strange things sometimes like these honeyed figs.
They smelled divine. Too bad I don't like figs. He ate them with ice cream from a can.

He made green pasta last night while I watched When Harry met Sally for the 1087th time. He got stuck on the "puree spinach" bit because we don't have a food processor and the blender was NOT working well with others. He managed to stick something in the blades while trying to puree. When he snatched the cooking utensil out, he slung spinach all over the kitchen. I put him in time out to boil the noodles while I made nice with the spinach. No more mishaps. It was good even though it kinda looked slime green.

And it seems that I have a new collection in my life (NO MA- no elephants from you unless they are OLD or very cool). We've had the first one for a while. We found it in D's nothermom's house when she passed away. You put the coin in the trunk and pull the tail. He puts the coin in the seat on his back. Very cool.
Then I found the wooden/copper one at an antique place in Warm Springs and I needed him. He looks like an old souvenir from India or something.

And last but not least, I picked up the little elephant planter from a thrift store in town. TOO CUTE! Fez the monk rides in him.

I've also been knitting other shawls than Ishbel. Meet my silk kerchief. This is s'posed to be made with Noro for it's fantastic colors to stripe against each other, but noro is spendy. I am not. I used my own handspun. The blue stripes are from batts purchased from HeartstringsbyDee on Etsy. The orangey yellow bits came from a batt by Funky Carolina. This thing is sooo squishy. Oh and the border yarn was spun from BFL roving dyed by Jenna at UniquelyYoursDesigns.

Up next on the list of stuff I've been up to we have spinning and dyeing. I hung them all up together to dry after a leisurly soak in the tub in many many bubbles.

To round out the yarny arts, I've also been crocheting. This yarn tried it's hardest to work as a lacy baktus scarf, but it ain't happ'nin. I give you the floaty fall scarf instead. I'm starting on my second ball now. :D

I've also been quilting. But don't judge these. I didn't use a ruler the entire time. And I can't sew a straight line to save my life. Ma, go somewhere else. You can scroll down and see Bug's quilt, but then go away. Yours is up next. You'll spoil Christmas.

My pantry had gotten out of hand, so I attacked it. Here is the before shot. No, I haven't finished, so there's no after shot yet.

And now a few out takes from my photo sessions with The Diva himself. I don't know what happens to him when I pull out the camera. I guess it's to make up for YEARS of being too shy for words.

The Merino Kid

Monday, September 07, 2009

I can remember

Today, my grandmother died. She was my last living grandparent, but she hasn't known me for a year or better. She hasn't known my father, my uncle, or any of our other family members. But she knew my Papa John. She remembered that he was dead. That's what she remembered.

And now I remember her. I couldn't bear to visit after the last time when she couldn't remember me or my parents. She wasn't my Grandma anymore. I think I should feel terrible that she died without my saying goodbye to her, but I don't. I think that would be selfish. Good byes are for the living. The dead aren't leaving you forever, you just can't see them anymore, but they're still by your side. I'm not sad she died either. She was in pain and her quality of life had flatlined long ago. She had to be taken from her home shortly after she lost her husband and put in the one place she never wanted to be, a nursing home. But we had no choice at that point, it was too dangerous to leave her alone.

All that aside though, I remember her tonight. The woman she was to me, and the woman I will carry with me until I die. My grandma gave me many gifts over the years. I was her number one granddaughter. But the one gift she gave me that I cherish most is the gift of crochet. She pulled me into her tiny lap, into that awful orange striped recliner chair, and she taught me the basic stitches while my hands were still smaller than hers. She taught me to move the needle and to wrap the yarn so that it wouldn't slip from my fingers, and I still wrap it like she did even though I have all five of my fingers on my hand where she had only four. I can make all of the stitches she taught me still. My hands can remember her.

Memory loss is a thief in my family. It has stolen from us all, on both sides of the tree. I sit at the bottom, waiting for my turn to be taken. When I forget where my keys are, it bothers me a little that the thief is in my house already, so early. I should have years before I have to bar the door with a chair or a well placed nail. Even so, I hope that I will always remember her, and those like her who have made me the woman I am today. But I know that these are just dreams, and that my thief will one day come for what's his. The things I hope I hide from him are in my hands tonight...those things these people taught me. I hope I never forget to hold my yarn and needle the way Grandma did. I hope I never forget to core a navel orange and squeeze for the juice like Papa John. I hope I never forget how to bait a hook like my Daddy. I hope I never forget what goes into my Mama's biscuits.
At the end of it all, I hope.