A Tribute to My Mom

That is (was) a plate of blueberry muffins. My mom had a recipe for blueberry muffins that I have never seen its duplicate. I've also never tasted its duplicate. Mom used to make these for every church bake sale, and they were the first to sell out.

Luckily, I have the recipe. I have since let the Girl in on the "secret" so she can make them. Whenever they are made, they are devoured within 24 hours. My Mom's name for the recipe was the simple, yet alluring "blueberry muffins". We have changed the name to the more descriptive "Grandma Margie's blueberry muffins". This isn't the first recipe name change I have made. I changed "molasses cookies" to "Mamoo Ruth's molasses cookies".

I think there is no better way than to keep a loved one's memory alive for later generations than through food. Every time we make these muffins, it's a chance for me to tell the kids about the grandma they never knew. By following her recipe, it's like she's there guiding them through the steps to the best blueberry muffin ever.

But you don't need to have a favorite recipe from a long gone family member to remember them by. I had a great aunt named Edna. She was by far the funniest person in my extended family. She was prone to making hysterical statements in her hillbilly twang that would bring tears of laughter to your eyes. Whenever some one starts telling stories about Edna, there would always be a mention of the mouthwatering blackberry cobbler she made in her cast iron skillet, followed by the lament that she never passed on the recipe (if she even used one.)

Not only is food a great way to remember some one, it can also bring great comfort by reminding us of that person. Years ago when my mother learned that the cancer could no longer be treated and she had only days, I asked her if there was anything special she would like to eat. She requested the molasses cookies that my grandmother (her mother) used to make. I had the recipe and rushed home to make a batch. My mother only had the energy to eat one, but at least she had one before she passed, hopefully bringing her some peace.

It's enough for me that some day my kidlets will remember their grandma and great-grandma this way. If I don't come up with something, they'll be telling my grandkidlets that this grandma really knew her way around a box of macaroni and cheese!

JayZ on a Cracker!



Enough already. The local news reported this morning that we are having the wettest April on record with over 11" this month, and we still have 5 more days to go. To make matters worse, here's the local forecast for the next 7 days.

At least it's warm.

All this rain has been a boon to my knitting. Since I've not been able to get out and work in the yard, I have started and finished a few projects.

The first is a watch cap I knit for the Husband using the Portuguese knitting method. This technique involves very little hand movement. The working yarn can either be carried from your right, around your neck, to your left where it is in use on your needles. Or it can be carried from your right, hooked on a knitting pin, and down to your right. The yarn is to the front of your needles for both purling and knitting, and you only need to use your left thumb to flick the yarn into place.

Here's a link to an episode of Knitting Daily with Andrea Wong explaining the method. It's about 8 minutes long, but pretty interesting.

I didn't take picture of the project, because it's a black watch cap. Boring.

But this isn't boring.

I found myself on a cowl kick. That there is the Ptarmigan cowl by the brilliant Jared Flood using Knitpicks Gloss in fingering. That's not the best picture, but you get the idea. I love this cowl. It's got some extra length to it, but it's not so loose that it flops to the base of your neck like other cowls I've made. This was easy and fast.

The next cowl I made was the Pretty Thing by the ever witty Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. I used Plymouth Earth Ecco Cashmere (said with reverence), and I still have have half of the skein left! The only problem I had with this project was that I had Michael Jackson's "PYT" as an ear worm during the knitting of this cowl. Very distracting. Listen if you dare.

Finally, I finished the Audrey Triple Wrap. No ear worms here, thank JayZ. This is made using Audrey by the Schaefer Yarn Company. The colors are beautiful, yet subtle.

Right. I'm off to look at the possibility of moving to Seattle. They can't possibly get this much rain in a month, can they?

Why the U.S. needs a Royal Family



We need a Royal Family so we can have Royal Family weddings and all of the hoopla and consumerism that surrounds it. Have you seen some of the "commemorative" items for sale in celebration of the wedding of Wills and Kate?


You can have press on nails like these

You can leave a tea ring from your mug

on your coaster

The one I am most excited about is this one. Knitted figures of the Royal Family! Here's the link.

It even includes Her Majesty's Royal Corgis.

My Night Life

So, I share a bed with what I like to refer to as a 'messy sleeper'. You know the type. They can't just get into bed, fluff the pillow, and go to sleep. When they turn over in their sleep, they flop. They kick covers off, pull them back up, and they somehow end up half off the bed.

When I get into bed (many times before the Husband), I have to put my pillows back on my side of the bed. On the mornings that I arise first, the second I am out of the bed, he grabs my pillows and uses them to prop up his arms and legs, because his four pillows aren't enough. Our bed is never made. The only people that go in my room is the family and the dogs. The dogs can often be found on my bed during the day, further messing it up so there is no point in making it.

Two of my kidlets have inherited messy sleeper syndrome from the Husband. The boy frequently rolls into his blankets like a burrito and sleeps across the bed with his feet hanging off.

I was forced to sleep with the Girl once. Never again. She would sit straight up in her sleep making an 'L' shape, then proceed to fall sideways across me.

Over the years of sharing a bed with the Husband, I have had his arm flop across my face, been punched in the head, and on many occasions had my pillow pulled out from under my head. I even had the cat thrown in my face in the dark as I was getting into bed. (Evidently the cat didn't like being in bed with a messy sleeper either, and he scratched the Husband, causing him to throw the cat out of the bed into my face. The room was dark, and the cat was black. I didn't see him coming until my face was pummelled...by the cat.)

So when one of his many pillows ends up on top of my head in the middle of the night, I take great pleasure in rifling the thing across the room.

Last night was the worst experience by far. He often flops arms and legs across the 'line of death' that runs down the middle of the bed. His hand got caught in my shoulder length hair. He actually ripped out a tuft of hair. A very rude awakening, indeed. I heard the hair popping out of their follicles. My scalp still stings 5 hours later.

What did I get for my injury? A mumbled "sorry" and a snore.

The Word is Getting Out

This is further proof that knitting can be cool. The British design house Meadham Kirchoff sent gansey sweaters down the runway during London Fashion Week, which had the prime minister's wife in attendance.

They employed 35 knitters to make sweaters, socks and skirts in the gansey style. They made 40 pieces in all. The complete article can be found here.

As one commented on the story, "Whit? Fae Scotland? Canny be trendy. Kin it? Weel done the brae lassies!" I think that's Scottish for, "Well played, knitters."

I'm Not a Big Fan

of cats. I tolerate her. You can see why I'm not a big fan. She decided to sit on my lap mid-row, while I was in the act.

Settling in...

Aaaaaaaaaand down.

As Seen at a Kitchy Discount Home Store



A froggy policeman (woman? who can tell with frogs).



An exploding flamingo.

My personal favorite, a biker gnome.

My hand still hurts, so there is obviously not much knitting going on. Obviously.

Ten Days


That is how long I have been told by my (obviously) non-knitting doctor to "lay off" the knitting. My daughter was in the room and her reaction was a horse snort followed by a skeptically sounding "yeah". She knows me so well.



It would seem that I am suffering from tendonitis in my left thumb. I hope that is all it is. He did say that if it doesn't feel better after 10 days, to come back and he would send me to the orthopedist.



So until January 20th, these projects will still look like this:

and this:
and this:

Those are one of a pair of mittens for Thing 2 (Thing 1's are already finished, but Thing 2 does have store bought mittens he could wear), the back of the Wishbone sweater for me, and finally, the Harry Potter type "R" sweater that Ron wears for Thing 2.

Rather than look at the next 10 days as a prison sentence, I choose to be positive about it. In the next ten days I could finally get caught up on the laundry, or I could get the house clear of all clutter. I could finish all of those books I've been meaning to read, or, dare I say it, practice my crochet skills. Crocheting doesn't require the use of the left hand except as a means to hold the yarn in ready position. Right?...

Lawdy, help me. I'm going through withdrawal. I sound like a strung out addict. I'll say anything to myself to justify holding yarn in my hand!

There's Gratitude for ya...

At 47 years old I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up. (I don't feel grown up, but that's a post for another day.) Before I hit 30 there were many things I thought about doing. Some of them were what every other kid wants to be, like a school teacher. I realized that although I like kids, I really didn't want to be around them all day. I have 4 of my own, and I don't want to be around them all day. I relish going to the grocery by my self.

I had thought about being a photographer, but then I realized not all of them reach the status of Annie Leibowitz. I wasn't about to photograph weddings for the rest of my life. Writer! That's the ticket. But I like having a roof and food and heat, and "Harry Potter" was taken already.

So, I bumbled through life without a plan. I studied English Lit in college thinking I would get a Ph.D and teach. I got as far as getting accepted to grad school, but practicality won out and I got a job instead. I would fall in and out of jobs that sounded interesting, married a guy a couldn't stand in college, and 17 years later we have 4 kids and a great marriage. Not having a plan some times works.

Then the Husband sent me a clip about this lady. She's 98 years old and has been knitting for the troops since WWII and has no plans to stop. She has made almost 500 scarves this year alone! She donates them to a fantastic organization called Operation Gratitude that donates care packages to our service men and women. If you don't knit, they could use other donations as well, even money for postage.

After seeing the clip, I want to be Joan when I grow up. Since according to the calendar I am grown up, I should knit a scarf for the troops. So maybe those of us that knit or crochet could take a little time during the crazy busyness of the holidays to knit one scarf to donate. Joan has the other 500 covered.

NATAFINGA!

This time of year brings to mind all of the great "curses" that Darren McGavin unleashes in "A Christmas Story", especially when after reaching the shoulder shaping on the front of a sweater with a huge honkin' cable design up the front, you realize that the design isn't in the sweet 'flalinglupo'* middle.

One only comes to this conclusion after missing the instruction in the pattern where one is directed to start decreasing for the arm hole shaping, and by "one", I mean "me". So I ripped back a few inches and continued blissfully unaware that I had made a mistake way back at the beginning.

DRADNAFULUS!*

*my own curses

Look Out!

Art will get you...

A Public Service Announcement



It has come to my attention that each year hundreds of words regularly fall out of daily use. This is a travesty that must not be allowed to continue. The good folks at the Oxford English Dictionary are asking that we, as users and lovers of the English language, adopt a word.



By using our adopted word in our correspondence, meetings, and even blog postings, we can prevent some good, hardworking words from disappearing from our lexicon. Please go here and do your part.



"Wool stapler". Look it up. Thank you.

Title Here





As you can see by the title, I'm not feeling terribly creative. I'm still knitting, but following patterns. Every now and then, it's nice to not have to think. Ravelry is helping.





Those of you that are on Ravelry, have you seen the option where you can marry up items in your queue with your stash? It's really cool. You can see what yarn you already have on hand, how much, and what the weight is, and do a search of things in your queue that would use that amount and weight of yarn. You can then attach that yarn to that project. By doing this, I have decided to knit through my stash.





The husband has been complaining that I have too much yarn. So by turning it into sweaters, scarves, hats and socks, it will take up less room in the house. Sounds logical, right? Just go with me on this.





With that said, I found that I had enough Beaverslide Dry Goods worsted to make me a vest. I used this book since the math was already done for me, added a leafy trim (which I think I'm going to rip out and change) around the bottom,
add single crochet around the arms and neck; and, Bob's your uncle, I have less yarn in the stash! Never mind that it just moved from the plastic container in the closet to the cedar chest.





Now I'm working my way through some Cascade 220 to make a Wishbone. It too will move several times. It will move from the closet, to the tote bag while in progress, to the cedar chest. All that matters is that it will be out of the closet, and the Husband will notice a few less skeins of yarn in there.

Maybe. All I see when I look in the closet are his eleventy pairs of black boots. Although, I could start shoving yarn down in his boots. Brilliant! I'll be back, I have to go shopping!

Someone's Glad it's Fall

The Summer of Smalls

Yes, I am quite aware that our British friends use the word "smalls" to refer to their underthings, but "The Summer of Little Projects" just doesn't sing. Having knit the same sweater twice this past winter, I was ready for quick and fast-ish projects. Let me 'splain...no, there is too much, let me sum up.*

I made the green cardigan from Malabrigo that I have had percolating in my head for quite some time, but didn't pay attention to what size my body really is. Evidently I believe my self to be built like a San Diego line backer, when I'm really the size of an Oompa Loompa. So I reknit the thing using the Mr. Greenjeans pattern, because I was tired of doing my own math (math turned out not to be my strongest intellectual attribute). It fits just fine and I love it. In fact I wore it for about a week straight in May when we still had spring weather. I also wore it at night while camping in Watkins Glen, NY. It needs a good wash, and I had to pick leaves off of it before taking the picture.

I have yarn and a pattern for a sweater that the Husband wants, but I'm just not in the mood to have something large and hot in my lap. Do you hear that Brunnhilde? You are not a lap dog! Although, it won't be long before I can start, but not right now. We are still having 80 degree days.

Thing 1 had been riding my butt to finish his Sheldon turtle that I realized had been sitting untouched for a year. So, it was quickly dispatched. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. I realized that it's fun to actually finish something that only takes a few days to knit. Duh.

That is when I decided it will be the Summer of Small(s) Things. Nope, still doesn't sing.

I vowed to only knit on little items this summer. Those items being, but not limited to, socks, Sheldons, scarfs, and shawls. (The S Summer? The SSummer? No, absolutely not, too Third Reich.) Although shawls can be rather large (hence, not small) they can be holey, and if knit with laceweight yarn, quite whispery. So in my mind that counts as being small. Besides, I purchased the pattern and yarn for Anne Hansen's Cluaranach, and it's coming along great.

So, I diligently cast on, and finished Thing 2's Sheldon; cast on, and finished thankyouverymuch, the Zakuro cowl, and finished the second of this sock. (Alas, I did not take a picture of it, and it's upstairs and I am down here. Steps are involved. Here is a picture of the Zakuro cowl instead.)

So, what should be next? Should I finish the Husband's Tabi socks that have been languishing for over a year? Or maybe treat myself to using the Flat Feet I just recently purchased? Perhaps, I should finish the shortie socks for the Girl. These are going super fast since she requested ankle socks. I've knocked out 1 1/2 socks in one week.

Today's post was brought to you by the letter "S".

*Mandy Patinkin in "The Princess Bride"

Lazy Days of Wha'?



Whoever coined the phrase "lazy days of summer" was an idiot, or certainly someone that had no job, home, family or somewhere to be.



Since summer began I have had more laundry than usual. In addition to washing our "regular" stuff you can add swimsuits, beach towels, and sleeping bags that got smelly on our camping trip. I don't even complain when I notice that Thing 1 and Thing 2 have worn the same clothes, usually p.j.'s, for the third day in a row. That means less laundry!



Oh, yeah, the camping trip. I took the kids camping in Watkins Glen, NY. This involved tracking down supplies, purchasing new supplies, and driving 8 hours with the kids (one way) to have a really good time. The weather was perfect (not too hot, low humidity), the company was fantastic, and I didn't blow my top until the morning to pack up and come home. I'd call that a successful trip.

I have also recently acquired a rental property (can you say "slum lord"?). The property I have is not a slum. It's a nice 4 bedroom in a nice part of town. But it had wallpaper in certain rooms that had been there since the 70's. It also had a base layer of wallpaper that had been there since the early 60's. I know this because the house was built in 1963, and there was nothing under that layer except plaster.

So I spent much time getting the house ready to rent. Consequently, my house is in ruins, the laundry has grown exponentially, and I can't see my garden any more for all the weeds. I know I have tomato plants out there somewhere.

I have been knitting. Slowly. By the time I sit down in the evenings, usually about 9pm, I'm too tired to even lift the remote. So I end up watching whatever channel the kids had on. I could probably give you a synopsis of all of the "iCarly" episodes, and Spongebob isn't so bad if you are really exhausted.

I keep telling myself that once the kidlets are back in school, things will slow down. At least I'll have less laundry.

The Best "Holiday" Ever!

Tomorrow is National Doughnut Day! National Doughnut Day started in 1938 as a fundraiser for the Salvation Army, so it's not just an excuse to eat a doughnut, like I needed one.

For those of you being careful about your calorie intake, you can knit or crochet a doughnut in honor of the day. These projects could all be great stash busters and depending on the color of your yarn, you could make many different flavors.

You could make this pattern by Matie Trewe. If you don't want to make a doughnut, she is also the creator of the giant squid hat and a knitted digestive system. Those are the patterns that are safe to mention without getting a drive by p*rning.

If jelly doughnuts are more your thing here's a pattern by Kat Lewinski. She also has a cute pattern for Easter Peeps (something to file away for next spring).

And for you crocheters here is Nevadamama's pattern for a doughnut pin cushion where your pins become the sprinkles, because it's just not National Doughnut Day without sprinkles.

A Sign of the Times

This is what I see on those rare occassions I am with the Husband (his friend, Big Steve, was with us that day).

Phone companies and the internet all use the "stay connected with friends" ploy to get your business, but I'm getting a little weary of looking at the top of the Husband's head over the dinner table during the "we don't have the kids with us, so let's go out to eat so we can spend some time together" moments. What's wrong with staying connected by actually looking at each other during a conversation?

The "technology is actually making us, as a society, less connected" rant is now over. And, yes, I see the irony in the fact that I took that picture with my phone, and am now ranting over the internet. I think I will now let my rant subside by reading a few chapters of my current book on my Kindle!

One year ago today, I started a new chapter in my life. The chapter is "Living with a Teenage Boy". What a ride it's been.

The house has become smellier, one room in particular, his. I am waging a battle on the smell. Not every day is successful. I've also had to buy extra shaving cream. For the past seventeen years, I've only had to buy shaving cream for one man in the house, now I buy for two. Granted, only one needs to shave every day, and the other needs to use Stridex every day. And I really shouldn't think there are two men in the house; it's more like one and a half.

I also now knock when I see a closed door. In the past the door was never closed, he wanted to make sure he was included and aware of the day to day activities of the house. These days, he'd prefer to be on his own, isolated from the rest of us. He's probably pretending he doesn't have annoying little brothers and a crabby sister. The annoyers and crabby want to buy him a present, because they still feel he's one of us.

The house has become quieter in the mornings on the weekend. That happens when someone sleeps until noon. I am sometimes startled when I hear a deep voice from another room around lunchtime. My first thought is usually the same as the little kids, "Dad's home? I thought he was at work."

Over the past several years, I've had to buy bigger and bigger shoes, and many, many, many sacks of groceries. But on occasion (and I don't think he would want to admit to it), I've been told about a really cool Lego set. I was also surprised the other day by a quick peck on the cheek for no apparent reason, not in public mind you. That would be embarrassing. No one kisses Mom in public. I'll have to wait until I'm shuffling along with my walker before that will happen. I won't hold him to the promise he made to me when he was 7 that he would never be too embarrassed to kiss me in public no matter how old he was. So I'll just have to treasure the memories of the sticky pancake kisses and the hugs made with chubby little arms.

But as he grows older, I'll have more memories to cherish. Such as watching him kick butt at a karate tournament, becoming second chair trumpet in the school band, and holding doors open for ladies without my prompting. I'll never forget finding him sitting at the desk computer with his 3 year old cousin on his lap playing a game that was only fun for the 3 year old.

Happy 14^th Birthday, Weasel. I am so proud of you. I know life's road can be rocky, but I am positive you will navigate your way with confidence in yourself and kindness to others.

What in the Sam Hill was I smoking?

So, I go to the grocery store yesterday which was my first mistake. Were you aware that everyone on the planet waits until the day before a major holiday to do their grocery shopping? Who knew? I think I knew this, but it was not filed away under "days to not go to the store", so it wasn't easily accessible. It must have been one of the odd ball documents down at the bottom of the page that you are too lazy to click and move to a folder, and your eyes just tend to gloss over when you see them.

I was smug in the knowledge that I didn't need to do any "holiday" shopping. I needed food to feed the family for the upcoming week. It somehow made me feel superior to those with ham and eggs in their basket.

After fighting the ham and eggs crowd, I came home, walk in the kitchen, only to be greeted by a child that is not mine. It's my nephew and he's brought his little brother with him. It turns out that his older brother was taken to the hospital for severe abdominal pain. No problem, I've got my sea legs on, I can roll with the waves.

It turns out that the oldest nephew needs his appendix out, and Mom and Dad will be staying at the hospital with him as good parents do. So the interlopers will be spending the night here. My sister-in-law, aka PD, thoughtfully brought the Easter basket fixin's for her two so all I had to do was assemble.

Fast forward to this morning when I realize my second mistake. What do you feed children Easter morning? The second day of the year where it's all about the chocolate, the first being Halloween? You guessed it. The donuts I bought at the store yesterday!

I am the only adult stuck at the house with 6 children between the ages of 13 and 5, all of whom will be hopped up on sugar, two of which have been diagnosed with ADHD, and a third on crutches. I envy the Husband having to work today.

My third mistake was not stocking up on beer at the store. I think I only have 2 bottles left. They will have to suffice. I need to go, I just heard a kid ask if we have any ice cream in the house and its only 10am.

Happy Easter, Passover, or Vernal Equinox.