Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Don't get me wrong. I always miss her. But today the hurt is deeper.
Several years ago my Mom bought me a pair of wrought iron candle holders. They were outdoor candle holders on long stakes. Several brown lengths of iron twisted around one another forming a cup at the top. A thick glass votive with dragonflies etched on the side was held in that iron cup. They were almost too lovely to keep stuck in the ground outside exposed to the elements. I've always taken shallow pleasure in owning such pretty candle holders. And I was extremely pleased that I've managed to move so many times with these outdoor candle holders and not broken them.
They've survived four moves, including one across the country. But they couldn't survive Meaty.
He pulled one from the ground last night and dumped the votive out onto the cement patio, shattering the glass.
I was so upset. Not that he had broken the candle holder. I try to bear in mind that these are just things. I've always joked that I don't own anything that can't be replaced for five bucks. My home is very child friendly. I want my kids to live here, to touch, to run, to play, to know accidents happen. I wasn't upset over the loss of the candle holder. I was upset over the loss of something my Mom had touched.
The candle holder was something beautiful my Mom had bought. Something she had bought with me in mind. She saw this pretty curvy piece of iron and saw something in it that reminded her of me. So she bought it. And now it's gone.
And she will never again see something beautiful and think of me. I'm not saying this well. I'm not mourning the fact that my Mom will never buy me another candle holder. But that my Mom isn't here to think of me. Our relationship is gone. All that love and laughter and life is gone. She is gone and I still don't understand why.
All month long I have been assaulted with news stories and commercials with testimonials of breast cancer survivors. Women who have beat the odds. And I'm angry. I don't understand why all these women live yet my Mom died.
After my Mom died The Greatest bought me a gazebo. He bought it so I could sit outside in the sun and watch the children play and be sad. It was a place to go that had no memories of my Mom. She never sat in our "screen room." We never sat on my swing together talking and sharing. It was safe with no half-forgotten memories to assault me at every turn.
But now I live in a place completely devoid of my Mom. The town I live in wasn't even a name on the map to her. She never knew this place existed. She will never come visit. I will never go shopping at the local mall with her. I'll never get to show her my new favorite ice cream place. Our new life will never be shared with her. All my memories will be 100% Mom free. And it saddens me. It rips my soul with pain. It tears my heart apart. She is gone from my life so completely. I just can't understand it.
I dress the kids in clothes she bought fearing the day they outgrow them, because there will be no more. I can't bring myself to burn a candle she bought, because once it's gone that tangible evidence that she was here will be gone as well. How can she be erased from this earth so easily?
I know I can't hold sacred everything she once touched just because she touched it. But right now things are all I have. Even if they're broken, they're all I've got.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The wait is over. The job offer has been made. The house has been packed. The stuff has been moved. Most of the boxes have been unpacked.
It's all over.
And I'm exhausted. As I unpacked my yarn I realized none of it excited me. I enjoyed the tactile feel of the balls in my hand. Yet, I didn't yearn to create. The soft wool failed to spark my mind with inspiration.
"Oh No" I thought. "Am I going to abandon knitting now that I live in a climate that is not conducive to wool wearing?" But a gentle assessment of what I was really feeling assured me that this is not the case.
My hands were restless. They needed movement. But while my hands twitched for some motion, any activity, my mind balked and refused to choose an avenue. My mind was tired. Too tired to create. Too tired for math and patterns. Too tired for gauge swatches, and measuring tapes. Too tired to think. It needed healing knitting. Something to keep my hands busy while offering respite for my mind. Repetitive motion to sooth my soul and allow myself to rest without engaging the brain in any form.
What I needed sock knitting. Easy footie sock knitting.
I started with Meaty's "Boy Yarn."
Official Sock Count = 2. Just cute footies. We don't need to cover our legs for warmth here. And the socks go so much faster without the legs. And the yarn. Oh the yarn. Lorna's Laces may be my new favorite yarn. I like the yarn so much I made a pair for me. And since there was some left over: a pair for Bird.
Official Sock Count = 6. Six socks from two skiens of yarn. Not too shabby.
Pork Chop felt left out so she got a pair too.
I used to left over yarn to make some baby socks just cause they're cute. Now to find a baby to put them on. The sock yarn is Knit Picks Simple Stripes. One Ball.
Official Sock Count = 10.
I then made another pair of socks for Bird.
She's outgrown most of her socks. Now that she has consented to wear my knitting it is really economical of me to just knit her a few more pairs instead of buying some. And I'm using my stash. I should get a medal. Yup, I should get a frugal medal. Preferably one made of chocolate
Official Sock Count = 12.
Meaty spied another ball of blue yarn in my yarn basket that was immediately claimed as his own for some more "Boy Socks".
As you can see I've got a bit more work to do on this pair.
Official Sock Count = 13.
Feeling more adventurous I turned my attention to my Little Brother's socks. He asked me to knit him a pair of black socks. That's it. No other instructions. I couldn't find a pattern I liked. Did I mention he has GINORMOUS FEET, so even if I could have found a pattern I liked it probably wouldn't have fit. In the end it was easiest to just create a custom pattern, so I did.
I know the color is all flashed out in the picture. You'll just have to trust me, the yarn is black. I stole the stitch pattern from the Knit Picks Window Pane Seaman's Scarf. I've turned the heel and now just have to knit the legs. He still lives in a wintry climate (tee-hee).
Official Sock Count = 13 (although I think this unfinished pair of socks should count as two or three socks)
Overall I think it's a rather impressive array of sock knitting, despite the fact they are mostly generic top down footie socks.
The worst part about this. I was so busy with the move I didn't get to sign up for Socktober. Oh the injustice of it all.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
"Oh No" the gentle reader sighs "Not another child post!"
"Hey Mamma, I'm glad you moved safely and all. And your kids are sure cute and all. But I'd like to take this time to remind you that this is a KNITTING BLOG. And a crucial component of a knitting blog is KNITTING CONTENT on the knitting blog. You haven't cranked out a finished object since August. Show me the knitting!"
"Hey, my kids are freakin' cute. And check them out in their new desert surroundings. They're completely at home. Nevermind the fact that Meaty isn't holding Bird's hand, he's squeezing her arm in an attempt to hurt her in protest of the forced photo session. And don't forget I have Grandparents to appease, Grandparents who now live across the country and demand updated pictures at hourly intervals." I protest "Besides I have finished things. There were those tank tops in September, and not one but two pairs of Sock War Socks (nevermind the fact I mailed one pair before I remembered to take pictures of it, but believe me, there were two pairs). I still knit, I've just been lazy about taking pictures of it"
But today I finished something, and it was so cute I took a picture right away.
Bird in her sock.
No your eyes do not deceive you. That is Bird, in something I handknit, and she is smiling. The protest may be over. A truce has been declared. The heavens opened, angels sing and peace reigns throughout the land.
Unfortunately there is just one sock.
I tried this one on her foot to make sure it fit before I knit the mate (I know, knitting socks one at a time, when did I start doing that?). I put this on her foot and she declared "It feels good.....I love it."
After checking the fit and determining that yes it fit well enough but still some room in the toes to grow I went to remove the sock.
In her haste to move her knit clad foot from the danger zone she kicked me in the chin.
"Don't take it off!" she scolded me, eyebrows furrowed together to emphasize her displeasure with me.
"You wanna wear it?"
"Yeah, but where's the other one"
*sigh* Must go knit the other one.
Monday, October 16, 2006
These cute hands in motion. With their shocking pink yarn.
Are these my hands?
Could be. They look like my hands, with their long sturdy fingers. But they're not. They're my hands in miniature.
They're Pork Chop's hands.
Yes, my baby has learned to knit. I couldn't be prouder. We just spent the afternoon knitting together. Oddly enough both projects were for her. Me on some socks, and Pork Chops on her pink scarf. It's a garter stitch scarf (all knit stitch) with 25 stitches to a row. Little perfectionist, she must have knit a dozen rows, but she wasn't happy until she knit a row with no mistakes in it. She's more like me than I care to admit sometimes.
It warmed my heart when she beamed at me and declared "I just love knitting together with you Mommy." Makes her recent attitude and whining pale in comparison to how much I love this kid.
I was touched by how many people were worried about her. The day of the move she cut her chin on some playground equipment. Poor baby had seven stitches. But they only had to stay in five days. Her Daddy already took them out and she's healing nicely. She won't have much of a scar if any. Pretty soon it will just be an interesting story to tell about our move.
Most go knit some more, she's whining at me.
Friday, October 13, 2006
I finally have my internet back!
I'm so happy. Connected once again to my loved ones.
In our old apartment I got cable the day I called. Around here it took a week and a half. *Shrug* It's here now. That's all that matters.
I'd like to say that moving day went well. That things could not have gone more perfect, smoother than I could have imagined. The best move ever. But that would be a lie. I'll just give you the highlights.
Good times people. Good freakin' times. Oh yeah, and we couldn't get it all on the truck, so a few things were left behind. Fortunately my yarn was one of the first things on the truck, so no worries.
The drive itself was not so bad. The day we left was beautiful, sunny and slightly warm.
There were times when having three children, a dog, and a cat in the car for 2,000 miles was every bit as terrible as I feared it would be. But over all not so bad.
Thank goodness for the in-car DVD player. When we bought it I was embarrassed to own it. I thought it was the ultimate in spoiled childhood. But I will never again say a word against it. It is my new best friend and I cherish it's small screen. Even the dog didn't complain too much.
2,000 miles and now it's sunny and warm. I hear it snowed yesterday in our old state. But I'm sitting here now in capris with the windows open, feeling the warm breeze. I'm starting to get a tan. And did I mention this is my bedroom view.
Who could complain?
I've been mostly unpacking and getting settled in, but there has been some knitting. I've got another sock war kill under my belt. My assassin has deserted and sent my info to her assassin. I now fear for my life and know my days are numbered. I hope to get one more kill in before my time comes.
But alas I have no knitting pictures. Maybe tomorrow.