“On My” for Wednesday

On my knitting needles:

Danny and I are knitting a sweater.  Sam is doing a great art course this semester, and Danny often borrows his books and materials.  Recently he was working on mixing colors, and presented me with this:

It’s the main color and contrasting colors for a sweater, with a charge of 75 cents for the design work.  I should have charged HIM for letting him help me dye the wool.  Or at least for cleaning up.

On my feet:

Brand new wool socks from my friend Moira.  You know how some days you just need something special to happen?  She just must have known I was going to have one of those days…. socks AND homemade chocolate fudge AND a wonderful, long encouraging letter. 

On my kitchen floor:

MORE wool.  For somebody’s Christmas sweater.  A big heap of leftovers and mill ends… not enough of all one color for a boring solid color cardigan, so perhaps some stripes?  Don’t worry, the recipient doesn’t read my blog .

On my front walk:

Bubbles.  George just hasn’t figured them out yet.  He can’t decide whether he likes them or not, but can’t help but be fascinated.

I think if he would somehow be convinced to wear his glasses, and he could see them better, he’d love them as much as the rest of us do.

But so far the only thing we’ve found that keeps them on is absolute undivided attention and holding both of his hands down continuously.  Oh well.   Danny thinks if we just EXPLAIN to him how important it is that he wear his glasses…..

On my MOM’s feet:

She got some clear Converse sneakers to wear over all her socks.  Are those totally cool or what?

On my stove:

A cooling pan from the very last of the many baskets of 10 dollars a bushel mountain apples from the farmer’s market.  This is probably a good thing, since the apple crisp recipe that we all love best (and have been eating pretty much daily) has SO much butter and SO much sugar….

On my kitchen table:

Heaps of freshly hand carded cormo fleece.  My family is patient with me… as long as there’s not fuzz in their food, they don’t seem to mind having to move wool out of the way to do their schoolwork .

On my mind and making me smile:

…. just one last picture of the sweetest boy…. did you know he’s almost two years old?  Sam just realized that he was going to be out of town on George’s birthday, and I actually thought for a few minutes that he was going to cancel his trip just so that he wouldn’t miss the celebration…  what a blessing those two sons of mine are to each other….  I know how lucky I am that all my children really like each other, but Sam and George have an exceptional bond, and it’s really a beautiful thing.  One of my boys once asked me if it bothered me that everybody else in the family liked George best, and not me   I think maybe it doesn’t bother me one bit.

 

Emily isn’t at All State Orchestra today.

No doubt this isn’t going to be the last time that my oldest child makes a different choice than I would have for her.

first, find some leftover sock yarn

A few weeks ago, she was looking for the phone.  She told me she needed to call her orchestra conductor to tell him that she wasn’t going to accept the offer she’d gotten to participate in All State Orchestra.

cast on about 60 stitches total on a few empty needles

I was astonished.  She hadn’t even tried out.  They just offered her a spot, and she turned it down.  All State.  And she’s only a 10th grader.

after a while, change to your regular yarn

She told her regular conductor that she had a schedule conflict.  Because she was on the tech crew for a play.  Huh?  Where did that come from?

knit lots of rows.... maybe 20. no purls. just knits.

“That’s OK with you, Mom?  Right?  If you say I have to do All State Orchestra I will, but I really want to do this play.  You’re not mad, are you?

after picking up the first purple row, fold it all in half

Where did this theater thing come from?  Totally from left field, as far as I knew.  I’d heard that the director was homeschool-friendly, but otherwise I was oblivious.  And I wasn’t prepared to decide what was best for my daughter when I felt so clueless. 

knit the next row like a 3 needle bind off, but don't bind off

So she called the orchestra director and turned down the All State spot.  I resolved to try to be supportive.  Confused, but supportive.

change from purple to orange when you get bored

I’m much more comfortable with being closely surrounded by my children, and knowing ahead of time what they think and plan to do.   Did I miss some clues with Emily?  She said not, she was just already doing so much music and orchestra and she wanted to spend more time with some friends who were involved with theater. 

peek at all the loose ends inside. briefly

When I’m out of my comfort zone, or when I really need to focus my prayer attention on someone in particular, the combination of knitting and the Rosary helps me on many levels.  My children call the products of this part of my prayer life “Rosary Socks”

kitchener the toes

Emily knows more people than anybody else I know, and she tells me that none of her friends’ moms knit them Rosary socks.  She admits, however, that part of the reason is that none of her friends’ moms knit them any sort of socks…

hang out in bed and weave in ends when toddler is napping

So Emily has not been at All State Orchestra this week, and she is not having a concert today.  She is helping put on a play instead.   Perhaps I’m not quite ready for such autonomy.  But at least I can be confident that she’s going forth into the world thoroughly covered – literally and figuratively – in prayer.

Emily's new socks, on the way out into the world

 

Playing outside this afternoon

This afternoon the fedex truck brought me a present from Ruddy the Cormo Sheep !!  Her fleece arrived today, and I was ready and waiting.  Most of the time, when an unprocessed intact fleece arrives at the door, it’s sensible to open it up outside.

Sheep live outdoors, you know, and also there are generally parts of some fleeces that really need to stay outdoors.

Except maybe this one.  When shepherds and shearers and their friends shear their sheep, they “skirt” the fleece before they bundle it up.  Skirting usually means that they pull off the worst of the gross parts. 

You saw from the photo of Ruddy a few days ago that she is a coat-wearing sheep, but that only keeps part of her fleece clean.   Well, it was obvious as soon as I unrolled the fleece onto an old sheet on my front lawn that Ruddy only shared the very most immaculate parts of her wool with me   It was so perfect that I could have sorted it in my kitchen.

So I sat on the grass and chose out a pound or so of the longest, most perfect locks.   I really was only going to sort out a couple of ounces, and then put my lymphedema wrappings back on, and do the rest a little at a time over the next few weeks.  But it was so nice outside, sitting in the grass, and Ruddy’s fleece is such amazingly fine quality that it really wasn’t work….. and besides, once all the big school-school kids on our street and the little kids and Monique the nurse and the neighbors and Chris the mailman and the guy who came to fix the furnace got involved, it’s not like I could just pack it up and put it away, you know?

One beautiful November afternoon, one perfect Cormo fleece, one tub of locks ready to scour and comb…. and there’s still five pounds of “playing outside with my wool” left for another day.

In anticipation of the arrival of fleece:

Here is a photo of the Cormo sheep whose beautiful soft wool is on its way to my house.

I’ve been asked exactly what I plan to do with this one particular fleece, given that my time and energy are limited, and my left arm is bandaged from fingertips to armpit about 23 hours a day.

My favorite answer:  Guess it’s good I’m only buying one fleece this fall.   (whole fleece, that is…. I would buy a whole Bowmont fleece too if I could, but that’s not possible… long story)

The first thing I’m going to do with it, after opening it all up to take a photo of and show you, is scour 6 ounces or so of perfect locks to comb for worsted spinning… I’m entering a contest and time is short.   The rest of the fleece can just wait for me for a while…. as soon as we get my lungs and my lymphedema better I should have more time and energy to play with wool.

Speaking of playing, we all played hard at the St. Ann’s carnival.  Then some crazy people (not me ) topped that off by going trick or treating in the rain.  As soon as Sam’s done with his schoolwork I’ll have him resize the photos for you.   And don’t worry, nobody dressed up as a sheep.

Phone conversation with my husband

Dixon:  “Hi, honey, what have you guys been doing this morning?”

Me:  “I took the kids to the farmer’s market.  For pumpkins.”

Dixon:  “And you had that nerve block yesterday?  So now you’re hurting and grouchy.  Great idea!”

Me:  “Yes, but the kids needed pumpkins, and you know how George is pulling up to stand on things?  I thought a picture of him standing up holding onto a BIG pumpkin would be fun.”

Dixon:  “So did you get the picture you wanted? ”

Me:  “Uh, no.  He didn’t want to stand up.  But we got lots of pumpkins”

Dixon:  “And now you’re hurting and cranky.  Are the kids being good?  How’s your shortness of breath?”

Me:  “OK, so I’m hurting and cranky.  Sorry.  But the kids are being great.  I’m awfully tired of being short of breath though.”

Dixon:  “I know it’s hard to be short of breath.  I’m sorry.  Did the pulmonologist call yet?”

Me:  “They did.  First thing Monday morning I’m having lung function testing and then seeing the doctor at 9:30″

Dixon:  “And where do we stand with the other specialists?”

Me:  “It’s hard to keep track.  There’s too many of them.”

Dixon:  “But you see the rheumatologist Tuesday morning?  And he says to do all those steroids like the radiation oncologist says?

Me:  “Yes.  I really don’t like the steroids.  They make me irritable and make it hard to sleep.”

Dixon:  “I know, I’m sorry.  Maybe you shouldn’t have done so much today.”

Me:  “And to top it all off, instead of getting a perfect picture of George standing up holding on to a huge pumpkin, he just decided to get all muddy.  Humph.”

Dixon:  “But was it worth it?  Sounds like everyone had fun anyway.  Maybe I can get home early tonight so that you can get some more rest.  Save your energy for the carnival.”

Me:  “More like save my energy for the laundry.  But you can come home early and help me with that if you want .”

 

There is a cormo fleece coming to NC

Not with a sheep inside it.  Just the fleece.  Photos soon, I just didn’t want people to keep worrying about it.

Meanwhile, I saw the radiation oncologist this morning.  I am going to let the oncologists, the pulmonologist and the rheumatologist battle it out about how best to treat my disease in my lungs, and just do what they tell me when they arrive at some sort of consensus.  I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything to tell you, I promise.   My personal goal would be for them (the specialists) to decide together what to do even before my fleece gets here from California.  It can be a race  

Also, I see the pain guy tomorrow.  Or the “un-pain” guy.  I forgot exactly what it was we decided to call him.   I’m not sure if I can have another steroid epidural or anything, though, since I’m already on BIG doses of oral steroids for my lungs… one of the specialists is supposed to decide this afternoon… we’ll see.

Gotta go.  George woke up from an unfortunately short nap. 

Love, Elizabeth

Why my parents are here:

My mom and dad drove down from Michigan, just for the weekend.  You see, I’ve not been feeling so well lately – I’ve been hurting lots and been really short of breath from radiation pneumonitis, which is a long story for another day.  But anyway, I told them that as much as I’d been looking forward to going to the Southeast Animal Fiber Fair  , especially since I had to miss it last year because of chemotherapy, I just didn’t think I was strong enough to drive to Asheville, walk around and see all the animals, fleeces and vendors, chat with my friends, and then drive home.  What would I do if I got there and didn’t feel well enough to drive back safely?

So my parents drove here and took Emily, Danny, George and me on our adventure.

Everybody had their favorite parts.  I think I spent most of my time looking at fleeces in the competitions and for sale.  There was a perfect, superfine cormo fleece that was calling my name   Perhaps it was good that the car was so far away, or I would have bought it.  Of course today I really regret not getting it… 4.5 inch staple length, clean, clean, clean, and the prettiest crimp.  And did I tell you it was soft?  It was amazingly soft.    

George liked his fleeces on the sheep   They were right at his eye level, and stayed very still so he could look at them carefully. 

Danny brought his research notebook along.  Papa took him through the barns in his violetmobile so that he could learn about each kind of animal there.

Emily is more drawn to colors than textures… I would have thought that since she’s a visually impaired person it wouldn’t be so, but in contemplating this yesterday and today, maybe it makes sense that she’s attracted to the brighter colors and higher levels of contrast.

See the green shawl on the right side of the photo above?  She liked it best of the ones we saw, so we bought the pattern.  But we’ll knit it from handspun… if only I’d gotten that cormo fleece .

Dixon was relieved that we didn’t buy ANY animals.  Sheep would be the most practical, of course, but can’t you just imagine a few alpacas grazing in our back yard?

But back to the colors:  They were probably even nicer on the trees than on the wool.  It’s perhaps another week or two before the peak of the leaf season, but it sure was nice to be up in the mountains on a Saturday in October.

My parents both have to get back to work, so they’re leaving right after chess club this today.  I hope they realize how grateful I am that they came all this way just to give me the gift of a special afternoon.

Violin lessons are not boring

At least not when they’re Danny’s lesson.

(photo above from Suzuki Institute two years ago )

Perhaps you remember Jessica, my kids’ violin teacher. 

Here’s her blog – go see the gorgeous photos of her kids and then come right back.

So anyway, in case you didn’t go see her blog, Jessica is pregnant with a beautiful little boy.  Danny, Jessica and I were in her studio for his lesson when he asked her,

“Miss Jessica, do you have another new baby in your tummy?”

Jessica:  “Yes, Danny, I do.  Now, it’s a C sharp,  so B, C sharp, D.

Danny:  “How do the babies come out of your tummy?”

Me:  “Danny, we’ll talk about that later.  Now it’s time for violin.”

Danny:  “They don’t have to cut them out, do they?”

Jessica and I, relieved to have an easy out, in unison:  “Yes!  Baby Kathryn (Jessica’s second child) came out that way!”   Then Jessica tried to redirect… “Danny, let’s start back with a down bow, B, C sharp, D”

Danny:  “Do they always have to cut the babies out?  Did they cut George out?”

Me:  “No, but we can talk about that later.”

Jessica (in a futile attempt to save the lesson) : “Danny, let’s start over.  A, B, C sharp, D….”

Danny:  “Mom, do you remember how George got out of your tummy?”

Me:  “Gosh, I guess not.  We’ll have to ask Daddy.  LATER.”

Danny:  “Well, Mom, having babies is very important.  You really should have been paying attention when they got born.”

Special Beatitudes

Blessed are you who take time to listen to difficult speech:
For you help us to know that if we persevere,
We can be understood. 

Blessed are you who walk with us in public places,
And ignore the stares of strangers,
For in your companionship,
We find havens of peace.

Blessed are you who never bid us to “hurry up”,
And more blessed are you
Who do not snatch tasks from our hands to do them for us,
For often we need time rather than help.

Blessed are you who stand beside us
As we enter new and untried ventures,
For our failures will be outweighed
By the times we surprise ourselves and you.

Blessed are you who ask for our help,
For our greatest need is to be needed.

Blessed are you when you assure us,
That the one thing that makes us individuals
Is not in our peculiar muscles,
Nor in our wounded nervous systems,
Nor in our difficulties in learning,
Nor any exterior difference.
But is in our inner, personal, individual self
Which no infirmity can diminish or erase.

Author Unknown (from Mommylife)

 

Hey Esther! I finished your socks!

I assume everybody who reads the comments knows Esther.  Esther knits mittens like I knit socks.  The big difference is that most of my socks go to my family and friends, but she mostly gives her mittens to poor schoolchildren and homeless people with cold hands up in Rhode Island where she lives…

Many months ago we made a plan.  Between the two of us, out of 8 balls of Mini Mochi, we’d make 4 mittens and 4 socks.  Then we’d each have a pair of each.  Of course the mittens she made for me have been here for months, and I just finished her socks today.

Poor Betsy.  I’ve been working on her socks (rather boring taupe cashmere) for ages, and they keep getting put aside for other things… but the current distraction is Flusi socks for her very own # 4 child, Rom, so perhaps she won’t mind another delay.

In celebration of their 60th anniversary of making special sock yarn, the Regia folks got authorization to reprint a darling children’s book about socks, and they’re selling six colors of sock yarn to match the socks in the book.

Danny tells me that it’s obvious that a pair of socks from Flusi yarn need to be made from two different colorways.  When one little boy gives an old mama advice about socks for another little boy, it would take a really good reason to ignore it.  Therefore Rom is getting a rather odd “pair” of socks.

So Betsy, Rom’s socks are done to the heels…. I need his foot length to finish them.  I guess I might knit a few more rows on your socks meanwhile… until something ELSE distracts me.