I have said before that there are no yarn shops within an hour’s drive from my house. I found one that is 47 minutes away…..yay me ! “Cheers to Ewe” is in Huntersville, NC. A warm and inviting shop tucked away in a sprawling mall of many buildings, run today by Ladianne and Sarah. It was a beautiful day for a drive and a new adventure.
a sock class waiting to start…..New yarney friends, Wanda and Kathy………..Ladianne tallying up my treasures……….Kathy and Wanda, yarn and lunch…….who could ask for a better day ?
I guess I would have to say I’m sort of like Will Rogers……I’ve never met a knitter or quilter I didn’t like. To find new friends who have many things in common with you and enough differences to make it fun getting to know them.
And, I have to say, I got to fondle yarn……..Malabrigo and Madelyn Tosh yarns in person…..after seeing them on numerous knitting podcasts, it was like meeting celebrities. Cheers to Ewe has such a varied and luscious inventory……I just wanted to say “I’ll take one of everything”.
It might be a two thermos kind of day. Yesterday, during a bright, sunny morning, I got an email from a Plein Air group I belong to that meet on Fridays to scout the countryside for interesting places to paint. It was cancelling today’s meet-up because of heavy rains. Now, this was a beautiful, sunny day and they were cancelling the next day’s meet. Really ?
So, five AM this morning…..pouring rain…..absolutely beating the roof and all around….loud enough to wake me from a sound sleep…….and it kept up all morning and looks like it will be hanging around this afternoon, too. What Magic Ball does she have ?
The last time I was working at the museum, I got a call from a lady in desperate need of help with a pattern. Because we do not know each other, we decided to meet in the Rockwell Public Library. That was my first library in the region and I love the staff.
I met with her this morning and had a productive visit. She is a lovely older lady from this area. I helped her read her pattern and figure out her stitch count and gave her my tricks for dealing with repeated patterns, etc. She gave me a recipe for a knitted baby bib that is adorable. We hit it off quite well and I guess I am okay when she realized the librarians knew me by name. I hope we meet up again some time soon. It’s always nice to have a knitting buddy.
I finished ‘The Fix’ and have started on a book my cousin sent me. I had read “Just Mercy” by Bryan Stevenson last month for book club. “The Sun Does Shine” is about Anthony Ray Hinton, who spent 30 years on death row in Alabama for crimes he did not commit. Looks interesting already.
Time to curl up in the corner of my couch with a book and a cup of tea. It’s that kind of afternoon.
Have been crocheting and spending the afternoon with Ali from Little Drops of Wonderful….another Brit podcast…fancy that. She’s charming and chatty and a talented knitter. Look what the mail brought me this afternoon.
Of course, I saw them on The Grocery Girls Knit podcast and thought they would be helpful in my sock knitting, especially if someone just gives me a length of their foot, or I slap one up against the foot of a grandbaby.
Stomach has calmed down and I might try to eat something later. Going back to crocheting and listening to Ali.
Today is going to be one of ‘those’ days. It is a gloriously sunny day and will probably get warmer (35 degrees to 75 degrees yesterday), but I ate the wrong thing yesterday and am paying for it this morning. It’s definitely a day I will have to stick around the house. That’s as graphic as I’ll get.
Tree beside my driveway…..Spring has sprung in North Carolina………..
The VA Center called me to tell me my therapist called out sick this morning, also. I was going to talk to him about how I/we sabotage our own good intentions and shoot ourselves in the foot and deny ourselves the joy we deserve in our lives.
When my children were in grade school, I was very involved. I was in PTA, their sports, church and Sunday school. One night, when I was on my way to yet another meeting, my husband said ‘Why ?’ and I said, “FOR them” and he said, “but you’re never WITH them.” and I realized I had not been home at night for over two weeks because of all I was involved in. It made me stop and think seriously about my priorities. I think that was about the time I learned to say no with no apologies or excuses. “No….that doesn’t work for me”……that’s about as good an excuse as I gave.
I enjoyed being with my kids. I made a great folded airplane. We would fly them all over the neighborhood. Kids would come down the block to get them. One day a little boy knocked on our door and asked my husband if his daughter could come out and play, so Russ called Jennifer to the door and the kid said, “No, not her…..your BIG daughter.”……….still makes me laugh….Ah, an ADD diversionary tactic being pulled out of a hat.
Anyway, we overload our plates with outside projects and keep adding more on until we are mentally and emotionally exhausted and drained and then we don’t have enough space for US. Sometimes I don’t think I deserve the joy of just sitting. Or sitting and knitting or reading…that I should be doing something “important”, more productive.
We go on a diet, lose weight almost to our goal, and go on a binge. We sock money away for an important item and frivolously go on a shopping spree and get inane objects we would never look at. We make promises to ourselves and/or the important people in our lives and shelve them, forget them, trivialize them….but others do not.
This is what I did yesterday. Last year I was having wicked gall bladder problems and my doctors gave me the bum’s rush to get it taken out. Once the appointments and surgeries were scheduled I took a breath and stepped back. I researched online what that little organ actually does for your system. I talked to people who had had the surgery and how it is impacting their lives. It is not the ‘simple little operation’ that people make it up to be.
So, I talked to the surgeon and told him of my reservations and asked if I could change the problem with diet. He said to go for it, because once the surgery is done, it’s done. There is no going back. So, I went on the Keto Diet…simplified. I have allergies to grains and cutting out anything with processed flour really helped me. My mind seem to clear up and I was more focused. My joints stopped hurting. My heartburn went away immediately. And, over the last almost six months, I’ve lost 33 pounds. That was a nice unexpected sidebar to the whole business. The best thing, my gall bladder calmed down and I’ve had no problem. I have been pretty consistent….until the last two weeks.
Over the past two weeks I have had burgers and sandwiches here and there. Some french fries. (not supposed to eat potatoes). Fewer salads. Fewer green shakes. And this week I have had an ungodly craving for ice cream. So yesterday, instead of just going to get a cone or something, I bought a half gallon of Breyer’s Waffle Cone ice cream….and ate about a third of it. But I also bought chips and salsa. To die for….and this morning, I thought I was going to. I can only explain the stomach pain….PAIN….and heartburn by….I’m picturing how Krakatau or Kilauea looked at the worst of their eruptions, with huge lava floes coming down, enveloping everything.
I went through major holidays with no problem whatsoever. So why would I do that to myself now? Well, it will be awhile before I do it to myself again. The next time I think things are going along too well and I need a little drama in my life I’ll have to take a trip or something. I can take the housebound thing, but not the pain. Gonna go sit and knit or crochet and watch a podcast.
I’m crocheting a baby blanket for my grandson’s new baby. Isn’t that a great pattern ? Found it…..wait for it…..on Youtube.
Whoever invented “Wednesday” needed spell check. Who hasn’t said “Wed-nes-day” ? I remember when I was learning to read I thought “Language is so strange.”
My dad was a reporter, sports reporter, sports broadcaster, and then an editor for newspapers. He taught me to read when I was three. He would have me cut the large print headlines out of the paper….individual letters….and paste them onto paper to make words. He probably did it to keep me out of his hair whilst he was working on some project. My first efforts looked like really bad ransom notes. At times, I think he did me a great service and at others I think a disservice.
I was always bored in school because I could already do things. When I was seven, I read my first adult novel….”Tall in the Saddle”. I scared myself senseless when I read “Treasure Island” later that same year. I could not sit at breakfast without reading the cereal boxes. I cannot go a day without reading, if only for a few minutes before I nod off to sleep. I am as addicted to reading as I am knitting.
When each of us turned five years old, my mother would take us to the library to get our first library cards. It was a very important right of passage. She would hand it over and say “This is your passport to lands you will never visit and people you will never meet”.
I remember asking her and the librarian how many books could I take out and they both said, “As many as you can carry”. We lived across town and walked everywhere, so an armload of books was a difficult feat. The second time we went, I took my little red wagon and filled it up. I made many trips to the Huntington Library on Chestnut Street in Oneonta, NY. It’s still there.
In every place I have lived, the first place I find is the local library. Even when I was in the Navy, the first place I would find was the base library and the second was the local library. It was not the habit of the East Greenwich, RI, library to give library cards to naval personnel, but I got one. The librarian there helped me plot my college plan. I was accepted at Cornell College in Clinton, Iowa and planned to go on to the University of Minnesota or somewhere in that region for a Masters in Library Science. I eventually wanted to get back to Washington, DC, and work for the Library of Congress. Ah, but life has a way of fooling with your plans and your road goes in different directions. I did work as an assistant librarian at one time, so that part of the dream materialized.
I’m sittin’ and knittin’, waiting for a new circular needle to come in the mail. I broke the needle that the Quicksilver shawl was on and had to rip back the shawl a bit. I’m working on the Scatterby Socks, which is a free pattern on Ravelry. There is a multi-part Youtube video by Purl Together….if you ever wanted to try a toe-up sock….this is a perfect way to do it. I do two at a time/magic loop on separate needles….not two on the same needle. If I make a mistake, I do not want to tear back two socks to fix it.
Mine are done in the colorway “Pin Up” by Yarn Ink. I love their yarns. This was a pairing with Mrs. Brown’s Bags and I finally found the right recipe for the yarn.
Well, coffee is gone. Time to move on with my day.
Today was blood test day. I don’t eat breakfast, but when the words ‘fasting bloodtest’ begin my day…yeah, I want something. Took my crochet to the doctor’s office. Spent more time in the waiting room than being stabbed. Boom….outta there. Stopped by Koco Java’s for a caramel macchiato, extra shot and dropped by the museum to leave MT’s socks and tell them I’d be in to work in the library before my pastel class with them tonight. Love when everything is packed tightly together.
These are little mug rugs I crocheted for the ladies at work. Only one tea drinker.
When I got there, the street was blocked off by a hook and ladder fire truck and another in the parking lot on the other end of the building. Whoa !….but only a false alarm and they decided to use the opportunity as a ‘practice’ run. It reminded me of when I was a kid.
My best friend in the whole world (of a five year old that’s a pretty small circle) from across the street decided one day to walk over to Wilber Park together. This was back in the day when children were free range. We spied the huge black water tank and decided to climb up. We wandered around the walkway, admiring the view, seeing our houses and the park below us. When we decided we’d seen enough, we went to climb down. Neither of us could reach the ladder rungs going down. We were greatly surprised at this. We had had no trouble getting up. We hollered out, but there was no one in that end of the park to hear us. We sat there, huddled together, holding each other, and crying our eyes and lungs out for over three hours.
Finally, a park worker happened by, but he could not help us. He called the Oneonta Fire Dept and they sent a hook and ladder to rescue the two errant children. They took Christy down first and then came back for me. I was all over that poor man like a kitten scrambling up a tree. I gripped him so tightly around the neck, he had to unclasp my hands and tell me if I didn’t calm down we would both fall to the ground. Slowly, ever too slowly, he descended the ladder and placed me on the ground.
similar tank….didn’t seem that high when we were going up……..
By that time our parents had been summoned and we were whisked away to our homes for a change of clothes and a good talking to. We were not punished as much as admonished for our adventure. We were told we could never do that again…..like, fat chance of that happening. (ever notice how fat and slim chance mean the same thing ?) I am, to this day, afraid of heights….or more like afraid of falling. I have no problem flying, or being in an enclosed gondola, or even having something (a railing) that is at least waist high….but an open space ? If anyone ever tells you I committed suicide by jumping off a building, know that I was murdered, because that would NEVER happen. Climbing a tower is the primary reason I stopped wanting to be a Forest Ranger.
It was so bad that when I went into Navy boot camp we had to jump off a two story diving board into the pool to pass PT. I would climb the tower, walk out slowly onto the board, my life passing before my eyes, crouch down and back off the board. Finally my instructor told me if I didn’t do it, I would wash out of boot camp and be sent home. I asked if it mattered how I did it and she said no, as long as I did it. The next time, I crawled out to the end, closed my eyes, and tipped over off the board and fell into the pool. When I came up, both my company and our sister company were surrounding the pool clapping for me. I still sweat thinking about it.
Since I am in avoidance mode I thought I would tell you about GG.
Last May, someone dropped a box off at my daughter’s (the joys of living in the country) with six kittens about six weeks old and one slightly bigger kitten that looked about three months. She did not want to take them to the local kill shelter, but could not keep them as she had seven cats and three dogs already. She was giving them away like party favors. Since my cat had died the previous September, I took the oldest kitten. Now I know why God gives babies and kittens to young people.
Notice that “M” on her forehead ?
As I said, we thought she was about three months old, but the vet said no, more like six or seven months, but severely malnourished. I have been living on my own forever and have a crafty, painterly, yarney domain. She only saw a giant playroom. I was going to name her Pia or Pita, for pain in the….you get the picture, but decided to call her GG for Gorgeous Girl instead.
Notice what started about two weeks into January……
this was maybe in August 2018.Christmas Eve when she thought I needed a break from sewing….she was still a blonde………First week in January 2019….notice the shifting in her coat…..Second week in January……….This morning……. today…………
And her stripes continue to get darker and further up her body…..I have NEVER seen this happen before. My granddaughter said I got rid of her and got a new cat, that this couldn’t be the same cat that was left at their house. Oh, she’s the same cat….still thinks my house is her playroom and all belongings are hers………
I didn’t realize what an Anglophile I am…..many of the podcasts that I watch are by Brits of one ilk or another and I adore them. I know if I visited Britain and went around to where all my ancestors spent their time, I would come back to the States with a British accent. Especially if I was around Rosina (sp) of the Zeens&Roger podcast. Even though the Grocery Girls are Canadian….that’s like one step removed from British. Let’s see….there is Zeens&Roger, Lesley Arnold-Hopkins, Amy Florence, Kat from Heather and Hops, Angie B, Tea and Possibilities, The Wee Sew and Sew (Scottish), Mina Philips/the Knitting Expat…..and more, I’m sure…..especially Caroline of Dunderknits/Knitting Vicariously……she is a spicy, funny, sassy, sweary girl that I would recommend to MY friends…..love that girl.
I cuss. People think I cuss because I was in the Navy…..not so. Then they ask, “well, when did you start swearing if you didn’t in the Navy” and I tell them…..”when I had children”. Swearing does not offend me. Name calling/labeling and ignorance offends me, but not swearing. When I worked for Cirque, we had people from all around the world…..many of our performers were former Olympians and circus performers. We had Russians, Polish, Chinese, Brazilian, Argentinian, Mexican, British, Japanese, German, French, French-Canadian (it was/is a Canadian company), ….you get the picture. They all thought it was funny to teach me their cuss words. You just feel so worldly by being able to say “arsehole” in a dozen languages.
When you have anger issues, counting to ten doesn’t always work and doing bodily injury to someone is not polite….I do not look good in orange….so I cuss. Sometimes I walk away sounding like the father in “A Christmas Story”, or that cartoon dog that always says “ratzzle/fratzle”. When I was a kid I would say things that SOUNDED like swearing to me…..rutabaga was a favorite…..phenobarbital was another…..I didn’t know what it was, but it sounded nasty. Like Ralphie in ‘A Christmas Story”, I found myself seated in the bathroom with a cake of Lifebuoy or Ivory soap in my mouth more than once. It was usually more for my vocal intention than the actual words. I would whine to my mother “but I didn’t SAY anything” and she’d give me THE LOOK and say “but I know what you MEANT”. She was little, but she was mighty.
