It Starts So Simply

Take Mr. W, for example. The man just wanted a nap. He come home from a hard day at the salt mines (nuclear plant, same thing) and just wants a little rest.

The boys miss their Daddy when he's gone all day, so they hop up for a snuggle. It's all sweet and happy and innocent.

But then it starts to change.

And before you know it there's a totally out-of-control melee in the middle of the bed, and poor Mr. W's nap has turned into a fit of grins and giggles as the boys completely lose it.

A free for all. All we really needed was the cat to make it complete, but he seemed to want nothing to do with the insanity.

Before you know it, they've worn themselves out, and it's back to normal - cuddle bug Bradley and aloof cat-like Yoshi on alert at the foot of the bed, watching out the window for squirrels and birds - lest they disturb daddy's peace and quiet, perhaps?

It's been that way with the kitchen project, too. 

One small thing starts off an avalanche of changes; some good, some bad, and all happening regardless of whatever brilliant plans we might have had in the beginning. And that's okay by me. God has a plan. I probably should have fewer, since His seem to work out better than mine. 

We've been here before, and it will all work out, and in the end it will be amazing. In fact, it's looking like it's going to be even MORE amazing than we'd anticipated! See, yet another reason why I should just stop making all these grand plans! I will miss these guys, my knotty pine pets. But it will be worth it in the end - you'll see!

I've been knitting a bit in my spare moments - those moments not consumed with kitchen design and swimming and dogs and planning my next book (What?!? Another book? Yes! Another book, but not for a year and a half, so no point in getting too excited just now!). A while ago we had an announcement of a most delightful nature presented to us in the most enjoyable way. In a kitchen full of people I love, just hanging out together and enjoying each other's company, I was handed an envelope and asked to open it and - if I could find the time - maybe make "some things" for the folks who handed me the envelope. "We don't need them right away - but in a few months..." they said. 

Can you guess what it might be, other than "stuff on my cat"? I'll give you a hint. The item on that cat is made from this pattern. (I used Northampton Bulky, if you're curious - one of my favorites, lots of good colors for this project, and snuggly warm to boot) And when I am done with this little project, I need to knit one of these - or maybe two, in case one gets lost? As Kathy pointed out, lost things of this nature can be catastrophic if there's attachment. So two of those, don't you agree? But identical to one another, just in case.

Today I got a special box from Meyer Hatchery. Seven little boys, all soft and fat and warm.

 

(browninsh Buff Brahmas, yellow Delawares and one big question mark in back)

Loud little peeping poop machines, really, but they are lovely to behold when tiny and wee. One is a bit of a non-performer and I don't think he will last the day. But that's par for the course, and I am not deterred. By fall I will be able to add roosters to my flock, and that makes me VERY happy!

I am so excited about the future and about life right now; watching things unfold and grow and happen around us and in front of us and to us. It's a pretty wonderful world, really! 

A Recipe for Nothing Like Disaster

I've been trying to focus on designing and I am totally hung up on one pattern, so I am taking a mental health morning - and I guess that means I can blog! I recently finished this Elise Shawl.

I LOVE it. I added dagger beads along the edge because 1.) I had them and 2.) I love sparkly things. It was a fast crochet experience, blocked out beautifully, and even Yoshi approves.

Maybe a little too much on the Yoshi approval there...

Six year old me wishes I was my own grandma.

These are heading for Texas soon for Grandbaby April who is no longer any kind of a baby, but I still call her baby. I will have to work on giving that up soon, I think.

This past weekend was Father’s Day. It’s also shortly before Mr. W’s birthday, so it seemed a good time to gather the three local children around, with spouses, and celebrate the man. There was, as sometimes happens on these occasions, a fair amount of beer and wine. When it was all over, as I struggled to recover from being bitten by the wine bug, I concocted a really yummy seafood stew that I just have to share with you. Regardless of the brilliance of the stew, it’s a really good thing these sorts of events only happen a couple of times a year. Nothing slaps you in the gracefully maturing face like a long night.

Now, in order to properly prepare this recipe, you'd ideally have a clambake of sorts in your back yard, and get tanked with your adult kids. If you need to skip that step, I understand. The clambake part could probably also be avoided, but in case you want to indulge I am including that "recipe" too. For the clambake we used a combination of Martha Stewart and Ina Garten’s “Stovetop Clambake” recipes and came up with a fitting compromise, outlined below.

In the bottom of my big enamel canner we put three big Spanish onions, quartered. I set the canner rack on top of the onions and lined this with a large piece of cheesecloth – big enough so that the four corners of the fabric extend out of the pot and hang over a good bit. Next we added, in order, 1 ½ lb of small red potatoes (about 2 inches each), 1 lb of Andouille sausage (four links), 5 ears of corn (husked and cut in half), 4 pounds of steamers (scrubbed and rinsed) and 2 pounds of mussels (de-bearded and washed well). On top of this we placed 4 quarter lobsters. Quarters weigh between 1.25 and 1.5 pounds. We then poured a large (24 ounce) can of Rolling Rock (yes, Rolling Rock. Save the BBC for a glass, thank you very much) beer over all, and a second beer can of water for good measure. The cheesecloth was then tied twice on the diagonal, corner to corner, over everything to make it easier to retrieve the good stuff once steaming was complete. The canner was put on the side burner of our gas grill, which was set on high.

Unfortunately we lost track of time – I think it was the sangria - and our intended half an hour steam turned into something more closely resembling an hour. I don't recommend this step. Stick with the half hour. Set a timer. Anything. My rule is that when the lobster is red and the clams are open, it's all done. I am sure some official warning someplace says something different, but this is how I roll. We removed the neatly bundled shellfish and vegetables from the pot (the cheesecloth thing worked brilliantly) and dumped them into my big roasting pan. I squeezed two lemons over the whole mess. The broth from the clambake was strained into bowls, and a pan of melted butter was set out. On a platter to the side was a pair of very large, perfectly prepared (by stepson #2) sirloin steaks, my generous nod to Mr. W's birthday. I don't cook beef any more if I can avoid it. We all gathered, standing, around an eight foot banquet table, hacking into shellfish with various and yet entirely appropriate tools, and everyone ate until they were stuffed. There were leftovers. No matter how I fuss and plan, and think I am going to run short, there are always leftovers. The leftovers went into the fridge, and strawberry shortcake (the kind you eat, not the cartoon one) came out, followed by a not insignificant quantity of further imbibed cheer. I think the party drew to a close around 1:30am. I say “I think” because, well, I frankly wasn’t doing a lot of thinking by then. We all went to bed.

I woke up at around 5 am, definitely the worse for our evening’s debauch. As I lay there in my discomfort, I alternately contemplated my age vis a vis my stamina (is that the right word for 'complete inability to party anymore'?), and wondered what I could do with the leftovers. It came to me that a rich, beer-based, flavorful stew would hit the spot just right, if I could remain vertical long enough to prepare it. Not wanting to disturb the other members of my family - who were still recovering their feet - I slept (if you can call it that) until around 8. After I’d made breakfast for the stragglers, and everyone had headed off to their proper homes, and Mr. W. and I agreed that we are really much too old for this kind of behavior, I started the stew. It’s pretty amazing, and it definitely hit the spot at lunch time – and for a couple of days after! I even took some to my father and stepmother and they both expressed approval. So here I present to you this charming recipe, but only on condition that you follow the rules, including the above celebration of excess (with or without adult children), in order to make it.

Hair of the Dog Seafood Stew

Leftovers from the night before (or new if you're wimping out on the party part):

1 cup BBC Lost Sailor IPA, the dregs of a growler (feel free to substitute your own beer selection)

1 cup corn (previously steamed and stripped from ears)

2-3 small cooked red potatoes, cubed

3-4 ounces leftover lobster meat, chopped roughly

6-8 ounces leftover mixed clams and mussels, chopped roughly

4 ounces andouille sausage, chopped roughly

New stuff the morning after:

1 Tablespoon olive oil

2 carrots, chopped

1 red onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic

2 teaspoons salt-free Creole seasoning; we like Tony Chachere's (if salt is allowed in your house, feel free to use the regular kind)

1 - 6 oz. can tomato paste

1 - 15 oz. can diced tomatoes 

1 - 15 oz. can stewed tomatoes (I used my own pints of canned tomatoes for these)

2 cups water

1 - 15 oz. can seafood stock

Prepare all leftover steamed seafood and vegetable from the previous evening’s clam bake. Chop potato and seafood and sausage, and remove corn from cob. Set aside in a bowl.

Chop onion and carrot. Add oil to 6 quart stock pot and set on high. When the oil is hot, add the carrot and onion and stir. Allow to cook down for a minute or so before reducing heat to avoid burning. Let sweat for a few minutes, and chop the garlic while you wait. Add garlic and sauté until garlic begins to change color and the onions are translucent. Add Cajun seasoning and stir all well.  Add beer and let reduce for 1-2 minutes.

Add seafood stock, tomatoes, water and tomato paste all at once. Bring back to a low boil. Reduce heat to simmer. Allow to simmer for 15 minutes, then add the leftover seafood and vegetables. When the leftovers are hot, the soup is ready! 

In fact, it was SO ready that before I could take a picture of it to show you it was all gone. Made me want to go buy a ton of expensive shellfish and start all over again. But maybe next year...

We'll See

Most of the time when I sit down to write lately I end up talking about things that most people really don't want to hear about.

So today, since Jenn Kinzel of the Woolie Ewe says she misses me, I will post what I've done lately, and try not to be all "Oh, poor motherless me". It's a stretch. My birthday is coming up. Last night I had a dream that my mother asked for her summer clothes, and when I told her she was dead she said "Well. I changed my mind about that. Bring me my shorts..." and proceeded to go into a very detailed list of which shorts and which tops (including the one that I bought that was "...not exactly right, but would do"). If you knew her, you'd know that this conversation could very easily occur, exactly as stated above. "Oh. Well. I changed my mind about that."

But I digress...

Lots of what I have done lately is kind of crazy, really. Not a lot of design, that's for sure. I made a tiny quilt, which I decided I hated and promptly gave to Yoshi, who loves it.

I went on a doll clothing spree. Crocheted hat and sweater...

Knitted a dress...

Vest and top...

Mostly American Girl stuff (or in this case Madison from the Springfield Company who did not cost $100) but some baby doll as well. They're not all pictured here lest you think my cheese has truly slipped from my cracker.

And a crochet spree - hat, mittens, and a square from the scraps (??? No clue, but there it is. A square.)

Oh, and I stitched a London pigeon.

And then a dragon for Lillian at New Fortune, since this IS the Year of the Dragon after all, and my Dragon daughter is marrying a Dragon guy in the year of the Dragon, so I feel attached.

I went to Vogue Knitting Live! in New York, and had a ball. I went up to the marketplace only very briefly to see Ron and Theresa Miskin of The Buffalo Wool Co. (formerly Buffalo Gold). I just visited them for a bit. Big groups and moving crowds just were not where my head was at right then and I give myself permission to hide if I think I need to. Things moved really fast here between November and now, and it will take me a while to recover, and that's ok. But again, I digress. Anyway, Ron gave me some yarn, which I fell madly in love with. it's called Sexy, and was hand dyed by the folks at Koigu. And it is SO beautiful! I immediately designed a shawl,

 that sort of has become a wide scarf, and I knitted half of it, and I wrote it all down, and I even named it!

And I was totally on a roll, designing something! First thing "since"! And then... And then I got project ADD. So I knitted these baby pants, and then they needed a sweater to go with, so I started that and....

Most of the time I think I need a sample knitter. Just a simple slave, willing to knit for the sheer joy of it.

I have also been very busy with Girl's wedding preparation things. Now, the wedding is not till fall, so you'd think I had scads of time. The truth is that the "best" venues and ceremony locations get snapped up pretty quickly, and things cost much more than I expected or remembered. As a result we are doing a lot of things on our own. Whoever it was at Vogue 2011 who mentioned the Off-Beat Bride website? You are my hero. This wedding is so DIY it's not even funny. Or at least right now, to me, with DIY wedding things covered half of the surfaces in my house, it doesn't feel very funny. No pictures yet, but I promise a big report after the fete. We must give Girl her privacy... to a point!

So that's it for me for now. Except this - Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and you know what looks great tied around a gift box, or draped around the neck, or a Shiba Inu? Birthday Girl, a crocheted flower chain available in my Ravelry shop for the low, low price of $1 (Shiba not included)!

Somedays it Just Feels Like Oy Vey.

Yesterday was, I think, an Oy Vey kind of a day. It started at 1:00AM. Maybe I should even back up a little from there...

First the pictures for those socks are not working well at all. I need a photographer or more feet or both. Seriously. The pattern is totally done. This is most annoying.

Second, there's a lot of proofing here. Proofing in the morning, proofing in the evening, proofing at suppertime. I read some, I mark, I take a break. I go back and I read more. It is important not to push myself when I get annoyed or bored because then I will miss things. And we don't want that, now, do we?

Third, my mother had not been well over the weekend. We went to a birthday party for April on Saturday and it was obvious right away that something wasn't right. She was complaining of some chest pain that seemed to her to be much worse than usual. She didn't want to go to the hospital. Then my dad needed a pretty straight forward procedure on Tuesday, but sometimes the way things work around here drama comes in clusters, so I was a little on edge. Once I spoke with my mother again and confirmed that she felt much better, and Yoshi and I visited her to make sure, AND we had a call from Dad saying he felt fine Tuesday afternoon, I relaxed a little.

I even cast on a Tomten (scroll down, it's there) in this pink yarn I have in stash - not with any baby in mind, just part of my new Use Your Stash movement. I haven't made it very far yet. More will be revealed. Anyway...

Once I confirmed that everyone was well I breathed a big sigh of relief and got back to the grind of proofing this book so that everyone can have a copy, eventually.

A lot of proofing has taken place. There's been a lot of reading and scrawling in margins and marking with green highlighter, some emails back and forth with publisher and tech editor, but I feel like we're really winding down here and there really will be a book - and soon. It feels good.

I went to sleep Tuesday night with peace in my heart. Peace and love and contentment.

And then the phone rang at 1:00AM Wednesday morning (or Tuesday night, depending on your perspective). You know that foggy haze that you are in when you're awakened from a deep (Benadryl induced to compensate for the end-of-book insomnia...) sleep? When you are on auto pilot and answering with one syllable words and occasionally grunts? That was me. I could hear my son, Private Dan. I could hear what I thought was his wife in the background (it was). He sounded distressed. She sounded distressed. He was asking for advice at 1:00AM, which cannot be a good thing.

This is a good life lesson for anyone reading this, not just for Daniel. When you book any kind of transportation, especially if you are using a discount provider, be very, very, very certain to double, triple, QUADRUPLE check your dates before you check out. Check again, I mean really check. Get a hard copy of a current calender, check the date on your phone and computer, check the date you're booking for, and then check them all again. And even again.

Otherwise, you will find yourself on the phone to your mommy at 1:00AM asking for advice about how to get to Texas within just under 24 hours when you're in Massachusetts, and that cheap non-refundable plane ticket you bought last week turns out to be for MARCH 23, not FEBRUARY 23. Oh, and you need to be on base today. Which as it turns out IS February 23rd. This thing about calling your mommy? It is not a threat. It is a promise.

Once the details and the rather critical nature of this situation crept into my brain I sprang into something like action (there may have been stumbling). I grabbed my Amex and my pc and started surfing. Find a flight, I thought. Anything. Just get the soldier to the base before he's AWOL. Not the best way to begin your life as a soldier, now that Basic and AIT are done. "Oh, hey, I thought I'd just be, you know, late. That's ok, right, Army Dudes?" Not.

I found a flight, or really a series of four flights that began in Hartford and ended in El Paso, TX at 11:55PM on February 23rd. The fact that he's be in five major airports and on four airplanes in 18 hours, with lots of layovers really didn't matter. All that mattered was cheapest, fastest way there. Indirect is fine. Just GET there.

Drama. We HAZ it.

I spent most of yesterday not doing much of anything. I was exhausted. After bailing the kid out I spent about 4 hours ruminating on the whole situation, falling asleep just in time for the alarm to go off in the morning. Wait, did I say morning? That wasn't morning. 1:00 AM, now THAT is morning, my friends.

I did let Yoshi blog yesterday about responsible dog ownership, which is in my opinion the best piece he's written so far, and a vitally important one at that. The doggy in the window is so charming and cute. People rush in, buy, fall in love with and live with regret when they don't get what they expected. Shelters are stuffed to the gills with dogs who could tell you all kinds of stories. It's a topic that is near and dear to our hearts.

This brings us to today, which is Thursday. Tomorrow, Friday, is supposed to be egg day. Snow is predicted. I do not drive in snow. If it falls, I do not drive. The bad news is I will have a lot of eggs. The good - I can move on with proofing and get it done and in the mail on time, I just have to finish up and drive a half an hour to the nearest staffed FedEx location. God I love this valley.

Tomorrow I am going to cast on and begin knitting something with Artyarns Cashmere Glitter. Stay tuned... you're going to want to squash your face in this one!

Gratuitous Puppy Shot:

Because nothing can possibly be cuter than Yoshi in an orange raincoat!

Bewildered and Bemused, For Now

It's pretty typical of me to skip the New Years blog entry thing. I know a lot of people do it. But then I am contrary in general so it's not a surprise really that I resist resolutions and recaps.
We did go out for New Years' Eve this year, for the first time ever. We went to First Night Northampton which was, frankly, a total, utter bust. But we had good company -

Newlyweds (how long can we call them that?) Brendon and Selina and their adopted and troublesome Balloon Baby. Brendon does not like Balloon Baby. I am not sure if it was the baby part, or the part where it just was not behaving well at times.

We had a good time with them in spite of the lame (sorry Northampton, but really. Lame. Sad and lame.) First Night "celebration". I think I was expecting more - maybe some shops open, maybe some street vendors selling cocoa and street food; that sort of thing. We are told that Boston is better. Maybe next year. We came home early, which was fine with me. At least I got to stay awake until midnight - 2 am actually. Someone had to keep an eye on these two.

Brendon and Meg and Gene and I played Mario Party 8 on the Wii. Selina went to sleep, although how she slept through these two and their, shall we say, 'youthful celebrating', I don't know. Brendon tried to find the ball drop on the laptop. Gene and I kissed in the New Year while watching him surf for it. I also beat everyone at Mario Party, which should give you an idea of just how celebratory they were. The next morning there were some long faces, and I don't think it was losing the game that did it to them. Ahh, youth!
Meg was given (yes, GIVEN!) a Majacraft Susie Pro yesterday. I brought it home for her and really felt that, as her mother, it was my moral obligation to oil it up and - of course - take it for a test drive. It's a tough job, taking bullets like this for my kids, but that's what motherhood is al about. I'd love to convince her that it's too much wheel for her, buy myself a pound of something awesome, and spin the rest of winter away. I have always been an Ashford girl, but I feel my head being turned by this wheel. We have a "no new wheel" policy in effect here, and technically this one coming in means one should leave. So far gene hasn't noticed, so maybe we're safe.

It spins like a dream. A little rattly and loud which I think is the platic bobbins, but that's more than compensated for by the smoothness and the wide ratios. A little oil here and there and it quieted down some. I may be in love. There may be jealousy. But I will get over it, in time!
I've been trying to work on this sweater in my spare time. This is Gene's Dale sweater that I started...oh...a little while ago. The yarn is Dale of Norway Hauk which I am not loving. I am finding that it is biasing in stockinette, overspun out of the skein, which is frustrating. Maybe I just got a bad bag, but there it is. In fact, the Jo Sharp DK Wool I am using for the contrast? I wish the whole sweater was made of it.

This sweater has a story, but it's a pretty embarrassing one. Once upon a time in a December past we were at Epcot Center at Disney World in the Norway pavilion. Norway has this really silly but essential ride called Maelstrom (there are trolls, waterfalls, and a movie called "Spirit of Norway" that I always sit through. I also always cry when the kid touches the boat. If you have been, you know what I mean, and I bet you sniffle, too). After the movie you are dumped into a string of little shops featuring noxious Norwegian perfumes, delicious Norwegian candy, Dale of Norway Learn to Knit kits, and a large selection of Helly Hansen and Dale of Norway garments. Gene pointed at a black men's henley and said "I like that. I'd wear that." He didn't say "Will you knit that for me?". He didn't have to.
I bought the yarn after Christmas that year, and I cast on. Ten or twelve inches into the body something didn't seem quite right (can you say "gauge"?). And I didn't like the yarn I'd chosen. (Classic Elite Wings - it just did not have the rugged stability I wanted for this garment). Back to Webs I went in search of a new yarn - the Wings was ripped out and eventually knit into something completely different. What December, you ask? Well. The notes here indicate that I cast on in this year:

I bought the yarn in January. Which means he saw the sweater in December 2004. Which is embarrassing given that this is 2011, and I knit "for a living" so to speak. And the sweater is still not done. In fact, up until a couple of weeks ago it was just a lower body. Today it has a finished back and the beginnings of a front. If I had a resolution for the new year, this would be it: finish the Dale sweater by February 2nd. Of THIS year.
As you can see, there's been some frustration along the way. The thing has languished in it's own basket with it's pattern and pen and yarn labels and such since 2005. In an attempt to end the bad juju I made some changes.

First, it has a Lexie Barnes bag of it's own. Second, it is next to my chair and may not move until it's blocked. Third, I got a different color pen. And fourth? I actually pick it up and knit on it once in a while. There's hope. But then... but then this arrived in my mail box and now I have a problem. Not only am I distracted from work and knitting only things I want to knit without any sort of guilt or shame, now there's cashmere and silk in my house, in my line of vision, and al of a sudden "Poor Gene" and his "poor sweater" seem pale and not worthy of my energy.

Throw a little Spirit Trail Neith in the colorway Brown Eyed Girl and I am just all kinds of distracted. What could it be... something just for me, after all, since my eyes are brown...
Last week Army Boy married Army Fiancee (now Army Wife) in a typically hasty civil ceremony arranged on nearly the last day of his Christmas leave. Paperwork was filed and the words spoken over them by the best optometrist (six years running) in Brattleboro, Vermont, Dr. Peter Duff. In a few short weeks he went from unemployed single father to married man with a career and seemingly unlimited prospects.

The wedding reminds me a little of my dad saying that you could get married in the town hall, and put your baby to bed in a dresser drawer (on the floor, mind you, not in the dresser!) and have a blissful, wonderful life. He's right. What do we need, really, in the end? Money? Fancy dress? A cake bigger than the flower girl? A $500 crib and an infant-sized wardrobe to rival that of a Hollywood baby? No, really, we don't need any of that. Love is what we need. That's it.
It's a crazy world we live in and a crazy life we lead. I gave birth to that boy just a few short years ago, and now he's all old, and even married.

Go forth, new Army Family, into the big wide world and make a life for yourselves. What you are to be you are now becoming. Make it good, guys, because there are no dress rehearsals. You get one shot. You have it in you to make it count. And I know you can.

The Waiting Game

Once upon a time there was a girl, a young one, who fell in love with a boy. Not in the way you’re thinking, mind you. This wasn’t a romantic kind of a love affair. This girl fell madly in love on one August morning with a boy much smaller and younger than herself. She was too young to understand then just exactly what this new love would do to her life. She only knew that he was small and soft and smelled like new things. He began to grow, as many small things will. For a long time the relationship was pretty one sided. She carried, he threw. She fed, he burped, pooped, and on occasion threw up. She gave. He took.

It changed a little at a time, slowly, over months and then years. One day he smiled at her. Another day he said her name, her new name, “Mama”, as if he meant it. She still gave, he still took. But the giving was never as hard as it maybe should have been and the taking never seemed selfish, only necessary. He walked when she showed him how. He learned to blow bubbles, wave bye-bye, and from her masterful example he learned to talk more than most humans ever do. She showed him letters and numbers, and he learned to use them. He got very good at writing things like “I hate you Mom!” on pieces of paper and leaving them on the kitchen counter for her to find in the morning. She sighed, and made him his breakfast, and waited for him to grow some more.

People never seemed to understand this boy in the way she did. Some people made excuses for everything he did and said she was too hard on him. Others said she wasn’t hard enough, that she gave too much and he took advantage. She didn’t care so much. She followed her heart, and she waited some more.

Twenty four years went by in the blink of an eye, faster than she ever thought they would, faster than she thought even possible. He left her one day, which was fine in its way because it was time. It hurt a little, but she knew it was right. He rarely called. She worried, she wondered, she checked in now and then to see how he was. Boys, it is true, must find their way in the dark world, and a person once called “mama” isn’t always who they need to shine that light for them. They have to do a lot of it themselves.

She learned more about herself in those twenty four years than she thought possible. Ugly truths, gentle and tender secrets, deep things and shallow. Loving that boy made her a different person in the best and worst of ways. It was painful, scary, joyful, delightful and unbelievably real.

In four days, more or less, she will begin a new wait, and he will begin a new chapter of his life. The tables have turned; the demanding infant has become the young man willing to sacrifice himself for his country. In a uniform she’s not sure how she feels about some days, this boy will stand in front of her and swear allegiance to the country in which she reared him, the one she taught him to love and respect, the one she believes in, way deep down inside. He will become the property of a nation, the servant of a people, the protector of a country and she will be proud and scared. Mostly proud.

When you see him in his uniform in an airport, on your tv screen, in your newspaper you’ll look at him and think, depending on your politics and opinions, that you’re proud, or shamed, or angry, or sad and scared for his future. You will see a man you don’t really know, and you’ll think you do know.

But you don’t. While you see all of that or some of that, and think all of that or some of that, I will see and think only one thing.

Once upon a time there was a girl, a young one, who fell in love with a boy. Not in the way you’re thinking, mind you. This wasn’t a romantic kind of a love affair. It was motherhood. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Where Oh Where...

Noella mentioned that she missed me at Cummington this weekend in the comments. Unfortunately, due to the craziness on the farm that sometimes happens in spring, Barb Parry was not able to attend either the NHS&W or Cummington, so I was unable to sign. I debated attending and just roaming, but then the farm asserted itself here as well, and wisdom seemed to advise staying home and working.

I've had a bit of sore throat for the past few days, and had a bunch of chaos here between times. I will admit to taking advantage of the opportunity to stick close to home. There's been a lot of non-chicken related drama here too, and I am worn out, more or less. Maybe more. Besides. Wouldn't you take a day to hang here?

I wrote the first two books on a 13 inch MacBook I bought for 2-at-a-Time Socks, from a relatively comfortable recliner chair I inherited from my Great Aunt Blanche after her death, or from my Ikea Poang chair. I like the recliner better, sorry Ikea. It's a tiny thing and I fit in it properly. Not many chairs fit me. I am short, and my spine resembles a corkscrew more than anything else. I loved the portability of the laptop. When I was working on Toe-Up 2-at-a-Time Socks it was winter. Not a fan of the cold, the ability to move my entire workspace to six inches from the woodstove made me a very happy girl.
The book I am working on now doesn't allow the sort of laid-back slacker attitude in writing location. No laptop this time - instead a 22" monitor screen with a smaller 13" beside it. And a new keyboard. And it's not a Mac. So, the day after the book launch I set up the new PC in my office. In a normal office chair. Any notes I had made for this new book were safely stashed in my Macbook. I spent a couple of days just trying to transfer files, with a deadline over my head and malfunctioning USB devices, and you get the picture? There was swearing, there was whining (a LOT of whining) about the chair, my back, my shoulder, the stupidity of computers, the difficulty of adjusting to a new keyboard, a newer version of Word and the mental blocks that accompany writing projects. This thing happens where I just sit and stare at the screen as if I have forgotten American English, and then all of a sudden words come flying out of my fingers and poof, 7,600 of them appear as if by magic. Then I have to edit, sort, rearrange, fuss over and fix until at last I can shoot them off to an editor and patiently wait their return.
I am still not adjusted to this keyboard, really. I have got to get used to this thing. And the mouse. And the whole PC thing in general. I have not touched a PC for more than five minutes in about four years. When my office machine turned into a brick there was no point. But now, one capital investment later, I have to touch, have to remember, have to be the old dog luckily just relearning old tricks. Close the window on the right. Expect little warnings popping up. Don't delete anything with a .dll extension. And so on.
Today is Memorial Day, which always makes me pause and consider the sacrifice of the women and men who've died giving birth to and defending our freedom. Although there have been many active servicemen (yes, all men) in my family, none has been lost in the line of duty. God willing none ever will be. My son just joined the Army, and leaves for Basic training and AIT in September, I believe to Fort Jackson. This wasn't a sudden decision. It has been on his radar and in discussion for about five years now, maybe longer. Knowing that it wasn't an abrupt decision makes it feel alright somehow. Not great mind you. This is my only son, and the Army is not exactly known for keeping it's members out of harm's way. But then he could get killed crossing a street, or maimed with rogue fireworks, or who knows what. I am a fatalist, if you want to call it that, although really it's more a function of my spiritual beliefs. I believe we all have a time, and then yours is up, it's up. Joining or not joining the Army will not make that time come earlier or later. It's easier to live fearlessly if you believe this. It's how I get on airplanes. If God wants me down, then the sucker is coming down and there's not a darn thing I can do about it. If I don't get on the plane, he can just as easily take me out on the drive home.
Besides, maybe Daniel's duty post will be someplace terrifying for mothers, like Germany. All that beer and bratwurst. Scary times. Regardless of where he goes or how this all turns out, I am exceedingly proud of him. This is something I do not say enough to my kids, that I am proud of them. I am proud of who they are, of who they are becoming. I am proud to say I had a hand in their rearing. I am mostly proud that although I at times disagree with what they are doing (this is not one of those times, I am simply stating this as a point of reference) I am always and forever proud that they follow their hearts and their dreams. I like to think they get that from me.

One Last Holiday Thing (and One Free Pattern)

Last minute holiday stuff is coming up all around me, and it's making me think fast about last minute gift ideas for family and friends. I figured I'd share my musings with you in case you too are at a loss. Parts of my list could be for knitters and others, but mostly for knitters of course, because I am one and so am very biased in knitterly favor.

Audio Books
This depends on your giftee, but in general I find audio books to be well-received. I myself have a few around and some were sent to me for review purposes. I most recently dove into a review copy of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society with gusto, and really enjoyed it. Disarmingly homey, this is the story of the correspondence and relationship that forms between columnist and author Juliet Ashton and members of a rather unique book group. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society is formed spontaneously as an alibi to protect the members from arrest by Nazis during the occupation of Guernsey. Presented as a series of letters between members, artfully read by multiple voices, I found this a compelling listen. Following Juliet's process from slight to intense interest in this band of club members was entrancing.
I also received The Girl Who Played With Fire to review. Having not had the benefit of reading (or hearing) The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I had concerns that I might be missing enough critical information to make this a complicated listen. I had nothing to fear. I was instantly captivated by this thrilling tale of criminal activity and investigation, and by the main character Lisabeth Salander. I found myself rapidly caught up in the story, and sense that if it had been the "real" book I might have found myself curled in my chair long past bedtime, pages turning one after the other, unable to put it down.

Webs Gift Cards
Or a receipt for the one that you ordered online. I always think that the size of the gift card should be commensurate with how late you are in purchasing it. In other words if you don't manage to shop until Christmas Eve - or worse, online on Christmas morning, then the value of the card should be at least double what you would have spent if you'd planned better. Trust me, this will make you feel MUCH better about the whole thing. Would I lie? If you get your gift card in person at the store, amp it up a notch by tacking on a pair of really nice needles, a set of fancy stitch markers, or any of the myriad of other knitting notions we knitters just can't live without. Webs store staff is more than able to assist you in finding just the right thing!

Something Knitted
If you are a knitter, and you've got a toddler or small child in need of a personal but hurry-up gift, knit something and make it their own. Shopping out in public this weekend I ran across multiple examples in different shops of adorable knitted hats and mittens for kids that really were super simple, just embellished and customized into painful cuteness. Here as an example we have the basic knitted hat and mittens:
Yawn? Boring? Dull, right? Well, help it out a little. Knit your own and embellish the daylights out of it. If you're really pressed for time, you could even buy a set at your local department store and cover them with scrap-ball embellishments. This hat and mittens were knit in one day, and embellished the next morning. Super simple and super fast and VERY fun. The hat pattern is below.

Yarn: Cascade 220 Superwash colors Chocolate, Magenta, and Pink Ice are shown, but you can use any three colors of a worsted weight yarn that will get the correct gauge.
Needles: For me, a Clover 48" circular, US 4, but you should swatch and use whatever needles get you the proper gauge!
Gauge: 5 sts/inch in stockinette stitch
Notions: Clover (or other, this just reflects my bias toward a favored multi-tasker) locking ring stitch markers (8 of them), tapestry needle, imagination.
Finished size: about 16 inches in circumference.

The finished hat will fit a toddler, from about age 2 to about age 5, depending on the size of the kid in question. It may fit a 11 year old, if a bit snugly, as mine did (I just slapped it on one to see). It's snug on me, but I'd wear it, and my head is about 20 inches around. PLEASE feel free to adapt, modify, make bigger or smaller by adjusting gauge, or number of rounds knit, or casting on an extra inch or two's worth of stitches, or what-have you. This is a really basic pattern, and it assumes the knitter has a basic skill set of simple decreases and circular knitting techniques, or knows where to get information on the same.

Toasty Warm Toddler Hat With Ear Flaps Begging for Embellishment:

Cast on 80 stitches – Divide and join for working in the round. (This will vary based on the type needles you choose for your project. I used one long circular, so I divided the hat in two sets of 40 stitches. You could easily substitute dpn if desired, dividing the stitches based on the number of needles in play – for example 20 stitches on each needle if you’re using 5, or 26-28-26 if you’re using 4 and so on. Really all that matters is that you've got 80 stitches and they're joined for working in the round somehow. You could use one 16” circular and not divide at all. Choices, choices!)

Work in garter stitch for 1.25” (knit one round, purl one round; alternate these two rounds until desired length is achieved). Change to stockinette stitch and work until the hat measures 5” from cast on edge to needles. Knit one more round, placing markers after each set of ten stitches.

Crown decreases: Decreases will be in the 8 sections of ten stitches each that you've just made with your stitch markers.
Round 1:*K8, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 2 and all even rounds until round 14: Knit.
Round 3: *K7, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 5: *K6, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 7: *K5, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 9: *K4, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 11: *K3, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 13: *K2, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 14: *K1, K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round.
Round 15: *K2tog, repeat from * to beginning of round. 8 stitches should remain.

Cut yarn leaving a 6" tail. Thread yarn tail onto tapestry needle, and pull through all live stitches, pulling to close top of hat. Take yarn to inside of hat and run in end. Run in end of yarn at center back of hat (the tail where you cast on).

Earflaps: These can be left off if you're in a really big hurry. I am just a sucker for ear flaps.
With right side facing, beginning at center back of hat, count across 10 stitches, pick up and knit 16, skip next 28 stitches, and use a second yarn to pick up and knit 16 more stitches. These two sets of 16 stitches form the foundation of the earflaps. I worked mine at the same time, but you can easily slip one set of picked up and knit stitches to a stitch holder and work them separately, or just don’t pick them up until you’ve finished the first ear flap. More choices!!

The earflaps are worked back and forth in rows.
Keeping first and last 2 stitches in garter stitch and the center 12 stitches in stockinette stitch, work 7 rows on all 16 stitches. Now begin decreasing to shape flaps:
Next (RS) row: k2, k2tog, k to last 4 sts, ssk, k2 (14 sts)
Next 3 rows: k2, keep center 10 sts in st st, k2.
Next (RS) row: k2, k2tog, k to last 4 sts, ssk, k2 (12)
Next (WS) row: K2, p2tog, p to last 4 sts, p2tog tbl, k2(10)
Next (RS) row: k2, k2tog, k to last 4 sts, ssk, k2 (8)
Next (WS) row: K2, p2tog, p to last 4 sts, p2tog tbl, k2(6)
Next (RS) row: K1, K2tog, ssk, K1. (4)
Knit two rows on these 4 stitches, then bind off.

I made the ties using 12 strands of yarn, 4 of each color, about 20 inches long. I braided them together and attached them. You can do the same, or knit I-cord, or crochet a chain and work single crochet along it...whatever works for you!

Now comes the fun. Embellish. I've shown you two options here, but there's a million. Simple or complicated, it's up to you. You could use felt scraps to cut out shapes - think trucks, airplanes, snowmen, lollipops, the sky is the limit, and stitch them into place. Or crochet shapes and sew them on. Embroider flowers. Go simple. Go crazy. ANYTHING!! Now find a cold kid, and your work here is, as they say, done!

Abbreviations:

st - stitches
st st - stockingette stitch
gs - garter stitch
k2tog - knit 2 together
p2tog - purl 2 together
ssk - slip, slip, knit

For tutorials that teach a wide range of knitting skills, check out Knitting Help. This is an amazing website with a huge amount of information available to knitters!