• This is precisely why I carry knitting with me at all times. You never know when you'll be required to spend hours in the ER. Besides my casted leg, last week's visit to the ER had the positive outcome of allowing me the time to frog back a major section of pink pooling in my Hitchhiker Scarf. Here's the FO:

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    Pattern: Hitchhiker Scarf by Martina Behm

    Yarn: Cherry Tree Hill Supersock Merino

    Needles: US 5

    Thoughts: I think the design is brilliant. Very easy pattern produces super sproingy fabric in an interesting shape, when knit in sockweight yarns like Cherry Tree Hill, Wollmeise, Koigu, Claudia Hand Paints, Colinette Jitterbug, or anything made from a Louet gems type yarn. Don't worry, even the sock yarns with under the required amout of length makes an acceptable drapy scarf. Mine ended up with 36 points instead of the pattern's 41:

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    This weekend Blogless Marsha will be hitchhiking with me, hers in Koigu, mine in Jitterbug, as we get together to enjoy the Pink Martini concert. 

     

     

  • This is a therapeutic post. My Ravelry "curse word" is my Puerto Rican grandmother's "Ay Dios Mio." I dated a guy, whose mother asked me one day,"What's with this smee-o smee-o stuff?"

    There has been a lot of that stuff happening here recently. This has been a year of life and death, health and injury. Many an occasion to utter our Grammy's favourite words. This past Monday, for example.

    Following a fine hike on Vancouver's Baden Powell Trail, which I decided to leave because of footware not matched to that segment of trail, those being trail runners rather than hiking boots. I watched every step carefully and safely made it back to the newly gravelled access road, 15 minutes from the car. I'd like to describe a dramatic scene, as in I was being chased by a bear on the trail, but alas, I was walking on flat, albeit gravelly ground.

    Ay Dios Mio, a simple act of putting one foot in front of the other on that road allowed my life's lightening to strike twice. I can now say I've fractured an ankle twice. Granted, the last time was 45 years ago, and I am thankful for two advances in modern medicine. The first being the aircast. Such luxury showering in a plaster free state, being able to remove sand from that portable jail for bone and muscle, and having the ability to adjust the tension to accomodate swelling. The second might be a difference in the fracture, but I have gratitude for not being dependent on crutches. 

    I was not happy for our local hospital's new reluctance to prescribe pain meds other than stomach eating anti-inflammatories, so I prescribed my own, the red liquidy kind. Not too much, but an extra glass to my daily intake for the first few days:

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    I'm determined to find the positive aspects in all this. Just imagine the knitting opportunity this presents.

     

     

  • There really is such a thing as a one or two day project:

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    All you need is bulky yarn, a 10mm hook and this free pattern.

    Pattern: Crochet Lacy Wrap (Coats and Clark).

    Yarn: Noro Silver Thaw, now discontinued. 

    Hook: 10mm, US size N

    Thoughts: The same scarf in green was a prop in that knitting movie I was telling you about. After researching the pattern and remembering that the same yarn was snoring away in my bottom stash drawer, this fine finished object  was produced within a 24 hour period. Got to love crochet. Sometimes anyway.

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  • A good summer's read:

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    Honest to God I was fantasizing about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail before hearing about this book. We've decided to start smaller and do the West Coast Trail next summer, rated on the of the top ten hikes in the world. Who knows what will come after that!

    Learning something new:

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    A crocheted wire and bead bracelet. This pleasure was combined with a dose of frustration but it was still fun to learn something new.

    "Acting" silly:

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    Lot's of fun on the set of "Knitwits," a student film about a woman substituting knitting for a smoking addiction. Yes, I acted in it. I was the token older yarn crazed woman. Go figure. 

  • Sometimes it doesn't take much.

    1. A gift of yarn from someone who knows that I don't need an inch more of the stuff. But C knew it would be appreciated:

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    And I'm putting it to good use on a Hitchhiker Scarf, a pattern that's easy on the wrists:

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    2. My son, safely returned from his five weeks of travels, most of his accomodation arranged through Couchsurfing.com.

    3. A new vacuum cleaner. I don't know what it is about a new vacuum, definitely one of life's pleasures. Perhaps it's in comparison to the one we've used for years that really doesn't work. This one is an upright. I seem to switch back and forth between these two modes of suction. Uprights last longer for us. Maybe it's because C doesn't hurl it down the stairs as he does the canister variety.

    4. Baby smiles. Rye at three months:

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  • Do you beleive it? After all this time, an FO. My goal was to finish prior to my hand surgery, and I succeeded, due to the fact that my surgeon has flown the Canadian coop to better opportunities in Seattle, leaving this hurtin' chicky behind. I view it as an opportunity for a second opinion. Someday. Presenting:

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    Pattern: Flared Lace Smoke Ring by Jackie Erickson-Schweitzer  

    Yarn: Design Club Duo Silk Merino (Denmark) Laceweight

    Needles: Addi turbo size 6? I'll check and update once I find the needles.

    Thoughts: Lace on every row, not one stitch of plain knitting, it seemed to go on forever, but was worth the effort. Wish I had made the bottom wider to compensate for the laceweight but I'm happy with the size of the top. Beautiful lace, here's a closeup:

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  • Now that the funeral is behind us, I'd like to share the two items in memory of my Mom for those who are interested or those who missed the event. First is this video and second is my contribution to her memorial service. They are in two separate posts due to technical difficulties (here's the link).

  • "I get the last word. Something that got me in trouble as a kid.

    I was at the funeral of a co-worker several years back and her teenage daughter got up and gave a powerful heartfelt eulogy to her mother. Hating public speaking myself, I thought how could she get up there and speak at such an emotional time? I thought I could never do that. But now I realize how it fits into this difficult part of life and here I am getting my opportunity to talk about by mother and I wouldn't give it up for anything.

    My mom had a successful life considering her long battle with major mental illness. Her success was due to two things. Chuck and I look back on the long life of his dad, who when born in 1900, went from a world of horse drawn carriages to witnessing a man walking on the moon. Treatment of mental illness has experienced an equally dramatic evolution. It came from institutionalization and something treated on a psychiatrist's couch to the recognition of it as a chemically based brain disorder, a disease that can be successfully treated with drugs. When treated appropriately you would have had a hard time believing that my mom was afflicted with this devastating disease for most of her life.

    The second factor in her success was the support of her extended family, most importantly her brother Bill and his wife, my aunt, Annette. Thank you for providing critical support and the love of family when she needed it most.

    And if a blessing can come from my mother's mental illness, for me it was the fact that it put me on a solid career path of 37 years in community mental health and social services. I know the realities of the disease and how bad it can be for families and I am reassured overall at how well my mother did.

    My favourite story about my mom was the story of how she met my dad. Two immigrant families, Polish and Puerto Rican, moved to the suburbs of Queens. The day of the first snow storm that winter, my father went to the new neighbour's house and offered to help their son shovel snow. He figured being from Puerto Rico, they had little experience with the heavy white stuff. The son, my uncle Bill, uttered four words that would change their lives forever. They were, “I have a sister.” It was a classic boy next door story and the rest is history the result of which were two Poli-Rican children, my sister and myself. If that cultural love story happened in our town of North Vancouver today, the kids would be called Kor-anian.

     Who was my mother? Here are some things you might not know. She was a professional dancer in her younger years, but she also earned her Early Childhood Education credentials. She travelled in at least ten countries, and drove automatic with two feet, one foot on the gas one on the brake. She preferred dogs to cats. She liked her coffee iced, her wine white, and her husbands Polish. She was widowed twice. She believed that all religions were ultimately united by one God and lived this belief when she, an Eucharistic Minister of the Catholic Church, married her second husband, Nate Brenner, a Jewish man who kept Kosher. She hated perfume but loved the scent of gardenias. She was a lifelong knitter and a dedicated volunteer in a program that matched seniors with second grade pals. She was an amazing grammy.

     My mother had a arsenal of sayings used to help us understand life. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, with friends like those you don't need enemies, honesty is the best policy and practice makes perfect. There was one I didn't agree with. Over the years when we heard the teenage antics of friend's sons, and when my own son had his 16 year old night of drunken trouble, she'd simply sum it up as “Boys will be boys.” She let them off too easy. Hey, Ari, this doesn't give you permission to go crazy knowing that Grammy would have been OK with it. I have my own saying about teenage boys that I heard from a police officer and that is “One Boy One Brain, Two boys half a brain. My mom laughed when I told her that.

    I have prepared a video slide show that depicts my mother's life in three minutes. It goes fast, but be assured that there will be a slower version playing on the screen afterwards so you can have a better look. Look closely. I believe that there are 14 people from this room represented in the pictures.

    I want to thank you for coming, for sharing in remembering our mother's life. I hope you have some positive memories of your own. Thank you to the Barre contingent for your hospitality and welcoming my mom into your church and her final resting place. Thank you all for giving me the chance to say, with you as my witnesses, Goodbye, Mom."

    (My memorial video can be accesed here.)

     

  • I do need to update this blog. I can't figure out an excuse for not doing so. The kids are out of the house, not for the evening; they all maintain their own household, for now. I still work the same full time hours. Extenuating circumstances dictate that I don't knit as much. So what is it that crunches my time into little morsels? Point form to the rescue:

    • I am knitting occasionally, putting on a maximum of eight rows each time to the Flared Lace Smoke Ring. Still don't have a surgery date, but my goal is to bind off the day before, exchanging stitches for stitches.
    • Creative endeavours include a video slide show for my sister and I to show at my mother's funeral. People ask how is it a funeral when she died in November? Remember that fiasco? Cemetery closed fr the winter, body in storage, funeral delayed? Bizarro. I'm not sharing the video until the event. I figure we all need to be together to hold each other in comfort.
    • Still walking on the 10,000 steps a day plan. In order to earn that many paces I need to add a 40 minute walk to my routine almost daily. A healthy time suck.
    • Life modernization included the recent addition of an iphone and the accompanying learning curve. Definitely a step in the right direction.

    What to use to illustrate this post? Gracee at 10 1/2 years and grandbaby Rye at 10 1/2 weeks:

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    Little political statement

     

     

     

  • In the injury induced absence of knitting I was on a creative quest. Popovers. Soda can sized airy puffs, right from the oven, melted butter on top. A restaurant near my childhood home specialized in popovers.

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    For you Brits, they have the same ingredients as Yorkshire Puddings, but cooked in a different pan. Yorkies baked in a muffin tin come out lower and cakier. Still good, but not popover good:

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    The pan is the secret. I mentioned this during a recent visit from my Minnesota SIL's and I was presented with the ultimate Nordic Ware popover pan. Similar to a muffin tin but doubly deep. 

    The recipe:

    Ingredients: 2 eggs, 1 C flour (works best with white but whole wheat gives impressive results), 1 C milk, 1/2 t salt, 1 T margarine for the pan, cooking spray and flour for dusting.

    Procedure: Bring all ingredients to room temperature. Spray pans with cooking spray and dust with flour. Place a half teaspoon of margarine or butter in the bottom of each pan. In a large measuring cup beat eggs slightly. Blend in remaining ingredients just until smooth. Let rest for half an hour. Heat pan for five minutes in 450 degree oven. Remove from oven and fill each cup halfway. Return pan to oven and cook for 20 minutes. reduce heat to 350 degrees and cook for twenty minutes more. Serve warm from the oven. DO NOT open oven door. If your oven has a window, park yourself in front and watch the show, the magical continuous rising of popovers is akin to the legendary listening of corn growing in the midwest it happens so quickly. And the scent…

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    We also baked them with an ounce of grated cheese on top. Yumm.

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    Leftovers are wonderful the next morning for breakfast, toasted and served with melted white cheese and jam.

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    A word of warning. These are not meant to be sweet treats. Sweeten them after baking with powdered sugar, jam or syrup. I added one tablespoon of sugar to the batter causing a disastrous outcome. Tough spongecake would be the best description.

    We all agreed, the pan is the key to success. My SIL bought the competitor's pan and had less than satisfactory results. The Nordic Ware pans are pricey, as they are made in Minnesota, but with each batch the cost per popover gets way more reasonable. Sort of like your Addi knitting needles.

    Need more convincing? Pop on over and I'll bake you some.