Life's a Stitch

I usually delete bad photos, but not this one, a precious memory taken by my son-in-law. That's me, my eldest and C in a moving truck, in our first serious attempt at clearing out our house in anticipation of downsizing. They thankfully took their bedroom set, the piano, plus 20 boxes of stuff belonging to her and her sister. It's unfortunate that my new camera decided to bite the dust at the precise moment my son-in-law held it up and said…

"Say Elina's pregnant!"

If that darned lemon of a camera had let him snap again, E says it would have recorded that my head nearly banged into the ceiling of the truck while I was jumping up and down. I never thought that would have been my reaction, but it was truly a joyful moment.

Oh yes, they took the baby furniture, too. And, no, despite the bunny hats of my last post, it's a spring (early March) baby, but not twins. And the camera is going back. I need something more reliable.

Whoo-hoo! Moving on to the next stage of life… how did it happen so quickly? And I am no spring chickie, being of mature age when I had that child, my first, and now she's following suit. Funny thing about life.

 

 

 

Pattern: Bunny Beanie by Noe Knit It's a free pattern.

Yarn: Red Heart Soft Touch, by far my favourite baby yarn. It's soft, has great stitch definition, comes in tasteful colours and best of all, is machine washable.

Needles: Two sets of circular US six 8's. Knit on one until the third decrease round, then divided stitches between the two sets.

Modifications: There's always the "M" word when I knit. First, forget knitting the picot cast on for the brim, it rolls and doesn't show, so why go through the effort? I cast on 64 stitches for a newborn size. Finally, I tacked the two ears together at the bottom to get more of a stand up effect.

Thoughts: The ears make it a bit top heavy, but for a newborn it will work just fine. I'm adding this pattern to my list for baby gifts. 

 

I keep a stash of baby hats for shower gifts. My favourite one:

Can't tell you how many of those I've churned out. But my daughter had a point. There's a new crop of springtime babies developing, all awaiting gifts, and this hat seems a bit autumnal. Time to refocus.

Introducing the bunny hat in progress, with two sets of ears on standby in anticipation, one dusty rose, one aqua. It's very cute once the ears are sewn on. 

The first boss of my career pegged me a creature of habit. It wasn't a bad thing, he was referring to my daily breakfast ritual. My shift at the public health clinic was 7:00a.m to 5:00p.m., Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Wednesdays were an entirely different day of ritual that included the $1 matinee at the mall. 

About that breakfast. Back then it was a time when even the monstrous food chains could go beyond the policy book for the sake of customer service. Not one for traditional brekkie, I'd walk in at 6:30 on my way to work and they'd have my cheeseburger and coffee ready for me, with another coffee to go at 6:55. Couldn't do that today. 

Now I've added a lunchtime ritual to my habit. On days that I don't cover Gracee's lunchtime "out," my routine includes a walk to a nearby park along Vancouver's working waterfront. 

Twenty minutes to walk there, twenty to eat, knit and/or read, and twenty minutes back. Yes, I am a creature of habit. On this particular day I happened to have my camera. About two minutes into the knitting I heard the snort of a harbour seal. Grabbed the camera, shot in the general direction of the bowling ball head, and look what I found:

Two bowling balls, ten pin and five pin, mom and babe. I wonder what thier routine involves? Catching fish? Swimming by the beach to watch humans?

I walked into the kitchen at work. A co-worker from Iran offered me a treat. No thank you, I say, it's not on my diet. He seemed surprised, not sure why. I have a fair bit of middle age gathering around my waist, the equivalent of about ten pounds per child since my wedding day nearly thirty years ago. Then reality punched me square in my pudgy tummy. I looked at him and honestly replied, I have been on a diet for most of the past 42 years. 

Sad as that sounds, when I put my mind to it, I am most successful dieting when avoiding anything white that's not protein. I could've made a billion had I realized I was making up South Beach at age 18. 

What brought this on though, is the straw that broke the camel's back, one Fudge Cake with Coconut, albeit healthified. But how healthy can a cake that tall be, containing a half pound of cream cheese? It was light cream cheese. And I substituted half whole wheat flour. C thought it was so healthy that he had to buy ice cream to go with it.

Enough. If you have occasion to break a diet or want to leave your bad habits behind with a bang, this is the way to go:

Fudge Cake with Coconut

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a bundt pan.

Make the filling: 1/3 C sugar, 1t vanilla, 1 8 oz package of softened cream cheese, 1 egg, 1/2 C shredded coconut. Beat all until creamy.

Beat at high speed for one minute: 1 1/2 C sugar,1 C oil, 3 eggs

Add the following and beat for three minutes at medium speed: 3C flour, 3/4 C cocoa, 2t baking soda, 2t baking powder,1.5t salt, 1C hot coffee, 1C buttermilk, 1t vanilla.

Pour half of batter into bundt pan. Spoon filling on top, add the remaining batter. Bake for one hour. Cool in pan for 15 minutes before removing. 

Unbelievably delicious.

 

After all, it is a knitting blog. I know I've said that before, but the summer has posed a serious digression from the blog's intent.

Tid bit #1. Look at this cutie:

She accompanied her parents to our house for dinner. Chuck, the dutiful host, took her on a tour to show her the locations of the bathroom, TV, computer, everything of importance to a three-year-old.  Going by the knitting room he decided to engage her in a discussion about colour. WIth each open drawer, those saucer eyes became dinner plates. She took a deep breath and exclaimed "You've got too much strings!" Out of the mouths of babes.

2. Number two goes to Robbie, the visiting Cairn terrier. Now Gracee, the Scot, when it comes to other dogs, behaves in diametric opposition: she bares her teeth or is utterly indifferent. Almost ten-years-old this dog showed us a new trick. She stood in the middle of the living room emitting non-stop serial barks. Ruff…ruff…ruff…ruff. Little Robbie, also a Scot, calmly walked around her and very confidently proceeded to pee on my knitting basket. "So there" thought he. Now I know why I store my projects in baggies. 

3. The third bit of knitting tid is actually about crocheting. I remember in 7th grade English that being called artistic license. Thank you Sister Marion. You remember Robbie, from Number two above. Maybe that should have been Number one, considering the circumstances. Robbie's owners had just returned from visiting an elderly aunt who gifted them with a collection of historic family photos. This one caught my eye immediately. Auntie in her hand crocheted sweater circa the 1930's:

Both beautiful, the aunt and her sweater. Don't you think? I wonder if she was posing for her FO (finished object for non-knitters who have so kindly made it through to the end of this post) picture.

The second wave of summer visitors arrived, my sister and her family. While they were here:

We explored very high places:

Got caught in tight spaces:

Geocachers left no traces:

Arrghhh, self portrait faces:

"Yes, Bocce!" the Grace says:

The end.

 

This summer's beginning, although not consistent weather-wise, meant family time. With regard to the weather, it reminds me of a similar season, when my girls were little. Canada Day weekend, sitting by a pool, me clothed in Goretex, clutching an umbrella. The kids? Mercilessly immersed in swimming lessons. It was July after all.

Those girls, now all grown up, no worse for the swimming wear, came home for a visit with Grandma. 

All three little darlings were home at once:

The girls and I did uncharacteristically (for me anyway) girly things. Manicures, pedicures and feathers in our hair:

The little birdies once again flew the coop and this week my sister and her family have joined the nest. More on that later, just wanted to catch up. 

 

Once upon a time there was a family. The mother of the family opened her backpack and discovered the LCD screen of her little camera smashed. Oopsie. 

The mother called one of her daughters to share her woe. "That's OK, Mom, I dropped my MacBook." Oopsie."It still works but is dented and closes wonkily."

Then she called the boy. The boy is in fourth year at the local university studying film making, which continually amazes the mom considering the trials of his last year of high school. She shares her camera woe. "That's OK, Mom, I dropped my Go Pro movie camera into the ocean and had to hire an urchin diver to fish it out." He gets the oopsie prize. "It's waterproof, so it still works."

If things happen as they say, in threes, then the oopsies are thankfully over and the family can live happily ever after. 

*****

I got almost five good years out of that little camera, having broken my last one at my daughter's wedding rehearsal dinner. This time I went for one with fewer bells and whistles and concentrated on my preference for wide angle and macro capabilities.

 

For Father's Day an observation regarding today's dads. So different from the Leave it to Beaver days, much more involved. The non-profit for which I work includes Childcare Resource and Referral services. We have an increasing number of fathers taking responsibility for day care arrangements. 

So one day, I'm on a crowded bus. Two guys, in their thirties were standing in the aisle immediately in front of me, their conversation plain as day.

"Hey, how's the little guy?"

"Almost a year now, we have to find daycare."

Thinking to myself: we're so fortunate to live in a country with a year of paid maternity leave. 

"That's a big job."

All I could do not to whip out a business card.

"We have a list of four, the first three weren't so good. The fourth is way across the railroad tracks, we're going there tomorrow."

A list? That's encouraging, they've already used our services. I've probably seen them in the office.

Dad continues, "All I want is for him to feel secure and not stressed."

Wow you get good Daddy points.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

A pregnant pause and a sigh.  

"And how's your dog doing?"

Honest to God they were talking about dogie daycare. Thank goodness I didn't give them my card. I guess doggie dads have changed, too.