Life's a Stitch

Not resolutions, revelations. I confess, most of my knitting
projects experience a minimum of four false starts. Cast on. Frog back. Cast
on. Tear it out. Cast on. Tink (non-knitters- tinking is knitting
spelled somewhat backwards and means knitting in reverse).  

Knitting revelation #2: I
have quite a collection of  beautiful yarns languishing in my stash that didn't work out despite numerous project attempts. Eventually that
yarn will meet the right pattern and create the perfect match.

Now here's another
knitting confession, and Ravelry made me do it (non-knitters, Ravelry is the
equivalent of Facebook for knitters, with half a million members). Tonight, as I was checking out the Ravelry Scottie dog group I moderate, I discovered a new group called the New Year's Cast On. Here's the description: "This is a group for those of us that are celebrating the new year by
casting on a new project. Cuz we all know the other 18 or so aren't
enough."

I
have no business starting anything right now, but hey, if the shoe fits…I'm in and if you're interested, I'm sure there's room for more. Stay tuned for a future post to see the outcome of my New Year's revelation Ravelation, which involves yarn and a pattern, the products of previous failure.

So, to all of you, knitters and non, readers and lurkers, those with resolutions or not, best wishes for a New Year with hope for a better future.

Just wound up year 11 of running our charity gift wrap fund raiser for work. When I was 15 my first job was as a gift wrapper at a Lord and Taylor in NY and here I am, 40 years later, still gift wrapping as part of my job.

Wrapping about a thousand gifts each season, you can imagine there are stories. Trends in gifts and habits of customers. On Christmas Eve 90% of them are guys. A diamond ring or two, tea pots and giant stuffed animals. My favourite gift to wrap? Triagular Toblerone boxes. Largest? A pair of five foot tall wooden giraffes.

This year two tied for strangest gift. A customer wanted five fancily wrapped empty boxes to put under the tree in advance so the others in his house would think he bought them really good gifts and reciprocate accordingly.

The other one? I saw my daughter check in two crystal glasses. A few seconds later I heard a crash and the tinkle of broken glass. Then I saw her wrapping the mess in a box. "Did you break that?" I asked. "Yup." Then I heard the customers cracking up. They had asked her to break them, a set up for a christmas prank.

One guy brought in five thongs, as in underwear not the flippy floppy kind, one leopard print and the rest some
combination of lacy red and black. It was all I could do to keep from asking
"Is that a gift for her or for you?."

It's all over now. We depend upon dozens of volunteers to get the job done, all kinds of
people at the busiest time of year, generously donating their time. Coming
from ten different countries, the youngest was 13, the eldest 80, several had special needs and three
were recruited at knit night. A big thank you to all of them.

At home this year, out of necessity, we simplified our Christmas. The ceramic tree and our nativity is all we need and it might just become our new tradition. Surprisingly there wasn't a word of protest from anyone, including  the decision to scale back gifts. Nobody felt like they missed a thing.

As for gift wrapping, you know how they say the shoemaker's kids have the worst footware? Don't look too carefully at the wrapping. By the time we get home on Christmas Eve night, we're too tired to do much in the wrapping department.

In this season of Jingle Bells and O Holy Night, what song is stuck in my head? Don't Cross the Street.

If you recognize it, you are probably a New Yorker of a certain age. It was an anti jaywalking campaign sponsored in the 60's by the City's traffic safety department. The version in the video is a more recent recording by They Might Be Giants, but it sounds just like the original.

Catchy, isn't it? Almost uncomfortably obnoxiously so. Like this one:

My creativity quotient is near zero. You bloggers know what I mean? AKA writer's block.

I function well under stress, hence my long satisfying career in social services. Family life is good, work life is steady. What suffers is my creativity and that's a huge hunk of life for me. 

Riding the waves of crisis, one after the other, tired and teetering, bringing the last one in with finesse, finding myself stuck in the sand with no creative energy. The water retreats around my ankles. comes back in, recedes again and I'm mid calf. Mired. And it's Christmas time to boot.

It's not all bad. Being held still lets me take stock and prioritize. Family. Work. My top two. What will I let go? Christmas cards yet again. I am known for clever holiday greetings but the years find them fewer and farther between. I appreciate that my daughter has taken over the tradition. The tree may be solely ceramic instead of fir. Blogging will go to once or twice per week. I will stash my watercolours to wait for calmer seas. When I knit I'll reach for comfort yarns and rhythmic patterns.

That's another Lacey Kerchief in cashmere, the pattern recently having gotten me through the ER, ICU, CCU and other upsetting acronyms.

In the meantime I'll let those creative energies simmer. The more I rest the more they bubble, and after awhile I know what happens, they'll boil over. You'll see me at every knit night and my Mastercard bill will bulge with painting workshop tuition fees.

There's a vanity in my bedroom, a sink in my living room, and loud fans everywhere:

 


In an unrelated event we have no water and they are digging up our yard:

I am not looking for any more sympathy, but if you happen to meet Calgon today, send him to my house to take me away.

I've always thought couples need exceptional communication and coping skills to engage in activities such as playing bridge and wallpapering. We don't do either. I've recently discovered that warping a loom ranks right up there. I'm happy to report that we're not only thriving through serious illness recovery, but loom warping times three, which has brought the cost per scarf down to around $86 each. Could be worse, someone I know has a machine knit sweater otherwise known as the $3000 sweater.

Regarding rigid heddle looms, I've been asked Kromski or Ashford? My original rigid heddle review was in this post. Here are my updated thoughts after purchasing both the 24" Kromski and the 12" Ashford Knitters Loom:

• I like the fact that both are finished wood.
• The 12" Knitter's Loom is so maneuverable and portable, but is limited to scarves.
• The 24" Kromski is a little more cumbersome in size but can be used to make generous sized shawls.
• If I had it to do over again, I'd probably buy the newer 20" Ashford Knitters loom – the best of both worlds for shawls and scarves.

My warping helper (that's how his role is described in the Kromski loom instructions) was doing really well until two days ago when he twisted slightly in the wrong direction. It's discouraging since he described himself as feeling 100% recovered until that moment, which has left him in constant pain. We're awaiting x-ray results to determine if he separated a rib that might have been cracked in surgery. Owie.

Considering our family's recent life events, at the urging of my daughter, I've decided to indulge in some comfort. Food and creativity in that order.

There are children in my life, now not so little, who early on dubbed certain foods with kiddy pronunciations, preceded by something to the effect of "I'm not eating…."

"I'm not eating moose ka ka." 

"I don't want no pouty pouts."

Well kids, tonight Uncle Chuck and I are eating moussaka (the low fat/cholesterol variety) and brussel sprouts. Yumm (the only thing missing from this particular table was Blogless Marsha and Dave).

And that was after an impulse purchase of an Ashford Knitter's Loom. There, Nonnie, I did it.

I knew I recognized this feeling. It may sound bizarre, but coming home from the hospital with Chuck felt like bring a new baby home. Entering a new world, the promise of a bright future, with someone seemingly so fragile. The fear. Wanting to put a little mirror under his nose to see that he's breathing. Sleeping with one ear open.

The whole experience has had its bizarre elements:

• The ICU roommate, being visited by his daughter and wife. Daughter decided she didn't like her mom's new haircut, and proceeded to take out her scissors to finish the haircut right there in Intensive Care. 
• The doctors' comments on the two angiograms, one from three years ago compared to last week's: "They don't even look like they're from the same person."
• Chuck's pain experience – everything hurts except his chest. 
• The array of non heart smart food available in the hospital cafeteria.
• The way things work out – having had both flu shots two weeks in advance, being near a great cardiac hospital, having insurance.
• The price of prescription drugs in the US. Yikes.
• Chuck's description of Blogless Marsha and I attending to his medical needs on his first day home. He labelled us Lucy and Ethel as we tried, with peals of nervous laughter, to give him his first insulin injection at home. The harder we tried the more hilarious it got. For us anyway.
• Two pieces of meat, the same weight, one with fat attached one with fat trimmed. One is way lower in fat, but both have about the same amount of cholesterol. How did I miss that? Even more bizarre – one boneless skinless chicken breast, although low in fat, contains 37% of your daily cholesterol requirement. I have to rethink my knowledge of fats vs cholesterol.
• The respiratory therapist's recollection of a patient's description of the sound made by one of her pieces of equipment – "sounds like a duck fartin' in mud."
• Only in America – I spent $150 on groceries and came home with a free 19lb turkey and 20 free cell phone minutes.
• Knitting content – I met a woman who was wearing a brand new Dale of Norway cardigan. She paid $6.99 for it at Value Village.
• More knitting content -  despite all the time I've had to knit I'm still not quite done with the Lacy Kerchief Scarf:
  

Thank you all for the positive thoughts and prayers. Things are going as well as can be expected.

The wedding ones, I'm referring to. We're on the good side of for better or worse. Figure we're right in the middle of for richer or poorer. However, we're not doing too well in the sickness or in health department. Just so long as we don't go to the next step.

It's not impinging on the marriage, but this man of mine has proven to challenge this segment of the vows on a repetitive basis. Very recently on a trip to meet Blogless Marsha and Dave, halfway between our homes in the US and Canada, Mr. B experienced crushing chest pain. Long story short and one coronary bypass later this is what we've learned:

• If you live in a country with socialized medicine do not leave without travel insurance. The commercials are correct. Don't leave home without it. It looks like ours is coming though for us. The alternative was a much larger mortgage.
• If you happen to need emergency bypass surgery, Washington state is a good place to be. I can't imagine what would have happened if C's ticking time bomb went off while we were in Honduras.
• You can have a very healthy heart and messed up arteries OR you can have completely healthy arteries and one messed up heart. Heart disease takes many forms other than the traditional presentation you always heard about. Your situation requires individual attention.
• You may have had very sophisticated tests showing clear arteries, and despite being on cholesterol beating drugs and a decent diet, those arteries can clog fairly quickly, as in three years for Chuck.
• Don't assume your internal body parts are located where the text book
  says they should be. The placement of C's particular artery, 2 cms into
  his heart, made for the experienced surgeon's remark of it being the
  most tedious bypass he's ever completed.
• Friends have hearts of gold. I arrived back from the hospital each night to find monumental tasks finished, a well cared for dog and dinners prepared. And for the collective thoughts and prayers, we thank you.
• It's hard to be without family in a place far away from home crisis. Thank goodness for communications technology as in cell phones, skype and hospitals with wireless access. My daughter, the nurse, was able to participate in the post operative debriefing with me and the surgeon, outside the ICU via skype.
• You can make a significant difference in someone's life – donate blood.
• Simples pleasures make a big difference in coping with crisis. A hot bath, buttered  lightly margarined toast, fresh fruit.
• Never leave your knitting behind.

Now go give your partner a hug, or in the case of a recent bypass, a kiss on the forehead (thanks, Joan B, for pointing that out).

The collective wisdom of middle aged experience:

Last week at work, we hosted two 14-year-olds for Take Your Kid To Work Day. Part of
their experience included attending a staff meeting where I asked the staff to consider, given their life experience, what advice they would have given their 14-year-old self. This is some of what we came up with:

• Embrace change – nothing stays
  the same.
• Stay in school for as long as possible.
• Be positive.
• Start saving for retirement early
  – even if it seems impossibly far away.
• Try new things.
• Keep an open mind.
• Improve your vocabulary and
  reading skills.
• Have a good time.
• You become your friends – be careful with whom you choose to hang out.
• Balance your work life with an
  activity you love to do to.
• Think before you speak – quick,
  sharp words have the power to do serious damage.

 
What
would you tell your 14-year-old self?