Life's a Stitch

It's been a challenging year. We just need some time to catch up with life and our yearly holiday traditions were adding to the pressure. I've always been an advocate of separating the meaning of Christmas from the hype on a bi-yearly basis and this year we're doing it. No cooking, no tree and no presents. Instead we made plans for an escape. Once the decision was made I felt released from a tremendous weight. Only the most basic Christmas decorations came out – my little ceramic Christmas Tree:

and the Nativity, my original olive wood set from my single years, with a stable constructed by Chuck and little ones and some lovingly added mismatched additions:

 

It wouldn't be Christmas without it.

Of course a unique set of circumstances helped make our exit possible – the agreeable kids of a reasonable age, the cancellation insurance from C's interrupted trip, someone willing to come in and keep an eye on things. So we're off to Honduras for a week. A tiny little town on a great big beach. We'll see what good we can get into.

Feliz Navidad!

(PS for those looking for my pattern. Please leave a comment and I will e-mail it to you next week.)

I'm sure this has been abbreviated to a shorter commercial in the US, but we don't subscribe to TV, and this Internet version just cracked me up.

No expectations for gifts at our house this year as we've agreed to do something different. I've always advocated celebrating the non religious parts of Christmas every other year. More on that in another post.

But in terms of gift giving in general, it is pretty depressing around here. My non-profit society runs the charity gift wrap booth at our mall, as our major fund raiser, and business is down 40% from last year. We feature eco-friendly products so it's not about adding to the landfill. A friend's retail shop is experiencing 50% fewer sales this year, I just heard that the Salvation Army's kettle campaign in my town is down 60%, and aren't you noticing more yarn shops going out of business?

I wonder if this will go on long enough to have a significant impact on our comsumeristic society? Maybe it will be a good thing and we'll have to do a better job with less and depend upon each other more like in times long ago? You can see my years in social services bleeding through, can't you? OK, I'll stop.

Someone recently comments that Gracee hasn't made an appearance in a long time.So here she is doing her two favourite tricks:

Gracee, can you crawl?

And balancing a treat on her nose:

Can I eat it now?

Couldn't get a picture of her tossing and eating it – she's way too fast!

(For those looking for the Herringbone Rib pattern – please leave a comment and I will e-mail you the pattern right after Christmas.)

You know the theory, the one that supports that other saying "It's a small world." Six degrees of Separation, explained more intelligently in the link, means that the whole world is connected by people who know someone who knows someone, who knows someone…you're never more than six steps away from that knowledge of someone. I told you Wikipedia could do it better than I. Here are some real life examples:

Twenty four years ago C and I  moved to a small town called Lions Bay, BC, population 1500. The woman next door, and one about five houses up, and I, all graduated from Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo within two years of each other and all ended up in tiny Lions Bay, Canada.

A woman I know had never met her step-father's first children. Even at his funeral events, the two families missed each other by hours. A couple of years later she went on a boating day trip with a group from work. They decided to cross into US territory. When they docked in WA for lunch, they had to provide ID to the customs officer. My friend noticed that the woman next to her had an unusual last name, the same as her step-father's. You've probably guessed it – she was the daughter of her step-dad, the child she had never met, but for whom had selected birthday and Christmas gifts for him to send back to his first family.

I bet lots of you have stories like that. What's yours?

I'm knitting a six degrees, of sorts, comfort blanket. Remember the prayer shawl I made for the mom of my student intern? It sat in the corner of my bedroom for  months because I was afraid to give it to her. Turned out she loved it, telling me it has brought her great comfort over the past year, and could I make two more – one for a friend of her daughter and one for the friend's brother, who as young adults, have lost both their parents. I've started the first one, based on the Bob Blankie by Mags Kandis.

The yarn is James C. Brett Marble Chunky. The skeins are 200 grams each, big as a bowling ball and light as a feather. Very nice for a washable acrylic.

I remember the first time….I saw a blow dryer. Had you going with that title, eh?

Growing up, a hair dryer was something that came in a pink, always pink, round zippered hat box shaped container. It had a plastic bonnet and a clear hose attaching it to the case. When it heated up it stunk like melting plastic.

Just after high school in New York, best friend Rosie and I hit the nearby Max Hair Studio for our first shag cuts, the stylists brandishing the newfangled blow dryers. So excited were we to be free of bonnets and juice cans as rollers, and unable to buy such an exciting tool without professional hair stylist status, we were determined to improvise. Out came the Electrolux vacuum, set on reverse, with a piece of panty hose rubber banded to the end to act as a filter, lest the previous night's sucked up spiders splatter our locks, and – voila (!) our own homemade blow dryer.

As long as we're talking about youthful heads, I can relate this to knitting. Surprised? Here are some eggplant and strawberry hats for a baby shower stash for daughters' friends:

Only a knitter knows the value of the knitted. We've all had the experience of being asked to knit for a price. I usually tell those who ask, that if paid for my time even at minimum wage, the price would be astronomical and that I'd be happy to teach them to knit. So I have an appreciation of such things and that's why I bought me a blankie. I don't need a blanket, I could knit a blanket but behold this beautiful piece of work:

I nearly fell over at a nearby small town craft fair when I saw the $23 price tag. The yarn had to cost more than $23. Certainly there must have been a one missing from the number.

There were socks for $12 and this scarf for $7.50:

I needed a scarf even less than I needed a blanket.

C and I felt guilty and received an explanation from the two Hutterite women working the booth. Their elderly mother was the knitter and she was more concerned about being busy than the price. They were pleased to be sharing their mother's talents and for that I am appreciative. So, for $23 I have a beautiful car blanket that will be the solution to our ongoing marital issue of competing internal thermostats while on the road.

And now to the WINNER of the 5000 comments contest. The beautiful angora goes to blogger Maureen of 5 and a Beagle. Coincidentally, I was the winner of one of her contests a couple of years back. Thank you again to all you readers, both the lurking and loquacious. You are appreciated.

How about this:

Right up my nonprofit career alley, the proceeds of this book, by Betsy Greer, will be donated to Rwanda Knits.

And what's the first pattern in the book?

 

And in the spirit of one good turn deserves another, Betsy paid me for the yarn for the sample scarf, which was made of Manos del Uruguay, another international initiative to help women in an undeveloped part of the world. And the money paid to me will be donated to A Place to Call Home Society, a new registered Canadian charity, that accepts donations of cash and real estate to amass a stock of affordable rental housing for people who work in my community, but can't afford to live here.

Who'd have thought the simple act of knitting could do so much?

Is there any activity that takes you right back to the happy feelings of childhood? Rolling down grassy hills? Curling up on a rainy day, in a warm corner with your favourite book? Not all are relivable in a practical sense. A couple of years ago I gave into the extreme urge to do a cartwheel and my wrist still groans from time-to-time reminding me to give those urges a second thought.

"Watch this girl, she really knows how to fly." I heard a man tell this to his adult son, in reference to me, two weeks ago. Way in the thick of my adult life I felt like a happy nine year old, perched high up on the water slide platform, ready to practice my technique, perfected by 32 previous tries in the preceding two days. And no part of my body ached in rebellion! So off I went, flat on my back, hands supporting my bad neck, elbows and chin tucked, toes together pointed forward,seven seconds of bliss. It was, as we say in our family, "a good cherry to end on." You never want the last cherry you've eaten from the bowl to be a rotten one. That try on the slide, the 33rd, was good enough to keep me going until the next time. Life is good.

Is it just me? Does anyone else have these moments?

REMINDER: the blog contest is still open, each comment is an entry 🙂

What's a blog without readers? Let's start with this:

1. Pretty in Peach

Originally designed for variegated yarns, doesn't it look good in a solid? Thanks to Criquette for sending her FO photo of my Herringbone Rib scarf pattern:

2. A contest

Four years and almost 5000 comments later – a thank you contest or a bribe to keep you coming back, whichever way you want to look at it. I'm offering a 250 meter skein of Canada's famous Fleece Artist Hand Painted Peter Rabbit Angora, in the Cornflower colourway. When I hit comment #5000, which should be happening in the next few weeks, I'll be giving away the yarn plus my always free-for-the-asking Herringbone Rib pattern. So, tell me something, anything. You could even tell me to get lost, but as a valued reader you'd still be in the running for some ultra soft yummy yarn:

Sixteen days crossing the Atlantic allows for some serious people and sky watching. Even though it was a bargain, starting at as little as $51 per person per day for the all inclusive cruise with taxes, not many can take that much time away from work, resulting in an average passenger age of over 60.The ship's kitchen ran out of prunes and oatmeal. Other observations:

• It was evident that some were there primarily for the food. These are the same people who love buffet restaurants, only here the food was available in one form or another 24 hours a day.
• There were a fair amount of anniversary and honeymoon (many second timers) couples. Word of warning: just because the balconies have solid dividers, it is possible to see clearly what is going on on the balcony next door from the reflection in the glass barrier. There is no missing it. Sound carries, too.
• A Canadian observation: there were many retired US military people of the Republican persuasion on board, hence the lack of enthusiasm for the Obama win. Just an observation.
• Since the inception of the Idol competitions on TV, Karaoke is no longer a fun place to get up and make a fool of yourself with your friends. It is a competitive activity, the same people every night having had much at home practice or those who take themselves very seriously but are in need of more practice. To heck with that, we got up anyway.      

• I do love cruising, the value and the opportunity to visit many countries while having to unpack only once,  but the amount of lining up promotes a herd mentality. One older woman physically pushed me out of an elevator. "Excuse me" would have worked just as well.
• Carnival Cruise Lines, now under new ownership, is doing a good job of changing its focus from the rowdy spring break drunken crowd to a more civilized atmosphere.
• A bonus – crossing the Atlantic in a westward manner allowed for five nights of an extra hour of sleep. It was the "Groundhog Day" of the end of daylight saving time,
• Adult content: On a van tour of St. Maarten, we were taken past a beach. We parked for a few minutes near the sign of demarcation, one side being the "bikini" beach and the other the clothing optional beach. Upon our arrival, a Dutch couple from our van found a rock from which to observe both sides, she the naked side and he, the bikini beach. Interesting.

Here are my conclusions about the experience. Although unlikely to partake in the activity myself, I understand the naturalist persuasion and the desire to bask in warmth of the sun in one's birthday suit. However, what is the deal with strutting your stuff up and down the beach? Granted we were only there for twenty minutes or so, but the only clothing optional people we saw, with the exception of one exhibitionist man who appeared to be crossed with a horse, were huge pot bellied men with little dangly bits. One old guy, with his Brazilian hairstyle, so to speak, standing near the van, invited people to pass him, positioned in a way that there was no way to avoid a glimpse of his goods. Ikkk.

• My sky at home is very small given the mountains in the way.I appreciated the opportunity to experience the activities of a big sky, the sunsets, rainbows and shooting stars.

 

Thank you for the comments while I was away and the pattern requests, which I will be sending shortly, when I recover from:

Worst souvenir: a combination sinus, ear and chest infection. I have a new sympathy for babies having difficult times in flight. I thought my head might explode.

Most cheeky moment: telling a man that he was mean for not letting his wife take her knitting on a 16 day trip.

Most productive knitting:

Variations on a theme, care for a pumpkin? One was for our dining room assistant server's expected baby.

The most stupid human trick that only Li could accomplish: spraying red wine over a white duvet before the bottle was even opened. While using a terrible corkscrew, I managed to push the cork into the bottle resulting in a fine mist of red stains. Yes, yes, yes, that was in addition to the wine spill in Rome.

What I missed most (other than the conspicuously absent Chuck): a reliable Internet connection. The satellite connection could take up to twelve minutes to send an e-mail. Still it was wonderful to have the opportunity to stay in touch with the home front.

Port where we found the most yarn shops: Madeira – three within blocks of each other.

Oink moment: the favourite nightly dessert was a seemingly innocuous chocolate melting cake. Really, how many calories can pudding cake with a teensy scoopette of ice cream have? One of our group members ordered this 15 out of 16 nights. On the last evening he was presented with the recipe. There was a collective gasp when we discovered seven servings contained a pound of butter, 10 eggs and a pound of chocolate. Low in sugar though.

Surprising aspect: how peaceful and relaxing five days bobbing along the Atlantic can be.

Most fun, though probably not a pretty sight: me and my middle age friends on the onboard water slide. That one deserves a post of its own, but for now I'm off to make a big pot of turkey soup.