Knitting Swatches

When things get too hectic around here I pick up my knitting needles and just knit. Cast on any old number of stitches and knit til I develop a rhythm that relieves my tensions. Sometimes I'm so tense that my knitting gets tight and I have to concentrate on working a little looser. Usually, noticing the tight stitches is all it takes.
I got this yarn last spring at the open house at the winery. And I've been itchin' to knit with it ever since. It's a sturdy 100% wool, hand spun, hand dyed and 2 ply yarn called "Fundy Fog" that I thought would be too heavy to make socks.


But after knitting my swatch I think that's what it will be.

I took it to meeting last week to unwind the skein--it came in a hank. I had used some scissors to cut off the very sticky tag. Because meeting was starting soon I left my half done skein, the wound up ball and my scissors on the table knowing they would be there when I got back.

What I didn't know (and really should have remembered, being a mom) is that you don't leave scissors lying around where there are oodles of kids under the age of ten. Well, guess what happened? Yep, that's right. Those scissors proved to be too tempting for some little person and when I came back my yarn had been snipped right in between the skein and the ball! I did want the yarn cut in half eventually but not just yet.
Not until I had divided the yarn exactly in half and weighed each ball on a balance scale so that when I knit the socks I wouldn't knit too much on the first and not enough on the second. Oh, well, I can console myself with the thought that I do know how to add on in the middle of the row and not leave a hole where I switched yarns. And yes, the little one did confess (in a whisper), "I did it."

I Love My Kids

We were in Kirkland last Lord's Day for the all-day-meeting. We haven't been for such a long time. I really noticed a change in the people there. Not personality or anything like that. It just seemed like there were different people than before, that's all.

The adult bible class was very good. They were in Ephesians 5. Very, very practical advice for parents of young children. And very, very sobering for those of us whose children are grown. Four or five things to remember in raising children.

1. Do not discipline in anger (I often put my children "in ward" until I could figure out what to do with them and until I could simmer down. "In ward" was their bedroom. )

2. Don't "roast" the brethren. (Criticism of the people you really do love is deadly).

3. Be in agreement as parents. Forbid them from playing one against the other.

4. Have rules with relationship. The kids need to know that there is love behind the rules and that they are not arbitrary.

5. Let the children know that ultimately they have to do with God and are responsible to Him.

Well, that about does it for me. I feel slain.

Spring

Spring is here finally. And I think it's about time to cut the grass.

You've been tagged!

I was suppose to tag someone at the end of my last blog. Since I don't think many will read it again I decided to post anew. "For those of you in Rio Lindo" and others who have asked, it is the same as it is in the kids' game of "Tag".

You are it. You get to do what the last person did. In the case of the kids'game that would be to tag another person by running after them. In this case it means that you get to write five interesting things about yourself. Because I want to hear from my family, I tag gramma, kedj, the brother, and jailgy. You guys can tag your family members. Except Bobby. On second thought, I would like to hear interesting things about his life.

I'm having fun teaching two and three year olds...again. Poor picture but the only one LJ took that day.

Tagged!!

I've never been tagged before but this week chatty tagged me. She said to write five interesting things about myself but I don't think of my life as really interesting. Maybe unusual, but not interesting. I hesitate to write anything at all since I really can't think of much. It has taken me all week to even come up with this list.

The five "interesting" things I can think of are:

1. I use to race on a swim team and it made me a nervous wreck.
2. I lived in Japan for four years and learned to speak Japanese. My sisters and I still speak it to each other once in a while. And I yell at my kids in Japanese (nothing bad!)
3. I went to 11 different schools before I graduated from high school. And 13 schools in all.
4. I have five, not four, sisters as everyone who knows me assumes. The one I never met died before she was born. I'll see her one day.
5. I have had four C-sections in less than four years...and I think I'm sane again. (You be the judge.)

6. If I could have a sixth, you might be interested in knowing that I made a poi pounder in 2nd grade at St. Andrews Priory when living in Hawaii. (The first of three schools that year). That's it in the picture above, right next to Harvey. I don't like poi, either.

There you have it. Nothing like blabbing about yourself on the internet. You all know the quote: "He that speaketh of himself..."

Snow Again

When we woke up yesterday there was at least 8 inches of snow on the ground. Unusual for March 1. None was predicted. In fact our usually accurate weatherman said it was going to rain. I suppose it did in some parts of the lower mainland but I don't think anyone got snow like we did. Even friends who live just two miles away didn't get any.

The snow reminds me of the first time I remember visiting my grandparents in Pennsylvania. While there the snow fell. So much fell that they closed the schools. An unheard of event where I had come from in Hawaii. It was the first time I ever saw snow. I was seven and had only experienced walking barefoot in the warm rain. I thought snow was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Of course, it was novel. I had lived in Hawaii since I was a year old. But the memories that snow evokes now, bring back thoughts of that trip to PA and all it entailed: Gramma's house with its clanging radiators that gave off absolutely no heat (or so we thought until we stepped outside), Grampa's outside fire pit where he burned the weekly garbage; the hot sweet tea served after supper that was mostly milk and sugar; getting a spoon from the glass spoon holder Gramma kept in her corner cupboard; lemon candies that were super sour in the middle that Gramma kept on her entry table; my first sight of chickadees (now my favorite bird); jenny and jack wrens feeding from the bird feeders set up out side the kitchen window just for our enjoyment; feeding squirrels on the enormous front porch; watching Grampa call to the neighbor kids (from that same front porch) who had no mittens and then having them pick a pair that Gramma had knitted just for that reason; Gramma's "never spent a dime" jar where she saved and banked every dime; red boots and a red toy chest on the back porch; never realizing that the red toy chest was just for us kids (I thought it was only for the good kids); the dime cemented in the steps off the back porch just for fools to bend down to try to pick up; and making snow angels for the very first time.

Reading all the above makes me realize the tremendous influence my grandmother had on my life. I loved her dearly and even today she affects me. I still love snow and enjoy its silent falling. I suppose it reminds me of childhood innocence and carefree days.

Although I can't say, "I never spent a dime," I collect them just as she did in a tall glass vase and then take them to the bank rolled, and deposit them in my account.

I'm still searching for those lemon candies that are sour in the middle and sweet on the outside. Just two days ago I bought two different varieties hoping again that they were the ones. (They weren't.)

I knit and knit constantly. Although I haven't knit mittens in awhile (see KJ's blog for the last pair) I sit in the passenger seat of the car and pass the time knitting, just as Gramma did, on long trips.

I had Mom get me some spoon holders just like Gramma's and often use them when company comes over and I'm serving buffet style.

But I don't have a dime stuck in the cement in my back porch. I think that was actually Grampa's doings.

Having lived in super humid Hawaii I still remember the blast of cold, crisp, dry air as we walked outside to play in the snow. And inside again to warm ourselves by the scorching warmth of the crackling wood fire. We could hardly stand the static electricity in our hair as we tore off our hats and stomped the snow from our boots. What strange phenomenons flyaway hair and shocks were.

This is actually an old picture of our first snow. The snow disappeared so quickly this time, that I didn't even get a chance to take a picture. These pumpkins have long gone the way of all November pumpkins.