that I actually finished knitting something?
A dear friend gifted me a little bit of lovely Malabrigo last weekend. So on Monday I cast on this mug cozy, and on Tuesday I finished it. Wednesday at 4:00 a.m. I put it to use. Seeing as how I get up so very early to work, coffee is more important to me than ever. This little cozy and I will work closely together for a long, long time.
In the interest of actually posting something, this is how you eat applesauce. At least it’s how to eat “applesauces” if you are RM.
Not fully awake, but alive. I started a part-time job a few weeks ago, and I absolutely love it. The one small problem with it is that the only way to find 20 hours a week in my already full life was to borrow them from sleeping time - starting around 4 a.m. So until I get new routines established my afternoons are spent either napping with RM, or in a non-productive state of half-awareness. This is not a state conducive to writing!
I need to get caught up on things though. Last week I had separate visits from a Stitch Marker Fairy and a Yarn Fairy. (How wonderfully blessed am I!) I need to take photos of the pretties to share. I’ve knit a little bit but spent more time dreaming of projects I’m looking forward to. The rest of it is just ordinary life!
I’ll be around more soon. For now I’m going to try for another nap!
…and your husband is sitting right next to the door, will he hear it? In the case of my husband the answer is no. I heard it though, it sounded like a long string of firecrackers going off followed by a cacophony of dog barking. (Don’t worry, the dogs are fine. They were either far enough away or moved fast enough.)
The tree suffered a couple rounds of ice storm damage over the 9 years we’ve lived here that left the trunk split. The wet winter and many rounds of freezing and thawing this past winter opened up the split even further and I knew its days were numbered. We were fortunate that a friend came out and cut back the half that would have taken down the fence a few weeks ago. The remaining section was kind enough to fall right between the deck and another tree where it could do no damage.
SW is not happy over the loss of this tree. (Neither am I, but I’m keeping up a brave face.) He doesn’t like change of any kind, and this tree was the major source of shade for our deck and the back of the house. To make up for the loss, we’ve taken a bunch of cuttings to root, and several other friends are interested in giving a go at growing one. It’s very reassuring (to both of us) to think of the offspring of our lost tree taking root at the homes of so many friends.
I really do like Spring weather. It’s a little bit like loving a roller coaster or a haunted house, the fear element that gives it such a thrill. There are days when it’s rumbly, gray and rainy all day, then there are the days when the storms roll through fast furious with bright sunshine before and after. The contrast is wondrous.
Yesterday we had one of those quick-moving squall line kind of days. The kids and I went out for just a little while. (The lightning makes me nervous, so I shoo them back inside if I hear thunder.)
I took several photos in different directions from the end of my driveway. All of these are within 2 or 3 minutes of each other. This first one is looking towards the South East at the fairly clear part of the sky.
Turning just to the North East we had this view.
At the same time, looking South West you can see the back side of a storm and the sun was moving in and out of the clouds. (This picture came out very cool.)
Then to the North West you can see towards the heart of the storm in all its ominous wonder.
This one actually skirted just barely north of us and all we saw was a little bit of rain. Less than 10 miles away there were reports of ping pong ball sized hail.
To keep up the theme of rapidly changing weather, tonight we have a chance of snow flurries. I’m probably repeating myself, but that just isn’t supposed to happen this far in to spring.
I don’t think that it’s true I haven’t had much to say lately. Rather I think I have too much to say and I’m simply unable to filter through it and find a single thing to post.
I haven’t been knitting much, just slowly plodding away at some toys I owe to my very patient friends. I have ideas and thoughts for projects, just no freedom to focus on anything. I have a longing to finish a few things in the works, but not the time.
I started a job from home, and that’s consumed some time and mental energy. It’s going to be good I think, once I’m used to things and settled in to a routine. I’m only replacing the income V lost this year though, so instead of getting ahead any it will just put us back to status quo. Of course, status quo was getting us by at least so I’ll take it.
My charming anecdote for the day is RM and her wonderful developing language. While her vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds, she still has a couple pronunciation issues typical to her age. The “L” sound is not yet mastered and the results are charming as she adjusts some words and simply avoids attempting others. The new guinea pig therefore becomes “Yucas” instead of “Lucas,” and “I love you” is simplified to “I you.” She sometimes sits and plays quietly while chanting her version of the Barney song, “I you me, I you me.”
I you too precious girl.
It’s about an hour and a half, but it would not be an hour and half wasted, believe me.
I’m not one to tell other people what to do, but I am telling you to watch this.
UPDATE: The link doesn’t work anymore, apparently it was taken down. It’s airing on HBO over the next couple of weeks, and I think also is on HBO OnDemand. If I find a new link I’ll post it. Still worth watching!
As long as you stay open to it, the world has a way of bringing you just what you need, right when you need it.
All three of the kids and I were out shopping yesterday at the pet store (more on that later.) There was a woman who was looking at us curiously for a few minutes, who finally came up and asked SW his name. Her face lit up, and she reminded him who she was; his teacher from first grade. (She was the teacher in the regular classroom where he spent very, very little time those early years, so forgive us for not recognizing her either.)
She told us that she did not recognize him at first, because he had grown so tall. Not just because of that though. She was also amazed because he was talking!
I needed to hear that, to be reminded of just how far this boy has come in his life. She knew him as a little guy who never spoke a word in her presence through the entire first grade. The kid who couldn’t even tolerate short periods of time in the regular classroom with the normal level of noise and activity from a group of his peers. Yesterday she saw him in busy, crowded, noisy pet store having a conversation with a store clerk. And she is right, that is amazing. I sometimes forget because I’m with him every day and I see every baby step, so I sometimes forget to notice how far those steps have taken him.
So yes, I haven’t made such bad choices after all. We are broke, we don’t have lots of nice things, and sometimes we need a little help. But my being here has given my son the support he needed to work so hard and make such progress - and he’s not done yet. So what I have done is made the most correct and valuable choice in my entire life.
I have been distracted by life again lately; the usual mix of this and that, budgets and bills, kids and chores, appointments and obligations and the occasional crisis. Then this week I lost my father.
That is not to say that my father has died. But in response to a request for some help to keep the kids fed while I fought to straighten out my son’s SSI and waited for the first paycheck from the job I’m starting, he informed me he “was not in a position to help” that he did not support the decisions I’ve made in my life and that he did not care to communicate with me any further.
Now my father is not a rich man, but neither is he struggling. He manages to maintain both his home nearby and a very comfortable weekend place near the lake. He buys a new car every couple of years, vacations three or four times a year all over the country, and keeps up a few costly hobbies. Yes, he and my Stepmother work very hard and deserve the things they have, I’ve never disputed that. I guess he has the right to value his luxuries, and at this point in my life he has no obligation to me and has never had one to my children.
I was not an easy teenager, but a lot of us aren’t and that was 25+ years ago. But I did eventually work my own way through college (still paying the loans on that one), and I never took up drugs or drinking, never had trouble with the law or anything along those lines. I am probably more honest on average than most and more tolerant of others. I did leave the family church as I grew older, but I had always attended with my grandmother and have no recollections of being there with him outside of the occasional wedding or funeral. In all his tirades at my inadequacy over the years, that never has come up anyway.
What I think has angered my father the most in life was my choice to give up my career in favor of better therapy and support for my sons. A decision not everyone would make, easy for some to disagree with I’m sure, but hardly the case for a tough love approach. But to a man of his level of conspicuous consumption and value of material things, apparently that is the unforgivable sin.
I did eventually find some other answers and support to help us through this stretch until the rest of the finances get worked out.
But I am devastated. No matter how hard I’ve tried to avoid it, I have measured every accomplishment in my life against what my father would think of it. I brought these beautiful, unique and special children in to the world, but he sees them as flawed. I helped my son overcome his Autism to the point where he can now communicate, but that was meaningless to my father who feels SW should be in residential treatment. I’ve given of myself and my experiences to support groups and other families of kids with Autism, but to him it was a foolish waste of my time and energy.
My mother tells me to stop being hurt and start being angry because I do not deserve his cruel words and low opinion of me. I’m trying so very hard, but it’s difficult.
Perhaps I should start by getting pissed over the beautiful Irish Hiking Scarf I gave him for Christmas. He never even said thank you.
I am a Mom, but Not Only a Mom. Somewhere underneath the daily routine of kids and home and obligations, there's still a person, an individual. I'm a knitter, crocheter, seamstress, would-be writer, and a woman. And even being a Mom is more than Only a Mom; it makes you a creator, cook, cleaner, doctor, teacher, therapist and all around problem solver. There is more to all of us than only Mom.
