What's on my needles

Lots of stuff, including 2 mystery projects that just resurfaced.

Here's the first mystery- a sock.  There it was, hanging out in a project bag that turned out to be pretty dopey.  The bag, not the sock.  I have the chart, so I'll make a second one.  I have no idea when I made this, but it was in the last couple of years.

And the second mystery - a shawl.  I totally forgot about this baby.  I have the chart but no written instructions.  However, I'm pretty sure I can figure out what I did. I don't know where I was going with the pattern, but that's the fun part of knitting; I can design whatever strikes me at the moment.

The Elsa Shawl, named for The Mommie.  The Mommie's given name was Elza.  An uncle of hers (Hillel Bacsi - pronounded as bachee - aka Uncle Hillel) called her Esti (her Hebrew name was Esther).  Her aunt (Cili Neni - aunt Celia) called her Estelle.  My father called her Elsie.  In her later years, I would call her Elzele (little Elza), just for the fun of it.  She'd give me "the look" when I did that.

This is all finished, and I'm writing it up, but here's the same shawl in a different colorway.  I'm reknitting it to make sure that my instructions and charts are accurate.

And finally, here's another sock that I'm knitting for Elder DD, she who got smart this year while slogging throught the Sandy mess in Manhattan, and discovered that my woolly socks kept her feet mighty warm.  Yes!  A convert!

I love knitting patterns like this, the kind that wave right and wave left.

So that's keeping me occupied, along with all the quilty projects, a crochet scarf, and general stuff.

Thinking about language - Very long post which no one will read, but I need to write it.

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, and I am thinking as usual about my parents' families. My mom's mom came here in the '20s, became a citizen and then sent for her 3 kids who were back home in Romania (the Hungarian part of the country.)  My grandfather died of TB when Grandma was pregnant with her youngest (Mom was the middle child).  Much of the family left behind in Transylvania, managed to survive the Holocaust, but only because Righteous Gentiles in their town sheltered them.

My dad's family, on the other hand, was decimated.  His immediate family (all of whom lived in Vienna), siblings and their spouses, and his parents all got out, some very much under the wire.  Uncle Alfred went to Palestine, then came to the US and built a life.  He was very musical and wanted to be a conductor, but the Austrians had a different idea.  At any rate, he got out under barbed wire. 

Tante Grete and Uncle Longy (called Longy because he was tall) applied for visas to the UK.  The Nazis arrested my uncle and were about to deport him to Bergen Belsen, when his visa arrived.  My aunt made it to the railroad station in time, and somehow my uncle was let go, and they went to the UK.  Uncle Longy served in the British air force; he was told to change his name just in case he was ever capture by the Nazis, and so he did.  Fortunately, he came out of the war unharmed.  Tante Lotte, who later married Uncle Alfred, also made it to the UK.

My dad, who was the sole support for his elderly parents (in those days, elderly meant early 60's!) took one look at the Anschluss, and immediately applied for a visa to the US.  My father was a very smart man!  He knew when to get out, and he was very very lucky.

The rest of the family:  a few escaped, some to China and then to Australia, some to Costa Rica, some to Argentina.  The rest, and my dad's family was large, all perished.

OK, so that's the basics on the Mommie and Dad.  Their native languages were Hungarian (The Mommie was the Short Hungarian Lady), and German with a Viennese accent.  My father's folks originally lived in Hungary, but many of them moved to Vienna sometime in the 1800's.

So what does this all have to do with my thinking about language.  Well, I grew up in a multilingual family.  They all spoke English perfectly.  Went to night school, high school, and learned proper English.  No grammatical mistakes, no slang, simply perfect English.  So perfect in fact that kids in school used to ask me where I came from because my English was so good. (I grew up in a city where everyone came from somewhere else, and everyone's parents had accents.)  English was the language spoken at home.  When they didn't want us to know what they were talking about, they spoke in German.  So of course, my sister and I quickly figured that out.  Then they switched to Hungarian.  I managed to figure out important words such as "nagy" , which referred to big (aka me, the older kid) and I could count to ten (which made my mother giggle since my pronunciation was not great).

The truth was that I knew my parents had accents, but so did every one else's parents.  Within my family, we had the German speakers from Germany, Austria and Switzerland, so they all sounded a bit different.  It just was the way it was.

My dad passed away a little over 40 years ago, and I totally forgot his accent.  My sister had managed to tape him speaking, but I never heard that tape.  Then, at some point, she found the tape and we all listened to it.  OMG!  OMG doubled!  My father sounded like a German, like a Nazi, like the people who wanted my people dead.  That kind of German!  Whoever knew he sounded like that?  Not me; he was my father with some goofy Viennese expressions.  But did he sound German?  Of course not.  How could he?  The amazing thing was that all the relatives and friends on that side of the family sounded like Germans or Austrians or Swiss.  Did this ever sink into my little brain?  Nah; they just sounded normal. 

But how could my beloved father who got out of Vienna right after the Anschluss, who knew first hand how rotten those Austrian Nazis could be,  how could he have a German accent?

It made me think, and I'm still thinking more than 40 years later.  When I was a kid, I was surrounded by people with German accents, so I just took it for granted.  I knew my Holocaust history very well, but somehow the German accent just never bothered me.  Then I grew up, met people whose folks were native born and had no accents, married one of those folks.  The only time I heard a German accent was either with my family or watching some World War II movie.  Oh, that German accent.  That horrible accent.  The accent of war, of hate, of concentration camps, of slaughter.  If I never heard it again, it would be too soon.  If I were on the subway, and heard a couple of women speaking English with a German accent, I assumed that they were German.  And after hearing that tape, I knew now that my father and his brother and sister, all had German accents.  They sounded exactly like The Enemy.

So maybe those women in the subway were not in fact Nazis?  Maybe the embroidery teacher I had, the one who came from Argentina, the one with the German accent who said she originally came from Switzerland, maybe she wasn't a Nazi either.  Well, I think her parents were, but then again, I had relatives who emigrated to Argentina, and they had German accents.  Or what about the Danish lady who really sounds German (might be all those gutterals?), was she from Germany?  It makes your head spin.

So maybe an accent doesn't tell you anything at all?  I loved my parents' accents; I loved that they came from somewhere else.  I love hearing accents.  One of the things that I most like about going into New York City, is hearing accents, and then trying to figure out where the people are from.  But do the accents really tell you everything? Could there be stories we know nothing about?  I don't know.  But I will say this:  We are all so fortunate to live in a country of immigrants.  And when you live in the New York metro area, you are doubly blessed.  There are so many people from so many different places that they have to get along. 

Nov 5 - Design Wall Monday

Hunter's Star!

What's new?  Hunter's Star.  I got bored with Nuts and Bolts and decided to start this one.  I'm loving it totally.  It is a 12" square.  Something much larger than my usual itty bitty work, but such a delight.  It actually goes rather quickly.

Nuts and Bolts is just about finished with the little blocks.  I have enough for one more row on the side and bottom, so I think I'll do that and then figure out what's next.
Do you think I should put a border on?  Color?  Solid?  Pattern?  I have no more fabric left, so I'd have to buy.  Should I do a border using the same fabric as the white squares?  What do you think?

Mommie news:  She would have been 98 yesterday.  I miss her more and more.  The realization that I will never see or hear or touch her again is so hard.  I miss my mom.

Other news:  The tree is where it was last week.  We are now waiting for 2 companies to tell us when they can remove it.  In the meantime, I can't go anywhere except on foot.  Trains are not running yet, and Crunchy the Car is trapped inside the garage.  It's not a biggie, mostly the idea that I can't get to the gym, etc, etc.  But I can go out for a nice long walk, and that's not half bad.

We're supposed to get yet another nor'easter on Wed and Thurs.  That's a bunch more wind and rain.  I have to admit that I'm nervous about this.  We have plenty of food and water, and have a gas stove if the power goes out again.  And we know how to cope with no power, but the nights are in the 30's now, and it's worrisome.  Well, we'll do what we have to do.  Folks down the shore have it so much worse.  What they don't need is another storm.  Keep your fingers crossed, folks, that it's just a piddly little storm with no damage.

Brrrrrrrrr

Got you thinking, didn't I?  It's going to be 96 today, 35.5 ºC, which is plenty hot for northern New Jersey.  So what's a girl to do at those temps?  Errands.  Yep, I have to do them.  And then hunker down in my nice air-conditioned house and veg out.

Don't need to bake bread because I did that yesterday.  I just might make frozen yogurt for dessert.  Supper?  We can go out. 

How about this for some instant coolness?  The fabric is called Magic Garden, and I got it a bit back on sale from Fabric.com.  I don't know what I'll make from it, but Storm at Sea might be calling me. 

So how about a couple of air conditioning stories for you?  First one is a library story, and it happened over and over.

     Once upon a time, it was hot in my edgy little town in NJ.  Very hot.  The library had the AC going full blast.  (cold enough so that I had to take little walks outside to warm up).  The place was buzzing with activity,  programs in the Children's Room, folks hanging out in the general reading area, and even the Reference Room was crowded.  Why?  Silly question.  Air conditioning!  

     So, this nice, innocent Ref librarian would say good-bye to folks as they were leaving and she wished them much coolness and comfort at home.  And they would say:  "It's hot at my house.  I don't have any AC."  "oh, that's too bad." said the librarian.  "Well, I don't believe in air conditioning!  Never have, never will!   I come to the library to get cool."  


     Well, if the person doesn't believe in air conditioning, then why is she/he coming to the freezing library?  That, my friends, is the question.  To get cool, or not to get cool.  And if you don't believe in AC in a very hot summer day, do you not also believe in heat on a cold winter day?  Another question for the ages.


Here's a Mommie AC story.


    The Mommie also didn't believe in air conditioning, only in her case, it was pure cheapness.  I know this because she would ask me over and over how much our central air bill was.  She did have a window unit but wouldn't install it because then she'd use it, and have to pay a little bit more in her electric bill.


     One time, when the Hubz and I were returning from Cape Cod, we stopped in to visit her.  It was about 100 deg outside, and I swear it was the same inside.  She did have a fan moving, but even her wood furniture was very warm to the touch.  She was about 85 years old at the time, not a youngster.  So we ranted and raved about how hot it was, and it was dangerous for an elderly lady, and not healthy, yada, yada, yada.  


     "Oh, don't worry about me.  I'm drinking sips of water all day long, and I have the shades down."


     "Are you nuts? It's 150 deg in the shade in this house!   Your furniture is hot to the touch.  Let Mr. Hubz install your window unit in the den, and then you can hang out there."


     "No, don't do that.  It'll block the window view (which she had covered because her shades were down).  And then I'll have to close the door and I won't like that feeling."


     Arrgh.  More ranting and screaming on my part.  I'll tell L (my sister) on you.  


     Says my sister:  "Mommy, I won't come to visit in this heat.  If anything happens to you, you are on your own, and you'll have to get to the hospital all by yourself, and I'm not visiting you there, either."


     This conversation happened every year until she could no longer live alone (at 92).  Did she ever put that unit in?  Hah!  Did she ever get heat exhaustion?  Hah!  Did I ever win the air conditioning battle?  HAH!  You've got to be kidding.


   So, now she is moved into her independent living apartment, where there is indeed air conditioning.  And I visited her shortly after she moved in, and remarked how nice and comfy her apt was.


     "Yes, it really is.  I have air conditioning, you know."


     Sigh.  

Me, I like air conditioning in summer and heat in winter.  Call me a weather wimp, but so it goes. 

Late to the party.

Warning:  a bit of self-therapy in this post.  No knitting, sewing, crocheting.  Just me and life.

Would someone please tell me why it took me so long to read The Divine secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood?  I'm reading and laughing and crying and am so loving it. 

Maybe I like it so much because of the mother/daughter relationship?  Maybe because I'm mourning my own mom, and this resonates so well with me?  I certainly didn't have the Ya-Ya kind of mom/daughter relationship with my mom.  We got along very very well, even when we were fighting and sniping.  Hey, I probably drove her bats, and she made me yell and scream.  So?  We loved each other, and we had mini-battles, and I never won any of them. I miss our little fights.  I miss her love.  I want her back. 

Oh, dear, this is getting maudlin.  Sorry, folks.  Sometimes my blog acts as a sort of diary.  Very therapeutic.  I don't like to cry.  Taught myself not to many many years ago in another life.  Well, it worked well then, now, not so much.  So I read a chapter or two, and then find myself crying for a few seconds.  Read a little more, laugh a lot.  Then cry, then laugh.  Ah, this mourning process is far harder than I ever imagined.  I thought I knew how much I would miss her.  Hah!  Didn't even touch the surface. 

I didn't cry all that much right after she died.  I was expecting it, and intellectualizing the process.   That's how I got through the first month.  Now, no analyzing, just emotion that pours out of me all day long. 

So, I just read about Genevieve's death and Jack's death, and I'm crying again and again.   Maybe I was meant to read this book right now.  I think so.

Back and at peace

We sat shiva (7 days of mourning) for a couple of days, and then escaped to Cape Cod for our annual trip.  We had booked our trip way back in January, and decided to use what was left of our reservation as a time for reflection and mourning and remembering Mom.  It was a brilliant idea.  We were taken care of, no cooking, cleaning, just long walks to talk about The Mommie.  Every day we felt a bit better and more at peace.  So I'm glad we went.  Was it traditional?  Nope, but it worked for us.

So now we're at home and I feel pretty good.  I've been driving myself crazy wondering why I wasn't sobbing, but then I realized that I've been watching my Mom slowly decline for months and months.  Her dying seemed like a natural conclusion.  She didn't suffer, she went exactly as she wanted to.  HAH! on going either into a nursing home or hospice.  Not my Mom!  No way!  And I got to be with her for the past 6 years when we moved her to NJ.  Besides, she's totally inside me.  I've absorbed her, and now I have conversations with her all the time.  So, while her body is now longer here, her spirit is very much alive all around and within me.  She still doesn't let me win any arguments.

I started a shawl in green, which I'm calling the Elsie Shawl in honor of her.  She loved green, mostly olive green, which is not my favorite color. but Piffle on that.  I'm using my favorite green.  (Hey, I think I might have won a battle here!!!!)

Lace always looks like a messy rag before it's washed and blocked, but you get the idea.  I'm about to start another pattern and am charting it out.  For once I am not working on a mystery shawl.  Yippee.  It's fun to actually show a pic.

I have admired English paper pieced quilts for a long time, so I decided to start one.  All but 2 of the fabrics are Kaffe Fassett style fabrics.  And all in blues and greens.  The background is an off white Kona.  Here's the first star:

It's good to be back home and back to normal.  I think I'll go for a walk before it gets unbearably hot.

Thanks, all you lovely commentators!   I do feel quite myself again.  It was very very stressful around here since last Sept with Mom health crises, and the last 3 months were beyond stressful.  But in all that time, I really incorporated the Mommie into myself, and I truly feel that she is somewhere in there.  And wagging that dangerous finger at me!

Baruch dayan ha'emet.

My beloved mother passed away in peace on Tues. night.  She was The Mommie right to the end.  A strong, virtuous, righteous woman.  Stubborn and tough, full of fight and independence.  My role model, my fighter (I never did win an argument with her.), the most wonderful mother in the world.

זכרונה לברכה - Zich-ro-nah li-v’ra-cha.   May her memory be a blessing.

Thank you all for your words of comfort.  It helps immeasurably!   I'll continue to tell Mommie stories because they are all delightful, even if I never won an argument with her. 

You know what today is.

The first day of Spring!

So that means that it's time for the annual Spring Poem.

Here it is!  The Spring Poem

High up, over the tops
Of the feathery grasses, the grasshoppers hop.
They won't eat their suppers,
They will not obey
Their grasshopper mothers and fathers who say:
"Listen my children, this must be stopped.
Now is the time your last hop should be hopped.
So come eat your suppers and go to your beds."
But the little grasshoppers just shake their green heads.
"no, no," the naughty ones say.

"All we have time to do now is to play.

If we are hungry we'll nip at a fly,
Or nibble a blueberry as we go by.
But not now. Now we must hop.
And no one, but no one can make us stop."

The end

I've been in hospital Mommie mode, but she's home now and very happy to be there.  She's way too old for any kind of procedure let alone an angioplasty.  But she's walking on the bad foot, and eating, and very  cheery.  Now if I can just de-stress....... 

I'm still here

But stressed.  The Mommie has to have angioplasty on Monday, and given her advanced age, I'm very nervous about it.  On the good side, she's in pretty good shape.  On the bad side, she's 97. 

I've done a bit of sewing, and a lot of nervous knitting, not a bit of which I can show you.  And a bit of dyeing, too.  Here are the colors for the next edition of the Light and Dark Lace Club.

The colors, except for the blue, are all spring pastels.  I wanted the blue to be lighter, but when I dyed it, it looked so totally washed out, that I went a bit darker.

They'll be up for sale sometime next week, depending on Mom's procedure.  Just thought I'd tempt you a bit.

Here's the latest doll quilt.  This time I'm using Hobbs Thermore as the batting, and the needle just slides through it so easily.  I rather like it, maybe even better than the all cotton one I've been using.

And that's it.  Spending tons of time going back and forth to doctors, having tests done, stressing out.  You who have done elder care know the routine.

Mom and me

I don't ordinarily post pics of me or my family, but this one I just couldn't resist. Here is a pic of my mom and me taken this past Sunday. Notice that we both have white hair.

The Pastel Queen is back, at least temporarily.

 

 I was in such a mood to do pastel variegateds on Sunday.  This time of year, I eat, breathe and sleep soft pretty colors.

Three have already been sold.  What's left are the 4 above.  In order:  Golden Blossoms, Green Blossoms, Lilac Blossoms, and Pink Blossoms.  As you can see, they are all gently variegated yarns, and would look especially lovely in scarves and shawlettes.  Of course, given that they are Penny Sock Yarn, they would also make charming socks. They would look great in both knit and crochet, and would make lovely wefts if you are into weaving.

Penny Yarn:  100g, approx 450 yards, 75/25 SW merino/nylon.  Soft and strong and is my all-time favorite fingering wt yarn.  You can work anything in this yarn, it's that good.

Where?  here:  http://fritzl.etsy.com

Any crochet yesterday?  Nope; I have to finish a secret shawl design, and devoted what time I had left to it after running all over the joint on errands.

Mommie News:  The Mommie seems to have taken a turn for the BETTER!  Yep, better!  Her aide is now with her through lunch and then cones back and gets her ready for dinner and then for bed.  She's eating much more, mostly because the staff wanders by her table and cuts up her food.  And she's lively and for a very confused lady, pretty with it.  She forgets that I have kids, but marches into the dining room and announces to the group that "The queen is here!"  Her Hebrew name is Esther, so of course, she's Queen Esther.  And she's back to quipping with the staff and the residents.  Go, Mommie, go!

All of this is due to her amazing aide and the staff at Charles Bierman!  They are the most caring, responsible people in the world of geriatrics.  If you need a home for a parent who can no longer live at home, but isn't ready for a nursing home, this is THE place to send her/him.  Nothing fancy.  You won't walk into the Bierman section and pass out with the glory of the place.  But substance is what you get here. 

More pretty yarns later this week, but not the pastels.  I had some darks that happened mostly because i didn't dilute the dye solution nearly enough.  So I kept the yarns because they are so pretty.  I can't be the Pastel Queen all the time, you know.

Scrabblequeen - Wasn't that nice news?  Usually I get the other kind of news, so this was a major happy surprise.  And you know my yarn mantra:  there's always more yarn.  tee hee.

Whew, relief!

We have had 3 ER visits in the last 3 weeks with the Mommie.  She's at that stage where she falls a lot, gets confused, has blank moments.  No, this is not all the time, thank goodness, but when you are 96+, that's what can happen.

First ER visit was a small stroke.  They don't refer to these things as TIAs any more.  They did find evidence of a little one in the left side of the brain, and that controls the right side.  So she was really out of it and unresponsive, and the next day, she was just fine.  Had total control of her right side, good strong grip, able to lift her right let up high, etc.  They kept her a few days to check on her but sent her home on Wed.  Whew, relief.

Then on Fri, she was totally out of it, not responsive, basically in blob form.  Back to the ER, where she recovered nicely and no problems.  All the tests were fine, ER doc told us we could take her home, which we did.  Whew, relief.

Next Fri, she was found sitting on the floor in her bathroom.  Responsive but had no idea how she got there.  She does have a very wonky memory, lots of time she remembers little and then other times, she's right on target.  So back to the ER.  This time I went alone, no need for the Hubbo.  And she was just fine!  Not even a bruise.  Competent, with it, although again she didn't remember how she got on the floor.  Was released in about 4 hours with is a really short time for ER visits.  So now she's back home.  Whew, relief.

The hospital has a good out-patient service.  The VN nurse saw her, and so did the physical therapist.  Medicare cover these visits, but only for a little while.  The goal with her residence (which is independent living) and with us is to keep here there as long as possible.  She is very much loved there.  Her room is right outside the dining room.  They help her to the table and bring her back.  She has a wonderful aide who helps her shower and get dressed, and now they think that she could use an additional person from 1-3 in the afternoon.  That aide would keep her company, take her outside when the weather is good, walk with her and her walker, and such.  No medicare help for that, but it would keep her out of the nursing home, and that's what we want to do.  And at the end of the stint, she could help Mom back into bed for a nap, and then at supper time, the ladies would help her up and to the table for dinner.  The evening chef actually puts her to bed on her way out.  When I say that the Charles Bierman home is the best thing going, I really mean it.  I have never seen a more caring and professional group of people.  The care they give the residents goes way beyond what anyone could expect.  They are the tops!

The physical therapist gave us some ideas on making her apartment better for her, and the hospital will send out an occupational therapist for more ideas.  I suspect that the hospital folks want her to go into a nursing home with her falls, but my feeling is that she will fall anywhere, in her apartment or in a nursing home, and she's not ready yet for a wheel chair. 

So that's the Mommie news.  I'm pretty realistic about her condition.  She's befuddled a lot of the time, but she's so well taken care of and loved, and it doesn't particularly bother her.  And as she has said many many times:  she's had a good life and continues to enjoy her life.  Is she the Mommie of old?  No, but she is the Mommie of Now, and that's good enough for me.

ER note for anyone doing the ER tango:  Make sure you always have a book or knitting or crochet with you.  It really makes all that time hanging out bearable.  Trust me on that one.

Yarny news:  In between all the hospital visits, I've been dyeing and knitting.  Most of what I'm knitting, I can't show you because it's all for the Light & Dark Lace club, but here's a pic of the shawl and scarf pattern for the Feb edition of the club.  The patterns won't be sold until June, just to keep them a bit exclusive.  Here's Avira Shawl:

And here's the little Avira scarf that I tossed into the pattern bundle just for the fun of it!

They'll be available for purchase around the beginning of June.
I can't show you anything else; it's all hush hush, but I can tell you that the shawls are pretty!

And here are the reds that I just listed in the Etsy shop.

In order, they are Red, Petunia, Vermillion and Orchid.  Yep, Orchid is more towards the purple end of the spectrum, but here it is anyhow.

Hi, Grace - It's an interesting situation, but fortunately I can do it, and the Hubs is a rock that I can lean on.  In a very strange way, it's been almost a pleasure in that I can do for my mom what she needs.  I know her wants and I am her ombudsman, her champion. I know that the nursing home would drag her way down, and am doing whatever I can for however long I can to keep her out of it.  Daughters of Israel is a very good nursing home, and Charles Bierman is part of Daughters, so when she needs to go there, I know that she will get the best of care.  I'm really hoping, and so are the folks at Bierman, that she will die while still at Bierman. And on a lighter note, it finally stopped snowing here in Morristown!

Scrabblequeen - When it became time for her to not live alone any more,we moved her here, where we could do the work.   I was still working at the time, but only in the next town over from her, so it was easy to get to her.  Fortunately I worked in a place where my schedule was somewhat flexible, and everyone helped me out if I were called away. 

Carol - I think that she is now going down hill more quickly physically.  It's a blessing that she is fuzzy a lot of the time.  If she really knew her situation, it would bother her immensely.  I've learned that elder care, even when she doesn't live with us, is far harder that I ever imagined, especially now when the crises seem to come very quickly.  Like you, I'm glad I have a great support system, and online support is wonderful.  We all know what this is about and can help each other out.


Wall-to-wall books - My mom lives in the best place imaginable.  I think she's really getting to the nursing home stage, but if she went in now, she would slide down so quickly.  Here, she knows the staff, who are beyond wonderful.  They care about her as if she were their mom.  So my solution is to hire as much support staff as we can (and still afford it).  Whenever she leaves Bierman and then comes home, she has no idea where she lives.  But the minute she steps into her room, she says:  "Oh, that's my furniture.  I'm so glad to be home."  And it makes her happy.

The Yarnarian brings you the good news and the good news!

Well here's the good news: Yesterday we had a Mommie medical crisis. You have to understand that anytime something medical happens with a fragile 95 year old lady, it's a medical crisis. You and I would brush these things off and get on with it. But at her age, you don't mess around. So yesterday, her residence called to say that we had something going on here. We were lucky to get a doctor's appointment, and off we went for the usual 4-5 hour activity. The end result is that we think we're OK. Just to make sure, she needs a CAT scan, but the feeling is that she's fine. Phew, relief. And I called this morning, and everything is OK.

The next good news is a lovely new shawlette I've just done. I was going to write up the pattern yesterday, but the Mommie took precedence, and I'm truly zonked today, so probably next week. Then I need it tested, and then we're good to go.

The shawl is called "Lili's Shawl" after our youngest grandkid, Little Lili. Poor Little Lili doesn't have any yarn named after her yet, and she is just about the most adorable, cutest, silliest baby/toddler around. She is the epitome of a one year old. No arguments here from moms and grammies: She is #1! And I can say this after 4 previous grands. Mind you, they were all #1 when they were her age, but since she's the latest and possibly the last of the grands, she wins that title. So here is Lili's Shawl:






I have lots more pics, but I just want to tantalize you today. Lili's Shawl looks deceptively mindless, and it is easy knitting (well from my point of view), but she has some neat knitty things going on: upside down pattern, blank spaces on the chart, faggoting border, cute edging, different row counts. Hah! And she is most delicious to hug and cuddle with, just like Little Lili. The only thing that she doesn't do is put things in her mouth. I leave that to Little Lili herself.

Now I need to design something for each of the other 4. Poor Benster has nothing at all named after him. Like a 4 year-old boy cares. This kid is like all the Katzenjammer kids rolled into one. A veritable Dennis the Menace, with a smile that will totally melt you and a personality to boot. He's a sketch. Have I ever told you how much the Hubbo and I like being Grands?

And now I'm going to take today off. I'm good in medical crises, but afterward, I collapse, and yesterday was scary. So today, I'm starting another project, a secret one at the moment. Secret because even I don't exactly know what I'm doing. It'll be another shawl, but something very unusual, I hope. I have these ideas in my head, and I need to see if they work out.

Have a lovely weekend. I'm going to try out my ideas.

itsJUSTme-wendy - When I heard that my stepdaughter was pregnant, I immediately started knitting a bunch of goodies. 2 years later, my daughter got pregnant, and I went into knitting overdrive again. This time, I made outfits from size 3 months all the way up to 2 years, and Miss P wore those sweaters forever. And that was that! I think the other 3 each got a Baby Surprise Jacket, but I was baby sweatered out. And now the kids don't want to wear sweaters. So go enjoy the knitting when it all happens. I think I knitted maybe 20 sweaters in total, plus the BSJ and assorted blankies. It was a lot of fun.

shortoldlady - You have to learn how to fudge when you are off a stitch or two. I swear I'm going to write a book called "The Fudge Factor", and then all the world will learn how to do this. Not the greatest idea when it comes to precision machinery or medicine, but for knitting and cooking, yep, fudging is fun.

Henya - Elder care is very interesting. It's not child care, and yet there are similar components. The Mommie is just fine and we do think this was just a scratch that caused the bleeding.

The Yarnarian Returns.

Garland Shawl

I'm back from the frozen northland, aka Minneapolis. Lots of snow, messy side streets with snow and ice and sand, and COLD! Brrrrr. But I had the right clothing, so I was fine, and now NJ is delightfully warmer.

Sunrise, Sunset in Morristown, NJ: 7:22 and 4:46. Pretty soon we'll start having longer days in the morning and spring will really be on its way. Notice that we are ignoring winter this year.

Flower Fairies Sock Club: I'm closing off registration on Jan. 15 or so. I need enough time to get the dyeing done, and with a very old mother, I never know if I'm going to be in the ER all day with her. So, I need some extra time for emergencies. Not to worry, though. If you want to join and it's Jan. 20, that's OK. I just want the bulk of the members signed up. All the information is here, and you can sign up on Etsy if you wish.

Knitting news: I'm working on a pair of socks for elder DD. This is the New Yorker, who basically wears black, but she found this bright pink yarn in my collection and wanted it. So here is the nameless sock. I am finding all sorts of variations as I'm knitting it.





I started and finished another triangle shawlette while I was away. This one is based on a sock pattern that I made and loved. It's amazing how different the pattern looks when it's knit on much larger needles and severely blocked! Here is Garland:







Yes, I know that the yarn is not to everyone's taste. I wear a lot of browns and such, and it fits in well with those colors. I could do another one, I suppose, but I'd rather knit a new one. These little shawls and scarves are an addiction!

Mommie News: the Mommie and I spent Tuesday in the ER. She took a little fall, basically she slid down onto her behind while getting out of bed and bruised her bottom. The EMTs didn't want to take a chance on her having broken a hip, so off they went to the hospital. She's fine, flirted with all the male personnel, got loved by everyone, and is happily back home. I'm afraid this is going to be on on-going problem. I don't want her to go to a nursing home; she is very happy where she is and doesn't need that kind of care. So everybody pray or keep your fingers crossed or whatever that she will be able to live out her life in her senior residence. She is well-loved there and cared for very well. It's just her falling episodes that are the difficulty. I'm going to see if I can find her a PT service that will come to the home. Maybe they can help her balance or at least exercise her legs. She's very lazy and won't walk, even with the walker. This is the woman who never owned a car and walked everywhere. She says she is old, and doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to any more. Yep, I know: if you don't use it, you will lose it, and she's losing muscle tone in her legs daily. but go argue with a stubborn 95 year old. Besides, I have never won an argument with her. She told me that the day I win an argument, she will be in her grave. I suspect that she is right.

Scrabblequeen - As if I'm ever going to win an argument with her. My sister and I once had a knock down drag out battle with her about the right way to fold crepes. She still claims she was right.

The Yarnarian Snarls.

It's one of those days. I've been running a lot and it caught up with me today. My gut is not a happy camper, so I'm stuck in the house, which is not so terrible except that I wanted to go to my knitting group and then visit the Mommie. And I'm missing the MA kids and grands. And I want to pester the grands. Not to be, alas. But that's not why I'm snarling. Here's my snarl, and it's totally my own doing!

This, boys and girls, is what I'm grumping about:



These are my notes on the brand new Fan Dance Shawl. Have you ever seen such a mess? This is how I design and knit. Which is just fine if I'm doing it only for me, but this little shawl is destined for greater things. She's going on sale at some point after my insanity calms down. Now I have to decipher what is going on. I know exactly how I knitted this shawl, but formal patterns require some numbers and charts that make sense and such. So, yours truly is sitting here in front of the computer slowly losing what's left of her little mind. SNARL! By the way, I've not been to this restaurant yet, so I have no idea how the menu appeared in my purse.

I was smart enough to make good charts, because I knit solely from charts, and they have to be good, but the verbiage part, plus the unhappy gut is not making me a happy camper.

Not to fear; I will conquer it, and will not learn from this lesson. I can assure you that the next shawl will also be scribbled somewhere as I work with it. This is all Elizabeth Zimmermann's fault! She taught me how to be an independent knitter, and now I have a hard time formalizing matters. Giggle! (I do wish that Blogger had emoticons, because this would be a good place for one or two.)

Wanna see more shawl pics?




I wore it yesterday and the Mommie was quite impressed with it. She's doing remarkably well. She did have lunch in her room, but came out for supper and is her usual self. I suspect that I have more of my dad's genes than hers, but hers are the ones I want. She tells me over and over that she has a very nice old age, and I believe her. She charms everybody. Her doctor bows very low to her when he sees her; he loves her. She is just about the most adorable, charming little old lady around. Believe me, this was NOT the Mommie of old. In her youth, she was one tough cookie. Now she doesn't have to be tough, although she does like a good argument or two. She has Little Old Lady down-pat, and it's all genuine.

One more Mommie story: her short term memory is not great. OK, she's 95, she's entitled. But every now and then, she comes up with something from her youth, and it just rocks me. How does she remember this stuff? Yesterday she started to sing some Romanian patriotic song. Huh? She comes from Transylvania, the ethnic Hungarian part, and her native language is Hungarian. After WWI, that part became Romanian. But the entire family spoke Hungarian at home as did her little town. Somewhere in school, she had to learn this song, and now she remembers it. In Romanian, which I thought she really didn't remember at all. So, while the short term memory is iffy, her long term memory is amazing. Not bad for a really old lady. We had quite a laugh over the song, too.

OK, I've had my fun, back to work on those directions. If you see a small woman in her nightie and robe tearing her hair out and screaming at herself, just smile at her, pat her on the head and tell her it will be all right, and then run as fast as you can to get away from her. She's liable to make you write up the directions!

The Yarnarian Is Back.

Click on all the pics to get the true look of the shawl!

Whew, it's been a crazy couple of days here, and I'm sorry I had no time to blog. But everything is fine.

Mommie news: We had quite a scare yesterday. She fell, and when the staff came into her room to ask her if she wanted to go to a program, they found her on the floor, bloody and very confused. So, they called me, the rescue squad (yay, rescue squads!), and carted her off to the emergency room. I met her there a bit later. In short order, the Mommie has some broken facial bones just under her right eye, but, most important, the eye muscles were not affected. She has one helluva bruise on her eye, and she looks as if she's been in a barroom brawl. Bloody nose, the whole nine yards. But her vitals are all fine, and she looks a mess. The Hubbo and I brought her home, where they saved some supper for her. The kitchen staff is wonderful, and they heated up her supper, brought it to her along with her coffee and chocolate cookies. She'll be on antibiotics for 10 days just to ensure that she doesn't get a sinus infection. I suspect she might be a bit sore today, but she wasn't complaining much yesterday.

I was supposed to go to MA this weekend to see the gang, but I'll stay home and visit her every day. I want to be nearby just in case something goes wrong.

The Mommie charmed everyone in the emergency area. All sorts of doctors, physicians assistants, and other medical folk came to visit her. One doctor wanted to know her secret of longevity. She's 95! She quipped with everyone, kept her sense of humor, and was truly adorable. This is the woman who was the toughest mom around. Boy was she tough! And now in her old age, she is delightful, charming and funny. And everyone loves her. Yeah, Mommie! At one point, I gave her a kiss on her head just before they took her off for a scan, and the nurse in charge asked her if she could give her a kiss too. Of course, said the Mommie most graciously.

Knitting news: So of course, I brought my knitting to the hospital. Emergency room visits are at least 4-5 hours long for cases like my mom's. I'm prepared all the time with my knitting. I finished the little shawl that I showed you. I love it; it's pretty and lacy and easy.

When I got home, I soaked and blocked it, and discovered in the process that when I bound off, I didn't pull my thread through. Emergency room nerves I think. But I didn't lose much and have enough yarn to refinish it.

Before blocking:




After blocking.








Don't forget to look at the info for the Flower Fairies Sock Club! Either Tuesday, November 24, 2009 post, or here! Flowers, Fairies, spring. I already am tired of winter. very big sigh.

The Yarnarian Actually Finishes Her Gansey!!!

I hope you are impressed! I finally finished the fake gansey I started last December. It was not difficult to knit at all; I just kept getting sidetracked by other projects.

It's modeled on a traditional Eriskay gansey, but I've done those types of ganseys before, and didn't really want to do an underarm gusset or a shoulder strap. So the bottom of the sweater is in true gansey patterns, but the bodice uses Japanese patterns. The pic at the top of this post is pretty accurate in the color of the garment, and shows off the patterns pretty well. I need to get some pics of me modeling the thing, but the Hubbo takes terrible pics, and me taking a pic of me is an iffy affair.




Maybe the sweater mojo is coming back. I hope so; I could use some new sweaters; most of mine are 15-20 years old. Good wool never dies, and the sweaters are basic shapes so they don't really go out of style, but it is nice to have something new and pretty.

Yarn news: What's left (all 3 skeins) of my Monday dyeing moment are going to be listed now on Etsy. I like showing the yarns here first; they don't get lost in the wilds of indie dyer-dom on Etsy.

http://fritzl.etsy.com

Dyeing thoughts: I've noticed a desire for yarns with pinks lately. So for you pink lovers, I'm going to concentrate on that color. Naturally, there will be others too. One does not live buy dyeing pink alone. Har har, bad pun. This week's yarn will be something other than MCN. Maybe Bambi, or even better, Rachel yarn. The one with the lovely twist to it. I like this yarn very much. The stitch definition in it is wonderful. Now to convince you all to give it a try. Sigh. Maybe I'll do a Dragon Jewel or two in it as well as the pinks.

Mommie news: We had a wonderful time scarfing down the little cakes I bought for her. I bet she didn't eat supper either. We consumed enough calories for an entire day. So my sister called her last night to wish her happy birthday, and her first response after the thank-you was: Have you heard from Ruth lately? I think she forgot about the cake and visit. I spend a lot of my time with her reminding her of stuff she's forgotten. I do it in a very gentle way and always with love. "Hey, MOM, remember when Linda talked to you yesterday..." This way I can bring her up to date without making her feel bad.

itsJUSTme-wendy - Pinks and tans are a great combination! I'm glad you like my gansey.

KV - nakniswemodo would surely kill me. Still, it's a great idea. I started the gansey with that in mind. Hah!

Happy Birthday to the Mommie!

Mystery Sock Clue #2 posted below.

We interrupt all the lovely socking going on around here to announce that today is the Mommie's 94th birthday!

Yay, the Mommie!

We celebrated her birthday on Sunday at my sister's house. All the kids were there except for the Minnesota crowd. It was lovely. My sister now lives in my mom's house, and has made a few changes here and there but it's still very much as my mother left it.

I was kind of nervous about the Mommie's reaction to going to "her" house, and she was too. She told me she was afraid she would cry, but she didn't. She said it was a treat, and she had such a wonderful day.

We ate and laughed and talked nonstop the way the family did when we were kids: 8 people all talking loudly and at the same time. At least 4 conversations going on simultaneeously, and everyone knowing what anyone else was talking about and jumping into the middle of other conversations. In short, the family chaos. I loved every minute of it. When we were kids, we'd go to our grandparents every Saturday. There would always be company there. And we'd have Jause (an Austrian custom of coffee and eats in the afternoon), and everyone would argue about politics and such.

When we brought the Mommie back home, she told me that if I have an old age like her old age, I'll be a very lucky woman. She feels very loved. I have tears in my eyes as I'm typing this. Whadda woman she is!

shortoldlady - Thanks for the Mommie b-day wishes. She's the Mommie!

The Yarnarian Investigates Itchy Red Spots.

Gotcha interested, huh? So here's the story:

On Sunday I had a couple of phone calls from the Mommie's residence that the Mommie had red spots on her legs and waist and they were itching like crazy. Would I come over? The first thought had been to send her to the emergency room, but would I come over and look first.

So the Hubbo and I went to check her out, and sure enough, she had itchy red spots. To my medically untrained eye, they looked like flea bites. Having owned a flea-spreading cat, I know these rotten things.

So we picked up an itch-relief lotion and she tried it out and said it was OK. We changed her sheets, flipped the mattress, did whatever we could without bombing the room. (This is a residence for elderly folks, so you have to be careful here).

I went out into the dining room, where I can generally find lots of the staff, and said it was bug bites, and that they might want to deal with this. No, I had no idea where she got them.

Tues. AM I get a phone call from the director of the residence. She is a lovely, caring woman who worries about her charges. She said that I should take the Mommie to a dermatologist. Nope, says I, I'll take her to her primary care physician.

The earliest I could get an appointment was Wed afternoon, so we went and yup, bug bites. The residence is going to call the exterminator to deal with her room.

And that's the story of the itchy red spots.

By the way, we had a lovely time together. I picked her up early, and we went for pizza at my local Whole Foods. There's a beautiful display of pumpkins outside the door, and she just loved it. Then we went inside, and directly in front of us is the flower section. The Mommie couldn't get enough of the flowers. We had our pizza, chatted about stuff, and had a wonderful day together.

And I hope I didn't get her bugs on me!

The Yarnarian has another Mommie story!

When the Mommie retired, she and a lady friend both around the same age and both widows, decided to take one big trip a year. Now you need to understand that the Mommie was always very frugal; she had to be. But as she got older, she passed frugal and became cheap, really mingy. So here is this woman who will not spend $2 on a glass mug that she really likes, and she and her friend decided to whoop it up internationally.

And travel they did. First class was not good enough for them. They toured ultra first class. They once did 2 Perillo tours of Italy, north and south, and complained that it wasn't ritzy enough for them. They took tours because that was the way they could really learn about the various countries, and they were taken care of from the beginning to the end of the tours.

A side note here - The Mommie's friend had lost a lot of weight and was very wrinkled. Both ladies were in their upper sixties - seventies and looked little and old and fragile. Not that they were fragile; they just looked it. And the Mommie's friend with her excess wrinkles looked old enough to be the Mommie's mommie. Every time they met up with their new traveling companions, the other folks would get this look on their faces: Uh oh, we're going to be saddled with these 2 old bags. HAH! Their first trip was to Israel and Egypt. Marched into the King David Hotel, unpacked what they needed to, and then went off exploring. Everyone else had jet lag; not these 2 characters; the literally marched out of the hotel. They also explored Mt Vesuvius on their Italy trip.

OK, back to the story. So the Mommie and friend went to Israel and Egypt, France, England and such, Italy, Greece and Turkey, Morocco and Spain, and the ultimate - Japan. They did part of the US, and I forget what else they did. Suffice it to say that they were all over the joint. They had 2 tours of Japan and had to get from one tour to the other on their own. So they got on the bullet train, got shoved in, and made it by themselves to the beginning of the second tour.

Oh, and the Mommie did get pinched in Venice, which she thought was hilarious, this the prudish lady.

They stopped traveling when illness began to arrive. All in all, I think they made at least 10 month-long trips.

Are you getting the picture? So the other day, an announcement was made at the Mommie's residence: We're going to lunch tomorrow to a kosher Chinese restaurant. Did the Mommie want to come. "No", she says. "But you'll have a chance to get out and see something really new and different. It'll be fun and exciting!" Answers the Mommie: "I've been all over the world. Do you really think that I'm going to find something new and exciting at a kosher Chinese restaurant?" At that point, the organizers of the trip gave up. How could anyone counter that remark?

There are many more Mommie stories yet to be told. And now you know why I've never won an argument with her. Neither did my father. Yay, the Mommie!

Ria - When I was a kid, I was afraid of her. Not that she ever did anything to hurt me, but when she got mad, she gave you the silent treatment, or The Lecture. And that's a story for another time.

Grace - She is The Mommie! NO doubt about it!