May 4th-I Love You, Dad

Dad would have been 78 this year. It is hard to see his birthday come and go without being able to see him, help him celebrate, and buy him a gift. I used to buy him daisies every year for his garden, or tomatoes, or give him lotto tickets in hopes that he would win it big. God, how I miss him.

I miss his voice when he sang, a beautiful rich tenor or when he recited story poems to me as a child: Casey at the Bat, The Raven, The Cremation of Sam McGee-all favorites still.

I miss the way he held his grandchildren, the way he played with them and tried to teach them the skills he knew in art, woodworking, and gardening. He exuded love for them every minute he was near them.

I miss his gentleness. I miss his talent. I miss his hands-hands that created art in many forms-watercolors, oils, photographs,woodworking, furniture refinishing and furniture making, gorgeous leather tooling and leather work. He was a perfectionist. Whatever he did, he did well.

One of my nicest memories was when he taught me to knit when I was 8. I bought a book and a pair of plastic needles and some white Red Heart yarn at Woolworths. I tried to teach myself garter stitch, but all I got was a tangle of knots. He took the book, the needles, and the Red Heart and taught himself garter stitch in an afternoon. Then, he taught me, and in a matter of days, I had a somewhat crooked but very recognizable headband. I wore it to school. He promptly forgot how to knit, but was the best ball winder anyone could ever ask for! He was ever patient and didn't mind winding for hours until my yarns were ready for my next project.

Lung cancer took Dad on September 5, 1995, way too early. It was good to see his pain and suffering end, but he was taken from me way too soon. John remembers his essence. Dan doesn't remember at all. I'll remember forever. Love you, Dad.

I wish I had...

Making my first pair of socks has really made me think back onto my grandmothers and their knitting. Mother's mother was from Bavaria, and came to this country with a third grade education and a child in tow. She was widowed at a young age, raised 4 kids alone during the depression, and taught herself English by reading the newspaper. I have been told that she was an amazing sock knitter. I only got to see her twice a year for a day or two, and she spoke mostly German. I wish I had asked her to show me how she did her socks. I would have loved to have watched her make something. Our visits were so few and far between that there was never any evidence of her knitting. I should have asked.

My father's mother knitted and crocheted too. She made me things all the time, and even though I never saw her much either, she sent me handmade gifts in the mail often. She'd make me purses, and the nicest knitted slippers! As soon as I'd wear out a pair, she'd send another. I knew she loved me, and that in itself was the best gift!

I've been thinking of both of them while learning socks. I wish I had connected more with them back then. It is way too late now, except for in my heart and through my hands. I miss them both.

Kitty Claims the Cashmere...

I have been thrifting a lot recently, gathering wonderful specimens for frogging/recycling. Some of the sweaters I take apart and reknit the yarn. Others, I felt and make bags out of, wallets, hair accessories, and the like. I finally came across a two-ply, gorgeous, cream-colored cashmere sweater that I had big plans for. Guess who has claimed it?? Buttercup the cat. She found it on the couch the other day when I was working with it. Now it is hers. She sits on it, sleeps on it, cuddles with it, and cries for it. I guess it is official. It is all hers. She has good taste!

Learning new things!

Wow it has been quite a week~incredibly busy with family visiting, kids' activities, and everyday life. What has kept me grounded are my Rav friends, and my knitting. I'm trying to finish up at least 10 wips--maybe even more. I am a cast-on-aholic. I have so many things that I want to make that I start them all and then they sit. I finally finished my first BSJ, started months ago. Here's a pic of the final sweater:




I've also done a bunch of dishcloths to try to learn some new stitches and techniques. Stitch markers have kept me busy too. Fun, fun, fun. Now I have to get busy making stuff for the upcoming craft shows, because fall will be here before I know it. I got my first application in the mail this week!

16 Candles!

I cannot believe it that Dan is 16! We had a busy evening, with both boys working, then dinner and dessert. Cliff the sock monkey helped to celebrate. Happy Birthday, Dan, and many many more!

Watching the Wheels Go Round and Round...

A visit to the nursing home to see a 94-year-old friend left me with a new perspective. Wow. What a place. She is in a room that represents the last phase of living in a retirement home. It is the "your foot is on a banana peel" and you are waiting for your ticket out area of the place. Sooo incredibly sad. Everyone uses a wheelchair or a walker. Everyone has huge health issues, and most of them are facing it all alone. My friend is still as sharp as a tack, and she is delightfully liberal. I enjoyed our visit, but it gave me a lot to think about in terms of acquiring more "stuff." These folks are down to 1 room and a few possessions. Just don't need 'em or want 'em anymore. They are looking for a different kind of peace.

Son #1 is feeling the sting of growing up in a world that discriminates. He gets it because he is not an academic type, and never will be. He has been made fun of, used, taken advantage of, and left alone, but still he has the sweetest soul imaginable. He wants to be part of the social crowd, and no one will have him. He wants to be part of the electronic age, but finds himself unable to communicate effectively. He cries out for friendship and most turn away. Their loss...

Son #2 is just growing. On top of that, he has shown his integrity this week in the face of a tough situation where he works. If he comes away with nothing else, his dignity and integrity will be in tact. I was so proud when he showed me that he knew what was right and was prepared to do it, without my intervention or advice.

Big life issues. A lot to think about. It is hard, painful, gut wrenching stuff. We all take our turn.

The Smallest Victims of Foreclosure

Today I received a phone call from an acquaintance--a wonderful lady, whose friend is going through a divorce and the foreclosure of her home. This woman is in her 70's and is relocating to public housing. She can only bring one of her 3 cats with her. She asked if I would take the other 2. They were a male and a female, 8 and 9 years old. The former husband cannot keep them because now he has no place to live, and will be living in his van.

I am overcome with sadness for this woman. I cannot imagine having to decide which of my pets to keep and which to get rid of. I am overcome with sadness for these 2 pets, who now have no place to live. What must they think? They've done nothing wrong. They've been wonderfully faithful and loving companions for many years. They are "good kitties."

I spent the entire afternoon in turmoil about this request and in our decision process. We already have 7 cats, and as a family we decided not to take these two. I feel incredibly sad. I feel incredibly guilty. I don't know how I will sleep tonight.

The truth is, we spend enormous amounts of money on our cats every year. Thousands of dollars are needed each year for their care. Their vet care is expensive. Their food is expensive. Their cat litter is expensive. One sees a cardiologist. One has 2 autoimmune disorders and needs medication. Another has allergies and needs medication. Two have dental issues. We feel that the house is full and that we are stretched enough financially with the kitties we have already. It may not be fair to the ones we have to stretch ourselves any thinner.

Then why do I feel so bad about the decision we made? Because I feel that there should always be room for one more. There should always be room "in the inn." My Catholic upbringing taught me to accept whatever God sends and he will provide. Did I just turn away two souls who needed me? Was it some kind of test? Was I meant to make the difference for this family and these two kitties?? Or, did I do the right thing and save my family from financial hardship, and my kitties from the stress of getting used to 2 new siblings? Tough call. I can never know for sure, and I am tormented by it all.

All I know is that the smallest victims of foreclosure have no say in it at all. They are the ones I really feel sorry for. I will pray for them.