Decluttering

Twenty bags of "stuff" have gone out of this house in the last 3 weeks or so. These are kitchen-sized bags, dropped off at the Goodwill in hopes of making space in this overcrowded house. For some reason, I am in a major mood to get rid of things. I am feeling closed in by the clutter.

There are so many things we do not need or use in this house, so why is it so hard to get rid of it all? One reason is a packrat hubby who likes to hold onto things for all kinds of reasons. Another reason is just inertia. It is tough to go through old junk, and it is even harder to find the time to do it all. It is hot, heavy, dirty, emotional work.

I am starting a pile for consignment. Hopefully, there is value in some of this old stuff~old dishes and old silver, pitchers, art work, suitcases, and fancy platters. Other piles will go to charities and yet others are to be thrown out.

The trick from now on is to bring less in, or to try the "one thing in-one thing out" rule. Buy less, have less, be tied down by less. It really makes me wonder why we bought it all in the first place.

Socks!

I am so happy to have discovered sock knitting. It has become quite a habit, of late! I never thought I would be a sock knitter. I thought it was impractical, expensive, and the thought of knitting on such tiny needles was daunting. I thought the yarn was too skinny too. I was afraid to try it-never quite understood the allure of it all.

Then along came an illness and subsequent surgery right before last Christmas. A dear friend,Becky, knitsandspins on Ravelry,took it upon herself to make me the most thoughtful Christmas package ever. Even my family members have never given me such wonderful gifts. Inside were lots of amazing things. I remember crying for most of the day I received it. I was bowled over by her kindness to me. I will never, ever, forget it. One of the gifts was a pair of hand-knitted socks, made by Becky. I had never had a pair, never worn a pair. I put them on, and was amazed. Not only were they beautiful, they were perfectly crafted, warm, and amazingly comfortable. They gave me comfort when not much else could. I wore them for days, and still wear them every chance I get. I love those socks! They are a symbol of a lot of things to me: friendship, kindness, beauty, healing, warmth, generosity, and love.

It is because of those socks, and because of Becky's encouragement, that I started to knit socks. Other Ravelry friends have encouraged me too, and I love them for that! Puggerhugger, Manitoba2ct, and others have sent me sock yarns and sock books, and have answered questions along the way. But, if it weren't for Becky, and that first pair of wonderful socks, I would never be enjoying my latest knitting habit!

I Need to be Knitting!

It is that time of year whenI need to start plugging and chugging, as they say, to get ready for fall/winter craft shows. This year it is harder to get moving, because I have discovered socks and want to make them constantly! I also want to do more beaded knitting and designing, all of which take mega blocks of uninterrupted time. I suppose I will have to treat this like a job, and schedule in at least 4-5 hours a day in order to meet my goals. I am hoping to do 5 shows this season, God willing! Last year, I had to cancel 2 due to health problems. It had been my best season, and I know I lost out on at least $1000. I have my fingers crossed that this year will go well,that is, if I can get moving!

Two Good Memories of Mother

Two good memories of Mother:

Your hands washing my hands when they were small.
You went round and round with the soap, gently parting each finger,
As if each was important.


You watching the geese fly at the change of seasons:
Running first to the window and then out the door,
To see the beautiful V, indeed divine.


Copyright: Mary Skeen, March 2009

My Healing Kitty

I call my cat Charlie my "healing kitty." He is so incredibly wonderful. Always sweet, he never thinks of scratching, biting, or being bad in any way. He is beautiful through and through. He is the first kitty I have ever had that I got to pick myself and actually call my own. He has helped me work through past hurts, just by being so loving.

When I was growing up, I always wanted a cat. When I was 6, I had a kitten, Bootsie, who got squished by my dad's car after 3 days. Two years later, we adopted the neighbor's cat, Minky, when they moved. She was old at the time and was never very cuddly or interactive. When I was a teenager, we had neighbors who had a gorgeous Maine Coon cat that they neglected. They let her outside and she had litter after litter of kittens. Being the cat lover that I am, I would try to play with them. One adopted me when I was about 16. Her name was Muffy. She was incredibly beautiful. She had the Maine Coon fur-white with calico markings, and the Maine Coon temperament, alot like Charlie's. She was gentle and sweet, and mostly she just loved me. My parents allowed her to visit only, but I would sneak her in to my bedroom after school and on cold nights. Otherwise, she would be left to huddle against our house. The first time I found her there, nearly frozen, I vowed I would keep her close to me, no matter what the folks said. She visited me every day until she became more or less mine. I asked the neighbor permission to keep her, and it was granted. My parents seemed ok with it. Oh, how I loved her! She was incredibly loving and beautiful. We gave each other comfort. I gave her warmth and love,and she gave me the same at a time when living at home was really hard. I had her for about 9months, and then one day I came home from school and she wasn't there. My mother had decided to give her to the Avon lady on a whim~without telling me, and she refused to get her back. I remember crying, pounding on my father's chest to please get her back. Nope. I remember grieving for her, wondering why my mother had been so cruel to take her away from me for no reason. When I called the lady who took her to inquire about how she was, she was vague and indifferent. I cried for weeks. Two weeks went by and I finally found out Muffy's fate. Soon after she was given away, she was hit by a car and died. I will never forget the pain I felt, and to be honest, if I think about it long enough, I still feel it.

Charlie is so much like Muffy in stature, feel, and temperament. He is mine, all mine, and no one will ever take him from me except for God. That will be an incredibly sad day, one I don't want to think about. He has been such an incredible gift, my little rescue guy. How lucky I am to have found him. He is such a blessing.

Thrifting!

Thrifting is an amazing thrill. I go as often as I can for as many bargains as I can. Yesterday, at a church sale, I got 2 dresses at $2 each, plus, a mug for $1 that I know retails for $16. I also came home with 2 pins, each a good price. Then, today, I hit the jackpot at the nearly new sale. I got a bunch of yarns for an amazing price, plus some sewing notions. I hope to go a few more days this week to catch the bargains on less busy days. We shall see...

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.