Taoknitter2

...erg..schniggle..schnarf...snarf...gnashing of the teeth...

2008-03-03T14:51:00.000-08:00

Have I ever said how

MUch, much, much

I, I, I

HATE

DETEST

ABHOR

and truly, truly

DESPISE

READING KNITTING CHARTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I try, I get them figured out...I think...and then somewhere, somehow...I f**k them up.

Can't help it. Knitting charts make me feel this loopy:

That is truly me at the end of what-should-be-a-relaxing-evening-of-knitting when I have to use a knitting chart. You should be in on my psychedelic torture dreams after one of these anxiety-inducing evenings.

Write it out, you say? Tried that....that's just as bad, maybe even worse.

Every time I use a knitting chart I freaking re-invent the pattern...thank gawd for pics of the finished objects or I would be hopelessly lost.

WHY? Well, the symbols are never quite the same from pattern to pattern, the logic of the arbitrary symbols is almost ALWAYS the opposite of mine, the teenytinylittlefreakingboxes are really the stuff of nightmares for me....and I just do. NOT. learn. that. way, gawdblessamerica!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So...what am I doing? Debbie Bliss' Silver Belle. Wish I could post the pattern, but everything I find is down. Thank goodness I already saved the pdf...I think they are going to try to charge for it now...

Gorgeous sweater...I know, Mom, you want to see what I am aspiring to, but I am being thwarted here.

So glad the repeats are consistent...soon I shall BURN, BURN, BURN these charts.

So here is the SLOW progress...actually, the red you see is from what I would call my tutorial swatch...I cast on all the stitches and got busy with the chartfromhell. When my yarn came in, I frogged the red back to the 1st row and am using that as a provisional cast-on...I already hate the hem so will use my new favorite knit picot cast-off when I am done. (If you are feeling a very cranky vibe in this post, yes, it is me...)

The yarn is a beautiful merino (64%), angora (10%), nylon (24%), and metallic (2%) blend from Rowan Yarn/Webs. Love it, love it...though it is not as purple as it looks here.

So, here I am taking pics after a long, braincellsucking, eyeballexhausting day of digitizing, and the oldest diva comes in, looks into my creative space, pics up the gestating object, and asks rudely, "What the hell is this?"

My divas really are so lucky sometimes that I am not a slapper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I tried to explain, but not being a knitter, all she could do was harrumph.

Here we go...more markers than I think I have ever used...Molly really could not understand the red...

The color is really showing all wrong. The yarn is a beautiful plum color...I know all monitors are different, but this is close on mine.

So, I think 11 hours working on the computer is good enough...off to screw around with this CHARTFROMHELL again.

mwah!

Lacy 2-layer Cloche is done

2008-02-20T17:22:00.000-08:00

I have been contemplating several cloche patterns lately, so imagine my surprise when my experiment took on a cloche shape! Molly & Meave were home at a decent hour this afternoon, so even though I made this for Maggie, they modeled it first. I put in on Meave first, and Molly says,"Hey, that looks like a flapper hat!" "Yes, dear child, it is called a cloche." The rest of the conversation had to do with french and bells and that she MIGHT actually wear something like this...

First Meave... (this was actually taken later after Maggie got home because she NEEDED to take one more pic...but it is my favorite...messy face and all. She slapped it on her head just right and stated she was wearing this to school tomorrow. Maggie said she was going to have to fight her for it.)

Those big brown eyes just make me want to eat her up!!! Sometimes I just can't stop hugging and kissing her...and then there is a big sigh right before she says, "Okay Mama, I love you, but you can stop now..."

Just had to cut up for the camera at least once...

Now for the oldest diva...she is so comfortable in front of a camera! I am starting to understand why photographers like doing this...a good model is fun to take pics of!

She has her mass of hair put up, so the hat sits back, but she likes this, too. So far, it is 2 for 2 in the opinion poll.

Finally, the Diva Maggie has arrived home. She is tired, cranky, hungry, irascible...but she likes the hat, believe it or not!

Her blue extensions match! Yes, my 12 year-old has blue extensions...these are on the sparse side now. She really does not ask for much, so when she requested these for her birthday, I gave them to her.

Meave has now demanded one of these for herself. Damn, I was hoping to go off to something else....

There is a bit more about this hat at the end of Knitting...& another experiment .

Knitting...& another experiment

2008-02-18T16:30:00.000-08:00

I LOVE this photo...this will be reproduced in a large size and planted on my rogue's wall...

Some day my daughters will go on their merry way...they will have lives that are wildly successful the way they want them to be...they will define themselves...and I will have amazing pics like these on my wall. They will have to SOOOOOOOO deal with it!!!

Ok, after this experiment: Ice Queen Wimple - I tried again. Totally different yarn than this pattern was designed for and I added a cable in between the pattern repeats. Wanted it to be warm for Susan’s early morning bus duty and wanted to add something Celtic…so, I made it with a warmer yarn, tighter tension, and a cable just ‘cause I felt like it!!!

Finally done and blocked..pics of the divas messing around as usual…
Obviously not as lacy as the original pattern…

Above Molly has tucked in the lower collar in a way I would not have thought of...

Good cowl look.

And here we see how it is made to keep the chest & shoulders warm. No need for a scarf.

And the length added to keep things even at the back when the hood is pulled up is accomplished by adding short rows into the patterns. Have I ever said how much I hate short rows? It is weird enough having to figure out which method to use so holes don't show when working only in stockinette, but figuring out how to integrate them into this pattern was a challenge. I did get it to work, and the only way you might know they are there is if you are one of those that find the shortness at the back of these tube-hoods when it is pulled up over the head as annoying as I do...notice there is no pulling which would be shown by the back being shorter than the front. In fact, I think it might even be a bit longer in the back! Mission accomplished!

So, I am determined to make some things work...for myself. Above, the short rows take care of weirdness inherent in a hood that must come up over the back of a head. Below, I am trying a two layer hat for both color and warmth. First I knit the under cap in blue...

...crocheted on the new multi-colored green...

...crocheted a chain through both layers to make it easier for me to knit the correct number of rows for the outside lacy cap...and the pattern had already created this scalloped edge! So cool! I used a feather and fan pattern like the hood above. Did not mean to use the same pattern, but when I looked at lace pattern ideas, it jumped out at me before I realized it was the same.

Maggie asked for a green and blue hat...

I hope she will like this cloche hat idea.

Ice Queen Wimple

2008-02-01T11:44:00.000-08:00

So here's the pattern: Ice Queen. Easy pattern to get into a groove with. A bit more about this one here: Susan's Wimple...

As usual, I messed with it a bit. I wanted it wide enough at the bottom to cover the shoulders, so I started with larger needles and looser tension on the yarn, then switched to smaller needles, choked up on the tension, and decreased a bit more. Even though I had a good pattern, I frogged a couple of times for one reason or another. Still, it ended up being a little too “fitting” around the neck for Susan, so I am giving this to a Diva with a little neck. Tired of frogging this sucker! (See “Froggin' a Flop for the evolution of this project.)

Here we have Diva Maggie modeling the wimple with the appropriate demeanor...she asked "What the hell is a wimple?" as I was putting it on her. (Yes, my lovely daughter swears...like a sailor...but that is a story for another day.) I did not explain very well, just mumbled something about nuns and covering the hair, modesty...so I arranged the hood in a more wimple-like fashion as part of my explanation and she gave me the pose above.

Now, I have a problem with the way these tubes fit since our faces are not directly on the TOP of our heads! They pull down in the back on me, and I find that really irritating. So, I integrated short rows to add more curve to the back of this hood. The short rows worked very well. Once I figured out how to integrate them into the pattern so nothing looks amiss, it was quite easy. I may add a few more on the next wimple for Susan so that it can rest more easily on the head without the pull down the back.

Here is the side view of the nun-configuration of the wimple. Hanging pretty well in the back.

Here we have Miss Mags back in truer form, attitude glowing because she is really not happy with me at the moment...tried to arrange going out with the "girls" tonight like she's a teenager and I am her chauffuer...NOT happening. The wimple is pulled back into a more typical wearing place.

And here you can see it hangs even more evenly in the back.

These next pics are only to show that I still have the touch...

Pic on the left is her refusal to smile just 'cause I asked and because Diva attitude must rule. Pic on the right is proof that Mama can still pry a good smile out of her whether she likes it or not! Mama rules!!!

As you can see, it is an interesting shape because of the short rows. The end that fits around the head looks very odd in the pic, but I think it is because it is folded so the top/middle scallop seems to sit back from the 2 below it.

I really like this pattern and the scallops it creates at the bottom.

I also really like this particular picot bind off. Definitely not a fast bind off, but very pretty. The directions for this bind off can be found in the pattern itself.

"You make my Day!"

2008-01-30T05:38:00.001-08:00

It is not often that I hear that. I usually hear, "Are you really gonna start MY day like THAT?! Go back to bed!" from my husband.

So Kathy, thank YOU...'cause that made my day!

Kathy, from Knitting Weather, has given me this award:

I love going to her blog to see the newest beautiful knitted piece that she has created and to see the photos of the scenery she is surrounded by. She writes in a quiet way...I think I would be calmer if I lived where she does...gorgeous.

I am now supposed to pass this award on to 10 more people. Even counting Kathy's blog, I do not think I am drawn consistently to ten blogs. I read all sorts of things, but it is a rare blog that captures my loyalty. Too many of them are narcissistic and self-conscious...that bugs me. Many are just plain boring and that's...boring. And the few others that I like just don't get updated that often.

So, in alphabetical order, these are the places that I go & why. One thing that can be said of them all is that they are written by kind people who all possess very giving natures. These are people I wish I could have coffee with once a week:

Chasing Bunny - Peggy is an absolutely stunning knitter. The way she troubleshoots, figures things out and changes patterns is amazing to me. It seems very mathematical which I truly appreciate. I am always inspired by what she accomplishes...and she does it all with 2 young boys at home!! She seems very patient...and she definitely has more energy than me!

Kate Quilts - Kate makes Irish dance dresses, knits, AND quilts. We have started a quiet friendship through email exchanges...we understand one another, I think. I have learned more than a few things about Australia through her letters, and one of these days I am going to visit!

Lazy Kate - Another Kate...or Katie, like my sister. Katie and I are great pen-pals! Something will set one of us off and there might be 6 or 8 long missives passed between us! I love it. She is very smart, has a wicked sense of humor, and rivals my own sister Kate for her grasp on the true art of snarkiness! She does not post terribly often...I keep waiting to see more of the medieval costuming that she does...hint, hint...

Megamaid - Meg is one of those truly gentle souls that just kind of glow. I actually get to spend time around her every once in a while, and I always enjoy it immensely. She is writing more and more on her blog these days and I love getting to know her and her family. She is also a poet...I was so touched by a poem she wrote a while back which is saying something as I do not usually tune in very well to poetry. Even her emails have good vibes!

Megsdance Mumblings - This Meg is an extremely interesting person...smart, driven in a quiet way, involved...because of her line of work, she does not seem to be able to tell us all she might like. I met her when we made her Irish solo dress, and we had some great conversations whenever I got to see her. She is a very positive force in the bizarre cult of Irish dance.

Picperfic - I "met" Marianne when I stumbled upon her blog...she is another amazing knitter and an incredibly talented photographer. Just like Meg's poetry, Marianne's photos click with me. I have learned so much about her through her art. She is such a wonderful, giving person...if she didn't live way on over in England, I think we would be phone buddies! She is planning her wedding to Barry, a man whose love shines through her descriptions of their life together. It is so lovely getting glimpses of a life that finally makes her happy!

Unexplored Territory - This woman, Meredith, makes me laugh! We are long lost siblings, twins separated at birth...a decade or so apart...we really have the same birthday! She does have a knitting blog, (we also "met" because of the knitting) but it is this blog about her family that keeps me in stitches! She expounds hilariously upon all things...nothing is sacred which so helps to put my own life in perspective. This woman is a young Erma Bombeck.

So that's 8 blogs...it works for me.

"When Knitting is Heroic..."

2008-01-28T13:47:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is a good one...just for a chuckle.

When Knitting Is Heroic; No Yarns of Danger Could Deter This Old Lady.

New York Times

March 15, 1908, Sunday
Section: MAGAZINE SECTION, Page SM3, 666 words

COMING up from Washington to New York one day a woman was seen to make herself comfortable in one of the big chairs in the parlor car, and when the train was well under way she proceeded to take out some pretty silk knitting work, which would seem an ideal occupation for a journey of a few hours, as it involves no eye strain and gives one joyous sense of time well spent. [ END OF FIRST PARAGRAPH ]

The rest of the article is here.

Maggie's Felted Hair

2008-01-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

Can you see it?

It's alive!!! It truly has a mind of its own... and eyes and teeth!

She says it is her friend!

This thing...this...this...creature...it appears daily. I kid you knot...er, not. We use conditioner, we banish it every morning. If we do not brush her hair at night, this is what has materialized the next morning. There is a small one when she gets back from school...and we should take the time to detangle it, but we so hate the process that we ALWAYS conveniently forget. This one was a determined bugger - we had put her hair in a ponytail to try to stave it off, but it appeared anyway. Above and below the hair elastic...INSIDE the hair elastic. It's demonic...

Cut it off, you are thinking. Yeah...I threaten to do just that everytime we sit down for the hour ordeal of getting it out. But I can't do it. Long hair is just Maggie. Besides, she needs it for Ado Annie. And when it is brushed, she has the most beautiful waves with curls around her face.

We used to use Aussie Knot Forgotten. Brilliant stuff. She could comb her hair out in the shower. But the morons discontinued it and it cannot be found anywhere.

I am sitting here writing this because I don't want to go sit over there and work on that creature.

Anyone know of a magic bullet to kill this thing with?

Susan's Wimple...

2008-01-27T12:26:00.000-08:00

...or smoke ring...or cowl. (By the way...Susan, if you are ignoring me and looking at this post...GO AWAY!!!)

I finally gave up on my attempts to be creative...setting myself a goal to create a pattern seemed to doom it to the nether regions of hell. So, I finally found one that I like: Ice Queen. There are no beads in this one...those tiny, rolly, shifting buggers would only make me crazier than I am. Eew, eew, ick...fuzzy yarn is as far as I go on the tiny stimulation spectrum.

So here is the progress...

I am liking this. I am messing with the pattern (as usual). I want it to cover the shoulders so I started with a larger needle size and a loose tension on the yarn. Now that I am moving into the part that will cover the head, I have switched to a smaller needle, tightened the yarn tension, and I will decrease a bit more than the pattern calls for.

So far, so good.

Mumblings...

2008-01-27T07:36:00.000-08:00

I know, I haven't been posting much. Busy finishing my last Irish dance solo dress...taking a break from the solos to concentrate on a new school account. Totally new dresses for an established school...many dresses to get done.

Busier than normal with this last solo because they wanted it for the dancer's first feis after her 6 month ban (she transferred schools). Still waiting to hear how she did.

All is well here. Everyone's busy...nothing funny to tell...

I know, Mom, my assignment was to write about your grandchildren. They are the same...bossing each other around, poking, prodding, teasing, amusing & irritating the hell out of each other. Then they sit together and watch a movie or "Ugly Betty" and they discuss it like an academic gaggle of dweeb adults...hearing Meave expound upon the psychological impulses of a wild, drugged Betty was rather mind-blowing. Where did these children come from?

Molly continues to develop into a stage manager extraordinaire; Maggie is getting into the swing of "Ado Annie" and enjoying the rehearsals (having to act like a "girl" is interesting); and Meave is having issues with working so diligently on her school work that she is behind because she is too SLOW getting things done!!!! Her attention to detail is slowing her down. Thank goodness her teacher recognizes the irony. This weekend Meave is finishing a project that she should have finished in school. Interesting "problem."

I am coherent today. Thinking about the coming week and contemplating cleaning my sewing dungeon today.............................NOT!

Froggin' a Flop

2008-01-18T06:19:00.000-08:00

I have been working on a Christmas present for Susan for a long time now. She basically knows what it is, and she is waiting patiently.

I know what I want, but none of the patterns I have or have found do the specific thing that I want, so I have been experimenting. I have ripped this sucker out 4 times already. But I thought I was on to something and had finished 2/3 of what I thought might be a masterpiece...until I tried it on...

Mug shot.

True colors.

The divas were in stitches (ar, ar)! Molly could barely focus her eyes or the camera because she was laughing so hard there were tears. They all declared this a flop.

So did I...so I frogged it all last night, and I will begin again tonight. I will get this done, Susan!!!

Happy New Year!!!

2007-12-31T07:38:00.000-08:00

Happiest New Year to One & All!

To my family, Susi et al, Susan, Gina, Ali, Marianne, Meredith, Peggy, Kate, Kathy, MM, Meg, and all my other friends...love and kisses and prosperity in the New Year!

Thank you for reading my blog and sharing with me. I wish you all the best in the coming year!

My Beautiful Divas

2007-12-29T13:02:00.000-08:00

I have a rogue's wall in my entryway with great pics of the divas, but the newest of them was taken in 2002. In passing, I said something about needing new portraits of the divas.

Guess what I got for Christmas!

Frame after frame of the most wonderful photos of my beautiful daughters. As I looked upon the 3rd unwrapped gift, I cried, of course...Maggie gets up under my face to see if there are actually tears and then stands up to yell, "You were right, Daddy! She's crying!"

They got creative...

Now before you go on, there is a context. When we were all home in California back in 2002, we decided to take pics of all the Halligan grandkids for my parents.

Meave was just turned 2 at the time, and she was an angel during the VERY long photo shoot. The older brats were having way too much fun, so getting them all to smile nicely at the same time was an exercise in maternal patience...thank goodness each set of siblings is rather wary of a different aunt so we managed through fear and intimidation...

Then we got to taking photos of just the sets of siblings...

...and Meave was SOOOOOO over it! We would get her sitting up and smiling, and then before every single shot, she would hit the deck. I finally told the photographer to just take it...take it dammit! This was as good as it was gonna get...my dad got a big kick out of this. As you can see in the pic, Molly thought it was funny and Maggie was sure someone was in big trouble.

So, Michael and the girls re-visited this theme...

First there was the happy pic with the teddy bears.

Then the respective divas hitting the deck...

I love this!

And then one last statement...

I so love them!

Meave's Cardi

2007-12-29T13:00:00.000-08:00

Finished the cardigan last night. No pattern. Yarn is Patons SWS (Soy Wool Stripes). Very soft.

Meave wanted to wear it, so I did a fast steam block for pics, but it needs real blocking. Hoping the things that are bugging me (like the sleeve length) will go away with blocking. But, the diva loves it and that is all that matters!

The kid has been paying way too much attention to Maggie...I actually have to ask for a nice smile to get one!

The Pinwheel and an Arm-Thingy

2007-12-23T12:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, previous posts about these, but they are both done now, so new pics and a few thoughts.

And...I am in possession of a luxury...TIME! My house is clean, clean, CLEAN for Christmas, things are already set up for the family dinner on Christmas day...I even have spotless bathrooms! So, I can sit here and write this post without feeling guilty about one single thing!

I am feeling a bit giddy...

Anyway, the knitting...

In a previous post about this sweater, I lamented that it seemed to be growing. I was wrong. I did make it bigger on purpose, but my perception that it was a fluid and changing creation was a tic in my...whatever-that-is-that-makes-me-crazy. It has actually maintained its original length and its shape. Must be the silk spun into the wool. Amazing.

Molly wears this constantly...which is an immensely gratifying thing. Sometimes she wears it long....

...and sometimes she wears it short (and she flips it in this practiced, bizarre way that left me shaking my head).

And here is the Youngest Diva's Arm Thingy (as she dubbed it).

The kitty jammies from Grandma Dodo are such a hit that she wears them constantly.

Here we tried a different facial EXPRESSION!

Cables and some weird moss stitch I got myself tangled in. Should say here that this is a "pattern" (so-to-freakin'-speak) out of my own head, which means there is NO pattern, I just went with the flow...

This is the crocheted edge which ended up being wider than I planned because Junior said it felt too short during a "fitting." Now she's happy.

Diva happiness is what I live for...

Merry, Merry Christmas!!

2007-12-23T05:56:00.000-08:00

I hope this holiday season is peaceful and happy for all!

May you count your blessings and be glad!!!

Happy Birthday, Maggie!!!!

2007-12-21T16:54:00.000-08:00

Middle Diva Maggie is 12 years old today.

What a trip...I am beginning to feel like time is snowballing. How did 12 years go by so fast?

I was pondering my divas not too long ago, and happened upon a few family truisms. When I was pregnant with Molly, only hard candies made from juice even remotely settled my stomach (sick as a dog for 8 out of the 9 months...I am not kidding that it started the second that cell divided and lasted until she was born except for 1 month in the middle wherein I thought I was SAVED!). She was born in the morning, and smiled a real grin at 3 weeks. She is still a grinning, early-rising carb freak!

Meave (the 3rd and last) was an unbelievably easy pregnancy...quite frankly, I might have more if the first 2 had been like her. Very little sickness, and what there was easily quelled by crackers or candy. She was born at night after only 4 hours. She is my omnivore night owl, just like me. And she was the sweetest, most easy going baby I have EVER met.

The middle one, Diva Maggie, was a pistol from the very beginning. She rolled, and stretched, and punched and kicked and generally abused me from about 4 months into the pregnancy onward. I thought that was too early to feel her and attributed it to gas, until it never stopped and it became obvious that it was her. The weirdest thing was that because of the c-section I had with Molly, I could literally feel Maggie's body parts! My abs never healed back together vertically (pretty common, I guess) so as Maggie did her gymnastics, her tiny body parts would take turns sticking through that split. After awhile, as she grew, we began to identify the parts and we would rub them. I swear she made sure her little lower back stuck through there more often than not for a reason!!! Easiest way to put her to sleep after she was born was to rub her lower back!

Maggie's favorite time of day was about 7pm. Most active. Same to this day. She gets her sisters all riled up every night. It is what they do. I tease them and say at least when they were babies, after only 15 minutes of the craziness they would poop and go to sleep! I keep asking when they are going to go do the business and go to bed!

The only thing that settled my stomach with her was saltine crackers and salty protein. She lived on Hebrew National hotdogs for the first 4 years of her life! Screw sugar! And when she is not feeling well (like the past 3 days) she only wants saltines.

Oh, and she was born early in the morning, and guess who is the earliest riser of all...Maggie.

I find all of those connections interesting.

So when I was in labor with Maggie, the epidural really did not work very well. They re-tried it 2 times. By the time the pain got bad, I was over it and too freaking busy to lean over for another. The nurse told me to really push when the pain was bad and that the pain would go away...and it worked! Perhaps biology at its best as this so did NOT work with Meave. But, after a very long labor, doc said the last push was at hand, I bore down and felt her give me one last hard kick on her way out! I am not kidding...that little whipper-snapper gave me a hard sharp wallop inside as she left!!!

That was the beginning of a very interesting, wonderful, off-balance relationship with an amazing, quirky, smart, sharp, random, creative, wacky and awesome kid. One way or another, she kicks me every day. It's why I call her "Sparky." She is a big part of the reason we all laugh everyday.

We love you so very much, Maggie! Happy, happy birthday, kid!

(Maggie's party is tomorrow, so Molly and her friend Ashley [she has become my 4th Diva] made her a tiny cake that Maggie described as a cup for frosting. Must always sing the birthday song and eat sugar on one's birthday. The following pics are from the hilarities...apparently made funnier by the fact that I kept missing the money shot so we had to light the candle for the blow-out 3 times! I never did get that shot...)

That was as close as I got! Time for the fingers!

And frosting on the face!

Happy 12th!

Michael

2007-12-15T11:46:00.000-08:00

That's my husband's name ... Michael.

This pic is of us almost 20 years ago...

I have been talking about him, lately. A lot. Good stuff, which actually so embarrasses him that I usually do not tell him that I have done it.

Over the past week, I have related a recent event enough times to family that I have really focused in on a couple of things.

I have said before that Michael and I were not especially enamored of each other when we first met... or the couple of years after. He was my graduate assistant at Memphis State University...yes, I was his boss. I was a few months younger than he, one of those over-achieving, type-A personalities, and a young few-years-into-her-first-professorship types that (probably) looked for ways to push his proverbial mucho macho buttons! Not that he was an angel... If you ever want to know about watching this young, incredibly buff, gorgeous stud walking the theatre halls with no shirt after a stage combat bout... never mind...

Anyway, I have not gone with Michael to his Christmas office functions for a couple of years...management changed, they pissed me off...whatever...

This year, I again declined Michael's half-hearted invite to the festivities. Then, 10 days before the party, I got a call from Michael's second in command, Vikram:"I know you don't like these things, but..." I told him I would be there.

I was really going to have to finesse this. I had already declined Michael's perfunctory invite in no uncertain freaking terms! So, I waited for a few days past the delivery of my last ID dress, and feigned a "cabin-fever" approach to it , "You know, I think I will go with you to your Christmas party! I SO need to get out!" A lesser woman would have taken his deer-in-the-headlights shock to mean there was another woman...but he bought it.

I was actually excited about this although I had no clue what was happening. My dressing activities were depressing (former-anorexic-now-a-fat-woman choosing clothes...), but I did my theatrical make-up tricks ( I am really good at the make-up), pulled out the cool jewelry (Michael gets me the most beautiful things), and I was ready for the pick-up by one of Michael's coolest employees, Sherrie and her husband...I was the "designated driver" for this little family and Michael had the car.

Great place for the gathering. Lights, trees, garlands, fountains. I recognize basically nobody except for Michael's team as they show up, but all are so friendly. They hear I am Michael's wife and I start meeting all of these new folks because they feel compelled to introduce themselves...my husband is a really great guy.

Sometimes this night I have to poke the other half to introduce me, but for the most part, he is so good about it. He can talk to anybody! I have always admired that. My divas have inherited that. My mother said just the other day that she loves going places with Michael because he draws everybody out.

So the awards start. As I sit there and watch him smile as the folks that he has nominated for awards receive them, it dawns on me that he really hasn't got a clue. There were many awards (my opinion of the company was reversed.)

2 awards left.. Employee of the year. Michael is looking around...he has no clue! Someone else is called and he is cheering.

Last award...I am thinking someone was messing with me...and "THEY BETTER NOT BE MESSING WITH MY HUSBAND" is the thought in my head.

So, it is time for the Manager of the Year award. The big guns up there on the stage start talking about this incredibly cool guy who not only does a great job for the US government, but he looks out for his team. There is no turn-over on this team because of this guy...blah, blah, blah...and my husband is just sitting there, looking casually around to see if he can identify this person...and they call his name. I will never forget that moment as long as I live because it was so clear Michael did not know that they were talking about him... he cocked his head and did a full-body stutter, if that makes sense.

The whole room was hootin' and hollerin'. I will always remember his smiling face. His humility was radioactive...you can't fake that stuff.

The rest of the night, I watched him turn his honor back onto the folks that he truly feels make his job work. And I watched them all hand back the love. I was cornered time and again by folks who needed to tell me what a great guy I was married to...here is a story about Michael...

One of his teammates (that's what he calls them) is from China. She had twins just over a year ago. She had some major health issues and Michael went to bat for her over some disability stuff with the insurance company.

One day a while ago, Michael comes home and tells me that this woman, Sharon, had taken her twins to China so her parents could take care of them/raise them.....my head swiveled 'round in disbelief a couple of times, and Michael says (in true Maggie fashion), "Shitty, right?"

Next update, Michael has told her she needs to go back to China to get her children because he can see that this is not good for Mama...and she comes back within the month with her babies.

I cried...Michael cried...parents without their babies is not natural!

So, this awards night, Sharon cannot try hard enough to make me understand that my husband Michael is her hero.

I need to tell him that he is my hero.

Stud muffin.

1859 Toddler Socks

2007-12-14T05:28:00.000-08:00

One of the seamstresses in my Irish Dance Dressmaking group posted a link about a dress, and because I love historical costuming, I went snooping around and found this: 1859 Toddler Socks.

I might have to try to make these socks as a historical exercise. Fantastic!

Ado Annie!!!

2007-12-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

Maggie's intermediate school does a musical every year. They do a bang up job!

Anyway, Maggie has worked very hard on her singing and her acting (with her dad) so that she could have a chance at a lead part this year in "Oklahoma!". Apparently she blew the teachers away! Every time I saw her teacher or talked to the counselor or her tutor and even the principal, I was told how difficult this decision was going to be because there were 2 girls at the top of the pack...wink, wink...Maggie was one of them.

She wanted Ado Annie...and there was call-back after call-back...this process went on for so long that I just assumed she would get at least a face-time role. She came out of rehearsal yesterday and just had to yank my chain...

"Well, did you get a part?"

"No..."

"WHAT?"

"Just kidding! I'm Ado Annie!!" She was so excited!!! I am so excited for her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After the announcement, one of her teachers took her out into the hallway to ask her if she was happy with her role. Maggie made it very clear that she was thrilled. The teacher was glad, and went on to tell her that it was a hard decision. She said they had basically decided to give her Lori, but that after her last audition last week she was so funny as Ado Annie that they changed their minds!

Even though Maggie would have been thrilled with Lori (as we all would have been), she relished the chance to be an off-kilter character. It is a quirky character for a very quirky kid!

Congratulations, my beautiful girl! We are very proud of you!

Another found object...

2007-12-05T08:45:00.000-08:00

Meave found this hat I made a while back...another for the gallery.

Christmas Parade 2007

2007-12-01T14:09:00.000-08:00

We have lived here for almost 12 years, and we have never been to the hometown Christmas parade. Well, Diva Maggie was in it today with the chorus from her school, so off we went.

Here she is with her friend Haley.

Felt like I had 4 daughters today...and Haley has red hair like me!

What a hoot this parade was!!! The small-town, Southern roots of this town glowed radioactively today! The parade announcer set the tone almost immediately as he welcomed us in a thick, country accent. Then, he proceeded to give us WAY TOO MUCH information about the judges who each arrived in fancy cars and disembarked none too gracefully in front of the viewing stand. And THEN, instead of turning off the mic, the entire parade audience listened to this man go on & on about how SOMEBODY messed up his organized pile of information....then he would announce another parade participant...and then we would all listen to him grouse some more about how somebody REALLY messed up his papers! After awhile, I tuned him out.

So here follows my pictorial essay on our Christmas parade...I am amusing myself.

First, I must point out one of the spectators. She was across the street from me...

Look carefully at the dog in her arms...

Yes, those are sunglasses. This dog did not move the whole time. I began to wonder if it was stuffed.

Michael and I became confused on our way to the parade. The pick-up for Maggie was supposed to Peabody Street. We parked near Peabody Street even though I thought that was the dumbest pick-up point I had ever heard of as it was at least a mile away from the end of the parade route. We started walking...and walking...I warned Michael that the ol' hips were not going to make this trek back...he grumbled that he had already figured that one out. Here are 2 divas at the beginning of our trek:

...and then off in the distance as I walk too freaking slow...

As we were walking...interminably walking...we passed another Peabody Street...right off the parade route. What is it with Southern folks and their propensity for naming different streets, in different parts of town, on different vectors not even remotely near each other, THE SAME FREAKING NAME!!????!! This was not my experience growing up in California. Michael and I started giggling.

Finally we arrive at what is technically the end of the parade route:

Lovely day, but so freaking cold!

I love the fashion sense at the expense of warmth.

Good viewing spot for the short one.

I love the way they interact.

And the parade begins.

It did not take long to see Maggie's group, though we did not identify her until we saw the back of her head!

Other highlights were as follows...

We had dancers:

We had flags:

We had many fire engines...one with a grown-up sized mascot:

One antique:

We had marching bands:

A few floats...on flat beds and in the back of trucks:

We managed a couple of floaty things...for whatever reson:

...one had its own mascot!

There were horses galore..all followed by their own poop-pick-up!

And cars...and cars...and cars...all driven by old guys:

...I think you get it. Meave wanted to know why there were so many old cars with old guys driving them. I did not have an answer, so she mused that it must be so no one would ever forget them. Smart kid.

We saw over half of the parade. It was so cold that when we left, so had half the audience...I think Santa was greeted by a thin crowd!

6 Degrees of Separation

2007-11-25T05:39:00.000-08:00

My divas get a kick out of talking about who they are "connected" to. Maggie in particular likes to connect the dots...her favorite is the President of Ireland, Mary McAleese. Not only does one of our Irish cousins know her well, she is actually a cousin of ours, not too far removed.

Every once in a while, we go through the fun exercise of how we are connected to famous folks...Uncle Mark was a light guy on tour with Spingsteen, Dylan, and Madonna among others. Grandpa Mick got to know DeNiro because of some consulting work on a movie. My dad knew Mark Harmon's dad, and we even went to his house when I was little...I remember playing with the crawdads in the creek behind his house. We know so many stage combat masters who have worked with so many actors. There are so many actors and celebrities these days, that most folks can probably identify a connection only one or 2 degrees separated.

I have 3 favorites. The first is Clint Eastwood's wife, Dina Ruiz. We went to the same high school...my brother knew her well. My mother babysat her occasionally when she was tiny. I can still see this small, little firecracker with masses of hair.

And then there is Kristi Yamaguchi, the Olympic skating medalist....my sisters and I used to babysit her and her siblings. They lived around the corner. Kristi was about 3 when we met them, this beautiful, tiny little doll. My mother taught one or two of the kids. In fact, her father is my mother's dentist!

But the best one of all was the Sandy on "Flipper!" Remember him? Tall, tanned, good-lookin' dude...not the little freckle-faced boy. Well! He was another cousin... a million times removed, but I did not care! When I was 12, I used to daydream about him (not the stupid dolphin!) saving me if I drowned. {{{big sigh}}}

But all of this pales in comparison to a different kind connection discovered this weekend.

The family went to see "Enchanted" on Friday while I was sewing. As SOON as they got home, Diva Molly comes tearing down the stairs...

"MAMA, MAMA!! Remember when we saw all of those weird creatures in Central Park last summer?!!! That was this movie!!" she squeals.

"And we were THIS CLOSE to McDreamy! Patrick Dempsey, Mama! PATRICK DEMPSEY!!!!!"

The other 2 divas repeated this. Michael and I got a big kick out of how excited they were...that MAYBE we had been within spitting distance of McDreamy...no real connection, just the thought of a supposed, hypothetical, highly unlikely sighting...the divas promptly told all of their friends.

They are such GIRLS!!! Albeit girls with great taste in men...like their mother...who could daydream about McDreamy saving her from drowning...if she were so inclined...in her dungeon...sewing and daydreaming go well together.

'Scuse me, I have work to do in the dungeon....

Meave & Bailey, the dog… and Embroidery

2007-11-10T06:58:00.000-08:00

Adventures with Meave: Meave & Bailey, the dog… and Embroidery

Archives of Knitting News: "Knitting Cure for 'Nerves'"

2007-11-06T06:01:00.000-08:00

I was fooling around, looking for something interesting to read on the internet (I read my morning news on my computer), and it occurred to me that a Knitting News section on Ravelry would be nice. They currently do not have one. So, I started googling knitting news, found something interesting to me in the New York Times...and then noticed that you could search their archives going WAY back for anything you want. So I did.

And I found this (which can be read in pdf here):

(Published: May 11, 1912
Copyright © The New York Times)

KNITTING CURE FOR 'NERVES'

Berlin Doctors Prescribe Practice in Bed to Benefit Women.

By Marconi Transatlantic Wireless Telegraph

to The New York Times.

BERLIN, May 10. -- Knitting in bed as an effective antidote for nervousness is the latest remedy prescribed for women by Berlin's great specialists. Among the distinguished patients who at present are undergoing this novel cure is Mrs. Leishman, wife of the American Ambassador. All accounts agree that the preoccupation and concentration required for needlework when performed in a sitting posture between pillows and coverlets, is working wonders in women afflicted with nerves. They find it vastly more agreeable and efficacious than the ordinary and sometime tedious "rest cure," and it is producing results found unattainable from the old-time "nerve" panaceas.

"Our grandmothers," said a distinguished Berlin woman specialist, commenting on the knitting cure, "were not nervous as a rule. They were placid souls who were not easily ruffled, and were passionate knitters. What is more natural than that we should resort, for nervous women of to-day, to the favorite pastime of our maternal ancestors? I have at present a dozen Berlin society ladies, who are spending from four to six hours a day abed knitting. If possible, I require them to be alone and set themselves a task of accomplishing a fixed amount of work each day.

"Their progress is marked and apparently permanent. They are learning to become fond of knitting and tell me it is the best anti-nervousness cure they have ever tried. It remains to be seen, of course, whether the present effects, which are undoubted, will last."

This keeps bringing on little snorting giggle fits because of the ridiculousness of the quote about our ancestors being placid and not easily ruffled! And what never ceases to amaze me is that women were (and sometimes still are) seen as such fragile, helpless creatures by virtue of their gender. That frame of mind has always fascinated me.

Response: I of course know and agree with this statement: "While it seems ridiculous that women with all the money and time in the world would be afflicted with depression, remember that they lacked status and the opportunity to be anything BUT ornamental and 'useless'." We HAVE come a VERY long way, baby (I really do not need to get started here). For those who see this posting as a denigration of those who suffer from depression, you are reading too much into it; this is a piece of nostalgia, a part of our history as women. There is of course many a rant to be raged about the male-dominated medical profession's treatment of "hysterical women." But my snarky observation (that I removed rather than edit) that the employees of the society matrons described above must have had opinions about the cures, forced or otherwise, is valid. I am not negating the suffering of the priveliged women, but what about the not so priveliged who were subject to their own? About that I am very curious. I do wonder at the thoughts had by the female servants attending to the afflicted...there was a definite delineation between the classes, and did the less priveliged "lie abed" when depression struck? The economic repercussions for that "cure" would be hurtful, I'm sure.

I get it, and I do not need anymore feminist history lessons, thank you very much! I enjoy reading things like this as both a window into social history and as a reminder of the gains people have made...and as an amusing affirmation of what every knitter already knows!!! I put them here for those who enjoy the same.

More archives: "Oh, Eliza, I beseech you, knit no more!!"

(P.S.: Had to share this because I find this stuff so interesting-

K8 said...
By "nerves" think Mrs Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. They had too much time on their hands, and nothing to do or think about but themselves and maybe their children's social advancement. Small wonder they'd become "hysterical", especially if they had other issues going on (which of course at that time would be dismissed or treated in ways likely to make them worse...). For what the traditional rest-cure can do to a person needing completely different treatment, see the chilling story "The Yellow Wallpaper" about a woman with postpartum depression magnified into psychosis by her rest cure. Small wonder knitting was of greater benefit to these women than purely sitting in bed all day, not even allowed to read!

Found a Wiki link...fascinating: The Yellow Wallpaper

Thanks, Kate!)

Knitting Cables without a Cable Needle

2007-11-04T10:30:00.000-08:00

Youngest diva Meave has been sick since Tuesday...viral chest thing, fever, and croup that sounds the way I imagine whooping cough sounds. This past Tuesday night, after her first day of missing school, she crawled into my bed without me knowing. At 2:41 am, she coughed...she loosed the foghorn from hell and scared the bejeezus out of me!!! I was sitting straight up wondering where I should punch first before I realized that that horrendous sound was coming from my little 7 yr-old curled up next to me. She did fall asleep right after that, but I spent the rest of the night listening to her breathe, ready to scoop her up and head to the ER. I have never heard croup that bad and Molly had viral croup that set off asthma several times.

So, the next morning, while I was waiting in the pediatrician's office with the coughing-choking diva, I was knitting as usual. Just the little cabled shrug I am making for her. I was doing what I do (cabling without a cable needle) and this older woman was watching me and declared that in her lifetime of knitting she had never seen that done. I have to admit I was surprised and then said that I never use a cable needle. You would have thought I was committing heresy by the shocked look on her face, and then she said snidely that I obviously have not done anything all that complicated yet.

I was contemplating my polite yet not-so-subtle snarky comeback when the nurse called for my daughter...just as well 'cause the woman looked ready to wrap my circular needles around my neck!!!

It's knitting, not brain surgery!!!!

So that incident spurred me on to this post.

I simply do not DO cable needles. It is just one more thing for me to lose!!! I have 6 pairs of glasses because I lose them between the couch and the bathroom at least 3 times a week...and they return to my plane of reality when they freaking feel like it!

I tried cabling with the needle once, when I decided to do a whole sweater in cables when my father had his heart transplant and hanging in the hospital was our life. Bought one, used it for half of one row...then figured it out differently. I truly could not see the logic when NOT using one was so easy...at least for me.

So this is a pictorial of what I do...for every cable no matter the size. I have no trouble with gauge, or holes or any other demon I read about. It works for me............ so THERE, testy-lady-in-the-waiting-room!

This is my photographer, Diva Maggie. A good diva always gets pics of herself first. Lovely, eh?

This is a 6-stitch, left twisting cable. I think of this differently than patterns write it because I am not putting any stitches onto a cable needle to just hang out front or back. Here are my beginning 6 stitches.

1) Since the first 3 stitches are going to cross over the front (left-twisting), I am reaching to the back for the next 3 stitches.

2) Here I have put my needle thru the 2nd set of 3 stitches...all 6 are still on my left needle.

3) Here I am gathering all 6 stitches under my right thumb in preparation to slide them all off of the left needle (3 stitches are still on the right needle).

4) I have slid them off...the 3 stitches on the right are free while the next 3 on the left are on the right needle.

5) Now I insert my left needle into the 3 free stitches...

6) ...and then pull them across so my needles are now in their correct positions (so sorry for the blur). The 3 free stitches are now in front of the back 3.

7) Next, I transfer the stitches back to the left needle, 1...

...2...

...3...

8) ...and then knit all six off of the left needle as usual. ( sorry for ANOTHER freaking blur...need to talk to my photographer about that blue sugar she uses on her gums...)

And there you have it! A cable.

If I am going to do a right twisting cable, then I am going after the second set of 3 stitches from the front...

...grab them...

... and repeat from # 3 on in opposition. Here I have grabbed the 3 free stitches with my left needle to the back...

I imagine there are other ways of doing this, but this is my habit now. It is fast, I have no extra little needle to lose, and I can even do it only half-looking, you know, when there is some young hot guy on tv that I have to keep my eye on...

Here is another tutorial from WendyKnits...it is the same technique (great minds, and all that!), but you can see what she is doing a bit more clearly...I am sure her photographer was not hopped up on a blue sugar retainer!

Hallowe'en Festivities

2007-11-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

The Hallowe'en Sentinals.

Punk Fairy Diva.

Punk Fairy Castle.

Diva Maggie with her favorite boy and his happy parents.

Diva Molly with cousins Jamie & Holly and friend Michael.

I told the teenagers that if they did not dress up, they were not going trick-or-treating...nothing worse to me than older kids who make no bones about the fact it is ALL about the candy.

Princess Michael...what a guy!!! Takes a secure male to take on this look!!!!

And even lipstick!!!!!

More of the PFD!

PFD with the Horseback-riding Diva Witch.

MIL Grandma Dolores and SIL Debbie.

The crew is ready to hit the town.

It is also Debbie and Michael's birthdays. My divas made the cake.

Happy 16th...again!

Meave's stash.

And the sugar kicks in!

Hallowe'en family portraits....

Molly's face says it all...DONE!

Happy Hallowe'en!!!

2007-10-31T05:15:00.000-07:00

Happy Hallowe'en to all of my Ghoulfriends!!

O' Great Pumpkin...part deux

2007-10-29T05:38:00.000-07:00

(I have found that I so enjoy writing in the morning...better than reading the newspaper. I grab the coffee, hobble to the computer, and enjoy myself...ahhh.)

I had to be gone for the pumpkin carving festivities...2 clients and fabric hunting. I asked Michael to make sure he took pics. He had the nerve to look at me like I was asking for his kidney which meant he got an even more potent hairy eyeball back plus some grousing. He took them.

When I went to look, there were, once again, these experimental masterpieces by diva Maggie. Pics like these are in every picture file I have, even the dressmaking files. I never see her take these. They just appear.

Now on to the carving festivities... the young boy is our neighbor Ivan.

Notice the seed teeth?

Michael gave Ivan his pumpkin to carve.

The artists at work.

The monsters with their creations.

You'd think there was inbreeding at work here, wouldn't you?

O' Great Pumpkin, what a glorious tribute!!!

O' Great Pumpkin...

2007-10-28T06:12:00.000-07:00

(Caution...Mama whining ahead...)

We finally got pumpkins yesterday at the behest of Diva Meave. We were hassled, cajoled, pleaded with, black-mailed, manipulated with hugs & kisses, and finally just whined at until I took her (& Maggie) to get them. The kid is relentless!!!

I am very behind on our usual decorating activities...so busy with the ID dresses that have to be done for the Southern Region Oireachtas that the time got away from me. Bad Mama!!

Grandma and Aunt Debbie and the kids are coming over for Hallowe'en...and my house is a mess. Actually, mess is too mild and kind a word. Susi, I am in hell!

We are a messy family...a slight adjustment to my blog description states it correctly: "My mother has always excused our chaos by saying it is a sign of creative minds...works for me." She is amazed by our chaos, but she is also amazed and very appreciative of how creative, involved, and happy my divas are...sometimes in spite of their parents!!!

But right now the mess is out of hand. Having company does kick me in the butt. And, I realized yesterday, when we found out we had been designated as the clan trick -or-treat house, that having company kicks the divas in their respective booties, too. The call for a house cleaning today came not from me but from Molly. All are prepared to work...after the pumpkins are carved.

Hey Mom! Coming for Christmas with Auntie Sheila and the new baby would set rocket boosters on this fine rear-end!!!!!

The mess gets to me, too. The smallest thing will finally send me over the edge. Yesterday, it was hair brushes...MY hair brushes...the ones that are supposed to be off limits but seem to have legs that take them off into the nether world...every freaking day.

Yesterday, this not only chapped my ass, it flayed my skin, stripped my bones, drew and quartered me, boiled it all in oil, set it on fire, and then slapped it all back on my VERY LAST NERVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHY CAN'T THEY LEAVE MY BRUSHES, EVEN JUST ONE, WHERE I CAN FIND THEM WHEN I WANT THEM???!!!!

Yesterday, doing my hair was to be a special, wonderful moment for me. You see, I am back to looking like myself. I have this itch that I get about once every 2 years to cut my hair off. I fall once again into the profound delusion that a short hip hair cut will not only look good on me, but that it will also be easier. NOT! You have to have a cute little round face on a cute little round head with a cute little round perky personality to pull off the kind of hair-do that I want in my fantasy world. I do not...I have a big ol' horse head with a long ol' face and a decidedly NOT perky personality...and short hair makes it all worse! All you see is a LONG face accompanied by irritated crankiness! And then, once I have completely horrified myself with my stupid choice (once again) I spend the next year growing it out so I can finally get back to the bob that looks good on me. My hairdresser, Kayelynn, now has notes in her book on me...next time I come in with that short hair bee up my butt, she is to stand her ground and remind me that it will not look good and that I will then have to deal with the dreaded "Mushroom Head" as I grow it out.

I am also not allowed to go conservative with the hair color. I did that last time and it is SOOOO boring. Yes, I color my hair. After I got sick and my hair grew back in, I had the oddest hair color. My wonderful light, bright red hair was gone and in its place grew this weird alien color. That's what I get for proclaiming myself beyond the vanity of hair-coloring when I was young and arrogant. Stupid girl! Now I say, Bring it on!!!! I am a dark red with lots of bold, light red highlights. Coloring my hair makes me a happy camper!!

And then the hair cut. The bob is back...short, but present. I look like myself once again.

So, yesterday...I went to do the 'do...and the necessary brushes were nowhere to be found. Again. I flipped a lid. Why is it that when I ask nicely for my brushes I simply get an "I dunno" with no eye-contact, but when that lid is flipped, I have 4 brushes in 10 seconds accompanied by high blood pressure and then guilt on my part?

(whiiiine) I just want my brushes to stay in my room because if they join the chaos in this house, they will be lost forever!!! (whiiiiine)

O' Great Pumpkin, hear my plea!!! (The pumpkin carving offerings will come later today...pics then.)

Ok, off to the dungeon...

A Vegetable Victory & A Witch

2007-10-25T21:47:00.000-07:00

When I am working on digitizing (as I have been for about 6 days now), everyone in this wonderful diva family cuts me mucho slack. The work-arounds are not always complimentary to me (which means someone, usually hubby, gets barked at, usually by...well...me), but life freaking continues... if I could use my favorite string of curse words here, I would be SO COMPLETELY FULFILLED...but I cannot. Big sigh.

In the midst of my braincellsuckingcomputerwork, Michael and I have had a couple of school meetings, culminating with a child study meeting yesterday. Today my time on the digitizing computer has been interrupted by so many things, for better or worse.

Tonight, after homework, studying for tests, listening to rehearsal recaps, came dinner...chicken florentine...with spinach. Sometimes I really am so over the fact that I have so effectively TAUGHT my children my gag-reflex distaste for vegetables. They eat more of them than they know because I am so creative with my inclusions...as much for my health as theirs. But tonight, I was not in the mood to whitewash the spinach, figuratively OR literally. So I got to Meave first...told her that the gross green stuff was spinach but that it tasted TOTALLY like the sauce...and she was going to eat it even if it choked her. She looked at me in that demon-child-considering fashion that she possesses...slowly took a bite of ONLY the spinach...and declared it really good. After that, the older divas had to eat it or accept defeat at the hands of their little sister.

They actually came back for seconds.

Later Maggie and I worked through a different homework routine...both of us were calm and happy at the end...cannot even begin to describe how amazing that was!!!

And...then...

Meave came quietly into my work space and requested pics. Last weekend, there was a shopping trip for Hallowe'en...our favorite time and holiday of the whole year. She found an old wig of mine, did her own make-up, and put on her whole, self-organized costume. When I had finished the pics, she asked, "Will you put them on your blog?"

"Is that what you want?"

"YES!"

So, here is Diva Meave in her costume, no help from me...

I think that I am only cracking the tip of this kid...

Just 'cause...

2007-10-24T21:26:00.000-07:00

I sought this post out tonight for someone in my new knitting group, Ravelry (I will do a post on this very soon).

Why re-post? BECAUSE...she understood "Póg mo thóin"...I liked reading about those few days again... it's my blog and I wanted to write something nice...for my...blog...'cause, well.... I FELT like it, ok? But I could not write...so here is something that made me laugh again!!!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

--

Aunt Margaret Stratman, 1935-2007

2007-10-21T19:37:00.000-07:00

My father's sister died in California tonight. She had emphysema and had been in the hospital for the past 2 1/2 weeks.

This is the aunt I wrote about here: Clarity . She will be horribly missed.

I woke up this morning after a very weird dream of her and her cigarettes and her beautiful fingers, and I just knew today was the day. Called my family to get the news...she was still fighting to live. That's my scrappy Aunt Margaret.

Tonight both of my sisters called at the same time to tell me...we are all 3 in different parts of the US and right now that really sucks. My sister Bernie in California was closest to her, and she is taking this hard as obviously my cousins are, too. Wish I was home.

She is not suffering anymore.

Love you, Aunt Margaret.

Narcoleptic comment

2007-10-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

I am butt-stuck to my chair in front of the computer today...3 dresses to digitize. That means I am also here when comments and emails come in which is fun.

I have enjoyed the comments on the Narcoleptic post. Caroline's just came in:

Caroline said...
I've never had it as bad as you, but I do always fall asleep during afternoon classes at the university. It can be the most interesting class ever, but at one point I will bang with my forehead into the desk because apparently...I've dozed off. Very embarrassing and impolite, but I really cannot help it! I have not to this day found a way to prevent this. And I have been a student for ...well...a long time :-)

I started chuckling, then laughing, then snorting! It reminded me of my teaching days.

For quite awhile, I was teaching a course called "Dance & Society." It was a lecture course, in a big auditorium filled with students...and it was a night class. It started at 5:15 pm and was 2 1/2 hours long...and the students ate dinner right before class.

Guess how many students' foreheads slapped the desktop in every class!?! I tried to make the class as interesting as possible, I really did! We even had class in the dance studio when I had guests to teach them different ethnic dance forms...but even there the foreheads still hit the floor when they sat down!!

Some of my colleagues were so irritated by that and would call the students out on falling asleep. I always figured that the red mark on their foreheads and the snickers from the other students was punishment enough.

One young man even apologized to me once. He was embarrassed but relieved when I laughed.

Thanks for the memory retrieval, Caroline!

Narcoleptic Day

2007-10-21T07:44:00.000-07:00

That's what yesterday was...narcoleptic. You would think that I had run a marathon the day before. But that's the thing about Emily's dress...there were no late nights, no marathon sewing because it got down to the wire. I actually managed my time well.

But I still slept all day. I had, in fact, gotten up at about 9:30 but had to move fast to get back to bed 'cause sleep was coming fast!

Times like this I wonder about what I have actually inherited from my illness. For 2 years after that, sleep was in charge. When my body said it was time (2 or 3 times a day), it was to my benefit to make sure I was at least sitting down when I felt it coming because I did not have any choice in the matter...sleep happened. I was once standing just outside the front door, holding 1 month-old Meave, and it hit me, fast! I actually simply fell over into the bushes! I was so scared that Meave might get hurt that I stayed mostly conscious until my neighbor picked me up and I could get us into bed. So weird.

When Meave was 7 months-old, the Donahue clan all went to Disney World. I was awake for 12 straight hours (unheard of for me at the time), until we got to the hotel. Michael and the other parents took all of the kids swimming while I collapsed in bed. During the next few hours, Michael and my sisters-in-law were in and out of the room. I could hear them, and even see them through slits in my eyes...but I could not move. One sil thought I was awake so asked me a question and was completely freaked out when I just laid there like a mummy. I got an earful about how freaky I was the next morning when I finally woke up for breakfast!

So anyway, yesterday was one of those. I am better now.

Pink Eye and Loving Sisters

2007-10-16T20:37:00.000-07:00

Maggie has had a painful left eye for the past couple of days. Itchy but no yuckiness. Too much pain this morning so I called the doc to check for pink eye. They "seemed" to confirm it...I think they were not going to take a chance so we got some antibiotic drops. Personally, I think it is a stye...or maybe a cold that is irritating her eye because the diva is really lacking in diva temperament at the moment.

When Meave found out that Maggie was sick, she suddenly came down with a "terrible stomach pain, Mama." Meave has absolutely no problems with schoolwork, so I figured a day off would not hurt her. It was all she could do to make her excitement at getting to stay home with Maggie look like a burp!

So after we see the doc, I am waiting to check out and Maggie has laid her head down on the counter. Meave has been standing on a chair behind her choosing a sticker when I notice that Meave has quietly started stroking Maggie's hair. She says quietly, "You'll feel better soon, Maggie." Bless her heart!

We decide to go eat some lunch...Meave has noticed that Maggie might need some food. Sure enough, as soon as we finish lunch, Maggie has more energy and Meave says, "Look, Mama! Maggie has perked right up!" Where did my 7 yr-old learn to talk like this?

When we get home, I tell Mags she should probably rest...so Meave goes into the bedroom and gets a movie ready and tells Maggie to just lie down and feel better.

Later, Maggie is feeling MUCH better and starts teasing both Meave and Molly with her "infective fingers!" I think the kid really does listen when I tell her not to rub her eyes because she can spread the germs, but man she is getting the biggest kick out of making her sisters squeal.

Later, there they are, 16, 11, & 7...sitting on the couch with Maggie in the middle, cuddled and quiet for a change...taking care of Maggie.

Ever said how much I love my divas?

Do all kids have these moments that fill your heart?

A Blink Moment

2007-10-15T06:05:00.000-07:00

You know when you see or hear something that just makes you stop...and all you can do is blink a few times?

There is obnoxious music here...

I truly cannot wrap my brain around this.

A comment on this post delineates the similiarities between this and Irish dance...I see it too. But what I do not see in ID is the push for young girls, babies really, to look and ACT as if they are in their 20's. In ID it can be about the sparkly, and yes over-the-top, presentation. But it is not about teaching my young daughter to move like a stripper, to smile like a doll, to look like the newest video-jockey on E! News! The bloomers on my 16 yr-old cover more than those tiny bathing suits!!!

What I cannot wrap my brain around is the psychology of it...the mind set of the mothers...and what it is doing to the little girls who are told that in order to win a child's beauty pageant she must look, walk, strut, pose, and dance like a grown-up stripper. Ugh.

Kid Knitting: Cable Shrug & Cardigan

2007-10-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

This looks like a giant red slug...but it is a shrug for the youngest diva. There are cables there on either side of a moss stitch center.

Here is the slug flayed open...

Here's the cables!

Meave found this yarn in my stash where it has remained buried because it is acrylic, and I have become such a snob about acrylic! But, Meave loved the color and the sparkles, and she decided it would make a perfect "arm thingy" for Christmas. How could I say no? So I made this pattern up...and I am so bored with it already. It would get lost if she was not checking on my progress everyday.

I was at the local craft store for some reason, and I went through the yarn aisle as I usually do. They used to have all sorts of wonderful yarn, but I guess not enough serious knitters frequent the store, so they have scaled back to the usual crap. I have become a bit of a brand snob, too... Red heart, Patons, even Lion Brand I consider to be yarns of last resort. But I found this yarn below...

Patons, wool and soy. So very soft and wonderful! Got it, fooled around with gauge, started this little cardigan. Another one out of my head...one of these days I need to write my patterns down. Christmas present for Meave.

I have resolved to sit and knit every night as there are so many things I could make for Christmas. I do love it, and it is better than snacking!!!

Redskins WON!!!!!!

2007-10-10T21:35:00.000-07:00

Like I really care...but Michael is working on the girls. They watch the games with him...and he took them to a game last weekend. What is it about men and taking pictures in direct sunlight?

They came home sunburned...do ya think Meave was ever able to look UP and SEE the game?!?

What a hoot.

Clarity

2007-10-04T08:12:00.000-07:00

I woke up from my dream this morning knowing the universe...in that space between dreaming and being awake, I was so clear. And then diva Maggie launched herself on me for a morning hug. As the muddy real world quickly rushed in to obscure the clarity, I said, "Shit," and Maggie replied, "Well, la-di-dah!" kissed me and ran away.

When will they learn that we mothers need to wake slowly, that we are trying to bring the wisdom of the universe through that sleep-wake space so it can function in the real world? Don't they understand that it will only make their lives better?!? So, stop jumping on me in bed!!!!

I actually possessed that clarity once. It came in the first couple of days of recovery after I was hit by a truck while I was jogging. Yeah, there I was, 27 years old, in peak form, getting ready to begin dancing with a ballet company...I had just returned from an incredible summer intensive, and I was a dancing Amazon. Felt the need to go running, and 2 blocks from my house, BAM! Threw me into the intersection, broke my leg...broke my invincible ego.

I really do not remember the hospital. For some reason my "memories" are of my sister Katie in the waiting room with 2 idiot men - my boyfriend and her future husband. I did not witness this, but here is her story as "I remember it": she rushed to the hospital with the 2 idiots in tow. It was hours before she could see me, and, as BOYS are wont to do, the 2 idiots got bored and began mis-behaving. They started throwing things at each other, sparring with rolled up magazines, hitting each other (they were 25 and 27 respectively) and generally acting up until my sister made them sit down on opposite sides of her. She scolded them and told them to behave...which they did for about 5 minutes. And then they turned on her. Her boyfriend, Idiot #1, kept trying to kiss her, and she told him to knock it off. Idiot #2 (my moron), started whispering in her ear on the other side, and she whacked him. All of a sudden, Idiot #2 stuck his finger in her ear at the same time that Idiot #1 stuck his finger up her nose!!!! She smacked them both and stalked off to ask the nurse one more time if she could see me...and this is when she showed up in my ER room in tears. Tears caused by idiot frustration, not by seeing me laying there!!! We dissolved in laughter as she related her waiting room adventure.

So, the clarity...the next few days were a trip. I was on some powerful pain meds, and I was sleeping almost constantly. Something interesting happened while I was sleeping...I would move into that in-between place and stay there. I was very conscious in this solid place. Drug induced? Probably, but here's the thing - I knew peace. I knew clarity. I KNEW. I could not explain any of it, not even to Katie, but that place was so real. There was no fear, insecurity, pain, or ego. And the best part? I still had it when I was completely awake. And I could go back to it when I went to sleep.

Do I still KNOW? No. Over the years it faded, but I could still feel what it had been. Now, all I know is that it happened, but I cannot explain it or even find vestiges of it anymore. My grasp on it was broken when I got sick in 2000, when my brain was creatively re-wired by the high fever and lack of oxygen.

But this morning, it came for a very brief visit. Why now?

My aunt, my father's sister, is very ill. She is in ICU on a ventilator back in California. We all grew up together, her 6 kids, we 5. We were literally one big family, and we did absolutely everything together. And now we are all waiting.

Diva Maggie once lamented that she has had more death in her young life than anyone in her school. She might be right. It all began in 2000 when I almost died. Over the past 7 years, we have lost aunts and uncles, friends and friends babies, about 10 pets (big deal for a kid...we had quite a menagerie for a while there), my father in 2003, Michael's father in 2004, my grandfather at the beginning of this year...this Saturday marks 5 years since my dad had the heart transplant surgery that should have been a miracle. It was, unfortunately, the beginning of the end. And I can't get it out of my mind right now.

It is always a shock when suddenly I miss my father. When suddenly it is as if he just died. We are all missing him so much right now. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, counted on Dad's strength, his wisdom, his clarity. Maybe that's what came to visit me this morning. Maybe he is near, waiting for his sister.

Psychosomatic Hypochondria

2007-09-27T05:24:00.000-07:00

Seems like a redundant phrase, doesn't it? Psychosomatic Hypochondria...emphasis on the "psycho."

Michael was working from home. The phone rings and he answers. He hangs up and yells, "Since when does Meave have allergies?" I go to the living room and answer, "Never."

"Well, she's been sneezing for the last 20 minutes and they want us to come get her."

Very perplexed, I head off to the school.

I open the office door and hear this explosive series of sneezes...fake ones. I walk in and am greeted by concerned looks from the office staff. I look at my red-faced, sweating 7 year-old, working hard to sneeze her brains out, and, trying hard not to laugh, I say, "Knock it off." And she does.

The office staff are now scraping their jaws off the floor as I lead my cured child out the door for a chat. Something is up.

After a long chat about how she really needs to go home 'cause she her throat now hurts (from sneezing for half an hour) and she has a fever (elevated body temp from the sneezing exercise she has been engaged in), I start leading her back to class. Gotta nip this one in the bud.

I keep asking if something is wrong...somebody being mean? Something freaking her out in class? Is she worried about something? As we near her classroom, she grabs my leg and starts crying about how she just misses me SOOOO MUCH! We discuss the fact that I am always home when she gets there and that when she needs me I show up at school...and her shoulders sag in defeat.

She goes into the class room as her concerned teacher comes out to talk to me.

"I have never seen an allergy attack like that!" she says.

"It was fake," I tell her. After she blinks a couple of times, she bursts out laughing. Meave likes her because she is funny, and I can see now that she has a good sense of humor. We discuss the testing that is going on and how Meave has a perfection complex that rivals my own, blah, blah, blah... As I left, she was smiling, and Meave was working.

As I am leaving the building, I am asked several times about Meave's attack and watch each jaw drop as I say it was fake. The school nurse laughed and said it was the most committed performance she had ever seen. And then she patted me on the back and said, "Good job, Mom!"

When I got home and told Michael why I was without the youngest diva, guess what his jaw did. And he said it was a good thing that I went because he would have believed her. Good divas always believe other good divas.

Oh no...musicals

2007-09-25T17:43:00.000-07:00

I am a dancer...I am constitutionally and physically inclined to dance. My husband is an actor...same disposition.

Guess what our children are....musical theatre GEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is just occurring to me at this moment that my daughters are actually the perfect genetic product of their father and myself. And I can't stand it!

(Oh, you know I can...'cause they are mine and I MUST continue to LOVE them...I must, I must...)

They are cleaning the kitchen and the I-pod speakers are blasting. Do they listen to "Sound of Music" or "West Side Story?" Oh, no...it's "RENT." Even little Meave is singing about "dropping her stash"... oh, man.

Have I ever said how much I actually dislike musicals?

How did this happen to me?

Ahh, knitting...

2007-09-11T05:29:00.000-07:00

I have been itching to knit the past few weeks, but when I finally have time during the day to organize myself, it is late in the evening...and I no longer actually have the brain power to organize myself. And I really want to be doing something big, but can't seem to figure that out either. Susan did ask if I could make something warm for her noggin this winter, so I have been perusing the patterns. I found this below and am doing a test for Meave...

I told her I like the hole at the top myself and might leave it there. She looked at me like I am such a dork and mumbled, "Yeah right, Mama." Then she snorted at me!

She's been taking notes from Maggie on how to jazz up a photo op.

The hat is called Cap Karma and was designed by Smariek...click that link for her blog, the hat, etc. Thanks, Smariek

And the Pinwheel Sweater is finally done. The yarn is wool and silk from Mystical Creation Yarns...fantastic stuff. So soft, smooth and strong...I had to keep scissors with me on this one because I could not break this yarn with my hands.

Which presents an unusual dilemma...I typically feel that if I cannot break a yarn with my hands then it will not stretch very much...but this sweater is growing!!!

Yes, I did knit it looser than the pattern called for, and it is bigger than the pattern, but the growing has to stop! Molly loves it and has been wearing it. She wraps up in it like a big blanket, but that was not how I envisioned it. I think I am going to try my trick of soaking it, letting it drain mostly dry, and then put it in the dryer for a bit to tighten it up...anyone have an opinion on that?

More about this sweater here: Long Lost Knitting...

On a MUCH Lighter Note...

2007-09-01T13:40:00.000-07:00

For a few days on dance.net there were these advertisements for dance poles...from hardcorepoles.com...uh-huh...

So, Susan checked it out and found at that we hard working moms can afford to get one if we put it on layaway!!!!!!!!!!!!! Might be worth it just to get some "Mighty Grip"!!????

Make sure you have your sound on when you click the link (which seems safe...I get every pop-up and weird attachment there is, and nothing else came up with this site).

Doggie Death

2007-08-29T06:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we had to put our dog, Bucket, to sleep. It was a hard day.

One of those weeks

2007-08-15T21:33:00.000-07:00

Yeah...one of those. Busy, busy.

I am an aunt again. My youngest sister Sheila had her first baby last Thursday...Charmaine Ann . Born 8/9, weighing in at 8 lbs 9 oz...and she is the 9th grandchild on my side. I now have 11 nieces and nephews.

Finally a redhead!!!! I am so jealous! I am the oldest of 5, 4 of which are redheads (sister Kate was the blonde like my divas). Sheila and I shared the same golden red, though hers was curly. (Weird thing, as we got older, we started looking so alike that you might call us twins. We are 5 1/2 years apart...but the resemblance is so bizarre.) Anyway, in our family, cousins included, the redheads do not have redheaded children, the non-redheads do, and this goes back through a few generations, on both sides of the family! But Sheila has finally bucked the trend! My mom says Charmaine's hair looks to be like Sheila's and mine. Very cool.

And another cool thing...the baby looks just like my dad who died in March 2003. Spitting image. He would have been so proud...maybe he is. I miss him terribly right now.

This is my sister Bernie with Charmaine. I envy her right now, getting "new baby" cooties... big sigh.

This is my mother with Bernie's daughter Annie, named for my mom, Ann (like me).

This is Bernie's husband Alberto...with son Thomas there in the corner (named for my father).

Here is nephew Berto (Alberto Jr.).

Niece Annie. So beautiful!

Nephew Thomas.

Niece Charmaine.

Welcome to the family!

One of those weeks, Part Deux

2007-08-15T21:00:00.000-07:00

So, besides babies being born...

Divas Maggie and Saskia had a blast together this past week. Before Saskia's family moved, being the strong, though sweet, personalities that they are, there always came a time Maggie and Saskia needed a break, so they would fight, separate, get over it, and then get on with it. Well, they did not fight this whole week that they were together...until about 90 minutes before Saskia was to leave. Saskia was MAD, and she had every right to be. Maggie knew she screwed up. But, at 45 minutes to blast off, they were still giving each other the silent treatment. So, I explained that they would feel really bad if they parted like that, and left them alone. Whew...they got over it and the goodbyes lasted 10 minutes as they could not disengage themselves...they walked to the car with arms wrapped around each other. Got a bit teary-eyed myself as we watched Saskia and Martin dive away. It was a good visit.

Working away on the newest solo. Fascinating color combination for the fabrics...which is giving me fits trying to get the thread colors right!!! Might have more test pieces here than I ever have because I am testing colors and fooling with the digitizing. Thought this one would be easier now that I have ALL of this experience, but oh no...have to screw things up by trying new things and getting unnecessarily creative. There is something to be said for repeating oneself when it comes to process...it may be less interesting for said "artiste" but it is definitely more efficient time-wise. Pain in the butt, this need I have to experiment...

This weekend the whole family went to the county fair...woo-hoo and YEEEEEHAAAWWW!!! What a freaking trip!

I have not been to a county fair since...I don't know when. In the 14 years we have lived in this area, I have never been to ours. But, Michael decided it would be a fun thing to do, and even I went. The kids were a bit surprised that I wanted to go since it involved so much walking AND it was hot (I hate, HATE hot), but go I did and we had a blast.

We did wait until the late afternoon to go...still hot, but manageable. And going later made sense since we wanted to see the rodeo and the fair is not SO big that you can effectively waste 6 hours without spending the kind of money that gives me a bleeding ulcer. Turned out just fine.

Molly has been to this county fair with a friend of hers in years past. so this was not new to her, but the other two divas and Saskia (diva #4) were amazed by it all. Meave looked at me and asked, "Are you REALLY going to let us ride these rides?"

"Yeeeaaaahhhh...I.....am."

"REEEAAALLLY? Really, TRUUUUUULY?!!!!"

See, every time there is a parking lot carnival in our town, I explain to the girls how dangerous they are and how I will NEVER let them on one of those rides. But how can I deny them when I have taken them into the chaos myself?

We walked for a bit first, though. Went to all the livestock barns. We all got a kick out of that. The goats crack me up. We all stood and watched this interesting dance that two goats were doing...swaying their heads side-to-side before wacking each other between the eyes. Reminded me of me and Michael...but that is another story. But guess where we spent the most time...yep, the pigs. I had to endure the divas' comments that ranged from "Aren't they cute, Mama?" to "Aren't they smart, Mama?" to "See how clean they are, Mama?" to "Can't we just sneak one into our house, Mama?" They stopped when I pointed out how MASSIVE these "cute pigs" were and asked who was going to share their bed? Still, they were pretty amazing, coming up to sit quietly so the divas could scratch them and rub their noses. There was one, though, who took advantage of his pen-mates need for attention and he parked himself next to the trough, sat back on his haunches, and literally buried his snout in the food and proceeded to chow down. At one point, he laid down over his front legs so that his mouth was really buried. Standing up put him too far from the food! What a hoot!

The rides...we paid for the unlimited ride bracelet for everyone except me...I don't "DO" rides. As we initially walked through the fairgrounds, I found it interesting that the divas were not clamoring to go on the rides. I took that as a sign that I had done my parental duty well...they were very circumspect about the rides that looked dangerous. The first ride they agreed to go on was the ferris wheel. So they stood in line, which was not that long, but as I was standing off to the side in a bit of shade, I had enough time to decide that I wanted to do this one with them. Off I went to get a few tickets, and then into line I went. The divas were thrilled. Gotta like it when you hear, "Mama's coming, Mama's coming!" and they aren't scrambling to hide something, eh?! It was great fun.

We were ready for the rodeo when it was time. We got a big ol' turkey leg, some ribs and lemonade after I said no to the corn dogs (I so don't trust carnival dogs) and off we went. We were all so psyched for the RODEO...and it was such a dragging disappointment!! As we watched small children try to ride "wild" sheep and then race astride wooden horsies, fat men throw themselves from horses onto "steers" that weighed less than the men assaulting them, a woman billed as "the best rodeo act in America" fall off of her horses, and calves run right out of the lassoes thrown over them, we became the quintessential bored American family. When Maggie yelled over at me that she did not understand the point of ANY of this, we decided the rides were more fun and joined the exodus out of the rodeo pavilion. It was all so ridiculous that Michael and I had a good giggle.

One of the highlights for me was hanging with Molly. It has dawned on me recently that I truly enjoy hanging out with her as she has grown into a young adult with a great sense of humor. She always has the best come backs. But this day, she was a little bit clueless, so I was getting a big kick out of yanking her chain by saying all sorts of rather bizarre things about the whole county fair experience. It started when I said something as we walked in that came from my older point of view... I assumed she would understand it to be a joke. She did not and instead gave me her whole puffed up "MAMA!" reaction. Opportunity! The rest of the day was spent getting the best reactions out of my daughter. I was the "diva" and she was the PC monitor. Near the end of the night, after a doozy of a comment that almost caused her to faint, I told her that I was testing her limits. She was visibly relieved that I was teasing her, that I was not truly revealing myself to be an awful person...have to admit that when I teased her about her lack of faith in me, I was a bit serious. However, she is still young enough to believe that everything out of my mouth might be true, and I have to cherish that belief in me...because it won't last much longer! I hope our connection lasts our lifetime.

Near the end of the night, when it was finally dark, we all went on the ferris wheel one more time. It was glorious looking at the whole fair all lit up. The ride went on and on and we were quite the happy bunch...until the freaking wheel stopped with us at the VERY TOP!!!! AND STARTED SWAYING...AND JERKING...AND SWAYING!!! I am so done with ferris wheels. So is Meave...poor kid might need therapy after that...

Maggie & Saskia

2007-08-09T17:15:00.000-07:00

(I thought it was about time that I put some pics up as I am sure that Mama Susi is chomping at the bit...)

Maggie's best friend, Saskia, has come to visit for a week. The two girls are in heaven. So happy to see each other...and in a very short period of time, it is as if Saskia never moved away!

Saskia arrived on Tuesday. Maggie was up at the crack of dawn...baking. She and Saskia were apart for Saskia's 13th birthday (on opposite sides of the country, actually), so Mags was determined to have another party for her. She came banging up the stairs to tell me we did not have eggs...so Molly and I ran out for eggs. After I get home, she rushes into the room to tell me we did not have any butter. I tell her to go ask a neighbor...she rushes off with 2 eggs in her hand to barter some butter. I saw my neighbor later and she told me that she really did not need the eggs but Maggie would not take no for an answer and shoved the eggs into her hand. She may be small but she is not to be messed with.

So she baked a cake and 2 dozen cupcakes. Here's the cake.

And here are the BFFs.

Opening belated birthday cards and presents. (Miss Meave was as excited as Maggie, I think.)

As you can see here, Saskia is QUITE a bit taller than Maggie. She is 3 years younger than Molly but she is less than 1 inch shorter...I was quite stunned by how tall she has gotten in 1 year, Susi!!!

Saskia brought Maggie a gift also.

Posing with the presents! (I also gave Saskia a pair of dangly flower earrings.)

Ready to sing. (They are both wearing their new earrings. Also notice the light colored bracelets...Saskia made those and they are trying to set a world record for simultaneously keeping them on for YEARS!)

Ok, so you know how diva Maggie is into making faces? Guess what her best friend likes to do...

make faces! Made for each other.

Here's Saskia's dad, Martin. Here is where her height comes from.

Today we took Saskia to get her hair cut per her mother's request. I had Molly take some pics when we got home, but Saskia did not like them and made me remove them from the blog. I asked Molly to take her outside and take BETTER pics...here are the results and the hair-do.

Can't keep them down.

Beautiful. Such a treat having her here. We wish it included the rest of you!

My new Affiliation

2007-07-30T06:14:00.000-07:00

I have proudly joined a new club. Why? Because I am so taken with this last Harry Potter book. Loved it. Was talking to Michael about it and he told me I was such a geek...like he's not! So, in the spirit of the book, I proclaim myself a DDNGer.

My middle diva Maggie is the founder of this little club that she calls "The DDNGers." She and a few friends found solace in this group beginning in 3rd or 4th grade. I first heard about it one morning at the bus stop when I asked about a sweet boy that she was talking to. She told me his name was Dustin and he was a DDNGer.

"Deedee-enjee-er?" I asked

"Yeah, my club."

Long pause..."Well, what is that, Miss Mags?"

She gave me that twisted smile, twinkly-eyed look and said, "Dorks, Dweebs, Nerds & Geeks!"

"You call YOURSELVES that?!"

"Yep..." and the bus drove up. She and her buddy happily waved at me and left.

I was stunned...and once again thoroughly amused. What is it they say? If you want to take power out of a word, own it. How did she learn that at age 9?

My Maggie is a very interesting little person. She was a good size when she was born, 8 lbs 5 oz., but that was the last time she was "big." She was always teeny-tiny. At her 1 year doctor's check-up, she was the size of a normal 9 month-old...maybe. The doc took many measurements, talked to her (more on that in a moment) and declared her amazing and tho' small, perfectly proportioned.

When she went to kindergarten, she was wearing 3T's. She did not graduate to wearing 5T's (which can be smaller than just 5's) until she was in 2nd grade! And even then, they were always too long by several inches!

She had blond curly hair, big blue eyes, big ears, and a gaze that put Medusa to shame. This child also made funny faces, constantly. She could not help it. And it irked her beyond reason when folks exclaimed over how tiny and cute she was.

As a non-walking baby, we called her Buddha-baby because you could put her anywhere and she would just sit there, not moving, watching all of the activity around her very seriously. I can still see her...plopped on the floor amidst her toys, just quietly observing us all. When she was able to crawl, she would take herself off to be in private areas to play alone, especially at noisy family gatherings. I thought I had a silent recluse on my hands.

And then, at 9 months, looking like she might be six months old, she stood up and RAN. No careful, slow walking, no contemplative strolls through her world. Instead, she revved up her little legs and ran into a wall for the first of the many scary forehead eggs, multi-hued bruises, split lips, and scars containing stitches to come!

On her 4th birthday when I was 4 months pregnant with Meave, she RAN to shut the front door, tripped over the landing stair, and split her forehead wide open! Off to the doctor we ran. When Mags saw that needle coming, that tiny thing went ballistic. We had to wrap her in a papoose, and Michael and I BOTH had to lay on her while a nurse held her head so the doc could sew her poor head back together. Her screams were SO awful.

But true to form, the second it was over and she was in Michael's arms, she literally said, "Well, that was fun!" with a big smile!!!! I am not making this up! At that moment, I tried to pass out from the stress of it and while I was laying on the table she had just been on with nurses fussing over my pregnant self, she asked Michael to show her the instruments and needles that the doc had just finished using...all the laughter was tinged with wondering how Morticia Addam's daughter ended up in our care.

My beautiful daughter can point to every scar on her face and head...with pride. There have been many stitches, but thankfully no broken bones. Knock on wood.

Now to the talking which she began early also. Her Buddha-like silence gave way to constant volubility and lots of laughter. Her speech was not always clear, but the sentence patterns and word use were way, way beyond her years. Many, many times a person walking by would stop dead in their tracks after hearing what they assumed was a tiny baby lecture me on the merits of giving her what she wanted. One very old woman once engaged Maggie in conversation (she thankfully diverted Maggie's attention from a toy), and when she was done she turned to me and told me I had a delightful child...who would turn my hair white while I was still very young!

When Mags was 18 months old, she got mad at me because I would not turn around on the freeway to go get her sippy cup, so she fired me.

"Fine, when Grandma gets here, you're fired!"

Can you imagined how I wanted to laugh? But very early on, we all learned in this family that laughing at Maggie was a dangerous activity. It always backfired on you because she was never amused by your amusement. It has only been in the last couple of years that Maggie has begun to understand that she is funny, that we are not laughing AT her. Her perceptions of this world are truly unique.

Back to the DDNGers...the creation of this group is an example of Maggie's propensity for standing up for the under-dogs. And this is very interesting. Because of Maggie's particular take on the world, her bizarre sense of humor and her BIG mouth, she herself would be considered one of the weird kids, one of the under-dogs. She does not care and is actually compelled to act as champion for many of these kids who become her friends. She once became so incensed by what she perceived as a terrible injustice perpetrated upon her friend Dustin, that she yelled at her teacher, a playground aide, and went straight to the bully's mother and told her what a jerk and a liar her son was!!!! And she relayed the whole thing to me HERSELF!!! She was so mad that she was jumping and hopping and gesturing wildly as she told me the story. I had to bite my lips to remain serious. I fully expected to get a phone call from the school about her, but I did not. Seems all concerned were taken by her sense of honor if not her big mouth.

And the DDNGers are part of this compassion she has for those who know pain. She tries to make it funny and ironic without knowing that is what she is doing. And although as she gets older she is less likely to proclaim her allegiance to this group as loudly as she once did, my kid truly does embrace her inner nerd. And I so love her for it.

Long live DDNGers!

Irish Dance Embroidery and Aran Sweaters

2007-07-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

Through various (though extremely limited) sources, I have become very interested in the history of hand embroidery on Irish dance dresses. I have posed questions in a few places and have gotten a few questionnaires back. (It is not too late for more contributors!) The pics that have been sent are incredible. Like this gorgeous one from Anita:

Takes me awhile to assimilate everything in my head so that I can write about it, but I am really looking forward to it.

A message posted on the IDDressmaking board, and a couple of corroborating responses, got me thinking about a similarity between the use of ID embroidery and Aran sweater stitch patterns. The writers of the posts talked about having heard that:

#1) the hand embroidered dresses were added to as the dancer rose in the ranks (Very interesting...anyone else have info in that vein?), and

#2) (here I quote the message): "My understanding was that the patterns and stitches were somewhat regional (Fascinating idea about the ID embroidery...again, anyone else have a perspective on this?)- like the old tradition of aran sweaters having a family/town/county connections strong enough to tell where the sweater was made. Of course, the rationale for that one was more macabre: It had to do with identification and fish's preference for eating faces and extremities on drowned fisherman. Presumably, the dress designs were used to identify dancers from a distance."

The idea that the stitches and patterns might be regional was all very fascinating, and set me to researching. I had also read/heard about the Aran sweater stitch pattern serving a purpose as a family/regional identification, so I wanted to explore this first to establish a frame of reference for myself. I went first to my books and found that they really did not in fact say much of anything about the use of Aran stitch patterns as family identification. I wonder where I got that idea, where did I hear that? So I went to my trusty research tool - the internet...only to learn that this is knitting myth! I was so disappointed!!! Everything I found crushed my obviously naive and misguided idea...OH, the intellectual pain!!! (And I am truly making fun of myself here, not the IDD poster, ok?!)

I found a great bit of sleuthing on a blog. The following was found here at The Knitting Curmudgeon and written in 2004. I am copying it here because she says it all so well!

Heinz Edgar Kiewe--Crackpot or Historian?
Well, something of a crackpot, to be honest. Kiewe (1906-1986) was a Prussian-born self-styled "textile journalist" who ran a needlework/yarn shop called Art Needlework Industries Ltd. in Oxford, England from about 1940 until the late '60s. He also published several books about needlework--Charted Peasant Designs from Saxon Transylvania is still available from Dover, I think.

However, Kiewe's dubious place in knitting history may be that of Promulgator of the Great Aran Sweater Myth. Kiewe actually purchased one of the first commercially available Aran sweaters in 1936, loaned it to Mary Thomas for her book, and then proceeded to cook up a fairytale theory about the Irish knitting these sweaters for centuries. Richard Rutt goes into great detail about Kiewe's theory in The History of Hand Knitting:

Heinz Kiewe perceived a connection between Aran knitted designs and ancient Irish art. He never claimed that this was a scholarly theory: he accepted it as an intuitive perception...So he began to describe Aran knitted patterns in terms of the 'white shirt of monotheistic cultures.' Before long, publicists for wool spinners were crediting Aran knitting with thousands of years of history...

Much of this nutsy nonsense comes from a book Kiewe wrote in 1967, The Sacred History of Knitting. In the early '80s, when I was knitting editor for MacKnit, a machine knitting magazine, I spent a good deal of time researching Aran knitting history, to the extent that anyone can research knitting history in this country. I met up with an English machine knitter and historian, Kathleen Kinder, who was the first to challenge the notion that Aran patterns were symbolic and that the Irish had been knitting these sweaters from time immemorial. Kathleen had done an enormous amount of research and I suspect that Richard Rutt used many of Kathleen's theories as a jumping-off point.

I own an autographed copy of this bizarre book, found in a used bookstore 20 years ago. And it is most bizarre. Some of the chapters: Discover of the knitted priestly Ephod on Cyprus; Jerusalem Knitting; Sculpture in Convex Stripes--did it signify knitting?

You get the picture. Here's Kiewe at his looniest, verbatim:

Are the Aran patterns a sign, a witness of the revelations of the Holy Book?

Yes, indeed we confirm them to be ornaments of religion--symbols of the divine "geometrical speculations" of the Near East. What was the importance of the symbol of interlacing? The bond of Man with God and Religion (from re-ligare--to bind "the religious"--person bound by monastic vows, etc.).

The plait? The Holy three stands of hair ribbon or straw, the plaited holy-bread of the Old Testament, they are symbols of a devout family bound up with God.

Do we need now to explain the deep religious meaning of the names of the Aran patterns?

Enough on Kiewe. The book does have some interesting info on Jersey and Guernsey knitting, due to Kiewe's friendship with Gladys Thompson, author of Patterns for Guernseys and Jerseys. And here's an interesting article I found, if you don't know too much about Aran knitting. However, I would highly recommend Rutt's book, recently back in print. It's a fascinating read.

If you click on that article link, you will find more interesting info. And, I found another nicely written article here ...this author almost seems as disappointed as I feel!

So much for that line of thinking in knitting...now for the embroidery. Anybody?

All alone on a Friday night...

2007-07-20T23:33:00.000-07:00

So pitiful. Here I am...by myself. On the computer. With all my posting lately you would think I have no life except a computer life...no...not really. Things are just moving at that slow summer pace. But, I am working on four school dresses...I have a solo fitting tomorrow...there are 5 solos in the queue...have to send info letters and design cd's...I am almost done with Molly's pinwheel sweater...there is always something that needs vacuuming/wiping/swabbing/staring at...there is a 16th birthday to plan/deal with...there is so much laundry to do that I need a pill or two...and Meave's hair was mysteriously cut...all by itself...it just happened...and now I have to decide if I can deal with a very uneven VERY long head of hair or if I am going to bob her hair....and I am here now, by myself at 12:41 AM.

Where's the family? Waiting for Harry Potter. Maggie keeps calling me from the bookstore to give me updates. It is all very exciting. They did not reserve books...but Michael took them this morning to get a bracelet that said they could stand in line TONIGHT to see if MAYBE they might be LUCKY ENOUGH to get one of the extra copies that the bookstore had the foresight to order.

Last phone call from Maggie was about how she was tired so she had gone to stand by the "stupid cheerleaders" who were "cheering on the freaking lucky ones" as they left the bookstore. "Way too cheery, Mom!" Like she would rather come home.

And why am I not there? Fitting in the morning..had to finish the bodice. And I did want some quiet time since tomorrow I have to drive into DC to a feis and then drive home to THEN drive the 2 older divas to ID dance class. Lots of driving tomorrow.

Ah, they are on their way home...with a book and lots of their own stories.

1:23 AM - They are home and All involved insisted on pictures.

Here's the big kid...he was as excited as the girls!

Yes, there are 2 books ( see pic above)...your majesty insisted. He said he was not going to wait for Molly to finish since she won't read with him anymore. It's ok...he is down there in the living room right now, 1:30 AM, reading to Maggie and Meave. I love listening to him read to them. And that's SOMETHING because I hate, HATE, will-start-arguments-HATE people reading to me, but I will listen to Michael read to the girls for hours. He may not even know that since when he wants to read me something I tell him I will read it myself...I guess I don't tell him so he won't use it against me and make me listen!!!! On goes the tradition...with the divas.

Here, the youngest, but most accomplished diva exhibits her best exhausted stance/pout/aura ...think she's asleep? HAH!!!

Thinking about names...and my Divas

2007-07-17T23:30:00.000-07:00

I have thinking about names lately as some beautiful and very unusual Irish names have been batted around on the boards.

I do not have an unusual name. It is short and plain and being a family name, it was common in our clan. Growing up, I always wanted a more exotic name. I decided I would change my name to "Elizabeth." It had lots of letters, several nickname variations, sounded so grown up, and it did not rhyme with "banana!" I clung to "Elizabeth" until the day my grandmother told me that she thought it was a horrible name because it sounded English and was not proper for a good Irish girl! Shot me down!

When I was pregnant for the first time, my husband and I spent much time researching names. At first, I wanted to continue my Irish family tradition and give my children family names, but Michael was adamant that they should have their own unique names. I came around, but that only made things harder. At least with family names there was a limit to the number of names to consider!

My father came to visit when I was about six months pregnant. He got quite an earful when he asked us what names we were considering. Michael and I could not agree on a single name! Dad listened, nodded that sage nod of his, and in a lull he said quietly, "It's Molly."

Shut us right up. He was right.

Now, the name Molly is not that unusual, but it meant something to Dad...and it clicked. In July, on Michael's birthday, Molly was born. She was perfect. Turns out her name means "the perfect one."

My second daughter was born 4 years, 4 months, and 25 days later. This time, though, I knew her name: Maggie. But I did not want her "real" name to be Margaret. We had several relatives named Margaret in our family, and even though I loved them all, I did not like the name. It sounded harsh to me. And by this time, I understood Michael's feelings about our children owning their own names and not being someone else's namesake. So I searched for an Irish name that could serve as the "real" name. Not long before she was born, I found it: Maighdlin . An Irish variant of Madeleine. Our Irish relatives told me it was pronounced as "My-uh- lin." No "g" sound, but I thought it was beautiful and it meant "the magnificent one."

On the way to the hospital to have baby #2, Michael and I realized that we had never even come close to choosing a boy's name. I just knew this new baby was "Maggie."

I remember more about this labor and delivery than I do about the first one. It was a revelation in so many ways. And as she was being born, my new daughter gave me one last parting kick deep inside my belly. Made me laugh. And there she was, my magnificent daughter, the one who still makes me laugh.

4 years, 4 months, and 28 days later, daughter #3 showed up. This time since I was an "elderly gravid" (translation: old mom at 39 years old), we had to go through all the genetic tests. We decided we wanted to know what sex this baby was: another girl! I was thrilled but thought Michael would be disappointed that there would be no boys since this was the LAST baby. Instead, he sighed in relief and said, "Oh thank goodness! I know what to do with girls!"

Choosing the name for this baby became a family affair. I was determined that this name would not start with an "M." Young Molly had pointed out that "we are all M's! Michael, Molly, Maggie and Mama!" Do you see my problem? My real name did not count! Maybe if the new baby were named Aine (ahn-ya) or Fiona or Ciaomhe (kee-va), then the world would hear my real name every once in a while! But, Michael came home one day, announced, "Maeve," and I was out-voted. Molly and Maggie were thrilled.

"See, Mama! All our names start the same!"

When I told my mother, she reminded me of a relative that I had met when I went with her to Ireland in 1985. She spelled her name "Meave" and it meant "joy." I insisted on that spelling. My relative was born the same month as our Meave would be, 100 years before...and she was still alive. She lived long enough to know there was another Meave Halligan in this world. Michael did not object to this family name.

Ten days after my Meave was born, I almost died of a massive infection. When I woke up in ICU a week later, all I wanted was to see my divas. It has taken several years to recover, to come back to a place of strength. And I could not have done it without my perfect one, my magnificent one, and my joy.

(When I moved this post here from Taoknitter, I left behind some lovely comments. They can be read here: Thinking about names...and my Divas )

Long lost knitting

2007-06-27T09:32:00.000-07:00

Still on Taoknitter: Long lost knitting

Maggie, the model

2007-03-26T09:41:00.000-07:00

Still on Taoknitter: Maggie, the model

Knitting & Embroidering

2007-03-23T16:18:00.000-07:00

I am almost done with the Aran poncho...need to do a couple more rows of a crocheted edge. Thought I might do a picot edge, but looking at the pic here it might look too fussy. And I am thinking I will not block this...I like the way the long edge flows and the sheer weight of this thing will block it for me!

I cannot find the pattern I used...I had everything committed to memory. It was not an Elizabeth Zimmerman pattern, but I did not like the way the top down percentages were figured so went to my EZ books and made it work better! EZ to the rescue!

This pic shows the color better. It has more green than the pic above shows. You can also see the cabling section better...sort of.

Miss Maggie generously broke her frown to give me a smile while modeling for me. The poncho is for me but I do NOT put pics of me fluffy self on the net willingly, so here you see that it is a BIG poncho. Actually fits me very nicely.

And here are my flowers! (See Marianne, I do flowers, too! Not as subtle as yours, though...) Susan's design, my digitizing and sew-out. These are my experiments...new solo dress client wants these so had to figure out which threads, which center fabric, etc. I like the top right, but from a distance you cannot see those tiny iridescent dots. The bottom right works the best. The flowers on the left were thread color experiments...hard to find the right shade of pink slightly darker than the fabric.

They come tomorrow for a bodice fitting and we will decide.

So much for wordless Wednesday

2007-03-14T17:35:00.000-07:00

There has been interesting feedback from folks about "Oh, Eliza...". A popcorn thought (you know, the ones that keep jumping in your head until you let it out) needs to be fleshed out, so...

Here are some comments:

Dulcinea: "...I've often thought how weird it is that, had I been born a century ago, knitting would almost certainly have been something for me to escape from rather than to escape to."

SinKnitty: "So that was the beginning of where my mother got the idea that knitting was something that made you less of a powerful woman and why I had to teach myself to knit from books because the art had become lost to my mother's generation. And sadly some women still think it's something that lowers them and wastes their time rather than seeing it as a useful art. If only they knew how much Math I have to do! lol! Knitting is what I have had to use all that algebra for."

And Femminista: "Wow! Ditto sinkitty and dulcinea! My mom is a powerful feminist role model for me--but she didn't want to sit down and teach me "domestic arts" although I was desperate to learn them! I learned from books and good old Home Ec!"

Read the rest here: So much for Wordless Wednesday...

"Oh, Eliza, I beseech you, knit no more!!"

2007-03-12T11:45:00.000-07:00

One of my fellow Historic Knit listers posted this letter and part of the poetic response today. It is a letter from Elizabeth Cady Stanton to her friend Eliza Osborne lamenting the waste of the female intellect when a woman is reduced to knitting or other "digital" arts. Her friend's response is wonderfully less than sympathetic! (I found the whole poem to include here.)

NEW YORK, 26 WEST 61ST STREET,
November 12, 1891.

DEAR ELIZA:

In a recent letter to Mrs. Miller, speaking of the time when we last met, you say, 'Why was Mrs. Stanton so solemn?' to which I reply: Ever since an old German emperor issued an edict, ordering all the women under that flag to knit when walking on the highway, when selling apples in the market place, when sitting in the parks, because 'to keep women out of mischief their hands must be busy,' ever since I read that, I have felt 'solemn' whenever I have seen any daughters of our grand Republic knitting, tatting, embroidering, or occupied with any of the ten thousand digital absurdities that fill so large a place in the lives of Eve's daughters.

Looking forward to the scintillations of wit, the philosophical researches, the historical traditions, the scientific discoveries, the astronomical explorations, the mysteries of theosophy, palmistry, mental science, the revelations of the unknown world where angels and devils do congregate, looking forward to discussions of all these grand themes, in meeting the eldest daughter of David and Martha Wright, the niece of Lucretia Mott, the sister-in-law of William Lloyd Garrison, a queenly-looking woman five feet eight in height, and well proportioned, with glorious black eyes, rivaling even De Staël's in power and pathos, one can readily imagine the disappointment I experienced when such a woman pulled a cotton wash rag from her pocket and forthwith began to knit with bowed head. Fixing her eyes and concentrating her thoughts on a rag one foot square; it was impossible for conversation to rise above the wash-rag level! It was enough to make the most aged optimist 'solemn' to see such a wreck of glorious womanhood.

And, still worse, she not only knit steadily, hour after hour, but she bestowed the sweetest words of encouragement on a young girl from the Pacific Coast, who was embroidering rosebuds on another rag, the very girl I had endeavored to rescue from the maelstrom of embroidery, by showing her the unspeakable folly of giving her optic nerves to such base uses, when they were designed by the Creator to explore the planetary world, with chart and compass to guide mighty ships across the sea, to lead the sons of Adam with divinest love from earth to heaven. Think of the great beseeching optic nerves and muscles by which we express our admiration of all that is good and glorious in earth and heaven, being concentrated on a cotton wash rag! Who can wonder that I was 'solemn' that day! I made my agonized protest on the spot, but it fell unheeded, and with satisfied sneer Eliza knit on, and the young Californian continued making the rosebuds. I gazed into space, and, when alone, wept for my degenerate countrywoman. I not only was 'solemn' that day, but I am profoundly 'solemn' whenever I think of that queenly woman and that cotton wash rag. (One can buy a whole dozen of these useful appliances, with red borders and fringed, for twenty-five cents.) Oh, Eliza, I beseech you, knit no more!

Affectionately yours,

ELIZABETH CADY STANTON.

To this Mrs. Osborne sent the following reply:
DEAR MRS. STANTON:

In your skit
Against your sisterhood who knit,
Or useful make their fingers,
I wonder if–deny it not–
The habit of Lucretia Mott
Within your memory lingers!

In retrospective vision bright,
Can you recall dear Martha Wright
Without her work or knitting?
The needles flying in her hands,
On washing rags or baby's bands,
Or other work as fitting?

"I cannot think they thought the less,
Or ceased the company to bless
With conversation's riches,
Because they thus improved their time,
And never deemed it was a crime
To fill the hours with stitches.

They even used to preach and plan
To spread the fashion, so that man
Might have this satisfaction;
Instead of idling as men do,
With nervous meddling fingers too,
Why not mate talk with action?

But as a daughter and a niece,
I pride myself on every piece
Of handiwork created;
While reveling in social chat,
Or listening to gossip flat,
My gain is unabated.

That German emperor you scorn,
Seems to my mind a monarch born,
Worthy to lead a column;
I'll warrant he could talk and work,
And, neither being used to shirk,
Was rarely very solemn.

I could say more upon this head,
But must, before I go to bed,
Your idle precepts mocking,
Get out my needle and my yarn
And, caring not a single darn,
Just finish up this stocking."

I love smart women!!!

She Rides!!!

2007-03-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

The youngest asked Dad to remove the training wheels this morning. 5 minutes later I looked out the front door just as Dad let her go and off she went!!! That was the end of that! Hurry, quick, where the hell is the camera....

Is her bike really too small already?

She is so thrilled and proud!

She is growing up way too fast. I am sure I am so freaked out about her getting older because she is my baby...I no longer feel the urge to procreate. Truly. But my little one is so quickly becoming a young lady, leaving the baby behind. It's why I let her lisp...a habit she developed when she lost all 4 front teeth at the same time! I have to ask for hugs now when she gets home from school because she'd rather eat a snack. Her older sister is more likely to sit in my lap now than she is. Well, today she's getting lap time whether she likes it or not!

More sweaters

2007-02-28T16:34:00.000-08:00

I found these top 2 sweaters in my daughters' messy drawers...I have made so many that I forget about them.

This is a very soft wool raglan I made for Maggie a few years ago. It was the first time I tried Elizabeth Zimmerman's top-down, seamless approach. Hooked on this now.

I do not remember the yarn, but I got it at Knitting Arts in Saratoga, CA. Such a very cool store. I had Meave with me that day...she was 3 I think. And she was giving a couple of ladies in the store (a clerk and a couple of customers) fits because she was touching everything. She was fascinated by the colors, of course, but she wanted to feel how soft the yarns were, so she picked up everything and rubbed it on her face (which was clean!). If it was especially soft, she buried her face in it! I was watching her and I had explained that we had to treat the yarn with care, but I could not figure out where she learned to rub it on her face. Then, I finally noticed she was carefully following in the footsteps of an older woman who was doing the exact same thing! I finally told Meave we shouldn't do that because the clerk looked ready to have a heart attack, and Meave asked why the other lady got to do it. So, whatever I picked up, I let her feel as I hid her with my wide butt! I love it that my kids love yarn, fabric & book stores as much as I do.

This was a cotton box sweater I made for Molly before she became a picky fashionista. I found it truly BURIED in her room. She wouldn't be caught dead in this now.

And her highness has decided she will never wear this one I just finished... butthead. So I gave it to my friend Ramonie who was just thrilled. I will post a pic of her when I get it.
Ok, enough of a break. Back to the dungeon.

Knitting Serendipity

2007-02-19T18:03:00.000-08:00

I was knitting this sweater... it was looking weird. Remember the weird sweaters Morticia Addams would knit? Well, this one took on a life of its own at some point and when I tried it on Maggie, she broke into snortin' giggles. It was obvious even to her that it would not fit ANYBODY right. So I frogged it (for those unaccustomed to the highly technical terms used in knitting, it's called "frogging" because you "rip-it, rip-it" out).

I stopped frogging when I had only the shoulders and tried it on Maggie again to check shoulder width. The girls loved that! They said to leave it like that and Maggie swore she would wear it. I knit a few more twisted cables and bound off. Meave took it over, and here she models it.

Here is Meave in what we call the "zipper cap." Two years ago, my brother-in-law Mark had an aneurysm while he was teaching a stage combat workshop in Chicago. I went to keep my sister Katie company for a few days while he had surgery and we waited for him to recover enough to go home to Louisiana. The surgery was quite extensive and left him with a huge "zipper" on the side of his head. So while I was there, I knit him a cap like this to both warm his bald head and decorate his zipper. Wish I could find the pattern again.

Crown of the zipper cap.

Maggie's cap was an "I'm bored and need to make something now" inspiration. Cast on, knit whatever, whenever, until it fits someone. Maggie loves hats, the wilder the better, so she nabbed this one. She won't let me block it...s'okay...it's wiggly like she is.

Knitting a bit

2007-01-22T12:18:00.000-08:00

While I was in California, I made Molly a sweater from a pattern she chose from White Lies Designs. Unbelievable yarn from Adrienne Vitadinni (sp?) - soft, soft wool & silk. Finished it so fast because all I had to do at my mother's was knit!

To read the rest go here: Knitting a bit

Frank J. Murray, 1904-2007

2007-01-11T00:55:00.000-08:00

My grandfather died on January 4th, 2007. Just got back from California where he is now buried. The family threw an amazing wake...he would have been proud. He was 102 and still living on his own. He still had his driver's license and would still get in the car to drive to see Grandma if his ride was late. His mind was still sharper than most of us less than half his age. He could still tell one hell of a story. He walked into the hospital on his own right before New Year's and after a scare, was planning on going home. Instead, he went quietly. His life and death are a lesson in the way it should be done, the way we all want to live and die. He will be so missed.

This picture was taken when family from everywhere reunited in California in 2004 for his 100th birthday. He is here with my 3 girls, 2 nieces, 2 nephews, and a young cousin... 8 of his 20 great-grandchildren. Regardless of a couple of strange facial expressions in the pic, they adored him and bragged they had a grandpa that was 100 and still told the best stories. For my girls, their great-grandfather had outlived both of their grandfathers. Amazing.

This is the obituary my Aunt Margie Murray wrote. It reads as a bit of a story...just the way he would have liked.

FRANK J. MURRAY, 1904-2007

Surrounded by his children, Frank J. Murray, aged 102, was called from this life on January 4, 2007 at Kaiser Hospital, Hayward. Children Ann, Patricia, Frank, John, Marjorie, and Jim talked to him, prayed over him, and held his hand as he slipped away into well-deserved eternal rest.

Family, religion, work, and friends were Frank's lifelong commitments. He was devoted to Helen, the love of his life for 69 years, now in a nursing home. With his workingman's hands, Frank fixed her lunch every day: a miniature sandwich, Jello, two cookies and coffee. He arranged lunch and utensils carefully in a plastic box and took it to her, 11:30 sharp. On the days he was too tired to go, he had one of the children deliver it with orders to report back on how she was feeling.

He was not a buddy or a pal to his children but an exacting 19th century Father. Lawgiver, teacher, and disciplinarian, he set the standard for behavior both inside and outside the home. Though strict, his lessons were meant to hone skills for surviving in a harsh world.

He was born at home on July 8, 1904 on a farm in County Down, Ireland. A walking history book, he remembered the building of the Titanic in Belfast in 1912. He could describe the end of World War I as well as the great flu epidemic of 1918, because it claimed his own father. The division of Ireland into North and South in 1922 was a sharp memory: that was the year that his Mother, Maryanne Rogan, sent teenager Frank and his younger sister, Anne, to Liverpool to make the voyage to Canada in order to escape the Irish Troubles.

Traveling the world, he did every kind of job: miner, Greyhound bus driver, laying tracks for the Canadian railroad, harvesting on a sugar beet farm, washing dishes for food during the Depression, and merchant mariner. The family still has his Gladstone bag full of sepia photos from India and Ceylon, the macrame he did on board ship, and the buttons he collected around the world.

But Frank's real passion was for machinery. He came to California about 1932 to make cars at the old Fisher Body plant in Oakland on 73rd Avenue. With his co-workers he faced down strikebreakers and cops trying to bust up their campaign to unionize the plant.

He was the longtime owner of Washington Avenue Garage and of Murray's Auto Clinic on San Leandro Blvd. He fixed the cars of thousands of people throughout Alameda County. He was reputed throughout the county as a mechanic who could fix any kind of automobile and for a fair price. Customers, especially working men with families who couldn't pay right away, could still drive the car out of his garage after a promise and a handshake to pay him back when they could.

Religion was the cornerstone of Frank's life. Missing Sunday Mass was unthinkable. He said the rosary twice a day on the Irish horn beads given him by his Mother. They were in easy reach on the table next to his living room recliner. He insisted on Grace before every meal. He was a longtime member of St. Leander's Young Men's Institute and an usher at Sunday Mass before moving to Hayward in 1975. All six children graduated from St. Mary's (later St. Leander's) School and from Bishop O'Dowd High School.

The one regret of his life was that he didn't get more education, although that didn't stop him from learning until the day he entered the hospital. The books he was reading are still on the table next to his rosary. He followed current events closely and was jubilant on November 9th, the day after the Democrats took back Congress. "Bush got his wings clipped pretty good," said Frank, who couldn't put up with people, who acted "a little too big for their britches."

Physically fit all his life, he was a boxer in his youth and, even into his eighties, an agile dancer. He bragged that he got his driver's license renewed again last July and would show it to anyone who asked. With a little help from his son Jim, he could still fix the water pump in the family Buick out in the garage. But it was discouraging to him to lose his hearing, his stamina, and, finally, his legs that could no longer take him down the long corridors of the nursing home to see his sweetheart.

Frank is survived by his wife Helen Margie, by his children Ann (Tom, now deceased), Patricia (married to Pat); Frank (married to [Hui]); John, Marjorie (married to Larry), and Jim and sister-in-law Hazel Soares. He is also survived by 24 grandchildren, 20 great-grandchildren and dozens of nieces and nephews, including Patsy Murray of Ireland.

Baby sweater

2006-04-09T11:55:00.000-07:00

I am amazed by people who post so often on their blogs. I do not feel I have that much to say, and I know I do not have the time!

I have been working on a baby sweater and hat for my god daughter Amy. The baby shower is some time this month. Mom won't tell me when...just VERY SOON! She said if she tells me that it is sooner rather than later I will probably get it there on time. Reverse psychology doesn't work if you tell the idiot that's what your doing, Mom! But the sweater is now receiving it's buttons. The sweater pattern is from the Vogue Knitting American Collection and it is by Elizabeth Zimmerman. I love these knit-from-the-top-down sweaters... this one only had two seams, one under each arm. I used the same stitch pattern in the hat which I made up out of my head. Very happy with the way it has turned out.

More to write about, but time to get in the shower.

More pictures

2006-03-25T16:13:00.000-08:00

Finally I have a couple of pics of the two school dresses I am making now.

This is the new Dudney School of Irish Dance school dress. The design and dress pattern were developed by Susan Gowin of FeisDress. Susan does the embroidery and I do the rest. We finished the first batch for the St. Patrick's Day Parade in Alexandria, VA. Now, on with the rest! (I need to get a picture of the shawl.)

Finally got a picture of the vest I made for my mother a couple of years ago. I used a pattern from Cheryl Oberle's Folk Vests. Mom picked out the yarn...I really do not remember what we used except that it was angora, silk, rayon and metallic, and it felt wonderful. The weight of it makes it drape beautifully. I love the colors.

And here is a pic of my youngest in her pretty poncho. She picked out the yarn...Patons, I think? It has been in the washer several times...gotta love acrylic sometimes! No pattern, just started on my circulars and kept on until it was long enough. There is a hat somewhere.

This is a jacket that I originally started for Molly. She was probably 12 then. Now that she is 14 1/2 it is no longer hip, so Grandma Dolores has claimed it. Almost done...just need to finish the collar border and weave in the wavers.

So for Molly I have started the Rockstar Cardigan from Alchemy. I will post a pic soon.

This is a duster I made for myself (surprised to find this is one of the few things I have ever done for myself) on the knitting machine. Emerald green wool/rayon finished with a black wool crocheted edge. It hangs so nicely. I really like the collar.