Did I Mention I Knit?

Yeah. Not really. But I'm trying to learn.

I picked up this incredible self-striping yarn in April.


And in less than a week I had this (My model complained that it's too hot. Perfect for cold days I say.). Nobody told me how addictive this knitting is.


For my next trick, I went online and ordered scads of bright colored cotton yarn to attempt a log cabin blanket.


I chose my youngest to be the recipient of my first blanket thinking he'd be less likely to notice any flaws. Little did I know I'd create a task master. G*d forbid I sit down and do nothing. All I hear is "Mom why aren't you knitting? You need to be knitting my blanket." I apologize now to his future spouse.

The end of the blanket is near and the fantastic folks over at Try Handmade hipped me to a newish fiber store not far from my office/house (remind me to call Erika when I need to be bailed out of debtors prison).

Well at Fibre Space I found this beautiful wool. I have deluded challenged myself to knit a sweater out of it.


Stop laughing. At least my goodies all came in this adorable reusable bag.

My Work Here is Done

Though winded from my happy dance, I wanted to be sure to record for posterity the conversation my son and I just had in the car.

Mr. Cool 8th Grader: Mom! I love history this year. It's not really history. It's civics. We're talking about government and politics and stuff.

Me: I loved civics.

(I was a political science major you know)

MC8G: We talked about the President's speech today.

Me: Really?

(thinking he's referring to the President's speech to the students)

MC8G: Yeah. That guy who yelled out...what an idiot. I mean he's the President. You have to respect the office, ya know. It's okay to think bad things, but you can't always say them. He's going to get it.

Me: See why I've been telling you that about not always having to comment on ev-ery thing? Did you know that Congressman's likely opponent in the next election raised over $350k in the last 24 hours? All for that one little sentence he yelled.

(Pause while MC8G scarfs down the rest of his burrito.)

MC8G: You know, if there weren't men in this world there probably wouldn't be any wars. That's just my two cents on it.

Me: (Trying to concentrate above the sounds of angels singing in my ears) What makes you say that?

MC8G: I don't know it's complicated.

Me: Is it because you think women wouldn't start wars?

MC8G: Yeah. They probably wouldn't solve problems that way.

Me: Well not all men want to solve problems that way.

MC8G: Oh I know. Some people have to fight. It's their job.

Me: Yes. If you're in the military you have to follow orders. That is your job. War isn't always wrong, but sometimes we do get in wars we probably don't have to.

MC8G: Why can't we just be like Australia and kick back with our kangaroos? They just hang out. They don't bother anyone.

Me: Well sometimes they join in.

MC8G: But most the time they're hanging out on the porch petting their kangaroos. That's what we should be like.


I'd like to believe this is all due to my incredible parenting, but HE CAME UP WITH THESE IDEAS ON HIS OWN PEOPLE!

This is the same child who shaved off most of his eyebrows in first grade because he thought they were getting too long.

I think I should probably quit here while I'm ahead.

Enjoying the Sameness

It wasn't the first time I slept on the main floor at my aunt and uncle's house.

The house has been the location of family gatherings for long before I was around. My aunt and uncle inherited it from my great-grandfather. We think he bought it from his father. We don't really know how long it's been there, that's just as far back as anyone living knows the story.

It isn't a big house, though it does have three bedrooms, so when the family gets together--usually at Easter--you sleep wherever you can find space. Since most of my life I have been part of the youngest generation that usually meant I camped on the floor.

Last week, I woke up on the couch after a restless night's sleep. I needed to get up and start getting ready, but I just lay there taking in the sounds and smells that were both familiar and comforting.

The smell of coffee brewing. The sounds of voices catching up over breakfast. Silverware clinking on dishes. Footsteps padding on the wood floor. No sound is too harsh. Each is round and just a bit muted by the lifetime of possessions that fill the house.

I can taste the Rice Chex and creamy milk that I'm going to eat. There are always Rice Chex in my aunt's cupboard.

I'll be greeted by the "adults." I'll be called "sleepy head" and I'll give them the same smile I have since I was teenager (the yep I love to sleep smile).

I know exactly what the next thirty minutes will entail and yet I lay still soaking it all in for just a few minutes more, because I know this is the last time I'll enjoy the routine.

For after breakfast, we'll be showering and dressing and getting in the car to head to my aunt's funeral. This will be the last family gathering in the house. Everyone has moved away--moved on. The house will be sold.

It's time to get up now, and it's okay. I will have those sounds and smells in my head forever, and for that I am grateful.