Legacy

My love of all things crafty stems from growing up around both of my grandmas knitting, crocheting, beading, painting, writing, sewing, and quilting. I remember at Christmastime my Grandma Hasel would set out beads at the her round table and make Christmas ornaments. There was always a crafty project afoot whenever I was at either of my grandmas' houses. If I needed a dress for the singing program at school, Grandma would make it.

I've dabbled in many crafts throughout my life, but knitting is the one that has completely captivated my imagination. Its meditative nature has a real calming effect on me.

Sometimes the thought has crossed my mind of what kind of legacy I will leave behind. What will I be remembered for? How did I affect my corner of the world? Does everything I knit really make a difference, or am I wasting precious time?

First and foremost, I'm working very hard to raise healthy, loving, responsible children. I consider that to be my best contribution to humankind.

My family and friends are very important to me, and I hope this is always clear in my words and actions.

But what about the things I knit? Will that all be a waste of time?

I only have to look at the items around my home that were made with loving hands to know the answer to that question.

ZimDee's favorite pillow case is one my Grandma Hasel hand-painted for me when I was ZimDee's age. The artwork is of a little girl (she is supposed to be me) sitting down with a kitty among flowers. Grandma wrote my name in cursive above the picture. Her handwriting was exquisite, and I think about her every night when I tuck my little boy into bed. I nursed all three of my children with with this same pillowcase on a pillow cushioning my sweet little babies. I don't know if Grandma ever imagined that when she painted this pillowcase for her 5-year-old granddaughter that it would also become a favorite of her great-grandchildren as well. I'd like to think that that's what her hope was.

All three of my children sleep under hand-sewn quilts. Girlie and ZimDee sleep under quilts knit with care by my Grandma Lyn. Sproutie sleeps under a quilt that his Drammies, my mother Karen, sewed for me.

Though both of my grandmas are now in heaven, their love for me lives on in the items made especially for me, the same items now treasured by my children.

So am I wasting my time knitting things for the people I love? I think not.

A Night With The Harlot

The Yarn Harlot came to town and once again did not disappoint. Just like last year, my sides hurt again from laughing so hard.Here we are posing with each others' socks in progress. She's gotten a lot further on hers than I have on mine, especially since I had to frog the whole thing 50 rows in this morning. I'm knitting "Conwy" from Knitting on the Road by Nancy Bush for my Sockapalooza pal. I think I'll send my pal this picture along with her socks when they're done so she can see that they were actually held by a celebrity.

Stephanie was as funny and witty as ever. I always enjoy listening to her speak. By the way, she did finish her sweater. She wore it tonight and it was gorgeous.

It was good to see Chrissy, Chris, Amanda and her mom (and sweet baby Everett!). Donna (who is blogless despite ever-mounting pressure) and I rode together and had a great time. I'm already looking forward to next year. Thank you, Stephanie!

When the Wind Blows

Thank you to everyone who wrote sweet words of welcome for my sister and her family regarding their move back to Oregon. I wish I could tell you that it is all going smoothly, but I can't. The sale of their house in Chicago fell through and it puts everything in a precarious position. Please keep my sister and her family in your thoughts as they deal with this challenge.

My sister's setback and some confusing emotional stuff of my own this week have caught me off guard and really knocked the wind out of me. I tend to pull deep within myself when things trouble me, but my friends aren't allowing me to do that this time. They're dragging me out to see the Yarn Harlot tonight. We're going to start out with dinner at Henry's. (I'm not much of a drinker, but a beer is sounding pretty good right about now.) Then we're going tomake our way over to Powell's to listen to Ms. Pearl-McPhee tell us funny stories about knitting. I'm going to sit and knit with friends and laugh tonight.

That's just what the doctor ordered.

Dreams

I had the best dream.

In it, my sister Angie came to see my for my birthday. Her husband decided to fly out too to go on a job interview here in town. He was trying to find a way to somehow move their family back to the Pacific Northwest. It would involve much sacrifice, but it would all be worth it in the end to have us all back together, where we belong, with each other. So important, now that we have painfully learned how quickly our lives can turn on a dime.

In the dream, it happened so fast. They flew back to Chicago. Then there was a teary phone call saying that there was a job offer, and it had been accepted. Like magic, their house in Chicago was sold and the perfect little house was found and purchased here in Portland.

I have dreamed some form of this dream many times in the five years since they moved away. It never failed to bring tears to my eyes and a long sigh over what could have been...my children growing up surrounded by the love of their Auntie and Uncle and cousins; unhurried time that a rushed week once a year of trying to fit everything in before you go can never, ever begin to cover.

Except this time I didn't wake up.

It really did happen.

Welcome home, Angie. You are right where you belong.

Now, what are we going to do today?

Seven Random Facts About Me

This is a fun meme that's been circulating around blog-land. I may very well be the last one participating. Here are 7 totally random facts about me:

1. You will never find me setting foot inside of a bank. I'm terrified that I'll be caught in the middle of a stick-up. I do all of my banking at the drive-through or ATM.

2. I'm not a vegetarian, but could easily become one. I think most meat is yucky and will pick around it if it's in a dish I'm eating. I seriously could live on Jamba Juice alone for the rest of my life and be quite happy with that.

3. Thinking about pretty yarn never fails to cheer me up.

4. I despise seafood. That sounds really odd coming from a girl who was born and raised in a coastal town. The smell, the texture, the taste...intolerable. On a good day I might be able to choke down some salmon, if it's not too "fishy" tasting.

5. One of my biggest pet peeves when eating out at a restaurant is to get a fork with even slightly bent tines. Can we say "OCD" (obsessive/compulsive disorder)?

6. I am a complete germophobe. Elevator buttons, ATM buttons, hospital rooms, hotel rooms, anything on an airplane or public transportation gives me the absolute willies. Kind of puts a damper on travelling, wouldn't you say?

7. I still believe in ghosts. Even more so as I get older.

I tag whoever else has not participated yet and wants to.

Then & Now

Thank you all for your sweet comments and loving thoughts during the aftermath of my Washington DC trip. Many of you emailed me asking about the beautiful shawls I wore during National Police Week. Weren't they lovely? I had never worn shawls before, and now I want to wear them with everything. They kept me surprisingly warm and comforted, which was the result intended by the givers.

The tan shawl I wore to the candlelight vigil and at the Peace Officers Memorial wall was a birthday gift from my dear friend Mamma. Sharp knitterly eyes recognized it as the Pacific Northwest shawl from Fiber Trends, which carries a lot of meaning for me since that is where I live, and I was missing home. This shawl was knit with love, from her heart to mine, and I treasure it.

The purple shawl I wore to the memorial at the capital was knit by Tracey, my most gracious sp9 spoiler. She said she knit it with prayers of comfort, peace, and God's love. It's the Forest Canopy Shawl knit with Kidsilk Haze. So soft. I'm a lucky girl indeed.

And as a knitter, I appreciate every stitch, every row, and every hour put into making these beautiful gifts. My heart is full.

Kimberly at Woven N Spun has issued a challenge for those who choose to accept it. The task is to find your high school senior picture and post it on your blog with a current picture of yourself. Since my *gasp* 20 year reunion is scheduled for this summer (and NO, I am NOT going) I thought I'd play along.

Here I am 20 years ago, Class of 1987:

My face just says it all, doesn't it? I remember purposely choosing a picture for the yearbook in which I was not smiling, to show how I felt about the whole small town high school experience.

And here I am today. That's better.Life since high school has been very, very good.

I'd love to see anyone else's then & now photos, if you so choose. Be sure to leave me a comment when you've posted your pictures so I don't miss them!

Back Home, But Forever Changed

Views from Washington DC

The Washington Monument from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial:The Lincoln Memorial:
National Police Week in Washington DC was emotional and exhausting, as expected. I was deeply touched by the honor bestowed upon the memory of my brother and his fellow officers who died in the line of duty. Here is one of many examples of the meaningful tributes paid during the week:This is my mother, my niece Stephanie, my oldest sister Angie, my middle sister Laura, and me at the candlelight vigil held at the National Peace Officer's Memorial:At the candlelight vigilFinding my brother's name on the memorial wall
At the Capital Building with my brother's wife Celia and my sister Laura:
Listening to President Bush speak at the Capital:

Celia and I meeting the PresidentI have to say, regardless of politics, to hear the loss of my brother acknowledged by the President of the United States was powerfully moving.

A heartfelt thank you to all who sent words of encouragement and support while I was away. It is so unbelievably good to be back home.