Children, kittens, knitting, the South Pacific, and anniversaries

The Banana came to me one day about two weeks ago, asking to paint some pictures with her poster paints. Why not? I said. I set her up with specific instructions to paint only on the paper, not on the furniture, and not on the walls. Bases covered, right?

Wrong!

She did paint on the paper, and she did not paint on the furniture or the walls. She did, however, paint her hands, arms, legs, and feet, including the soles of her feet. And she painted the floor. It took two tubs full of water to get her clean. Ah, the joy of parenthood yet again.

So we have two new additions to our family, because apparently I am not busy enough with other things. Introducing Joey and Carlos!

Sleepy Joey

Awake Joey

Carlos!

Carlos exploring his new surroundings.

How cute are these damn kittens?? They are littermates, 9 weeks old. We got them from the SPCA, and they are an endless source of amusement for everyone except our 14 year old cat Tino. He is none too pleased. Oh well. He is slowly but surely getting used to them, and we purposefully got two so they would bother each other and leave Tino alone. It seems to be working thus far!


On the knitting front, I have begun the Green Gable, which is coming along just wonderfully. I am using this fabulous yarn called Cestari, which is from a farm in Virginia. It is 67% cotton, 25% wool, and 8% silk. I love it! It is in a lovely tweedy pinkish-red colorway they call Tropical Mist. I definitely recommend it. I also intend to make the Rusted Root from Zephyr Style once I have finished the Green Gable. Can I tell you how much I love top-down raglans?? No finishing! No seaming! Yeah!

Have you guys received the summer issue of Interweave Knits? I got mine today. The spring issue is so great, I have to say that I was a little let down with this issue. I am definitely going to make Katie Himmelberg's Summertime Tunic, and I like the Josephine Top too. At first I thought I liked the 1824 Blouson, but I'm not a huge fan of reverse stockinette, and I really don't think I need to knit something so poufy. So we'll see what happens. It's always fun to look through it no matter what, and I may go for Ann Budd's toe-up sock pattern. It doesn't sound too daunting.

I was reading the Craft-Along blog that my friend Liz belongs to, and a woman named Monica crocheted this positively adorable cropped sweater. I casually volunteered to test-crochet it for her, and she took me up on the offer! I have never done this before, and I'm really excited. I do hope I do a good job!


I received a phone call from my father today! For those of you who aren't aware, my dad has been sailing the South Pacific for the past 5 weeks. He sailed on a tall ship called the Soren Larsen from Auckland, New Zealand to Easter Island. It was a pretty rough trip for him, unfortunately. The weather was utter crap for most of it, and they faced headwinds, which added 500 nautical miles to the length of the trip, which is definitely a significant amount. He only got to spend one full day on Easter Island, but he said it is one of the most amazingly beautiful places he has ever seen in his life. Last night he flew to Tahiti, and guess what? It's RAINING. In TAHITI. For Christ's sake. Dad needs a break. I hope it gets sunny so he can relax on a gorgeous beach with an umbrella drink.

He gets home in less than one week. I can't wait to see him.

***

One year ago today, I was standing in front of Target in Montgomeryville when my father called me and told me that my mother had died. I remember that moment so clearly. It was sunny and warm and breezy, and I had to lean on a bicycle stand to keep from falling down. I looked around and saw a bench and walked over and sat down. I talked to Dad for a few minutes, and then I went inside and bought a car charger for my cell phone. I distinctly remember the salespeople asking me, "How are you today?" It was quite surreal. I wanted to tell them what I had just learned, that while I was getting ready for work, doctors and nurses and aides were trying to get my mother to breathe. And while I was sitting in US History II class, my father was sitting next to my mother and holding her hand for the very last time, and how soft her hand was and how relaxed she was for the first time in two years.

I can't believe that I haven't seen my mother, or heard her voice, or smelled her perfume in one whole year. She is still everywhere, especially at my dad's house. I have several pictures of her around: her college graduation picture in the computer room, a picture of her holding the Banana at Easter 2003 on the mirror in Banana's room, two pictures of her with Dad in the living room. I wear her earrings every day. I miss her humor. I miss shopping with her. I miss listening to her read to the Banana. I miss the phone calls and the emails. I miss having a mom, my Mom. She had red hair and green eyes and freckles. She said "warsh" and "Warshington" even before Mason-Dixon Knitting came out. :o) She liked to dance. She like movies and music. She loved to travel. She loved her family and friends, and we love her.

Miss you Ma. :o*

I'm making progress in more ways than one.

The Green Tea Raglan from IK Spring 2007 is growing by leaps and bounds. I am knitting the sleeves at the same time to ensure that they are the same width, length, shape, etc. My stockinette has never looked so good. I may have to frog the front though, as it seems awfully long. I actually wouldn't mind this though, since my cast-on edges tend to look like crap, and my bind-offs look really good. I'll probably frog from the bottom up a few inches and then re-knit to get the correct shape. I'll let you know how it goes.

The scrapghan is also coming along. It's just a matter of sitting down and banging it out. I'll probably take it to Sit n Knit this week since I don't have to think about what I'm doing; I just crochet my brains out.



Get a load of this sweater - I found the pattern for free on Lion Brand! I am impressed with how un-matronly and sleek it is. The model is even cute and is wearing a neat necklace! Holy frijoles! I have several yarns that I could use from my stash to make this. My only dilemma now is to decide which would be best. I guess I'll have to make SWATCHES to find out. Blech.





The Banana refuses to poop. It's been a week. Any suggestions would be helpful. We've already tried bribery, yelling, and laxatives. The joys of parenthood.

Today is Mom's birthday. She would have turned 60. Yesterday, my father, my brother, WT, and I went to the Robert Wood Johnson Medical School in scenic Piscataway, NJ for a memorial. Liz was kind enough to pick up the Banana from school and entertain her for hours. I was immensely impressed with the memorial yesterday. It was conducted almost primarily by medical students, most of them in their first year. It began with music, a flute quartet which my mother would have loved. Students spoke, the dean of the medical school spoke, and then a young lady on piano and a young man on the cello played The Swan, part of a work by Camille St. Saens. That in and of itself was enough to push me over the edge, but then I saw my dad crying, and that was hard. It's the first I've seen him cry during this whole ordeal; Mom's sickness and death.



Then a young medical student named David got up and spoke about working in the anatomy lab, late one Saturday night. He was there by himself, and he accidentally brushed hands with his cadaver. He didn't think much of it, but then he stopped, and looked at the hand. He took the hand, her hand, in his and thought about all that that hand had done in its lifetime. He thought about her hand shaking other hands, caressing the arm of a loved one, comforting a child, clapping with happiness, preparing food, cleaning, writing. He spoke about the woman this hand belonged to, and wondered if she was a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter. He made himself leave the clinical detachment behind and see his cadaver as a woman, a person who once was. It was one of the most touching and honest things I have ever listened to.

They finished the service with a reading. Another medical student got up and read the names of all of the donors. When their name was read, if their family was present, the family stood up and received a rose from the students. Before he began, the student, whose name was George, talked about how he had stayed up until 4 a.m., reading the names of the people. He said that even if you are dead, even if you are poor, even if you are alone, the one thing everyone has is a name. It was the first time he had seen the names of the cadavers, and it struck him pretty hard. It's easy to remain detached if you don't know your cadaver's name. But with a name, they become human once again, and he realized that each one had a story, a family, friends, a life. He read them out loud, quietly, slowly, purposefully, and respectfully. It was really nice.

I miss her so much. Happy birthday Mom.