Seeking Advice...

What can I say. If only blog posts composed in the head would magically appear on screen then I would be obscenely prolific. But if the choice comes down to blogging about doing a thing or actually doing a thing, then the doing wins out. Time is precious and all that.

Luckily for the one or two remaining followers of this blog, some of my Christmas gift knitting has already been received and opened, so I am free to share what I've been up to.



First up a pair of pink socks, Par 5 is the pattern. I quite liked this knit. Impressive results. Knit for a friend of mine who wanted to gift them to her sister. I hope she was pleased.



Next, this irresistible little guy that I knit for my nephew for Christmas. I'm really not one for monkeys, they just don't do it for me, but I have to admit, I was thoroughly charmed by this little fellow. As was little A. She kept chatting with him while he was being constructed and assembled. Methinks she might enjoy one of her own.



For my niece who is a huge Tinkerbell fan, a pair of Tink slippers. Just regular felted slippers with gigantic white pom-poms. I have to say, I was pretty geeked about these once they were assembled. I was told that they were such a hit that they had to accompany my niece to bed the night she opened them up. Now that is high praise indeed.

There has been various other items in there as well, some of which are still in transit and some of which I unfortunately did not photograph before they left my possession. C'est la vie.

Now here is where I ask for some advice. It's of the parenting variety, for those of you who may be so inclined. My daughter likes to screech. You know the kind, that high pitched squeal/scream that only banshees and toddlers are capable of. It started out as just a means of exploring her vocal range and has quickly turned into a way of torturing me, since I have a very low threshold for noise. I had tubes in my ears as a child and was VERY sensitive to loud noises back then and have since discovered, still am today.

This screeching...it goes beyond just annoying or bothersome for me. It's like drilling an ice pick into my temple that somehow finds it's way to the very core of my being. And since she is a) my child and b) my daughter, she innately knows just how insane this noise makes me and now uses it to express her frustration and displeasure when she doesn't want to do what she has been asked or told. A couple of weeks ago, she was so incessant with this bloody sound that it literally gave me a headache. For days.

I'm sure that the effect that this screaming has on me is exacerbated by the fact that we spend ALL of our time with one another. My husband doesn't *quite* get the full effect, answering my pleas of cessation with 'she's a kid. Kids do that.'

So my question to you, dear blog, is how do I make it stop? Or am I doomed to just have to live with it until she outgrows it? I really really don't like it. As a matter of fact, I hate it. I hate it in the house, I hate it with a mouse; I hate it in the store, please little A, no more. She's a good bean, and really, this is my only complaint, so I consider myself lucky. But it does drive me nuts.

Anyhoo, hope y'all have a good holiday, yo. Catch you in 2011!

Until later...

Death by Cute...

Just when I thought things in this house couldn't get any cuter, I stumbled upon this tutorial at Twelve Crafts Till Christmas. I was hunting around for some doll accessory patterns and this fit the bill to a tee. Don't tell little A, but I sent a request off to Santa for some doll furniture, and since she's been super awesome all year long, I'm thinking he just might bring it. She loves her baby dolls and I love crafting, so it really was a perfect storm.

Diaper bag and accessories

Can you stand it? Cuz I can't. Seriously. That little pack of diaper wipes took a total of nine seconds to make and it just makes my teeth clench to look at it. And yes, I even overlap-folded the 'wipes' so that when you pull one, another will pop up.



This project cost me a grand total of zero dollars since I had everything I needed in my stash. Have I mentioned before how much I love having a little girl???

It's going to very difficult to sit on this one till Christmas. I hope she loves it as much as I do. Until later...

I'm Forever Cutting Circles...

I think I might have some kind of manic craft disorder. I can go for long spells where I have no desire for crafting. That would be the low end of the cycle. Then I cycle up to where I am now, in hyper craft drive, where I can't seem to stop myself and leave a pile of projects in my wake. Here's what I've been up to lately.

I volunteered to make a cake for my friends daughters birthday. She was having a Halloween themed party this year, and was looking for a witch cake. After a little contemplation (and research on the interwebs) I came up with this;



Yep, that's all cake. Well, except for the hat brim and ribbon. I had a heck of a time trying to make black icing, so I went with a purple hat and what I like to refer to as a copper kettle for the witches cauldron. Hey, it's cake. It's more important that it taste good (which by all reports, it did). I made the card too. I KNOW. Paper is usually not my medium, but a while back I finally bought the paper dolls cartridge for my Cricut Expression machine (it was a gift if you recall) and I gotta tell ya...it's fun. I never thought I would find myself making cards, but there you have it.

I also never thought I would find myself making wreaths, but in the past week I've done not one, but two. I saw a tutorial this time last year at WhipUp for this ruffly felt circle wreath and my initial instinct upon seeing it was MUST MAKE. However, the thought of cutting a billion felt circles with the tools already in my arsenal didn't appeal. Which lead me to buy a circle rotary cutter recently.



Now I'm addicted to cutting circles. I need project ideas that require circle cutting. Any ideas? I need to justify the purchase of the tool for something other than felt circle wreaths (although I could make a couple more of those too. Quite a quick project to put together, and the result is pretty and satisfying. I'm thinking either one in Christmas colours or another in blues and white to go with my living room Christmas decor). The wreath is almost finished, I just ran out of felt last night. You really do need to buy it by the meter for this project. It takes quite a bit more than you think.



I saw something similar to this at one of my local yarn shops and thought 'Ooo, that's charming.' Yes, I say stuff like that to myself. So I picked up a small wreath at the dollar store and hot glued some yarn balls from yarn stash to it and badda bing, badda boom, you gotcha self a wreath. I'm thinking some small knitting needles or double points might be in order somewhere on there as well.



Also for the aforementioned birthday girl, I knit this matching sweater and hat set for her Build-a-Bear friend Bunny (which I guess would make her a Build-a-Bunny, but I digress). I wish I had thought to snap a photo of Bunny modelling her ensemble. She was quite fetching in her new digs.



I've also been stash busting. I threw together this trick or treat bag for Miss A out of stash materials. I inherited this rather hefty orange canvas that I wasn't sure what to do with, but it came in handy. I've also made two of these and two of these but they are going to be gifts, so I'll just leave that as a teaser.



Finally, I finished this quite some time ago and have been meaning to throw it up here, but just haven't gotten around to it. It's a little cloth book that I put together for Miss A and was mostly assembled for her first birthday. It's genesis dates back to, hmmm, 2006? when I cut out all the pages and the letters.



I used the left over material from A's crib set to make the covers and remnants out of my fabric stash for the letters. I wish I had been able to do a little bit better job of outlining the letters, like say machine embroidery or something, but after four years, I just really wanted it completed so the quick and dirty route seemed to fit the bill.

And that pretty much sums it up for the time being. I'm currently caught up in a flurry of Christmas projects that I'll be gobsmacked if they're done on time. Every year I swear I won't do this to myself and then do it anyway. Guess I'll go pick one to work on for a while. Until later...

My Girly Girl...

There will be people out there who deny what I am about to say until they are blue in the face, but sometimes stereotypes turn out to be true. I don't know as I would have wholly believed it myself until my wee one came into my life but there are just innate, fundamental differences between little boys and little girls. In my case, my little miss A is all girly girl.

I will admit that I have zero issue with dressing her in pink at any and all opportunity. I delight in doing her hair. Dresses make me all squishy inside. And then of course there were the 20+ pairs of Robeez in her closet before she was even born (cut me SOME slack, most of those were hand-me-downs). That being said, I also delight in watching her get dirty when she plays, buy her Tonka trucks and get equally squishy when she sits down to watch football or hockey with her dad. My mantra from day one has always been if she's happy, I'm happy.

But try as I might, she really does dote on her baby dolls to the exclusion of the Tonka's. The first time I took her into Payless, her eyes got as wide as saucers, her little index finger pointed in the air and she let a breathless 'SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEESSSSS' escape from her tiny mouth. I brought a bag full of summer clothes home from Walmart (of the Damned...can't say Walmart without adding that at the end) and she trailed after me wailing until I realized that she wanted to inspect and examine the contents. There she was, sitting on the kitchen floor, holding up her outfits and smiling with approval. You can't teach this stuff.

Then there was the day that she started doing this;



That's just a little plastic bag that some doll accessories came in, but one day, I happened to glance up from whatever and there she was, parading around the house with her little bag in the crook of her elbow. Shortly after that, I picked up a little silver clutch from Frenchy's and today, miss Fancy Pants had to have it with her at lunch.


The lady who lunches

She's all about mimicking now, wanting to do what I do. I think it's fantastic. Watching her learn something new every day is really the most incredible part of being able to stay at home with her as I do. She'd been wanting to use my broom and dustbin prior to our trip to PEI, so I had it in my mind to get her her own little set of cleaning tools. I remember playing with my own when I was a child and just the mere fact that they were scaled down for my size delighted me. Sure enough, I found a complete set at that fabulous toy store I mentioned in my last post.



Best...purchase...ever. There hasn't been a day pass since that she hasn't swept or mopped or toted her little cleaning bucket around. She even learned how to empty her little dustbin in to the garbage. Best part? That's the only time she ever opens the garbage. Hysterical.

Domestic goddess in training

I've even conned her into doing her own laundry. 'Bout time she started earning her keep around here.



After a long, gruelling day of housework, a little preening is in order. Always best to keep up appearances.

All in all, she's a hoot. I can't get enough of her. I could go on all day, but I suppose this will suffice for now.

Until later...

October Light...

I really don't know how it got to be October already. I mean that. I've been in such summer ending denial that even the other day, as I was culling my daughters drawers and closet of pretty little summer outfits that tragically, weren't worn long enough at all, I still kept a few tops and skirts and shorts near the top of the pile kidding myself into believing that there may yet be a few more warm days. But the cold is coming. I can smell it. Winter is there, lurking, like the giant Nothing that threatened all of Fantasia in the Neverending Story. I really don't know what it is about this year, but the prospect of the unceasing void of dull and dark and grey has me gripped in a vice of dread that I can't seem to shake off.

On that happy note, it's nice to be back. It was an unintentional absence I guess. I've been grappling with the fact that this is a hobby blog and I rarely hobby at all any more. I have a bolt of fabric in the craft room for curtains, a half spun bobbin of fiber on the wheel, three quarters of a pair of socks still lingering on the needles. Lots of great ideas, little to no ambition when the days work is done at 8 pm. I've come to terms with it. A few stitches here, a sideways glance at all my former creative outlets looking forlorn and collecting dust. I really don't know how some people do it. But, with the onset of autumn, I seem to be feeling the spark of renewed interest. My cooking mojo is slowly returning. I actually want to finish those damn socks cuz it's driving me crazy. I have clear deadlines for a few projects I'd like to finish. Other than that, it's all gravy.

Part of this may have to do with the fact that I recently got back from a wee vacation. The constable, myself, the wee one and the constable's brother's family all loaded up and headed off to PEI for a week. I hadn't been since I was six or so. I was looking forward to going back.

With two couples and three kids total, we rented a cottage. This was it



and it was awesome. Plenty of room, all the amenities you'd need and a hot tub. With a view of the strait. Score.

After settling in, our first road trip was to Cavendish, natch, to visit Green Gables. The movie had just come out prior to my last visit, a million years ago, and my mom had read me the book prior to our trip as well, so going to Anne's house back then was a HUGE deal to me. I heart Anne, always have. Going back I felt like a kid again. I wanted to jump up and down.



I'm such an Anne dork that I put both little A and myself in braids for the occassion. Anyhow, with kids in tow, we didn't spend as much time there as I would've liked but opted instead to check out the Avonlea village attraction thing which, surprise surprise, was closed for the season (it being September and all). Rather disappointed in that one. Looked like it would've been fun for the wee ones. Always next year I guess. I did manage to drop a stupid amount of money in the Anne gift shop however, getting all the movies on DVD and some raspberry cordial.



The whole area is just one big Annapalooza, and I ate it right up.

Speaking of eating, we weren't far from the Cows Creamery factory, so we did a little day trip there as well.



Maybe the best ice cream I've had. Pretty darn creamy.

Then there was Charlottetown and shopping and the discovery of perhaps the happiest place on earth, a toy-slash-yarn store. Yes, you heard me correctly. Toy-slash-yarn. The place was called Owl's Hollow and I could've spent all day there. I was expecting the yarn selection to be of the Walmart variety, but I was pleasently surprised and picked up some Diamond Baby Alpaca Sport and some skeins of a merino silk blend (couldn't find a link to that) both in pretty shades of blue (no photo, cuz they're upstairs and I'm down here and it's already taken me three months to get back to blogging. If I leave now, there's not telling when I'll get back here). I also picked up some fiber for spinning from the Rustico Bay Wool Sweater Company and some other knitty/sweatery/wooly/gifty shop in Charlottetown. The fiber there came from Belfast Mini Mills, another place I'd like to check out if I ever make it back.

Then, on the last day of our trip, before we headed back to NS, we took in one of the events of the Fall Flavours Festival with takes place during the month of September on PEI. See, the constable and I and his brother and wife, we're big fans of food and cooking and perhaps the eating most of all. We were pretty excited about the prospect of an ENTIRE month dedicated to good eats. Some of the events on the calendar were a bit out of our price range however, but there was a family picnic scheduled the day we had to check out of the cottage. So we headed back to the Cavendish area on our last day for lunch.

If you're familiar with the Festival then you might know that it's hosted by chef Michael Smith, the Food Network's Chef At Home (here in Canada at least...not sure about the States). I'm a fan, so is my sister-in-law, and, well,



we got to meet him too. I bought a cookbook, got a signature and on Sunday night, we made page 196



the Potato Bacon Cheddar Tart. People...this dish is life changing. It's two pounds of bacon. It's bacon pie. If you want your man to be putty in your hands, make this. Then lord it over him for the rest of your life. "If you finish those bathroom renovations today, I'll make bacon piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."
Despite the fact that we didn't make any of the other culinary events, the entire week was full of epic dinners that were full of awesomeness. A roast over an open fire, a lobster feed, fettucini alfredo with enough butter and cream to make your heart stop. *Sigh* It was delightful. We concluded that it's probably best that the four of us don't live closer together since we'd all likely be pushing three bills by now.

So those were the highlight. It was nice to get away and even nicer to visit with family. I took a whole heap of knitting stuff with me and barely knit a stitch. But I've got a bunch of projects lined up from now until Christmas, so hopefully I'll have more success in both the hobby and blog departments.

Until later...

Getting Started Early...

I picked up a Regal catelogue while wating for some take-out the other day and I am SO glad I did. I am getting way ahead on my Christmas list.



I know what you're thinking. You wish you were on my list.

In a Spin...

So I bought a spinning wheel. It's the new toy I mentioned a few posts back. A friend of mine was looking to sell hers, so I took it for a test drive and was instantly hooked. I had taken a spinning class (of the wool variety, not the cycling kind) a while ago now, and while I was smitten, I was left with only drop spindles to play with and they really didn't do it for me. I had been contemplating getting a wheel for a long while, but was really hesitant to spend that kind of money on something I wasn't entirely sure I'd be any good at. Enter my knitty friend, who's wheel I had played with before, and was selling complete with lazy kate and bobbins.



There was also some fiber in that deal and within two or three days, my experimentations lead to this. About 175 yrds. of the green and 100 yrds. of the candy cane looking stuff. I really have very little idea of what I'm doing, but it's fun and yeilding interesting results :) Spinning enough yarn to actually knit something out of it, I'm learning, takes a good while.

So naturally, as with any new toy, it's hoarding all of the time an attention. Very little to speak of on the knitting front. I started a sock yarn blanket, just garter stitch miters, and despite the lace shawl and the double-knitting scarf I have on the needles at the moment, the itty-bitty squares are what I seem to be gravitating to. Perhaps it's the appeal of mindless summer knitting.

Since I seem to be up before the baby this morning, I think I'll sneak into the craft room for a little spinning session. Until later...

The Saddest Fashion Show Ever...

I think fate has dealt me a cruel irony. For as much as I love handknits, my daughter really does not care for them.

I was weeding through her closet recently and decided to get a few last pictures of her in some of her precious little sweaters. The one pictured above was knit by a friend of mine, Nova Knitter and it still kinda fits in the shoulders. Makes the sweetest little 3/4 sleeve cardi. Maybe come September we'll still be able to get away with it on occassion.



Here she is upset over the fact that I'm forcing her to wear a sweater she does not want to wear, but pausing momentarily because she still likes having her picture taken.



"I don't get paid enough for this. Where is my agent?? Bring me a non-fat soy latte...and my elephant teether. NOW."

All's Quiet...

Despite the fact that I can go long stretches without speaking to another adult human being, there are some up sides to the constable being gone for ten days. Number one on my list is the fact that when I tidy an area, it stays tidy. I don't realize how much time I spend going around and tidying up little messes (and how much it aggravates me to no end) until I don't have to do it for a little while. I clear the kitchen table and holy cannoly, it stays that way for more than 20 minutes.

Number 2; I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want. This just basically means that I can have whatever kind of vegetables I want, and only vegetables if I want, for supper, which is exactly how it's been for the last three nights. The constable hates onions and peppers, so I gorge on them while he's away. One night it was stir-fry. Last night it was a veggie sub. It's been lovely. I don't think I'll eat a single meal of meat while he's gone. Whee :)

That's pretty much the extent of what gets me excited about having the house to myself. The rest of it kinda blows. I guess I could put 'total tv domination' on the list, but really, I only half watch whatever is on anyway, since I'm usually knitting. And when I'm not, I'm asleep on the couch. As long as there is some sort of background noise, I'm cool with it (accept for the vuvuzela. It just weirds me out).

So here's what I've been knitting.



A while back I finished up this little mitered blankie cuz one of my Knit Nite ladies was on a blankie jag and I caught the fever (the cure for which, incidentally, was not more cow bell, but garter stitch). It's sweet, easy, and highly entertaining for a simpleton such as myself, who seems to find endless fascination in watching colours change. Little A started showing interest in playing with her baby dolls ('bee-bees') around the time I finished it, so it's now hers to wrap and unwrap (or smother, whatever) her little darlings in. Also works well for playing peek-a-boo.



I mentioned in my last post that I was in the midst of making an elephant for little A and her cut you to the core adorable rendition of an elephants trumpeting. I think the resulting finished object lives up to that level of cuteness. The pattern is Elijah by Ysolda Teague but I prefer to call him Harry Elephante. Do elephants like bananas? You can't really see them, but he does have eyes. I couldn't find black embroidery thread in my stash, but I'm going to have to make the trip to the dollar store. These invisible eyes will not do. The scarf however...is tres chic, non?



The other day, I was in my craft room organizing. That's all I seem to get accomplished in there. There is always a mountain of crap or paperwork or whathaveyou that stands between me and projects I'd like to do, so I am forever filing and organizing and destashing and very rarely do I get actual crafting done in there. I did an big overall household purge last week (which felt fantastic...I'm on a bit of a tear now) and resolved that whatever yarn I had in my stash at least had to have an intended purpose. If I could look at the yarn and think of a project, it could stay. Needless to say, very little yarn made it out of the stash bins to be disposed of. Anyhow, I got reacquainted with my Zauberball yarn, which I heart, big time, and went hunting on Ravelry for project ideas, other than the obvious go-to of socks. I came across some beautiful shawl patterns at Monika Eckert Wolle und Design. Lovely. This one is the Steife Brise shawl. Again, totally fascinated with watching the gradual colour changes.

That's pretty much it on the knitting front for the time being. Next post, I'll tell y'all about my new toy. Totally addictive.

Until later...

A Day in the Life...(without the awesome guitar/piano riff at the end)

It's been going a little something like this;

6-ish am; wake up to crying baby in next room, which is unusual since she always wakes up happy and chatty. Wait a few minutes to see if crying will subside into usual morning babble only to hear it escalate into painful wails. Greeted at baby's bedroom door with unmistakable wiff of hours old feces filled diaper. Attend to said diaper and red-raw bottom, roughly the colour of an over ripe tomato. Feel awful for one very sore little girl and curse the mother who fed her an orange for dessert last night, which undoubtedly made this whole mess that much more acidic.

Just after 6-ish; run luke warm tub just to soak little tomato bottom.

6:30-ish; attempt to re-dress and re-diaper as gently as possible little tomato bottom and the understandably very unhappy little girl it is attached to.

7-ish; finally get myself dressed and both of us downstairs where we have a brief respite consisting of milk (her) and The Daily Show (me).

7-8; Tomato bottom plays happily while I knit on the purple elephant I've decided to make her because she finally started making the elephant sounds I've been trying to teach her for months and she makes them whenever she sees a picture of an elephant. It's so cute I could knit her a whole herd.

8-ish; Breakfast for all, including an attempt at feeding the dog I no longer recognize who has recently become aggressive and territorial about his food. Nearly get face bitten off. Not kidding.

9 am; Call dog trainer/kennel owner to book in angry dog while my company is here visiting next week. Have brief conversation about latest behavioural development, which has her as puzzled as I. Tells me she had no such problems during his last stay. She even pet him while he was eating. Bully for her.

9:30 am; Have minor breakdown in bathroom over angry dog and what to do with him while trying to get ready to go to grocery store.

10-11 am; Make it to grocery store. Normally my most hated destination, now becomes a haven of peace and tranquility.

11-ish; Return home to find I've left the remainder of my grocery bags at the store. Call customer service to report missing bags. Am told they will call me if anyone turns them in. Get off the phone grumpy, feeling owed free bags. Find bags under groceries in last bag. Feel stupid.

Noon; Put now sleepy, but relatively content baby to bed after lunch. Have to re-diaper. Still not fun.

After noon-ish; Attempt to play with angry dog. He won't drop the ball for me to throw it. This has always been the case. Give up in defeat.

1 pm; Decide I'm going to stake out area for sandbox I'm planning to build. Have to rescue angry dog at one point as he has wound himself all around the cement post he's attached to.

After 1-ish; attempt to open up weed sprayer so I can kill the weeds in the staked out area of where the sandbox will be. Cannot open sprayer. Give up in defeat and think seriously of hiring someone to do all of this for me cuz the world hates me and I can't get anything accomplished.

1:30-ish; Am followed by strong wiff of dog feces. Wonder why my entire life now consists of dealing with so much shit. Literally. Scold dog for what I suspect is him having eaten his own crap, which he does on occasion, for no earthly reason that I can glean. Completely abandon my project in defeat, pour clean bowl of water for angry dog which he won't drink. Then make him eat half a container of treats just to get that smell away from me.

1:45-ish; Pour remaining cup of coffee from this morning's pot, re-heat and decide to plant my ass on the couch and watch trashy television, since it's now quite obvious that this day is going a whole lot of nowhere. See out front window that back hatch of van is still up from this morning when I brought the groceries home. Abandon coffee, put on sandals I was wearing in the back yard to walk through kitchen and hallway (just mopped BTW) and out front door to close hatch. Come back into the house through the front door, down hallway and into kitchen whereupon I discover that the shit smell was coming from the bottom of my own shoe. Take shoe out into front yard to find a stick, clean off shoe.

2:03 pm; Hear normally great sleeping baby start to cry as I am writing blog post, which I will likely have to abandon, since there is a very good chance that she has pooped. Wonder when husband will be home from his latest overnight work related seminar. Remember that he is leaving again in two weeks for ten days. Give up in defeat.

51 Hank-free days...

I'm home now, and I should be cleaning. Having been gone for 51 days, there is a film covering my domicile and it's making my skin crawl. The constable, who was here for the majority of the time, did what he could to keep up while he was working shifts, but my being the primary caretaker of just about everything in this house, he's bound to miss the details that only my trained eye would catch. Like the fact that the upstairs toilet was orange. I can see how that would be easy to miss.

We had planned on heading to Ontario in May anyway for our friends wedding, and then with my unexpected early departure, I decided just to stay from the end of March until our scheduled return on the 19th. 51 days is a long time to be away from home. So long in fact that I started to forget what it was like to live here and had come to accept that I now lived back in Ontario. My perpetually under construction little hovel felt like a fantasy. And the transitions back and forth take a little getting used to. Here are some random thoughts on the matter;

Driving in Ontario is immensely satisfying. I can go very very fast and no one cares. I can be rude and cut people off, and no one cares. I can yell and scream and curse in my car, and it goes virtually unnoticed. Pedestrians have to look out for me. And I have more than one option for getting somewhere. Getting rid of my Ontario driver rage is very difficult when returning to Nova Scotia. It's been over three years now, and I still haven't totally shaken it.

There is a lot of shopping to be done back in ON. Grief and retail therapy go hand in hand.

The humidity back home, now that my system has become acclimated to the Atlantic weather, is overwhelming. And it was only April for goodness sake.

It's nice and quiet here.

As much as I'd like to believe that my stuff isn't hugely important to me, I've been greatly comforted by being surrounded by it again.

I don't care how much you make fun of me, I really really love driving my mini-van.

It was really nice and felt somewhat luxurious to smell the chlorine from the treated water coming out of the tap, and not really have to worry whether I'm using too much cuz I'm constantly thinking about the well.

Gas at one gas station in my hometown was as low as 87.5 and never got over a dollar the entire time I was there. And still people complained.

I bought a tray of chicken breasts for a little over $5.00. Not on sale.

I had peameal bacon. Try as I might, I cannot find it in town here.

There are no exotic yarn stores in or around my hometown. Anywhere. That being said, I did find four balls of mohair at Value Village and my bff gave me the Rowan she
scored there as well. Thus, I was gone so long I began to accumulate another yarn stash.

I was Hank-free for well over a month. And it was good.

Don't get me wrong, I love the guy. Just that he's got some issues, and his issues bring out my issues and it's just a stress fest most of the time. And he's friggin' gigantic. The constable dropped little A and I off from the airport the other night and went right back out to the kennel to pick up the big galoot. When I saw him again for the first time, I really and truly had forgotten how big he is. Might have more to do with the fact that my in-laws (with whom A and I were staying) have a Jack Russell that is 15 lbs., if that. Hank's head weighs fifteen pounds. He's just this solid wall of fur and fluff and need that follows me around all day and ruins my flooring. And he smells like the kennel. But I'm glad to see him. I'm hoping we can figure out how to get out for some more walks together, just he and I, now that the weather is nice.

I did knit while I was gone. As soon as I'm settled and organized, I'll likely start posting about that as well. Just thought I would poke my head out and say hi for now.

Until later...

Everything that's gone...

There is inevitably a point at which, if you have one, your virtual life will intersect with your real life and you'll have to make a decision as to what you feel comfortable with talking about to practical strangers online. It's very odd really. Blogs are mostly minutiae, trivial hobbies and musings that carry very little emotional weight. At least that's what my blog is to me. A little corner to escape to.

So I took a little break and maybe, if there is anyone still out there following along, you've wondered why. Well, seeing as there is really no way of easing into such a subject, it is simply this; my mother passed away nearly three weeks ago. She was ill for quite some time, and now she's gone. I was able to see her before she passed, as was little A, which I'm grateful for.

And that's pretty much all I'm willing to say about that. Grief is a strange beast, a process, a journey, and I'm taking it where it leads me. Life is slowly getting back to normal after feeling as though I was living in suspended animation.

Everything has changed yet all stays the same and I feel as though a metamorphosis is taking place. I don't know if or how this little corner of my virtual life will fit in anymore, but I'm not ready to give it up just yet. For now, I'll give you this;



Standing, creeping, shuffling...getting ready to someday run.



Loving the park next to Oma and Opa's (the constable's parents) on crazy warm spring days.

That's all for now. Until later...

BRB...

The plate, she is full. Taking a bit of a blog break. Hang in there folks, I'll be back at some point.

Until later...

The 365th Day...

She started out as just a thought. A what if. A wouldn't it be nice.



Then the thought turned into a reality, a squirmy alien in the belly. After a long, long wait, she was there. All pink and puffy and fully formed, looking like me and like him and like everyone on both sides of our families, all at the same time. The world seemed to stop, and there was only the three of us in this cocoon of time and space.



We brought her home and she grew.







She grew and she grew and she grew.





And as she grew, I did too.



She changed me on a cellular level.





I think of all that wasn't here a year ago. The little voice coming from the little bedroom in the morning. The toys taking over the house. All the little books and little shoes and little clothes that mean that there is a little person here who is slowly carving out a space in the world.



And I think about the joy. The pure, uncensored, unadulterated joy that explodes from her being. The belly laughs. The giggles. The never ending smiles. The joy we feel in watching her learn to do the simplest things. The joy in just having her near.







Mostly though, I'm just grateful. Grateful to put her to bed each night under peaceful skies, secure in the knowledge we'll wake up the same. Grateful to not have to worry how I am going to feed her or keep her safe. Grateful that she is healthy and growing and bright. Grateful that, unlike too many mothers around the world, I get to watch her turn one.



I can't and don't want to imagine my life without you in it. Happy Birthday baby girl.



PS: On a less sentimental note, I don't think I ever properly thanked you for helping to clear up my adult acne. Much appreciated.