Random Ideas

I am stealing Liz's random idea, that she swiped from Holly , who grabbed it from... oh you get the idea. So here are 20 Random Things About Me:

1. My favorite thing in the world is ice cream.
2. I currently spend over one hour a day driving three kids to various activities.
3. I have successfully dieted twice, kept it off for many years, and then gained it all back.
4. I hate exercise. Maybe that was why I was in the "remedial" PE class in elementary school.
5. I have been knitting so long I do not remember learning.
6. I really do not like spending too much time away from home.
7. I have three children; two of whom are twins.
8. I wish I could play an instrument.
9. During the course of my lifetime I have wanted to be a nun, a psychiatric social worker, an actress, a singer; I ended up being a teacher. Except for the nun part...most days I get to be a little of all of the above.
10. I am good at my job, but often think about changing careers.
11. In theory I love the idea of having huge blocks of uninterrupted time; in practice I cannot stand it.
12. I cannot pick one favorite book, but if pressed: To Kill A Mockingbird.
13. I dream of living in loft in any city.
14. I dream of living on a farm.
15. I filled out the application for the PBS Frontier House series, but I never mailed it.
16. I do not attend a formal church, but think about my relationship with God daily.
17. Chewing gum gives me a headache.
18. I "write" the first paragraph of "my novel" in my head at night when I cannot sleep.
19. I hate Christmas.
20. I love the day after Christmas.

Is Tomorrow Really Monday? Again?

Last night I was sitting in my car watching my oldest through the front windows of the store where she works. It was closing time and she was scurrying back and forth: wiping, sweeping, vacuuming. And suddenly I had a vision of her as a toddler. Holding on to one of her Fisher-Price toys, doing that little walk that only 11 month olds do. Back and forth across the room, over and over again. That proud smile, that laugh. Hard to believe that was 16 years ago. But she still has that smile and a great laugh. What a wonderful young woman she is!

And so to those two people who decided they needed to be rude to my little sweetie who is trying very hard at her first job...
...to that grouchy old man who has had his entire life to learn patience: no...she is not "retarded or something" because she could not make your sandwich fast enough on her first day of work...

...to the lovely woman whose husband decided that he needed to rattle off the sandwich ingredients as A was making it...no...she did not "want him to come back there and make it for her."

And while I am at it...
...to the woman at the Transit Wegman's. Would it have killed you wait for me to get my cart completely out of the row before you walked in front of me and started pulling yours out?

I am honestly at the end of my tether with rude people. And I would tell them so, only that would be rude.

Knitting wise I attended the Guild's Shadow Knitting class. Cool, but something that I definitely could have taught myself. I may break down and buy the Vivian Hoxbro book. Stitch N Bitch also has a really cool alien scarf pattern.

Later this week: Christmas in September.

Agritainment

It is apple pickin' season and all the city folk are heading to the farms. Growing up surrounded by orchards on all 4 sides, I cannot help but find this amusing. Having trees full of fruit is something I always took for granted as a kid.

Each summer we were mesmerized by the bee man as he dropped the bee houses, but for some reason had a healthy respect for those buzzin boxes. We would spend hours plucking (shhhh...don't tell) the pink and white blossoms off the trees for our mud pies and other crafty creations. Throughout the summer my mother and I would run for the clothesline in a frenzy when we heard the spray truck start up. It meant extra loads of wash if the pesticide mist hit clothes :( And then the fruit! My sister and I literally made one fresh pie per night the year we learned to bake them in 4-H.

Now farms are something I do not understand. They have suddenly become a form of entertainment now known as Agritainment.



The first farm was purchased by a college grad with tons of ideas.
Murphy Orchards is located a few miles from my parents' house. It makes lots of fresh jams, jellies, and juices. Little old ladies can come and enjoy a civilized tea in the renovated room in the old farm house. Little kids and scout troops can see the hole in the barn that was part of the Underground Railroad. These are all worthwhile activities.



Next, we have Becker Farms. This is an old family farm that is simply responding to the times. It learned that it was simply more profitable to allow pre-school groups and families from the Buffalo suburbs that a day in the country was all about U-Pick apples, hayrides, and pasturized cider. Each weekend during the fall it is packed with families in SUVs and half bushels of apples. I think it is nearly impossible to find a family in the area that does not have great memories associated with this farm.

Now we move on to the real money maker. The Maize. For just $5.00 a head you can run wild through a field. Send away for a cool computerized planting schemata and look what you can do! Allow the little critters to smash the plants and have some wicked corn cob fights. Not to mention the great hidden corners for all the teens on the flashlight tours. C'mon, we know the maze police cannot see everything! It is also a great place for parents to dump their kids for an afternoon if no one is looking.



I know I sound bitter or something, but that really is not the point. It is just an old country girl amused by the changing times. Something like going on a whale watch and expecting Sea World. Know what I mean?

Why Are Weekends Only Two Days?

Yesterday Knox State Farm hosted its first fiber festival. I think for a first year, a decent showing. Knowing that I had over 10 pounds of fleece in my garage and two under bed storage containers plus full of yarn upstairs, really took the edge off of any buying desire. But I did buy a wonderful glass bracelet from a really talented artist! Another plus was the tons of good advice I was able to pick up while manning the Knitting Guild "Learn to Knit" area. There were several spinners set up - including this awesome woman who spent the day spinning dog fur!

September kicked the snot out of me. I am feeling totally overwhelmed with the back to school routine. Today I washed about 1/3 of the fleece and started combing with some dog slicker brushes. I now have some lovely, soft rolags piled in my basket. However, I also have a HUGE pile of not combed fleece on the picnic table. I think it is safe to leave it there for a day or two...the temps are still unseasonably warm. October and 77 degrees usually does not happen around here!

It's Knit Night!

Guess what time it is? Time for me to have some fun! No, I am not running off to the races. I was bummin' cause I had missed the Hemlock Fiber Festival, but San Diego was almost as fun as being knee deep in fiber!

Anyway, this weekend Knox State Farm is hosting its first Fiber Arts Festival! And I cannot wait. So yes, Bonnie, I will be there!

I shall not jinx myself, but this day is going a bit too smoothly. K does not have scouts, E got in a good car pool for drama, dinner is in the oven, and I actually have all my papers graded until tomorrow morning. Nothing to do but make one car run and go to knit night. Happy, happy...

P.S. I have returned from Knit Night and am now not so happy. One of the girls brought a woman who evacuated from New Orleans with her husband and 2 children. How brave she is! I would not be able to move from pure despair! Her house was spared from the waters, but not from looters. They are currently living with her father. Her husband's job no longer exists in NO, but they are willing to transfer his position here - she wants to return. It was interesting to learn that they have evacutated the city 12 times in the 13 years she has lived there.

I Know, My Husband Already Told Me

So I've spun every piece of fiber I own. I stumble across a new spinning, weaving, yarn kinda store. I enter the store, and immediately am greeted by a woman working on a loom (one of two) in one of the large storefront windows. The owner is sitting in the opposite side of the room. So I tell her I am a new spinner, and need something to work on (did that translate into something else in her mind?). So anyway....

First she shows me the lovely undyed something with random bits of VM. I receive instructions on Kool Aid dying. Nah...not really what I had in mind. "No? Let me think.... Oh! OH! I know! Follow me!" Her enthusiasm is contagious. What is it? I feel like a kid on an adventure.

We go to the back of the store. The part you can always see, but cannot enter. "Come on, " she frantically gestures. She grabs large, overstuffed garbage bags, dragging them to the front. "Where is it? This one? no....this one? no....Here, oh just wait!"

The bag opens and suddenly I have entered the barn...my husband says the zoo, but what the heck...it's animal pooh no matter what your point of references. Lovely, energetic shop lady tells me how this fleece is one of four from a poor group of neglected sheep. This fleece is the result of TWO years of growth (thus the extra piquant aroma). Nice lady advises me that I should spin this in the grease, as is - no combing, carding anything! Can she be right? I keep thinking, if I run this through my wheel, my orifice will be permanently lubed and FILTHY! She promised me she personally skirted the nasty thing and removed all tags, and whatever you call the urine stained (eeeesh) areas.


Some staple length, huh?

As keen observers of the obvious, I am sure you have all deduced I walked out the door with this fleece (and some felting needles...at least I KNOW those will get used).

So, if anyone out there is accustomed to working with raw, greased, whatever the heck you call fresh off the sheep fleece, could you please tell what to do. I think I should wash it first. I do not have combs, but I really think I can, if careful, just spin directly off the gently, freshly washed pieces.

Although I love the lanolin, I do not like the barnyard in the house.

A Life

When DH and I moved into our house, daughter A was a 1 1/2 year old toddler. A few months later ground broke on the adjoining lot and in moved a friendly couple with two pre-teens. The years went by and we watched those two kids doing all the things teenagers do. I can remember countless nights thinking their games of driveway basketball and conversations in the front yard would never stop! There was an endless parade of friends and family in and out of that home.

Bob and his sister eventually went off to college. The skinny young kid became a young ROTC officer. He embraced his role in the United States Army. He became a very proud soldier and officer who shared his parents love of country and God.

Bob went to Iraq. His parents heard the good things: the roadways he and his unit protected with their tank, the little kids who squealed with delight when they saw the American soldiers roll into their village. The e-mails he wrote to his sister told the truth: the daily attacks he faced, being spit upon by Iraqi citizens, the fear that would not leave him, and a nagging doubt that began to follow him.

And then it was over. Bob was home on leave and then returned to his unit in Germany. Basic training exercises are a part of a soldier's daily routine...and this day should have been like all the others. He became a victim when crossing railroad tracks in his tank, a high voltage line arched.

Bob received 3rd degree burns over 70% of his body. His face, upper chest, and arms were unharmed; his torso and legs were severely damaged. The civilian hospital in Germany is credited for saving his life. They also took his right leg above the knee. Bob spent the next four months in San Antonio, Texas at the Army's burn and amputee hospital. His fiancee left her teaching job in New York State to stay by his side. His father sold his business. His mother's employer told her to take as long as she needed. His sister delayed her wedding. And we prayed.

Despite the numerous skin grafts, infections, ventilator problems and problems too numerous to mention, Bob's parents remained optimistic. They often told us how lucky their son was in comparison to the other brave soldiers that were brought in day after day. Four months dragged by.

Progress was good, the skin grafts were taking. He was being weaned from the ventilator and moved to a "sitting" position for longer periods of time each day. All he wanted was to go home.

Bob died yesterday morning.

For what we now feel - there are no words.