Summer's End

Sunset over the Saco River

 "What good is the warmth of summer,                                  

                      without the cold of winter to give it sweetness."

                                                                                                     ------John Steinbeck

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So I consulted the calendar, and it told me that the last of day of summer this year is September 23.

This year, more than ever, I feel very rushed by the cadence of time passing me by.  

I don't tolerate heat well, and for years, by the time August rolls around, I am checking weather forecasts hoping to see cooler temperatures in the offing.

Not sure why, but not so this year.  I am more at peace with Summer.  I have embraced sweating perspiring, and learned to love a cool and refreshing afternoon bath.  And then there's the sprinkler to keep growing things going; make sure to wear flip flops, cool water on the feet always helps.

Oh my gosh, I just love these two sooooo much! (Evan and Christina)

 It probably has more to do with my Empty Nest.  The youngest has gone off to college, as have the older two, who were home for the summer.

Caution:  Wake

So, I'm going to eeeaase myself along through this transition.  First, I'll recap the summer, and get some of its stories off my chest.  And then, I'll strike out for the adventures the future holds.  

Coming with me?

The times, they are a-changin'

Storm clouds scudding over Biddeford Pool at high tide

Wow.  Yup, it's been a long time.  I gave serious thought to shutting down this blog, due to my not feeling inspired to express myself.  And yet, I'm back.  Who knows what changes my motivation....
There certainly has been no lack of happenings in my life.  Maybe I've had a lot of attention consumed by other people's life events, drawing me away from my simple pastimes.  The little avocations that are easier to share, like needlework and domestic arts like cooking and sewing.

Here's a little update on what has consumed my attention and time for the last several months.

David.  David is doing quite well.  Now.  We have been through some seriously scary times.  He was in a clinical trial for a new cancer drug, to which he seemed to respond beautifully.  The study protocol then introduced the older drug, and his troubles began.  It's not clear to me whether the older drug caused the problems, or if it resulted from the addition of the older drug after the newer drug.  You see, both drugs work by stimulating/facilitating the body's immune system to kill off the cancerous melanocytes. Some people experience complications that seem to be primarily related to inflammation in organs unrelated to the melanocytes.  The more commonly noted conditions are pneumonitis and colitis, inflammation of the lungs, and the large intestine.  In severe cases, the inflammation can render the afflicted to be minimally functional, even to the extent of complete failure.  And when major organs fail, it is life-threatening.  The treatment is high-dose corticosteroids to fight the inflammation and thus allow a return to normal function. This buys time to determine and treat the cause of the inflammatory response.  David developed severe colitis and moderately severe pneumonitis.  He ended up in a hospital bed for 5 weeks!  And since that time, he has been fighting from all the complications of which there have been many, including adrenal failure, GI bleeding, severe anemia, requiring blood transfusions, malnutrition requiring intravenous feeding, deep venous thromboses requiring blood-thinning and complicating the GI bleeding and anemia, pulmonary embolism, taxing his already compromised lung function, atrial fibrillation, which I attribute to the strain on his heart by the PE and anemia.  Oh yeah, and opportunistic infections from his immunocompromised state, including fungal pneumonia, systemic cytomegalovirus and possibly bacterial pneumonia.  Oh yeah, and diabetes due to the steroids, requiring insulin injections and blood sugar testing 4x a day.  Fortunately, he has recovered from most of these complications.  In March, he had some back pain from one of the tumors in a vertebra compressing his spinal cord, and received a week of radiation.  Next week, he is due for his quarterly check-up to see if tumors are still receding or staying the same size, or if they are growing or spreading.
Whew, writing the David update has taken a lot of words and energy, so I'll quit for now.

Things are looking up

What a lovely summer it has been.  We have had a cooler summer than usual, having never even seen a single day where the temperature reached 90 degrees.  We're getting a little warmth and humidity now, but not unbearable.  Living on Maine's coast the way we do, we do not have central air conditioning.  There are so few times that we really wish we did.  Oh yes, it gets hot, and we find ourselves languishing in front of fans, but the worst is usually over in a few  hours.  A couple of weeks ago, it felt like autumn was arriving, with daily highs in the 70s, and nightly lows in the 50s -- heaven!

I have kept myself busy with household and family activities.  My two college boys were home.  All three of the boys came home filthy each day, having worked hard on a landscaping crew that helps keep Kennebunk and Kennebunkport looking immaculately manicured. (Laundry hint here:  1/2 cup of Borax, hot water and a double measure of cheap laundry detergent does the trick for their work clothes -- sometimes I ran an extra rinse cycle too.)  Ian lobstered for Sheldon on the weekends and worked on refurbishing his own lobster boat in every free minute.  Evan surfed at Fortune's Rocks (the beach near our home) every chance he got.  His dear sweet GF Christina came over once or twice a week.  I can't get enough of the happy light she shines around here.  And Sean worked hard, worked out hard in preparation for his senior year football season, and worried hard about his upcoming college applications.

The biggest news of my summer is that my dear brother David is doing really well in his battle with melanoma.  I hardly dare write about it, since I feel almost superstitious about it, like if I say out loud that I think he will win his fight, that I will jinx his odds.  I know it's silly, but there it is.
David was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma, which in the past, really has been a death sentence.  As in, 6 months - 2 years survival.  But that was before, and now, I am immeasurably thankful to say that he is getting the best of the best treatment available, and that other people with more dire cases than his(!), are being called cured.  By their oncologists.  You don't hear them utter that word often.  Years and years ago, I removed a melanoma from David's back.  That was a bit scary.  I referred him out to a specialist, who performed a wide excision, and a sentinel node biopsy, both of which confirmed that the melanoma was in situ, meaning no evidence that it had spread, and that it had been cured by the original excision.  Going forward, it meant that he had a higher risk of another melanoma, and that vigilance with limiting sun exposure and regular careful and thorough skin exams were indicated.  And he has done that.
This spring however, he had a black toenail.  Being a builder, he usually has a black fingernail or two, from bruising.  He didn't remember getting an injury, but sure enough the nail shed as he expected it would.  Instead of healing, and new nail appearing, the nail bed was getting worse, bloody, swollen, and he was having trouble wearing shoes, because of the bulky bandaging he was wrapping his toe in.  A biopsy showed melanoma.  This was surprising because we always thought that any new melanomas would occur in a more consistently sun-exposed area (back, shoulders, head). All the information I've ever found about melanoma in the nailbed was that they predominantly occur in dark-skinned individuals.  David and I are both very fair-skinned Caucasians. Further testing showed that he does not have the most common "melanoma gene", and therefore wasn't eligible for the gene-targeted therapies.  He has melanoma tumors in most of his bones, and some in soft tissue.  But none in his brain, or heart.  This spread of tumors distant from the original tumor automatically places him in Stage 4, which is the most serious.  Here's where the story improves.

David was referred to the Melanoma Clinic at Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston.  He qualified for a clinical trial which is being accelerated due to the success they have had so far.  He has been getting intravenous infusions of a wonder drug every 2 weeks all summer long.  He has felt well enough to work, to play, to live his life, mostly.  His dear wife Paula, has devoted herself to feeding him all the best fresh organic healthy foods, and eliminating stress, seeking tranquility and peace as much as possible.  We want his immune system at the top of its game.  We have all been praying our knees off, and loving on each other overtly, instead of quietly, with New England restraint and dignity.  Oh, the hugging and kissing, the smiles and laughter, the declarations of "I love you" right out loud and everything.
Today, David will get news of his first round of imaging tests, a quantitative measure of how he has responded to his treatment.  I am dying for word, although I am pretty sure the news will be good, based on how well David looks on the whole, and that the tumor on his toe has receded and stopped bleeding.  He has been wearing shoes (instead of sandals with socks).  We joke about how many new pairs of shoes he has been sporting.  His sis-in-law gave him a plaque showing a glass slipper, and a quote from Cinderella:  "The right shoe can change your life."  I call him Imelda.
For now, that's the news from this corner.

Irene as Home Nurse, or Bedside Sitting, Part Two

My Great-Grandfather, James

For years after my great-grandmother died, my grandmother Irene took care of her father, my great-grandfather.  He and his sons had always “worked in the woods”.  In Maine that means logging.  Nowadays, logs, once cut and limbed, are “skidded” out of the woods to be loaded onto log trucks using heavy machinery, specifically “skidders”.  I once heard a logger bragging on his wife because she could “droive a skid-dah” as well as any man.

But in the old days, loggers dragged (“twitched”) the logs out of the woods using draft horses.  A good team of horses didn’t need driving; they knew the way on their own.  But a young boy's introduction to logging might be to drive the horses back and forth.  My father did that, learning to holler “gee” and “haw” for right and left. 

My Great-Grandparents, Beulah and James

I don’t know the details, but one day my great-grandfather was under a tree when it came down the wrong way.  It happens from time to time, and many of these accidents result in fatality.  So I guess you could say Great-Grandpa was lucky to survive.  His back was broken and spinal cord injured.  He became a paraplegic for the rest of his life.  I didn’t know him as he died before I was born, but I have always heard glowing reports of the love and respect his descendants had for him.

So I suppose that it is appropriate that I think of my grandmother Irene when I think of a  model for Bedside Sitting.  She was always busy and cheerful, and took so many hardships in stride.  She was the kind of woman who was up with the dawn every day, and to bed soon after supper was cleaned up.  I remember her thinking her light bill must have been minimal.  She always kept a garden, and was known to have awakened one morning to see a deer eating her peas.  She grabbed her .22 and sneaked out into the “daw-yahd”* in her bra and panties, and had venison for her freezer.

I could go on and on telling little “rustic” stories about her (she was a registered Maine guide, and known for her ability to track bear for her urban clients looking for a hunting adventure), but my main focus is how she was an example of how in former times, illness was attended in the home, and necessarily part of comprehensive domestic training.  More people were at ease with illness, as it entered and dwelt right in their own homes with them.  I am not for a minute lamenting the advent of hospitals and other healthcare facilities, just recognizing that the removal of sick people from our homes can have a distancing effect.  I have heard too many people describe having a fear of hospitals, and observed enough people looking anxious and ill-at-ease just entering the building to think that all of their discomfort in visiting the ill can be attributed to their concern for the patient.  I contend that both visitor and patient can benefit from somehow eliminating this anxiety.  I’m not sure exactly how to accomplish this, but I suspect that simply talking about it is a good place to start.

Have you a fear of hospitals?  Are you uncomfortable around people when they are sick?  Have you ever been the “home nurse” for a loved one?  Did you feel comfortable in the role?  I really want to hear your stories.  If you want to express an opinion on this topic, leave me a comment; maybe you’d like to be a guest poster.  I have no doubt that whatever your experience, someone will be helped by hearing your story.

*  In Maine, a “dooryard” is essentially the driveway, or more generally, the part of the yard which constitutes the approach to the house.  The term undoubtedly precedes the automobile, and every winter it is important to keep the dooryard clear of snow, so you can get in and out to the road.

Being Irene (or Bedside Sitting, Part One)

My grandmother and my father

I don’t much like giving advice, unless it is asked for.  And when it is asked for, I can do a better job if given a chance to sort out my thoughts on the subject.  Today, I am posting unasked-for advice, only because I think it may help someone.  I don’t consider myself an expert in any way, but I have experience in two areas:  1) I have been a healthcare provider, and as such have worked in hospitals, nursing homes, and medical offices; 2)  I have been a family member when my loved ones have been ill.  My father battled cancer a few years ago.  My mother has had her hospital episodes.  My stepfather is in the midst of chemotherapy, and now my heretofore robust and healthy older brother is in a battle for his life.  Two of my children were hospitalized as neonates for Respiratory Syncitial Virus, and one of them also for hyperbilirubinemia.  (I also have been a patient, enduring 5 days in hospital for a particularly challenging case of Clostridium difficile colitis, an occupational hazard of nursing home work.)

I have encountered many patients, family members and healthcare workers.  I have found it helpful always to keep in mind that patients and their families are rarely at their best in the midst of a medical crisis.  At the worst, their world is crashing around them, perhaps changing their lives forever, and at the very least, they are experiencing a disruption in their daily rhythm, adapting and absorbing a cost of resources, time, etc, and challenging their coping strategies.

I had a grandmother, whose first name was Irene, who taught by example that loving people brings out the best in them.  And for her, “loving” people was not an emotion you experienced passively.  Loving people involved active intent, being consistently kind, jovial and accepting.  I never saw her react to someone’s negative behavior.  Ever.  She never seemed to nurse a grudge, even a score, or retaliate a slight.  (And there were plenty of slights, believe me.)  She blessed everyone around her with her cheerful disposition, and strength of character.  She was unconventional in many ways, and as such, not universally admired; for many people it took a long time to understand and accept what she was all about, but I think that, sooner or later, most who knew her “got it”.   

A long time ago, I concluded that one of the most worthwhile character strengths to develop was to be someone who brought out the best in others. A little like Melanie Hamilton Wilkes in GWTW, Lately however, I have taken to calling it "Being Irene".  For the most part, the old-fashioned idea of “etiquette” seeks to accomplish just this.  I needn’t lament here the shocking examples we can see on TV of the impact of abandoning such behaviors.  There has been such an emphasis on “being yourself”, “do your own thing”, “do what’s right for you”, in the last few decades that I fear we as a society lose something if we don’t consider one another more.  

We could all use a little more "Being Irene".

Sad.

Waiting to see what the next tide will bring......

I will be taking a hiatus from blogging.  I already have been gone longer than I planned.  I have things going which keep me from making pretty things, and are more important than taking pretty pictures.
You see, my stepfather was diagnosed with leukemia in March, and I have been helping a little.  And now my brother has been diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma.  It's a bit overwhelming.  I'm going up to Stratton in a couple of hours to hug my mother and brother and stepfather and sister-in-law and niece.  We'll talk, we'll catch up, we'll eat together, we'll pause and sigh.  Maybe we'll cry a little, but we'll probably tease and laugh and tell stories.  Some of us will pray.  I hope some of us will pray together.  I hope we'll sing hymns together to help us remember God's grace and truth.  We'll probably phone various other people.  And make plans.  And wonder what the future holds.  And maybe I'll blog some of it, but I probably won't for a while anyway.
I will wonder what you all are blogging about.  I'll check in on ThimbleAnna who is also caring for loved ones who are ailing.  So,  I'll be back when it feels right.

An up hill climb.

GuEsS what DaY it Is?

I have a brother named Mike, and it's all I can do not to call him up every Wednesday morning. 

    

 This was the view from my kitchen window this particular hUMp day.

 At least there's blue sky looking to the southwest.

 Which became widespread by 10 am.  It stayed in the 40s but the snow melted.

 This may not be exciting news where you live, but to us it's pretty big stuff.  The maple trees are budding!  I love how the red buds look against the blue sky.

I finally sent out another package to Nantucket.  I finished the yellow moss stitch jacket.  With the bunny buttons.   I almost left off the pompon until I saw it as a sort of "cottontail".

 Yes, I know the little ceramic bunny has a hole in the middle.  That's because it is actually a napkin ring. I bought a set last year from this website. And the little white crochet bootees?  These are so sweet, and I made them from a pattern I borrowed from Olga at her blog Lacy Crochet.  I have more pics of the bootees that I want to share, but I am consulting Olga first, which is in keeping with her wishes.  You see, she recently found her free patterns being stolen and sold on etsy!  She is continuing to share free patterns, because she's just that kind of a generous person, and she loves to share crochet projects with others who love crochet.

And I finally finished the bonnet to go with the Peek-a-Boo Sacque and Bootees.

I kept putting it off because I knew I really needed to practice bullion roses more before I tried to do them on the bonnet.  I used some tips and tricks from Jeannie Beaumeister at Old Fashioned Baby.  I attached the ribbon according to her recommendations (sort of), folding the end over and gathering it at about 3/4" in.  Then I embroidered the rose on it.  The ribbon I used was very ravelly and so I finished the cut ends with Dritz Fray Check, even the end I was folding over.  It didn't want to fold over,  I had to press it to get my point across.  I also cut one ribbon about 3" longer than the other so that it would come out relatively even if it were tied with the bow on baby's right side.

I've saved the best for last.

The precious baby for whom I have been fussing all this time.

 Here she is, the lovely Marie Rose!  These pictures are about a month old.  My brother is tormenting me by not sending me daily cell phone shots.  In the shot above, I believe she shows her mother's eyes and nose, but the chin is directly from her paternal grandfather (my Dad).  He had a distinct cleft; I have a bit of one too, more subtle. 

Mum and I have yet to see this roly-poly cutie pie.  Truth be told, we have been busy caring for someone who is ill, and unable to get away just yet.  I'm setting my sights on Mothers' Day.

I want to cuddle her, smell her, gaze at her, can you blame me?

Little Baby Bunny Buttons

These are some buttons I have been collecting for baby garments.  I bought the bunny buttons about 7 years ago, when I was knitting this precious little jacket.

I know, right?

I borrowed this pic from the Yarnspiration website which offers the free pattern here.  Well, the baby I was knitting for was really not someone I knew very well, and so, when I didn't finish before baby was born, it got forgotten, and I think I just sent a card.  And so it languished.....

Recently, I pulled out my stash of baby yarn and I rediscovered the jacket pieces, waiting to be seamed, edged, buttoned and pomponed.  (What?  That's not a word?)

After the picture was taken, I found the missing sleeve.  Whew!  But I didn't find it before nearly finishing a new one I was whipping out with the leftover yarn. 

Now, here's where you come in....What? you say, What have I got to do with it? No way am I seaming that thing!

No, no, no. I've finished the seaming, I'm working on the edging and I need to make a decision and I need your help.  It's all about the buttons!

Now, look again at the pic above;  I had originally chosen the bunny buttons for this sweet little jacket.  But another set I really like is the little green flower buttons.  I must really like them because on Tuesday, I stopped at JoAnn Fabrics in Auburn on my way home from Stratton, to take a look at, among other things, little baby buttons.  See what I found?

 See anything familiar?  Yup.  I'm consistent.  I bought the same buttons twice.

 Here they are in a lousy picture made lousier by my amateur editing, but the point is that I have such cute ribbons that could be laced through matching bootees to wear with the jacket, either the gingham or the dots.

And here are the bunny buttons:

And now a quick peek of other little goodies I'm sending to sweet little Marie Rose.



Awaiting blocking and ribbons..

And if you read this post, you'll understand why I had to get this little outfit.

P.S. Don't forget to leave a comment about which buttons look best....Thanks!!

Stratton Sojourn

Last Friday, I took a little trip.  I drove up to Stratton, a tiny village in Eustis, to see my mother and my step-father.  They live in a little house that was built by my grandfather (literally) probably about 1950.  It just occurs to me that I don't know really what year, Mum would know.  I'll have to ask.
It's a 3-hour drive from where I live on the coast.  And it's a 1,148 ft. "climb" from sea level.  My ears pop once in the first hour of driving, and several times in the 3rd hour where the drive is the steepest.
Being in the mountains, they aren't insulated by the ocean like I am, and so, fall comes 3-4 weeks earlier and spring about 3-4 weeks later.  I took the picture above on April 1.

This cyclamen will have to do for Spring color, for now.

The windows on the back of the house look out onto the end of the Bigelow Mountain range.

 The mountains are obscured by cloud cover here.  I took this picture looking out the back door, over the deck railing.  That blue thing is a cooler.  We often use "Mother Nature's Icebox" when the indoor freezer is packed to the gills.  Very handy during holidays and when you have stocked up for having guests.  The little trail has been worn by one of the dogs.  See the azalea?  Won't be in bloom any time soon.

This view is the same as above, just shifted slightly to the left.  Isn't the birch gorgeous? The deciduous tree on the right is a cherry tree.  My grandfather planted it over 50 years ago.  There is kind of a family story associated with that tree. When it was still quite small, my grandfather looked out one fall (or maybe early spring? I just know the tree wasn't all leafy) day, and saw a partridge (hereafter, referred to as "pa'tridge", in deference to local dialect) roosting in it.  It looked quite disproportionate, where a partridge is a larger kind of bird and the cherry tree being young was quite small, so he got his camera and got a picture.  For some reason, there are multiple copies of the "pa'tridge in a cherry tree", and one always seem to show up randomly in any collection of pictures my grandmother had.  She even had taken a picture of my grandfather taking a picture of the pa'tridge in the cherry tree.  I never look at that tree without thinking of the pa'tridge story.

My stepfather, Jim, is an avid outdoorsman, and has always kept bird-hunting dogs.  Lil is an elderly Brittany Spaniel, and very sweet and gentle.  She was quite a birder in her day.  May is a younger dog, a French Brittany, which are just a bit smaller, a little more of a delicate build.  She has a personality like a firecracker, or a Jack Russell terrier.  She is as smart as a whip, and very strong-willed.  She has been very difficult to train, but also knows how to win you over, when you're about to give up on her in exasperation.  We had a standoff when she slinked off with a slipper I had kicked off, and so I picked up her Nylabone.  There we were, staring at each other, finally she dropped the slipper and came for the bone.  It was really quite entertaining.  She and I became good friends!

It doesn't take her long to get up in the warm recliner when Jim gets up for a minute!  And being very nosy, she's always making sure she doesn't miss anything.
I think I miss her a little.
....................................................................................................................................

Edited 4/5 to add:

If you haven't been over to Mary Jane's Tearoom, I gently suggest you get over there, as there is quite a premium giveaway going, which you can enter through April 17th.  .  See all the Cath Kidston pretties, and the Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino.  If you enter as a result of seeing this little mention, let me know.    Happy Saturday!

Just a little tease, really....

She's here!  The little dear made her arrival in the wee hours on Valentine's Day.  What a wonderful day for a birthday.   I haven't seen her yet, as traveling to Nantucket isn't just a matter of hopping into the car.  But Mum and I are planning a trip very soon.  I am just dying to hold that baby!   

 This little one is quite a bundle.  She weighed 9 lbs and 13 oz. Oy vay!  But, we aren't surprised.  Her father (my brother) is 6'3" and was the smallest of my 3 brothers at 10 lbs and 4.5 oz.  I was Mum's "little peanut" at 8 lbs 6.5 oz.  And her mother is 6' tall.  She also has a big sister who is almost my height at the age of 8 (or 9?).  We met Maman (she's French) and big sis Amélie at Christmas and absolutely fell in love.  My brother Jonathan is one lucky man.

And Knew Kniece?  Her name is Marie Rose.  With such a lovely name, I had to learn how to make bullion roses.  Now, I think I'll be putting them on everything I make for her.  Kind of a signature feature.  Dear sweet Marie Rose.  I can't show you the rest of the garment in the above pic - it still needs a finishing touch.  But I'll take pics before I send it off in the mail. (or deliver it in person, I hope.)
At Christmas time, I joked with Jonathan and Sandrine (Maman) that dear baby would look like me, because his baby pics and mine look so much alike, and wouldn't she be a lucky girl indeed to resemble such a pretty auntie.  (Tongue firmly planted in cheek, I assure you.)
A few days ago on the phone with my brother:
Me:  What does she look like?
Jon:  Ummm, I don't know... a baby?
Me:  Is she beautiful?
Jon: Well, yeah, of course.
Me:  Oh, so she does look just like me!
Jon:  (cracks up)
Sandrine:  (in background) She looks just like Amélie did.

 Speaking of Amélie, I have distinct recollections of the arrivals of my younger brothers, as I was age 7 and 10 on those 2 occasions.  I remember some kind lady making a point of talking with me and bringing me some sort of treat, so as not to fuss over the baby as if I didn't exist.  To be honest, I wasn't feeling overlooked, as my mother was careful to let me hold them and help her dress them, and even burp them after feedings.  I was captivated, to say the least.  Still, the gesture was not lost on me.  Such a lesson in thoughtfulness that I've never forgotten.

So the fingerless mitts above are for Amélie.  They're going to be my undoing however.  I had firmly determined not to be a fiber snob, but I found 2 balls of Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran at the GW for $0.99 ea.  (I have since found them on the website for $9.99 ea.!)  Knitting with this yarn made me want never to knit with anything else, alas...
I have them modeled on my hands, and believe me, this child's hands are almost as big.  I picked a ribbed pattern, so they'd be more "huggy", and she won't likely outgrow them.  I hope.  They may be a little too long as I got a little carried away before I realized that I'd misinterpreted the pattern.  (Which is by the way, Lush Fingerless Mitts, by Susan Mills, available free on Ravelry.)
Do you love my background fabric?  That little remnant was another GW find, and I am sure will make a little dress out of it for Marie Rose, and I may have to spring for some Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino in the same rosy shade as the mitts to make a little matching cardi to go with.  A little dress with a cream or ecru Peter Pan collar, piped.  Oh I wish I could smock the bodice, but I'm sure I don't have enough fabric (and I haven't learned smocking. yet.)
I was going to show a couple of other little projects I've photographed, but this post is getting long, so I'll save them for next time.  It'll be easier to post again, when I already have photos ready.

À bientôt!   
(translation:  see you soon, am I right, Lorrie?)

Knantucket Kniece Knitting

I have a brother who lives on Nantucket.  We are not particularly close, and I have never been to Nantucket.
Sounds like a limerick, doesn't it?

"The closest  I've been to Nantucket
  (by ferryboat, since you can't truck it,)
  was just out of reach
  on Hyannis beach
  but it's on my list labeled 'Bucket'."

There.  I made it through without using any unsavory words.  (But if I made you think them, I'm sorry.)

I have another brother who is working out on Martha's Vineyard, building a house, but that's another story.  (....and besides, what rhymes with vineyard?)

Well, NanBro is expecting a daughter sometime in February.  Now, I have just done a tally of sorts.
Between us, my husband and I have 8 siblings, 7 of whom have had children.  As it turns out, this new niece will be a tie-breaker.  Right now, we have 8 nieces and 8 nephews.
I have never knitted anything for a new baby.  That's right, never!  (What?!)

Let 2014 be the year that changes.

My Walk

Gratuitous vintage sewing pattern only tangentially related to the following post.

I went out to walk the 3-mile loop, feeling all virtuous and hardy.  It had been raining, but stopped and I decided that even if it started raining again, it would cool me off and feel great, and it certainly wouldn't kill me.
So, off I went, with a bounce in my step, and a song in my heart.  It felt good to be out again; I probably haven't been out since June or early July.  I kept finding more important things to do.  But I'm feeling re-motivated, since I've been dreaming on and on about clothes, and thinking about how much nicer they'd look on me if I could trim a few inches from my waistline (say 10 or 12....), and how much better I'd feel if I could bend over to paint my toenails without holding my breath (as if the polish fumes weren't enough to make me feel woozy-headed!).
Monday (despite the holiday) is trash collection day on Old Pool Road, and a neighbor said hello from the end of his driveway, when he came to collect his empty bins.  "I hope the rain holds off for my walk," I said, as the weather is perfect standby for light pleasantries for such a chance social encounter.  He smiled, and looked up, and said, "Yeah, mebbe about 10 minutes."  On my way I went, picking up acorns, listening to the runoff of little streams, and admiring another neighbor's beagle.
10 minutes later, I was on the campus at UNE, and yup, a light rain started.  At this point, I am  3/4 of a mile from home, if I turn back, I'll be good for a mile and a half today.  No, I decide, it feels good, and it won't kill me; after all I'm a weather-hardy New Englander!
Now, I had prepared for the sun to break through.  I am seriously fair-skinned, have melanoma in a first-degree relative, and am
staunchly opposed to aging.  Naturally I wear sunscreen everyday.  Today, as I trudged along, pressing on uphill, and the rain fell harder and harder, the sunscreen began to run into my eyes.  Ouch!  I tried to wipe away as much as I could with a tissue, which didn't seem to help much; I kept going, now feeling drenched and stupid, and glad I hadn't worn any mascara, and wishing I didn't have almost 2 miles to go.
Then, like a princess in a fairy tale, along came my Knight in Shining Armor.  DH felt sorry for me, and came to pick me up!  Okay, so today's walk was a mile and a quarter -- it's a start, and as Scarlett would say, "Tomorrow is another day!"

Really Random

1.  No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.  Being consistent just is not my forte.  I have reminded myself repeatedly that in my case, blogging is about keeping an online journal, and so its purpose is to serve my need to express myself.  If I were primarily trying to write for a specific audience, it would become a stress-inducer, not a stress-reliever.  This is how I try to assuage my guilt.
2.  I hate Facebook.  (Is hate too strong?)  Off and on, I have tried giving it a whirl.  I have learned a few things.  It's easier to like people when you don't know everything that they are thinking and feeling.  I don't need to know 99.9% of what is posted.  And at least 50% of it distresses me, and most of the remaining 50% barely interests me.
3.  I don't know how to tweet.  And so far, I don't feel the need to learn.
4.  Pinning is another matter.  I do have a Pinterest account, and a few boards.  I haven't been nearly as drawn to it as some are.  
5.  So far, these items aren't really random.  They all have to do with social media.
6.  My son stopped at a Yard Sale on his way to the beach with his sweet girlfriend.  Being on the way to the beach, he had no wallet, but discovered something he wanted, so he called me, knowing I'd be interested in the vintage items being cleaned out of an old house.  I was, and besides picking up the dishes his girlfriend told him he needed for his apartment, I found a few other things.  I should take some pics to post.  I brought home 6 matching coffee mugs, a heavy aluminum roaster (that looked like 1960's maybe?), an aluminum straining basket that will fit in my vintage 4 qt. pressure cookers, a few books and an old magazine.  But really the best part was talking about biscuit recipes with the 2 ladies running the sale, and another shopper.  I guess you had to be there.
7.  I've been reorganizing our home filing system.  Reorganizing is a generous term.  We had a shameful number of piles of "important" papers which had never been put into the proper folders.  We had also been suffering with the hassle of searching these haphazard piles (randomly located throughout the house) whenever we needed some pertinent document.  This has been a very gratifying purging experience.  I have sent huge amounts of paper off to be recycled, and made another collection of papers with sensitive info for shredding.  When I lamented to DH about how long it would take to sit at the shredder, he went out and bought a fire pit at Home Depot.  So I got marshmallows, Hershey bars and graham crackers, and we had a little toasting party on Saturday night, while watching for meteors.
8.  We're doing a homemade pizza week.  We did it before several weeks ago, and it was hugely popular.  I was making sourdough starter, and on the King Arthur Flour website, there are recipes for using the daily "discard" starter as you feed it.  So, besides buttermilk sourdough waffles, I was making sourdough pizza crust each day (which you can freeze for future use if you don't use it).  The toppings and salad would change each day.  So one day, it was Hawaiian pizza, another day Greek, another day Meat Lovers or Mexican.  I found this to be a very economical and nutritious way to feed the locusts, uh, family.  (What would you do if your DH was 6'4", and your 3 boys were aged 16-21, all about 6'3" tall, and working hard at very physical jobs each day?  Adding to their appetites, the two older boys play softball in the evenings, one of them surfs every chance he gets, and the youngest is training at the gym or running pretty much daily, anticipating the upcoming football season.)
9.  Re: above:  I do the menu planning and grocery shopping and most of the cooking, but I don't haul in the groceries, take out trash, carry firewood, or my own luggage, and while I do most of the laundry, I don't carry down large hampers of dirty laundry.  Oh, and I don't shovel much snow -- only if I feel like it, for a little exercise and fresh air.  I love having "men around the house.
10.  I read somewhere that eating beans 3-4x/wk decreases your risk of heart disease by something like 37%.  I have multiple risk factors, so I've been seeking more recipes with beans, and acclimating the eaters in the house.  I have had some real success with cooking lentils with beef broth, onion powder and a little cayenne pepper, and mixing them in with ground beef in various casserole-type recipes, like Shepherd's pie, taco meat, etc.  I will try in meatloaf, and maybe even some burgers soon.
11.  I haven't sewed a thing, but the itch is getting stronger.  I want to make a whole new wardrobe!
12.  I love heirloom sewing (see Jeannie Baumeister's blog, The Old Fashioned Baby), and I want to try smocking.  I think that means I'm gearing up for grandbabies.  Kind of the way a young couple gets a puppy or kitten when they are getting mentally prepared to start having babies.  (Tho' most don't recognize that it is a common pattern they are following..
13.  There's a lot to do to get the 2 older boys off to college in about 10 days.  I hate it when they go.  I feel like I've had an amputation.  I can tell I'll be having a horrendous case of ENS (Empty Nest Syndrome) in 2 years when the last one goes. 

Anyway, that's just a little bit of what is rattling around in my head these days........

My Massachusetts

I lived in Massachusetts from the time I was a toddler until I graduated from college.  Sometimes I wish I had stayed, at least in New England.  But mostly I am glad that I have lived in Ohio, Illinois and California.  (pic from NESN)

New Englanders, and in particular Bostonians, are afflicted, er, imbued with inordinate pride of place, and it could be that I am no different.  But, I have experienced the virtues of other areas of our beautiful and proud country.  There is so much to see and to love.

(Photo from boston.com, credited to Joao Bustolin of Somerville; the glow on the right is coming from the lights at Fenway Park.)
One thing I have learned in my travels is that some Americans have come to expect an arrogant superiority from folks “back East”.  One young lady eventually confided that she hadn’t wanted to get to know me, simply because I was from the east.  I smile now when I think of it, because of all the wonderful friends I made, and all the fun I’ve had seeing different places.  So it means all the more to me that people from all over America, and even all over the world, have made declarations of kinship with Boston since the tragic occurrences since last Monday’s Marathon.  I don’t know what the news coverage was like where you live, but I had NECN (New England Cable News) on most of last week, and the only news was about the Marathon. 

There was some little bit of coverage of the explosion in West, Texas, but still the vast majority was focused on the Boston attacks and subsequent pursuit of the culprits.    So, I want to say that even though I am blogging about what’s going on here in my little corner of the world, my thoughts and prayers are also with the people of West, as they mourn their losses, and try to rebuild their lives.

On Sunday, Jeff (DH) and Sean (DS3), and I drove down through Boston to attend a lacrosse game at beautiful Stonehill College in Easton.  My middle son Evan (DS2), #11 (lt. blue jersey) in photos,  plays club lacrosse at the University of Maine at Orono (UMO), and they had traveled to Stonehill for a 3 pm match. 
(Ian, DS1, also attends UMO and had club baseball games in Boston, but they were canceled, maybe because of the preceding week?)



It was a beautifully bright and sunny day, but a bit nippy, about 50 degrees, and breezy.  The trees were budding out a little ahead of ours, but the city is not yet in bloom.




Including the 3 of us, I counted 8 UMO Black Bears fans in the stands, so I met and talked to the other family.  It was sort of fun to watch except that the Bears were quite outmatched.




Stonehill’s team was about 3x larger than ours, so they always had fresh legs to sub in. 

But I don’t go to LaX games for the winning part of it. 




(Which is good, because LaX is still in its infancy in our town, and we are routinely beaten.)




Next post will feature Quincy Market/Faneuil Hall pictures in Boston.