Please, make it January.

(This is not one of my happy posts.  You can skip it if you need too. I won’t mind. Just giving a voice to feelings that I carry with me around this time of year - in hopes that putting fingers to keyboard I can shed some baggage that follows me during December.)

In the next few days it will be December 1.  

Again!

 December!

  My least favorite month of the year.  

I can already feel the holiday pressure of getting things done crowding me.  How I wish that was my only problem. The real issue is more complicated. I feel concern creeping up on me that the month passes without any bad stuff like illnesses or worse. I know that sounds a little bit paranoid - but December and I have a history together and it isn’t positive.   

How did December get such a bad wrap?   Truthfully, I didn’t always hate December and the number of happy December holidays far outweighs the sad ones ... so why can’t I just throw off the bad ones and enjoy the season? Being a generally happy positive person the other 11 months of the year, I gave this question a lot of thought and discovered only one answer for me: the intensity of events and life changing nature of some of my Decembers sit in stark contrast to the “let us all be happy” message of December.  

The first dent in my relationship with December happened in 1970 with the death of my dad right before Christmas. It was a sudden event - a fall down a flight of stairs that was not discovered promptly and after a few days in ICU he died - several days before Christmas.  His passing was a combination of sorrow and some relief.  He was an alcoholic and he made family life hard.  But I loved him in spite of all the pain he caused.  That Christmas without him was my first experience of sadness while all the world seemed joyful.   Even in the funeral home where our family gathered to say goodbye reminders of the season were everywhere ... tastefully done, of course, but there all the same.  

Ironically, like bookends - the death of my mother came just after Christmas in 2014.  

These events were 44 years apart - certainly healing should have happened in that time.  And it did. Each Christmas after his death I remembered him with forgiveness and love. That yearly remembrance felt like a healthy and realistic admission that sad things can happen at Christmas time, and you can move on and to be grateful for the happy events - recognizing that Christmas happiness is not ‘promised'.  

But my mom's death was preceded by many hard December experiences - each one more difficult than the last until I couldn’t stand the month at all.  

The first event happened about a year after mom moved in with me in 2007.  A vicious GI bug spread through our family the day after Thanksgiving.  It was the worst GI virus I have ever had.  While normal healthy individuals could survive that, my mom was in her 80s.  It devastated and hospitalized her - not once but twice in quick succession.  The second hospitalization landed her in ICU because she was septic. As with all her hospitalizations, I was with her 24/7.  Rehab followed and I followed her there as well.  Getting her well consumed me.  I approached her recovery as a battle to be won.  I pushed medical staff to get her home before Christmas.  She rallied quickly.  When she came home it was December 22 - little to no holiday prep had been done for my own family’s Christmas.  Some gifts were purchased but no wrapping, no Christmas tree, and no meal preparation.  But no matter, my mom was home.   The tree got put up on December 23rd, and the gifts that weren’t purchased by then where replaced with checks. I purchased a fully cooked Christmas Day meal from a local grocery store - and we called it good!  The real celebration was ... Mom was home and doing well.  I won that battle.

I won the battle over several other hospitalizations and rehabilitations over the course of a few years getting her back home, but  each left her weaker than before. At age 85 a hospitalization and a very long rehab experience ended with her being placed in Assisted Living.  And, of course, that happened in the month of December.  The community I picked was top notch, very homey with great staff, and beautifully decorated for the holiday, but I knew mom didn’t want any this.  She wanted to go home.  The final determining factor were the 20 steps up from the parking lot to my townhome - steps she could not climb any more.  I remember riding home that first night she spent in Assisted Living.  The December lights on houses I passed were twinkling brilliantly, the Christmas music was playing on the radio, and I was in tears the entire way home at this permanent change in all our lives.  That night I started to intentionally ignore December ‘cheer’ that tried to invite me at every turn to be happy .

The last 3 years of her life she lived away from home - 2 years in Assisted Living and 1 year in Nursing.  As always, the staff made the holidays as grand as they could.  But it was hard to ignore that fact that about half the residents were mobile enough to visit a family member’s home for the holiday. We couldn’t do that for mom.  I hated those last 3 Christmases more than you could imagine.  As December approached I felt disappointment and sadness begin to grow in me.  To compensate I spent as much time as I could during those holidays with her, and extended family came for visits as well.  We even arranged a separate Holiday family meal with her on site, but the one thing she always wanted was to go home,  and I couldn’t make that happen. Those 3 Christmases cemented my distaste for December and it was when I learned to yearn for January.

Starting in early 2014 at 88 years old she had a number of serious health issues that could not get resolved. Her dementia had pretty much consumed her with only short glimpses of who she had been as my mom.  In mid-December of that year her chronic problems were growing in intensity.  Her eating had dropped off and she had no interest in her surroundings. I was losing this final battle and it seemed like nothing could halt her decline.  When medical staff finally informed me that she was actively failing, I had already known in my heart she could not be pulled back.  The message - your mother is dying - I got on December 22.  They estimated she would make it to Christmas but not much past that.  Needless to say, there was no holiday spirit left to crush in me.  By this time Christmas Day was just another date on a calendar.  My only comfort in those last days and hours were that the dementia I fought so hard against, was finally her ‘friend’ ... shielding her awareness of another passing Christmas away from home. Mom and I lost this last battle together, but at least I was the only one grieving. 

She died on December 28th.  I was numb driving home that evening.  I don’t remember the trip at all - but I am sure without a doubt - those Christmas images I learned to ignore - were everywhere.

This year will be the 7th year anniversary since her passing.  Unfortunately traditional Christmas sounds and sights still remind me of our years of struggle.   I still yearn for January.  But now at 74, I accept that this will not change.  You can’t ‘un-ring a bell' - the memories cannot be wiped from the mind as if they never happened.   I accept them now, however, with more grace.  A grand daughter has helped me to find some peace in these celebrations, but I still feel it is a lot for those tiny little shoulders to bear, so I don’t rest entirely on her existence as my way out of holiday gloom.  After 7 years I am better at hiding that sad part of me by putting a smile on my face during December - especially with family.  But when I am alone with only my thoughts during this month, the memories of holidays mom and I shared appear like a flash flood - sudden and sweeping away everything else.   

Please, make it January.  

(Has the sharing of this helped me shed some of my ‘baggage?’  Maybe a make-up case worth.  Has it increased just one person’s understanding that others struggle mightily during the holidays?  I hope so.)

During happier times when she would sit on 
my front step and just enjoy the feeling
of being outside.

Mom and I in 2011
Taken at the rehab facility she eventually would call “home.”  

Mom, my sister and I in 2012
Taken 2 months after she moved into Assisted Living.

 Is it January yet?

Progress Report: Frozen Colors Afghan

I made a bit of progress on the crochet afghan I am stitching for my granddaughter for Christmas, so it seemed like the time for a picture update. 

First picture - taken within about 48 hours of starting on November 13.

The pattern is called “With Love, Granny” Afghan Pattern designed by Crystal White-VanCleemput, of JolieKnotsCrochet.  The word ‘Granny' is a reference to the Granny Crochet stitch that makes up the heart patterns in the blanket.  The ‘With Love' reference is a nod to all the hearts in the pattern. But I love how when you put all the words together in the title it can be understood as a gift from a loving grandmother - which my afghan actually is.

Several days later.

I am glad I decided to crochet this instead of knit it.  There is no knit stitch that covers this much ground this fast based on the speed at which I knit and crochet (which isn’t fast.)

I am pretty happy with the faint suggestion of the heart pattern in this design.  Checking Ravelry, one crocheter called it “Watermark.”  And that is exactly the impression the hearts give - like a watermark on paper. You know it is there but it doesn’t demand the viewer’s attention on the simple background of double crochets.

A few close ups of the design.

Based on how much yarn has been sucked up by this project so far, I had to once again purchase additional skeins of yarn to complete the afghan based on the order I am using them.  Since it is a corner to corner design, the light blue and white are falling into the part of the pattern that is the widest and based on my planned use of the design - there will be more rows of the colors in the wider center ... and therefore needs more yarn.  Thankfully I could get extra skeins and colors I needed at Joann Fabric’s shop near me.

After the light blue is completed, I have a pink that will fall into the center of the afghan.  It will have more rows than any previous color.  Then I will begin to decrease, going back to the light blue, and then the white and then the lavender, etc. etc. etc.  

So based on those plans I think I am about 1/3 of the way through this pattern - only 1/3 because the closer I get to the center the wider the stripes are.

And I gave some thought to the border. 

Designer’s picture from the pattern.
I don’t care for the open lacy border of this pattern.

I don’t care for the border that came with this pattern, and I planned to do something that had a picot edge.  And then I stumbled upon a border called Whipsiderry Border designed by Dedri from her blog called  Look At What I Made.  Although I am always going to be primarily a knitter, Dedri manages to drag me into crochet time and time again with her beautiful designs.  She does the most stunning crochet, and her website is full of her free designs, beautiful pictures, exceeding detailed written and pictorial instructions and links to her YouTube step-by-step video instructions (a must for me with crochet.)  

The Whipsiderry Border I plan to use.

I love the solid look of this crochet border. It is wider than most with a solid foundation of double crochets that match the double crochet background of the hearts afghan I am working on ... and then is topped off with an appealing crochet lace pattern.

This border will add considerable extra work to the afghan once I complete the body (ha!  Just what I need with a tight deadline. Not!)  Other possible designs would have made for a quicker border, but now my mind is settled on this design so it is what I will use - and if it isn’t quite done for Christmas, I will just give it to her after Christmas. 

(See?  I can be flexible.)

 

Fall - Falls Down

My Gosh!  I have seen some stunning Fall colors in some of the blogs I follow!  And thank God for those pictures that were shared, because in my area Fall has fallen on his face!

You be the judge!

A beautiful lake but low on the color scale. In past years
there were some stunning views - views that were also replicated in the reflection
on the lake.

My husband and I captured these lake pictures on one of our walks.

But the weekend before these lake pictures I had a chance to dog/house sit for my son and daughter-in-law.  I haven’t done this in almost 18 months.  My God - how I missed these dog sitting weekends.  These sweet mutts were all mine for about 4 days.  And while the colors at their house
were not particularly colorful either, they were bright with sun light.

Olivia - watching me, watching her.

The sun makes everything brighter.

The view from their porch!  I really enjoyed sitting out here
each morning enjoying a beverage.  It is quiet and private.  
Quite perfect! 

Ragnar,  laying in front of my son’s office one afternoon!  
I think someone missed his Papa!

Playing “Chicken” With Christmas - Again!

About 15 years ago I played ‘chicken' with Christmas. 

It wasn’t pretty.  

I vowed to never do it again!

How does one play ‘chicken’ with Christmas?  Well, for me it involves setting unrealistic deadlines for getting things done before the hard deadline of Christmas Day!  

During my last “chicken” event Christmas 15+ years ago, I decided in October to knit 8 projects as gifts. Yes, you read that right.  October and 8 projects, entirely crazy.  The projects were smaller but still, 85 days divided by 8 projects equals approximately 10 days per project from start to finish.  Calculate in time for other activities like eating, sleeping, household tasks, typical Christmas craziness, and a full time job (yes, I was working) and you get way less than 10 days per project. 

The experience was intense (actually ridiculous!)  So ridiculous, that if I hadn’t had a gallbladder surgery on December 5 of that year (followed by a period of short term disability from my job to heal - 'knitting time' by any other description)  I would never have reached my goal of eight finished Christmas gifts by December 25th.  Since I have limitations on just how many bodily organs I can offer up to the knitting gods for a Christmas deadline, I vowed never to knit for Christmas again. Although it looks like I am breaking that vow this year, I am not. 

I am crocheting. Ha! (this little loop hole will probably bite me in my butt at some point.)

So, with a flush of enthusiasm, on November 13, ( 42 days prior to the deadline) I started a sizable Christmas project - a kid’s blanket!  Another blanket! (I should be committed!)  I have 2 others still 'on the hook' and somehow I talked myself into another one - with a deadline, no less. 

But I have important reasons why I am doing this project  ...

#1 - It is for my granddaughter (No other reasons “need apply,” but I will add them anyway.)

#2 - It is crochet and it goes faster than knitting many times over. (True)

#3 - It is a simple pattern. (Also true)

#4 - It is a stash buster project (normally, yes, except for the 8 additional skeins I purchased to use up the 5 others I had - I think that is a gain of 3! ). Math was not a strong subject for me in school. 

The colors are all wrong.  Left to right: true purple, light purple and 
lavender.  Light blue, pink and white come later.

A finished project of someone on Ravelry.

The pattern is called With Love, Granny Afghan Pattern by Crystal White-VanCleemput of JolieKnots.com.  It uses the granny stitch to make the hearts. My colors match the colors in Frozen - the Disney cartoon that is so popular with children now.  It is a corner to corner pattern - so at this point I am increasing and each row takes longer to complete.

Even under an Ott light, the colors are off.

I’ll post a few progress pictures between now and December 25th - just to help keep me honest and focused on getting this done.   

And just to make things really interesting, I added another Christmas deadline project.  This puzzle which I am working to complete, glue together and frame.  This Disney mermaid is called Ariel and Eskarina dressed up as Ariel for Halloween. 

She really loved that long red hair.

Must stop now - I have deadlines to meet!!

A Sunrise Reserved For One

 I know that no one “owns” the sunrise, but there should be some rules or a reservation system or  something for viewing.

Let me back track.

My last morning at the ocean I was the first one up (thank you legs!).  

I walked out to the balcony and looked behind me.

  Still dark.  Roads were quiet!  No one was about. 

Perfect.  

Looking east I could see the start of a beautiful morning with just me and the ocean and the sun.

 I settled in with my camera phone and my coffee

 to enjoy the beauty of nature

 on this last day of my trip to the ocean.

I had just these few last hours of my long weekend away from home.  

I wanted to make the best of them.

And from the looks of the horizon I didn’t have long to wait.  

There she was, the sun peeking just above the horizon.

And the ocean giving me a gentle wave - to tell me the best was yet to come.  

I was ready!

And then I heard it!!  

 Running feet from behind me.   This lady was running down the street with her camera held up high in the air in front of her trying to catch the sunrise.  Seriously ... running with a camera held in front of her!!  As she passed me her feet were loudly slapping the pavement and she was totally unaware I was watching her - because her eyes were not focused on her surroundings but focused entirely on her camera!!!  You can even see the brightness of the sun reflected through her lens.  AND standing between me and the ocean and the sunrise, no less!

This was just like butting in line!  How rude. It shouldn’t be allowed!!

And then I immediately chastised myself for my unkind selfish thoughts.   
 So I re-adjusted my camera so that
it seemed as if I was the only one capturing the moment.  Just me, the ocean and my camera!

Out of nowhere, the woman and her dog casually wandered into my picture frame.  
On “little cat feet” she was (except she had a dog)!  
Dang!!  Dang!! Dang!! (Deep breath ... be calm.)

Ok, she has a dog.
And at least she was quiet - not pounding her feet down the street.
   Be kind.  Pet people are good people.
Just get over yourself, I kept saying.

I readjusted my camera again!  *sigh* And again, just me and the ocean and the sunrise
(and these “almost late-to-the-party” folks.)
  
 Just look at that sunrise and the beauty of the colors 
reflected on the waters. Like a beautiful painting.  

You have GOT to be kidding me!!
 I looked to my left and I saw MORE PEOPLE!!
 
Hey, guys, this has happened every single morning since the beginning of time!!!!!
Go home, please.
  

Back through my lens again - things were not getting better! No beach space without people.

CARS!!
They were now pulling up in cars!
I checked the street behind this guy to see if buses were lining up!!!!!

More new folks. And you will notice, now I am taking pictures of THEM and not the sunrise!!!

Focus, focus!

My last picture, with the sun light pouring down between the clouds
and the ocean taking a bow with the lovely splash of a wave.
AND NO PEOPLE.

Ok, this is my last picture! The rays of sun, just needed to take this last picture.

  

I knew it was mean of me not to want to share this beautiful event that happens every single morning since the beginning of recorded time (and before.) 

But, seriously, next time I am going to put up a sign at the end of the entrance to 94th Street - 

stop

Private Showing!

Only One Reservation Accepted

This sunrise is booked!

Try again tomorrow.

Signed

The Atlantic Ocean!

The Phone Call ...

I live by the old adage “No news is good news.” 

Leaving a handicapped husband behind results in spending as much time preparing him for my absence as I do packing for myself. But I have done these short trips with no problems.  Except I guess my mind is always “on the ready” to respond, to anticipate, to assume the worst while I am gone ‘cause that is what my mind did on this occasion!

Important to the following story is this face. Remember this face! 

My cousin and I were on a short shopping trip to purchase some seafood just outside of town. As we traveled down Ocean Highway, I enjoyed the opportunity to see older housing structures from Ocean City’s early years. The original buildings of the 30s, 40s and 50s located near the original point of the town were more “old-time beachy,” painted in typical light colors, older, only one for two stories high, more weathered from years of use and storms.  I pondered about the history those old buildings could tell! In my youth during the 60s, Ocean City was just a summer beach town and a destination for students Spring Break adventures and family summer trips.  Why I remember a time ....

And then my cell phone rang dragging me out of my head and into the present!

I glanced at the screen and was surprised to see my downstairs neighbor’s name.  In lightening speed the scenery was forgotten and my mind went to all the reasons (bad ones) that she could be calling me while I was out of town!  Topping the list of reasons was my husband and that something had happened to him. I could feel my heart rate start to climb. 

I answered!

She said hi - just like that. “Hi!” ... like there was no emergency, just a friendly neighborly call.  Confusion peppered my brain.  I was thinking ...  Seriously?  I am out of town, and you are calling to say “hi?"   It was like she was speaking in Greek and I was listening in Spanish!  All that in one little word ... “hi.” 

And then she said ... “I think I have one of your window screens. Found it on the sidewalk.”

While I did my best to put “window screen” and “husband” in the same sentence meaningfully, she went on. “Yes, I am outside now looking up, and I can see it is missing from your  window.  Should I bring it up to you?”

Ahhhh ... ok, window screens ... my heart rate began to slow. 

   #1 She did not know I was out of town. 

   #2 She isn’t calling about my husband. 

   #3 How the heck did my window screen spontaneously fall from my window?  

Although my mouth was still bone dry at this point, my tongue was working again.  After letting her know I was out of town, she agreed to keep the screen at her condo till I returned.  I think I managed to end that call without letting on how fracture my brain-tongue connection was.

I hung up and immediately called my husband.  He picked up - sounding like everything was fine too!  Of course, he had no idea a screen was missing, so he really was fine!  We spent the next 15 minutes ... him opening and closing windows, and checking for the screens - and once he identified the one that was missing, he shut that window so the bugs wouldn’t come in and Aja wouldn’t fall out! 

And Aja.  My mind had already jumped to the cause and the culprit! 

The story behind the story!

A few months ago, I discovered what I thought was a defect in a new window screen.  The screen company replaced it - because it wasn’t even one year old.  That screen had a slit near the bottom edge of the frame.  No biggie.  It was apparent to me that the slit was a manufacturing defect.  The screen company honored their guarantee.  All was good.  But with this second episode - the “screen-jumping” episode,  I began to put 2 and 2 together.  One damaged screen, one screen leaping off the second floor spontaneously ... and birds ... lots and lots of neighborhood birds, and some who like to play chicken with my cat - birds with an obvious death wish!  

It is cool-ish outside now.  Our windows are mostly closed.  

Yes, that is a mini-screen in front of the window screen - clamped in place
by the window above.

The windows that are open, now have a protective window screen shield. No other window screens have been forced into taking that leap to the ground since the use of these mini-screens.  

So what do you think?  

Not naming any names, of course, and I have witnessed nothing. But the evidence is piling up. Do you think this charming little face - is hiding “killer intent” that no thin screen material will keep her from achieving her goal? 

DEATH TO ALL BIRDS!!

 😍

Well, she is a cat, after all, and cats are only partly domesticated.  And she is female which is the “business end” of her species and designed for hunting down prey to feed kittens.   And finally, she is a hunter as evidenced by her stalking of flying insects who might have accidentally stumbled into HER condo (through an open screen I might add) and sadly became an amusement as well as an appetizer for her.  Those birds were just too much for her!  Thank God she didn’t fall from the open window.

Now in addition to my own prep for travel and my husband’s needs, I have added Aja to my travel check list! 

Assess cat related hazards.   (check ☑️ ) 🐈

Next up: A Sunrise Reserved for One

 

Part 2: Art Show - All the Rest

Again, I will let most of the pictures do the talking! 

 

I wonder what this picture is saying!

Beautiful renditions of crabs done in various textures.
These were really lovely to see in person. 

hmmm ... an attempt to involve the viewer in the creation, maybe?  

More wearable art.  Not as breath taking as the items from a previous post.

But very interesting up close - again, created using the printed word.  Very ingenious.

Artistic creations being worn. 

Overhead lamps were beautiful as well.

One of the light fixtures seen up close.

Painting on Silk - stunning use of color.
My personal favorite after the chain link dress.
  I love the use of color, the flow of the lines and the use of dark and light.  
Here is a fabric I would enjoy wearing.

A section seen up close!

Outside art work!

Materials used to create outside art work.

Close up shot shows the details.
The devil is always in the details!

There was so much more but that is all I have saved on my phone.

Next up: The Phone Call