Well that’s a bug
Saturday December 08th 2018, 11:14 pm
Filed under: Life

The answer to Jayleen’s question is, give or take a few that may be dormant or may simply have gone on to the Great Leaf Beyond, about thirty amaryllis bulbs. I have a number of older ones that seem to bloom every other year. They’re definitely worth their water when they do.

I finished the moss green cowl yesterday but we’ll see if it gets delivered tomorrow; I’m coming down with the bug my husband has had for a few days now. It may well be that a good night’s sleep is all I need (she said hopefully.) Although, I didn’t have the oomph to knit today.

Seems like in the wake of last month’s fires and dark air, a lot of people seem to be coming down with respiratory bugs. I’d be curious to see some stats on that.

We bought a box of a hundred face masks a few months ago so we’d use them and so we’d always have enough to share if someone wants one, an act of wistfulness that those in otherwise good health might become more mindful of those who aren’t. I keep my purse stocked.

I have new buds on my mango tree today. Happy December!



Do not open before Christmas
Friday December 07th 2018, 10:11 pm
Filed under: Amaryllis,Family,Lupus

My dad sent us home from our visit last month with my suitcase stuffed with six really big amaryllis bulbs. (Pro tip: the TSA machine reads those as bombs.)

What they needed was fresh soil and big heavy pots to keep the future multiple sun-tracking stalks from knocking them over sideways. Hopefully. Which is fine, except that I just wasn’t looking forward to that trip down the freeway, much though I like supporting Yamagami’s. It’s a great nursery with a lot of pre-Silicon Valley history to it.

And part of that foot-dragging was UV-sensitive hours vs our rush hour that starts just after 2:00; December is safer lupus-wise for walking around outdoors than November.

Meantime, in the nice warm house two of them started to sprout a few days ago so I cut holes in their bags and turned them over to un-tilt their sense of direction.

Found a third one starting to sprout this morning. The middle one. It did all that in under 24 hours. Okay, that’s it, time to get going, yay for December, and Yamagami’s once again impressed me with what good people they hire.

Opening the fourth bag, I’d had no idea that bulb in the foreground had even come out of dormancy.

You can tell.

Oops.

Dark red, wine, white, pink/red/white, with the bags tucked under each for now so I can remember which is which.

Thank you, Dad! Can’t wait! Now that they’re finally planted the little kid in me is like, so BLOOM now! C’mon guys, hurry up!

 



Their gift back
Friday December 07th 2018, 12:25 am
Filed under: Friends,Knitting a Gift

I got word back about the undyed cashmere/cotton blanket that I knit awhile back, going beyond baby blanket size because I had the yarn and I could and that I told the parents they could use it for their new daughter or as an afghan on the couch–it was whatever they wanted it to be for.

Turns out it has gone through the laundry any number of times (shed a bunch of fluff in the process I have no doubt) and has done fine.

And, though they don’t let her toddle around the house dragging it behind her, their little girl goes to bed cuddling with it every night. It is the lovie that every knitter aspires for their baby blanket to become.



A circular moss gathered no stitches
Wednesday December 05th 2018, 8:01 pm
Filed under: Knitting a Gift,Life

Before our trip to Alaska I was working on this moss-green cowl for someone but put it aside to work on my nephews’ hats.

Then I couldn’t find it.

I have this assignment at church I love, to bring chocolate every week to the mothers’ nursing lounge, slipping in before and after the meetings so that none of the kids figures out what I’m up to and tries to raid the stash. Since Stitches, for that task I’ve been using the purple bag my Lisa Souza yarn came in: it’s pretty and it’s celebratory without being too loud. Not to mention, any adult on cleanup duty who took one look at it would know exactly who it belongs to–the knitter.

I finally figured I must have had the cowl ziploc with me at church and put it in there at one point–but I’d left the bag with someone else while we were going out of town and then this past Sunday we met in a different building, where chocolate wasn’t my responsibility, so it had been gone from me two weeks now.

I sent off an email.

I got no response.

The person I was making it for had already seen it and knew it was coming and I had to get on it, but I can’t do what I can’t do. There was simply no sign of it here absolutely anywhere.

So… I grabbed some plain ecru Piuma cashmere and started a substitute, because even if you don’t get the color you want, nobody can complain about cashmere, right? (The other was cashmere/silk/merino, though.) I had to have something come Sunday.

I had very nearly finished the new cowl today a few minutes after sending one last message to the holder of that purple bag. She answered this time: there was no knitting to be found there.

I did the last row and a half, the cast-off, and having used unscoured yarn straight from the cone I put that Piuma in hot soapy water, where the yarn poofed out and came to life with the mill oils gone. So soft now. (Note the pattern is a mesh one that works up fast. That was on purpose.)

Thinking about that moss green Diamante that I so wanted to give to the person who has so been looking forward to it, I walked back across the house thinking, Did I look over at…? I had to have. I looked everywhere. But I’m going to just go see just to be sure.

It looked up at me from under that Time magazine as innocent as a cat in a Christmas tree. It had gotten me to knit an extra, at record speed, in December. Hah.

It’s got an extra leaf motif in it now…



Quake’s Eve
Monday December 03rd 2018, 10:46 pm
Filed under: Family

I did not get a picture of Her Regalness while we were there, but picture a very longhaired, poufy fluffy black cat with big round eyes. One is who is getting up in years and can no longer run as fast from the toddler as she once could.

They have his and hers cats and Sam has had Eve since she was a kitten. After the puppy arrived, the cats had an escape hatch through one of the bedroom doors.

You know those toys that challenge a baby to match a square block to a square hole, a round one to a round one, etc? Mathias at a year old just thwacked the one with the other, as tiny people do, but by last week the simpler shapes were a piece of cake and he even got them in most of the time.

But that cat door.

It’s a sideways oval. His head is round. He can see through it if he hunches down. So that should work, right? But his shoulders, and his head was bigger than that hole anyway. We about died laughing while he was trying to follow the cats into their room: feeling the edges of the space as it bounced his forehead back, confused why it just refused to comply.

His mommy got him the feather toy and helped him make it leap around where the cats were surely watching. Sure enough, a disembodied white paw belonging to the other one suddenly darted in and out at that feather. Mathias was in heaven: it was playing with him!

Normally they keep their distance from small people. He hasn’t quite got the method down of how to stroke their fur so that it feels good to them as well as him–and that black cat is the one you’d most want to touch. She runs at the sight of him, almost not fast enough anymore that one time I saw them at it before she made it through her door while I was dashing to the rescue.

A week later, the earthquake happened.

Nobody was home.

Eve freaked.

When my son-in-law made it home before the others, he found her: she was wedged under the couch, immobilized possibly by an aftershock, but however she got there it was a very small space and it couldn’t have been fun; he rescued her.

That night she did not go through that narrow little cat door.

Instead, at the baby’s bedtime, there she was, lying down under Mathias’s crib of all places.

Nothing could fall on her there, she could see out to the hallway, and even though she was safely underneath the crib, it left so much space above her that she could never be wedged in again. Not here.

She was with her people. She was safe now.



Distraction ornaments
Sunday December 02nd 2018, 8:14 pm
Filed under: Family

The best unbreakable post-earthquake Christmas decorations on a tree to make a small toddler happy?

Silicone measuring cups and spatulas, and don’t even try to take them off. Those are what you celebrate with. That’s where they GO.



Sunday’s forecast there: snow
Saturday December 01st 2018, 11:31 pm
Filed under: Family,Knitting a Gift

Plain, simple, thick, soft, warm, machine washable hats in Mecha.

In Salt Lake three weeks ago I offered to knit one for my niece. (She wanted cream.)

Single moms and their kids could use a little love and a little warmth against all kinds of cold, and with their dad having ditched them, they all need family-centered moments and memories that bring them together when so much in their world has been torn apart.

Which means she got these first two photos today and was told that just because these are the ones I knitted so far doesn’t mean these are the ones her kids had to like–I can knit more and I can buy more yarn. It is a privilege to be able to.

The skein on the left, one of the boys asked.

Sure! I dove right in and kept going till my hands demanded I do something else for awhile.

This is at night, and sunlight will brighten things up a lot, but even though I really like this this isn’t quite what I was expecting–it’s a lot less blue–and I’m not sure it’s what he is either.

So the keyboard and I just opened up a couple of other options and we’ll see how it goes when they come. I want to make the choices theirs as much as I humanly can from an internet away with what photography skills I (don’t) have.



Anchorage earthquake
Friday November 30th 2018, 11:48 pm
Filed under: Family,Life

Thank you all for the many notes checking up on our family; that meant a great deal to me, all day long, as all those messages of love came in over and over. The first one in my inbox this morning was actually my heads-up that the quake had happened, and I ran across the house for my phone to go see.

Her first text had come in. Sam was able to get a single phone call out to us shortly thereafter and we did the designated-contact-in-an-emergency thing and passed the word to her siblings: she and her family were safe.

She had been on the seventh floor of her downtown building. She made it out okay to go get the baby from daycare. That red SUV in all the news pictures with the road collapsed all around it except for its one tiny island of safety? That’s about a mile from where she had to go to to get him.

Her husband made it home first, finding the damage minimal and cleaning up the broken glass and dishes so they wouldn’t have to come home to that. They, meantime, were in a designated shelter, and after hours, finally they were able to make it home, too.

They are closer to the epicenter than downtown was.

Sam posted pictures of Mathias on FB holding a broom and dustpan, “helping” with the cleanup (now that there was no broken glass for him to get hurt on.)

We were on some of those very roads last weekend, and of course they live there, and for the moment they’re hunkering down and staying put and out of the way of those officially trying to do all that needs to be done in the aftermath of such a big quake.

There was some talk of maybe upgrading it later to a 7.2, but a 7 is plenty.

I remember trying to sleep on what felt like a waterbed with the endless aftershocks when we had our Loma Prieta. Theirs are stronger.

Our loved ones are well. Our terrified grandcat that wedged herself under the couch in her panic has been rescued. She later decided underneath Mathias’s crib was the safe place to be; normally she considers him the little tail-grabber who must be avoided, but she was staying close.

Others’ families are well, too, and we are grateful beyond words.

And thank you, again, to all of you who were reaching out to ask. In the intensity of the day those kindnesses were a great comfort.



Creaming it
Wednesday November 28th 2018, 8:25 pm
Filed under: Family

Another of my favorite pictures from the trip: my son-in-law treating his wife to a break and their son to some ice cream at Coldstone.

This is just before the table got exuberantly enhanced.

It looks like deep snow out the window, which one might expect because hey, Alaska, but that is where the parking-lot snow got pushed to. While we were there there was only an ice-coated inch or so, with a threat of rain; it’s been unseasonably warm.

So we got our own frozen stuff. And brought some home to Mommy.

.



Celebrate everything!
Tuesday November 27th 2018, 2:54 pm
Filed under: Family,Life

The people on the bus go up and down… Up! (Bongo drum bongo drum and then play at taking the plastic lid on and off the heavy melamine bowl. “Off!”)

The first time we visited Alaska we toured a farm with reindeer that happily ate out of our hands and with Santa’s sleigh off to the side–it was surprising how small and low down it was, but then reindeer aren’t very big, either. That’s where we learned the difference between reindeer and caribou: reindeer have been specifically bred for the last hundred fifty years or so towards domestication, whereas caribou are wild.

At the musk ox farm in Palmer, they pointed to the reindeer to say they’ve been working on domesticating their own animals for fifty years now and figure they have a hundred to go.

After we got home from that trip I was delighted to discover one last little piece of reindeer crunchies (it looked like hamster food) in my sweater pocket.

So. At the gas station with the perfect name on Saturday there was this moment of hey, I know where that’s from…! We could just make out the tops of quite a few animal heads moving around in that trailer.

Who knew Santa’s sleigh travels by flatbed¬†before the big day?

 

 



Nineteen months
Monday November 26th 2018, 9:02 am
Filed under: Family,Life

At the kids’ house in Anchorage, if you look up at the wall near the ceiling in the living room (where it’s way out of dog or baby reach) you say “Alexa” with a command and music starts playing. The wheels on the bus go round, and round, and round, after round… I had a verse he didn’t know, though: the wipers on the bus go swish swish swish, complete with big arm motions, not little ones. This was totally Mathias’s kind of thing, and when Alexa finished he would look at me expectantly, waiting for it with a big grin.

If only he could command that thing, too. “Lessa? Lessa?” doesn’t quite pull it off.

Turns out that standing in his bedroom looking up at the light switch and commanding “OFF!” loudly does not make the light go on or off, either. Not for lack of trying on his part. Somehow that wall just wasn’t compliant.

“Off” to him meant change which way it is, so I practiced saying and demonstrating “on” and “off” with him. A new word to apply to it! He liked that, but persisted for now with his version. But hey, what baby doesn’t love playing with light switches, and here was Grammy aiding and abetting. Good times.

He’s at the two-syllable-sentence stage that I so love.

Except for in his mommy’s reading of one Sandra Boynton book. I was not expecting “armadillo” out of him. I guess it counted as two two-syllables?

We had such a good time!



Airporting
Thursday November 22nd 2018, 12:19 am
Filed under: Knit

The housesitter saw us off.

Alaskan air, after these past two weeks of fire skies at home, is cold and crisp and oh so blessedly clear.



Well lived
Monday November 19th 2018, 10:35 pm
Filed under: Family,Life

LeeAnne Dalton linked to this poem and called it a favorite, and now it’s one of mine, too. Especially right now.

My Uncle Wally, twice widowed himself, fell hard for a widow who, when the family met Marie, thoroughly understood why and welcomed her as their own.

There was her house, there was his house, and they decided to sell them both, marry, and buy a new one together where all the memories would be the ones they made, just theirs.

Hers found a buyer.

His sat on the market. And sat.

His baby brother, whose start-up company had done very well, finally told them, Listen, *I’ll* buy your house–enough of this, go get married, you crazy kids! (The oldest brother being 80 at the time.)

This wasn’t my idea, it was hers but it’s a great one that I want to pass on: I recently texted my cousin a short note that I was about to call for her dad, and then rang her phone. Alerted by that text, she let it go to voicemail so that she could then play the recording for him when she visited and let Wally know that he is thought of, remembered in our day-to-day lives wherever we are, and loved.

Now he really needs that. Marie, artist, composer, and the love of his old age these sixteen or seventeen years or so, quietly slipped away yesterday. She came to “the gate opening like a secret” and I wonder how long now till his hand reaches out towards hers.



Cat calling
Sunday November 18th 2018, 11:26 pm
Filed under: Family

I do love FaceTime.

Mathias went toddling after the cat, who to be on the safe side escaped down the hall towards the bedrooms. Next thing you know, the parental iPad had caught up with him and there he was with his face up against the one with the cat door at the bottom.

He could see through it so why couldn’t he fit through it? Was this another one of those square/circle puzzles? It just wasn’t working for him.

He was offered the feathered cat toy and he got the concept, only, he wanted to play with the feather himself and kept pushing the string part through to entice the cat. His daddy sat down on the floor, put him in his lap, and reversed things: here, you push the feather through the square hole and hold onto the string like this.

Mathias cheerfully went along with this new method.

Me: Looks like you’re fishing for cats.

Her, holding the iPad: Pretty much!

Cat: white paw darts in and out of view at the feather and finally it sticks its head in its doorway to see where it had gone. Oh. It’s you. Never mind, and disappears again.



Love your dear ones
Sunday November 18th 2018, 12:00 am
Filed under: Friends,Knit,Life

My friend Lisa Souza of lisaknit.com ditched dinner tonight after she looked out the window: instead, she and her husband were grabbing important papers and pets and throwing everything in the car at the speed of life.

She lives in a town some of the Camp Fire people had evacuated to.

A car on the road beyond had hit a power pole and gone down the embankment as the sky lit up in fire.¬†Hours later she posted a picture she’d stopped a moment to snap that also showed headlights well below, pointed upwards, like, what just happened??

She reported that somehow the guy inside was okay and that the firefighters had tamped down the ferocious brilliance and were only checking for hotspots now. Those guys are good at what they do and I for one could never ever imagine doing it. Wow.

Our AQI is down to 144, rain is forecast for Wednesday and it looks like everybody will finally get a break.

What I really wanted to write about was all the cool stuff I knitted today, but I just didn’t. As the lungs slowly find clarity I intend to have more oomph. Tomorrow would be good.