ProseKnitic – of Words und Wolle

Where two years ago my life was regulated by staff meetings, videot-eleconferences and the meal times of what ever DFAC I was able to tolerate at the moment, today my life is bounded by docking and on board times. Yes the concern of matching meal times is there, but faintly on the horizon since it is possible to get food 24/7 on a ship.

It is still under two years ago since I redeployed from Afghanistan via the Air Force in one of their few charitable acts (not being known for their willingness to make life easier for non-MEDVAC patients but having enough sense to fill extra seats since it really didn’t cost them any extra effort). 

I turned in ACUs – in fact I have gotten rid of essentially any and all clothing that even remotely resembled my uniforms in favor of the uniform of a civilian. There are few mementos in our house. Those that up on the kitchen wall I am planning on replacing with photos and art from travels.

My uniform now is Jack Wolfskin casual made up of t-shirts, long & short sleeve shirts along with pants in varying shades of grey and black with the occasional bite of red thrown in for luck. For dress up, there is a skirt/top in mostly black with a couple of color accents. I have jogging gear where the only color really comes from rainbow shoes just for cheeriness.

I now have an iPhone which I keep on airplane mode most of the time just to avoid roaming charges but it seems tho that I still bound my life with schedules. I still know where I am going to be for almost every day between now and next year at this time. The difference is that I am making the choice and am not at the whim of some faceless bureaucracy in DC or some commander who is more concerned about their own evaluation than they are about those who work for them.

Perhaps in a couple of years this phase of my life may be over as well, but there are so many places to go and ports to see ….. in my personally chosen choice of clothes…

as of today we no longer have a teenager in the house. Last but certainly not least – Maus turns 20.

such a small bundle developed her own style

and way of viewing the world

she makes friends

 

and headed back to school this fall leaving the house rather quiet.

I am sure she doesn’t think of herself as the baby of the family; and we no longer have a teenager!

Rather than bother to talk about St Maartens (where I am sitting in a cafe with bad coffee and a slow connection) I would rather talk about this guy who has grown into

which means that a 7#13oz baby born in 1991 can turn into a completely functioning, happy and healthy 22 year old young man. He does himself proud.

He is in Scottsdale, I am in St Maarten.

George took the call from Reiner this afternoon.

We met Nina Fink in In the summer of 1994. Out in one of the small towns near Heidelberg at a Fest and there was a group of spinners. One of them was Nina. She reached out to this fairly lost American and made me feel welcome in the local spinning guild. Over the next several years she and I got to know each other better at various spinning demonstrations and Spinntreff. Our families got together for various picnics and other events. My eldest has been good friends with their eldest for years and we have known their youngest since birth. George and Reiner have collaborated on some projects.

Since they live off the end of the earth (train or car to Eberbach then head up into the Odenwald till you feel like you have traveled back decades. The old house in which they live used to be a guesthouse complete with hof, barn/stables/carriage house and a huge room for parties. The place was packed on her 40th birthday (14? 15? years ago).

What with the distance and my retirement, the last time we physically saw each other was at our home in May 2011 (Been there, Done with That party).

Apparently she started feeling ill and developed what is often called “the dwindles” about six months ago. Repeated doctor visits didn’t come up with a cause. But Nina was her own person as well; German by birth she became an Australian citizen when they lived there 25 years ago. Didn’t matter to her what the local Amt had to say when she returned about residency permits and the like. Aussie she had decided to be, and Aussie she was. So you might say a bit stubborn. She turned down the advanced diagnostics offered.

Last Thursday, 7 Feb, she took a sudden turn for the worse and went the “stop breathing, ambulance, resuscitation, hospital, intensive care” route but nothing worked.

Reiner called tonight to tell us. It turned out to be disseminated cancer. There will be a memorial service in about a week.

Bright, funny and extremely capable, her loss will be felt not just by her family but all the rest of us who knew her. One of those people who helped without question and rarely asked for much of anything in return. Saying someone was a good mother, goat herder, spinner and baker might not be impressive to many in this day and age but it made a difference to her husband and children.

Besides feeling the hole that is there, I acknowledge my share of anger. At myself for not staying in closer touch since we always think we have all the time in the world. And at Nina for not being willing to find out what was wrong in the face of increasing physical illness. She might not have chosen to live her life any differently, but her family would have had time to come to terms with a future empty of her.

George and I looked at each other. We will do what we can for both Reiner and Timmy over the coming months. We also made the commitment to each other to “knock you over the head and drag you in by the hair (long, short, doesn’t matter)” if either of us gets ill. I am a believer in knowledge as a way to exercise what little control one has in this life. Denial and avoidance generally don’t have any better result than having information and can limit choices.

I can’t die in my mid-50s – I am already well past that. Losing friends younger than me? Just should not happen…….

That she was a baby. At least in mom time it seems like just yesterday instead of 34 years ago that I had my first baby, toddler,

young girl. She has risen to the challenge of multiple moves as a result of her dad’s and my careers. Changed schools, changed cities, survived the growth of our family by three younger siblings. Got her degree in Hospitality & Hotel Management and entered the job market just in time to get flattened by the post 2001 tourism slow down. Over the years she has worked in hotels, restaurants and as a professional photographer. Like me, she spends more time behind the camera lens than in front of it.

In spite of all the challenges over the years, she has maintained a strong sense of self. Since she lives in Schwetzigen I still get to see her quite often. I enjoy spending time with the lovely competent woman my Eldest has become.

please send her birthday wishes

Maus had a 1050 flight this morning on Lufthansa back to NYC. Angel, the friend who came for a visit has a flight later in the day on BA via Heathrow. Not being a totally or completely unsympathetic mother sentencing off-spring and guest to early morning train rides I had offered to drive them to Fraport. The only warning I had given was that we had to be on the road by 0630.

It was not that I thought that she needed to be at the airport that early, or I wanted to sentence Angel to extra hours of hanging out and being totally bored. Rather, I know the traffic on the Autobahns after about 0730 in the morning and I just didn’t want to be in it.

You can imagine my surprise at 0625 when I had both of them, Maus complete with carryon and Angel with both of his bags completely packed, standing in the dining room. Of course, this did not include a bit of art that Miriam had painted last summer that was apparently destined to travel with them. It wasn’t wrapped in anything because she didn’t think we had any bubble wrap.

I am not a horder, but I am a packrat. Bubble wrap was in the cupboard with the wrapping, packing and shipping supplies along with scissors and tape. Ten minutes later we had wrapped up canvas and were headed to the car me on foot, the kids via the elevator. End result was that we were on the road at 0650.

You know where I am going with this.

Everything was fine flying up the A5 until we hit the 67/5 Interchange. The signage had been updated. Darmstadt on one sign, Frankfurt on the other. No mention of Flughafen at all. Since my mind was thinking Frankfurt, I stuck with the A67. Less than one exit later I realized my mistake and bailed off toward Darmstadt (yes, you can get there from the A67 as well as the A5). However there was road construction. This particular road construction eliminated the entrance onto A5 from our direction. The end result was that I had to head to the Darmstadter Ost Bahnhof to find a safe to turn around, turn on the GPS and head back toward the A5. Getting on going north wasn’t an issue from this direction.

Of course, once we were on the A5 traffic was at a standstill. It was 0730. For the next 45 minutes we traveled a whopping whole 17 km with the traffic not clearing out till the Flughafen exit. I dropped the kids off about 0820 which was significantly later than I had planned.

Luckily there was essentially no traffic on the way home. I was able to stop at PHV and drop off library books, clear out my mailbox and be home well before 1000.

Now it is just a matter of catching up on all the posts and emails I have been avoiding all week. Packing – can’t forget the packing which can’t happen till I get a couple of loads of laundry completed.

So I think knitting is a much better idea since I don’t have to catch a train before 0430 in the morning….

Contrast & Complement

It is at times like this – looking at past pictures when I fully recognize how much like each other my daughters look.

Now I will admit that hair styles change both in color and length over the years – right now neither of the older girls are being Alice [in Wonderland] as well as clothing styles and tastes.

But they both are smart, loyal, brave. Both have the ability to exceed their own expectations as well as those of others. Happiness comes from with-in, but as a parent I still enjoy being able to say … my daughter the ……

This evening as I finally found an adapter plug which worked with the Swiss outlets….. (insert whatever kind of rant you think you would enjoy the most – fact is the Swiss have to be unique on everything. Everything includes a three pin outlet. Not two like the rest of Europe but three. Plus they are set in a staggered line. Must have rant somewhere, can’t believe I haven’t howled about this before).

Anyway – I am attempting to locate the backup of photos I took for Aeris’ Christmas party last December (insert rant here about having burned off DvD and entrusted it with guy to take to work ….). As part of this fruitless hunt along with pulling together lecture materials for a series on Staying Healthy while Traveling or perhaps – Travel Smart, Travel Healthy or finally – Idiot’s guide to not eating yourself to death while on a cruise ship….

Where was I? Oh yes, looking for photos and lecture materials all of which were dependent on being able to plug one of several rather large and heavy external drives into a power supply….. The DHs flat mate gave me an adapter plug last night. It was gone this morning. Tore out my hair but that didn’t help. Turned out it was plugged into the hairdryer….

I found lots of old photos, including the following – which made me realize that we often talk too much about what our children are accomplishing or doing, but little about who they really are….

The youngest two, captured about 14 years ago.

And it is who they are – not how they are doing in school, their jobs, or life – but just them.

And now the other two will worried about how I will feature them tomorrow…..

Did I mention that I elected to head to Switzerland this morning with George? It seemed like the thing to do since it is not as if we have been spending a whole lot of time together over the last 6 weeks what with both his business trips and me spending more than a bit of time on the Vision of the Seas. All of which may go to explain why I spent the morning in the car, the afternoon in part of the office moving files and otherwise thinking I should possibly be getting some work done.

The flat in Wollerau is second floor (US) and up a set of outside stairs. Getting there this evening involved a short drive in the car, hauling various bags and backpacks full of my computer stuff and then waiting on Frank (the business partner who shares the place) since our key happens to be in Heidelberg.

Fully exhausted, I crashed fairly early, then woke just short of midnight unable to sleep which probably has a lot to do with time zones. Not turning on lights, I was able to locate my computer at the dining area table by dint of the screensaver.

Finding my way back to bed was even easier. Two bedrooms, one with the door shut and the other occupied by the man I love dearly. All I had to do was follow my ears to locate him in the dark.

And another year older. Thank all of you who have already sent me emails. I think all of you do a better job than I in tracking such things.

So rather than entertain you with the fact that I have survived another year, a number of cruises, getting all the off spring out of the house and more than a full year of retirement – I will just give you pictures!

I managed to avoid formal night tonight. Sushi seemed like a better idea. Besides – who in their right mind wants to be embarrassed in public by out of tune waitstaff attempting Happy Birthday. So not my thing……

Just to mention it, but 2012 seems to be following the pattern George and I had established for years. His birthday, our anniversary, my birthday – we are in different cities, different countries and often on different continents.   Today it is 67F in New Brunswick. It was in the 90s in Minnesota that fine Sunday afternoon in 1978 that we were married.  Today, it isn’t flowers, just love and greetings sent by email from different cities, countries, continents. I am not going to count up the number of years that this has happened, just grateful that it is travel for fun – rather than a deployment to Afghanistan that is causing the challenge.

I am sorry he is not here in Canada, but still – I love ships and I really think he likes his job just a bit better than cruising!

St John itself has an interesting history. To hear the guides tell it, the area was “discovered in the 1640s.” Then of course there were first the French who turned it over to the British as part of the settlement of the British-French wars. Then there were the Patriots who moved north (about 70k of them) after the US Independence. Then about 31k of Irish were imported since they needed someone to do the work.

I headed out of town on a short rail journey to see the river empty into the Bay of Fundy. Since the tide level change is about 28′ there is flow back up the river for several miles during high tide creating a very interesting marine environment (including seals having a nice snack on the fish stupid enough to be washed up river into the fresh water).  The area is called the reversing falls.

Wandering a bit around the city as well to the Jewish Museum (community once 300+ families and thriving, now down to about 30), the New Brunswick Museum and a yarn shop (where I bought….. nothing!) prior to heading back to the ship. Pictures are not yet downloaded – so I will post them on line tomorrow.

(or two as the case maybe).

As we were sitting there relaxing, looking at computers and other nonsense – George mentioned we should call kids in the states. As it is 1600 here, that might/might not be a good idea.

-6 hrs to Maus

-7 hrs to Soprano

-9 hrs to CollegeGuy

after all, it is the weekend. Not everyone rolls out of bed at the crack of dawn or, let us say, 0800 on a Sunday morning. But I can pick up the phone every hour and talk to a different kid – not so bad in either the short or long term. Of course, after tomorrow I will be in the states and the time zones will be less.

Which reminds me, I am feeling calm and organized for my trip tomorrow, I was packed completely (except for winding some yarn) by 1500. This left plenty of time this afternoon to back up computers, print out the occasional thing, spin a bit and otherwise clean up.

Would have helped if I had remembered my boarding pass before 2100, but that is another story.

Back to a kid an hour. After playing with WhatsApp to txt with all three girls while at dinner, we started calling when we got home. First Maus, since she is on Eastern Time. Next up would be Nina, except she was at the train station meeting a friend. Then comes Noah. Which means, of course that we reached Noah first who is recovering from pneumonia, then the Maus and it looks like I will finally be able to reach Nina.

Now to print a boarding pass and crash. What a concept – bed before midnight!

 

George has belonged to a discussion group for years. Like since Ms Soprano started kindergarten. The guys have gotten together on Thursday nights on a weekly basis and done the occasional weekend or trip.

They are all getting older, about 20 years at that. One of them I believe has just retired to the Odenwald. This Thursday they decided to meet out there, complete with wives being invited.

I don’t know that you care to see all the people, but thought I would share the more important things….

 

I am so confused anymore that I don’t remember if I wrote this – or just planned on writing it – so please bear with me. (or put up with the bare essentials of the story).

On the ship one evening we had dinner with three other couples, all of whom were doing back-to-back (normally abbreviated B2B) cruises. They had started in Vancouver around the time we started from Fairbanks, stayed with the ship through the turnaround in Seward and were now heading home. They all lived in or near Vancouver as I remembered.

Partway through the meal one woman remarked that she was going to need a couple of days to get back in the routine of cooking dinner every night. The other two women agreed with her.

George looked at me with a straight face. I looked back and seriously asked – when was the last time I fixed dinner? He didn’t know. Neither did I. Might have done since I have been back from deployment (that would be March 2011) but don’t think so – not if fixing a meal includes him (and anyone else who happens to be home at the time).

Since I was in the UK between Jan 2008-Aug 2010, that time probably doesn’t count – George wasn’t there. Miriam says I did cook there, at least some of the time.

So that leaves me back to late 2007: that is over 4 1/4 years.

I fixed dinner tonight. It was only the two of us but I made spinach and mozzarella & tomato salad to accompany the oven grilled salmon. Not that the flash frozen filets were anywhere as tasty as the fresh caught Alaskan we had been enjoying for the cruise-tour but tossing the filets into some white box wine and covering them with herbs did enhance the flavor some.

So – besides having decent fingernails for the first time in years due to all my protein consumption – am I off the cooking hook till 2016?

I have decided that hanging out and waiting on delivery people is even harder than going out and doing things.

There you are, stuck in one place for hours on end because they are coming on “Monday or Tues” or “Tues/Wed”

In any case you know exactly what is going to happen: be gone (or in the bathroom) for more than five minutes and you can almost guarente that whomever you are waiting on is going to show up. Even if the delivery people have your phone number, it is not going to help since the only time anyone is going to call is after they are sitting in your driveway. Some how it seems to make more sense to them than getting out of the truck to knock on the door or ring the bell. Must be to do with Arizona and the summer heat.

If you hang out all day – then the second of the two possible delivery days is going to turn out to be the correct one, trust me.

OTOH – it may mean a lot of time available for knitting!

In spite of being so tired that I had to seriously concentrate to avoid walking into walls.

I met Mr Blonde and my sister in Scottsdale where I proceeded to present the house warming painting from Ms Maus to April. It was a big hit and I will post a photo tomorrow.

We managed to run a number of needed errands, handle a lot of paperwork and move a bunch of stuff. I am tired but I am beginning to think it is possible for everyone to be moved, if not settled, by the time I bail from town mid week.

Sorry this is so short and not particularly descriptive, but I really, really need some sleep.

-Holly

Mesa, AZ

and doesn’t look a day older than he did yesterday. For that matter, the love of my life doesn’t look any older than he did at 60.

Perhaps it is because he has lost about 25# in the last year and done more exercise? Maybe it is because he likes what he is doing (most days). But seriously, I am more than happy to truck around with “that grey haired guy” not the least of which is because it makes my gray hairs seem so few. He is my partner, my support and extremely tolerant when I am pitching one fit or another. He also understands my reasons for traveling. I think at times he just might be disappointed that I am not home more, but I am not exactly the slippers&pipe at the door type.

He also traps mice for me including disposing of the bodies. Now that is love.

p.s. As per usual, you can torture him at grATaeris-capitalDOTcom and sorry I didn’t get this up till around midnight but a day late is better than nothing (offspring in the US, are you reading this?)

The Maus and I walked into Heidelberg yesterday in pursuit of a couple pairs of jeans and “a few art supplies.”

We had our path marked out pretty well – a stop at Kraus proved that she is too tiny for most of their clothes. The follow on stop at Mango proved that young, hip, Spanish works. She now has jeans and some “looking professional and going to interview” clothing as well.

We picked up the Gummi Bears (well, we didn’t get him exactly bears, but the new New Blonde wanted some from the Heidelberg Shop). [In case you are wondering - the New Blonde is formerly known as The Mole. When you move to Phoenix and spend a lot of time outside, your hair goes back to the blonde of younger years. It also means you are no longer a mole).

Then we stopped in Idee. Maus has been there before. Heading back to the serious art supplies she soon had a stack of canvases (I was going to say pile, but that implies horizontal instead of vertical) and was raiding the acrylics. I now understand her continual art supply costs over the past year. Leave it with it "not cheap."

Just as we were finishing the skies opened up and the rain came down. I was glad she had Euro's since the idea of walking to the strassenbahn carrying five canvas, a back pack and two bags of supplies was not appealing even discounting the hike up the hill. 10E for a cab was a good bargain.

Getting organized she danced around the house getting set up, then went to work.

After raiding a closet for an old shirt of her dad’s (I picked based on what I knew and which I disliked the most), she set to work. Don’t think she heard a thing for hours and after those hours, it was obvious to me why she had wanted to wear old clothes.

In case you were wondering how I am spending my day – I am house hunting.

The place my sister is living is fine for one person but it is a bit off the beaten track and significantly far from any of the junior colleges. Since she is working full time, I am learning about what you get for how much a month here in Phoenix.

And, as you might have guessed – it is almost all about location. Not completely – it is also about A/C, pools and flooring. Carpet, when you have dogs is simply a collection place for hair, dirt and little critters. Tile costs a lot more. Community pools very so much in their sanitation standards (yes, there are inspections but that does nothing to control the people who use them) that I don’t blame the dynamic duo here from not likely the idea. Plus, community pools don’t allow dogs.

Having heard from a number of you who have family in AZ, or have lived in AZ, or got married in AZ I do understand it is hot. I have done deserts. I am ok with heat. What I am not ok with is the 4 million people who live here. Way too many and you are completely car dependent unless you live in a few limited areas. Add to that the fact that airfare out of here is not cheap and Phoenix is not in my retirement plans. (I can see my husband breathing a huge sigh of relief although I am not sure that he would hate Phoenix more than South Florida which is the current threat on the table).

Anyway – I am searching for a better place for them to live – the sister, my son, the dog, the two bird cages and ….five fish tanks?

There I was yesterday, standing in the lobby of LaQuinta checking to make sure that I was on the list for the Port of Miami Shuttle.

No, I don’t see my name on the list.

The young man at the desk asks for my name and I spell it.

Standing next to the desk is a young woman checking out on her way to the airport. Oh, she says, that is my middle name, it came from my mom.

We talk for a minute and she tells me she thinks it is of Russian/Romanian origin. That is interesting is my reply because usually most people think it is an Irish name.

Not in our family she says. I have it because my mom is one of four girls.

I look at her – Is your mother Carla?

Total stunned silence. I explain that I have met her aunt Margo (she has two sons) in Australia in 2010 and Karen (no children) back before we left DC in 1993. Met her grandparents as well but that was back in 1972.  Diane is in Chicago (no children) which means that she must be from the Austin branch of the family!

Rebecca is coming off break and on her way back to Vet School. I happily gave her emails and contact information for a few more cousins then waved as she boarded the shuttle for the airport.

So see – if I hadn’t scheduled this cruise I never would have found more one distant member of the family. At least that is my story.

The last (and obviously youngest) of our four was born 19 years ago today in Washington DC. Like her older siblings, she showed up at a time that was most convenient to her. In kindness to her brother, she waited till the next day. That may well be the last time in her life that she let him go first.

Maus is a youngest, sure of herself and her place in the world. She has her own sense of art, fashion and design. She adores being at Pratt in NY and spends an incredible amount of time on studies and assignments. This is all good. I will arrive late this afternoon after yet another long, Lufthansa flight (this one Frankfurt to JFK) in time to hang out with friends of hers while she takes her 1700 Art History mid-term.

My load will be considerably lightened from dropping off birthday presents and “things she forget or couldn’t fit in her suitcase” when she headed back to school after winter break. I think she gets dinner out of the dorm tonight.

I will then head to South Ferry. I will be staying with friends of George’s/ours who live on Staten Island. Since I have not been there before, perhaps I can add it to my life list of places visited (sort of like a birder’s list). Do I place it as part of NYC? In the Island list? Or perhaps as its very own country?

-Holly

Lufthansa Lounge, Terminal Z, Frankfurt Airport

As you can probably guess, we are celebrating a birthday today. The young man is now 21. The problem with turning 21 in Germany is that the birthday doesn’t really mean a whole lot. Certainly it is not a milestone the way it is in the US. In Germany you can drink beer at 16, drive a car at 18. You are considered an adult at 18, unless you are out in a training program at 16. Plenty of 16 year olds are working full time.

When I was a kid back in the US dark ages there were three ages that were important – 16 for driving, 18 for drinking and 21 for voting/signing contracts and otherwise having everyone think you are an adult. Probably built into the legal system as well. It didn’t mean that the foster care systems didn’t kick kids to the curb at 18 (somehow the State always seemed to be able to do things/get away with things that the rest of us can’t). The only real impact it has on his life is losing the military family ID card which means a major change in health care location and installation access for him.

Since he has been doing steadily better for the last few months, this may be the last time I can refer to him as The Maulwurf (Mole) and will have to come up with a new name. I can also tell that he is growing up; didn’t want pictures taken of him opening presents. So I will just tell you that he now has a nice jacket, a sweater, three more shirts, a bunch of art supplies for sketching and drawing, an electric razor and a really need shark pizza cutter.

Maulwurf Kuchen

There is actually a cake with that name. If you want to be really fancy, take a look at this one.

As the birthday boy, our very own Mole asked for one. The Eldest is the baker.

and she baked it for him.
First you bake a complete cake in a spring form pan.

you scoop out the center leaving about 1 cm on the sides and bottom.

After that — you take all those cake crumbs you removed, mix them with whipped cream and a few other goodies

Finally, there is a chocolate crumble covering that goes over the top (as pictured at the start).

Today is my little sister’s birthday. Since she was born in 1954 (which makes her a bit more than three years younger than me) I will let you do the math.

I looked through various files and realized that I have only one photo of the two of us

 

which is firmly attached to the wall. It is also behind glass which should explain how I have managed to turn a black and white portrait from the 1950s into something that looks like an old fashion sepia print. No flash, no scan, and a limit of ISO 1600 without a tripod.

Neither of us are particularly interested in celebrating birthdays anymore. They are a mark of time passing. I think of them as getting older, but not necessarily as aging. Aging is what happens with whiskey and wine – there is a thought that the time spent is accomplishing an improvement. Time passing is more like a car – the years and the miles pile on. Some of them are easy years with smooth roads and little bad weather. Other times, you are pounded by tornadoes and hurricanes.

My sister has survived an amazing number of challenges in her life. She is honest, extremely hard working devoted to an insane dog and some silly birds. May her next five years be a lot easier than the last half dozen. After all – even as an adult, the only one who should get to pick on my little sister is me.

to get him out of his den.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this case it was a double whammy – his computer was to stay in the living room till his bedroom passed muster. (Oh, the evil mom) and the chocolate was the last bar from my hoard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

Fairisle

As strange as it might seem, I haven’t really knit all that many stranded projects. Or perhaps I should say that I have avoided the traditional fair-isle. It always seemed way too difficult and too much work. Back, before I left on the last pair of cruises, I ordered a Starmore Kit. Oregon Vest to be specific.

and discovered once again that the stranding is not the issue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is all the flipping color changes! I mean really – there is a color change in one or both colors every four rows at the outside and usually every two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

if there wasn’t a steek involved I would be totally insane. The good thing is that there will be no ends to weave in.

She is lovely, my Eldest – bright, beautiful, a talented photographer and scary smart. And has a birthday today. Can it really be that many years since the early Saturday morning when she joined us with a squall and curious look? If I blink too fast, I might wake up and see that more years have gone by.

Since she is at sea with me, I can hardly suggest that you send her an email. On the other hand, she could always read them when she gets home.

I hardly remember whether or not I thought birthdays were all right to celebrate or not when I was in my 30s. In any case, it didn’t make much sense to bring anything heavy with me so that she could turn around and haul it back home (my suitcase to her suitcase, where is the logic in that?)

But still, I did bring a few small things since one can’t really count the cruise as a present completely since I get to participate with her. Hummm, what to do for next year?

Since my Canon 7D developed a hiccup while in Chicago and needs to visit the camera hospital, I pulled out my older Rebel XTI. Taking some shots of various knitting, I set the camera to download to my hard drive and wandered off. Heading back a few minutes later with a cup of tea, I was astonished to find the job still incomplete. It wasn’t a dozen or so pictures on the memory card, it was hundreds.

Not taken by me, it was obvious that most of these had been taken by the Mole. What is more, it seems like 2010 was the year. There were photos of Norway, there were photos from the Tall Ship Races, there were photos from his short stint at RIT. When the download was complete I wandered downstairs to hand him the chip and card reader.

“Found some photos that I think belong to you – Midnight Sun, Tall Ship Parade, that sort of thing”

He had thought they were lost, gone for good. I promised to go through the rest of the cards that have been tucked into the corner of my camera bag.

I wonder if I will find any more to compare with this –

Since this was not a really exciting day (we went out and bought pj’s) I thought it was about time to share pictures of the place. Not exactly all set up or organized pictures since these were taken a few days ago, but still they are pictures.

Exposed brick walls, hard wood floors, a lot of built in storage and, for some reason, a mirror backing on the interior partial wall which encloses off a den space. The Gwen is thrilled at having another dog in the place with her but has not yet figured out why that golden retriever won’t share toys and seems to do exactly the same as her, even dropping things.

Which means that after all that hard work, Gwen has found a comfortable location out of the way, underneath the breakfast bar in which to tuck herself.

Moving on – walking into the place right now you get a lovely expanse of window, wall, polished floors and open space.

The kitchen area is on the left hand wall as you enter, once past the small coat closet and the two utility cupboards.

I didn’t photo the den space, the bathroom or the built in storage along the hall going down the right hand hall toward the sleeping space. Courtesy of some friends (college roommate of George’s, truth be told) we have been sleeping on a double layer full size air bed for the last few days.

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And then I mentioned the bedroom closet?

Some of us are organized, and others less so. At home I have gotten to the point where I try to be very careful about wallet and keys since it annoys me, much less everyone else when leaving the house turns into a large production.

There was a lot of snow today and ice on the roads. Now 19F (about -10C) doesn’t bother me all that much since growing up in Minnesota teaches you about cold weather, preparedness and the value of hats and gloves. We even started the day with a plan. Get it together (have breakfast, get stuff together, get the dog out and get into the car), head to Evanston to pick up my cousin’s son (now, technically he is also a cousin. If I want the clear relationship, I ask Beverley who is an expert on these kinds of things. Never the less, even though he is the son of my first cousin, I think of him as a nephew since he is the same age as my youngest.) before proceeding out to Deerfield to visit my other first cousin’s son.

I have mentioned that our family is small, right? Like I only have two first cousin’s (only one of which has children)?

Anyway, we headed up Lakeshore Drive, went turned right, drove a number of miles. Gertrude behaved herself just fine and got us to where we needed to go.

After a lovely day and evening, she even got us home and directed us to get off I94 at the Taylor Street/Roosevelt exit which puts us within five blocks of where we needed to go.

If my camera battery wasn’t being snarky at the moment, I would show you the 30+cm of scarf I started taken from Radical Change since Ms Soprano doesn’t have much in the way of decent scarves and the wind can be a bit cold here.

Oh, the bit about the pockets? I had been in possession of the second set of apartment keys since the beginning of the week and for whatever reason hadn’t seen them in days. I had taken apart the suitcases, backpacks and purses as well as check counter tops, floors and outerwear. What I had forgotten was the blazer neatly hung in the closet. The one which had bulge in the pocket when I donned it this morning.

It seems to me that my daughter could live her entire life within a mile radius of the apartment. The apartment takes care of the basics – shelter, place to sleep/laundry/shower/study/entertain/lcook/eave the dog during the day.

Columbia College falls within that mile as does the Public Library. Added to that she can get to a Dominick’s (Safeway), Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s and Jewel Osco (same corporate parent as Giant) within easy walk. Multiple Starbucks abound along with any fast food you could want. Then there is Target, multiple movie theaters, parks, museums and sports stadiums. The L is only two blocks away at Roosevelt where she can connect with the Red, Blue and Orange lines.

If you want fancy shops, just head over to State Street (one block west) and walk north. Michigan Avenue is a block east. Same thing – head a few blocks north and you are in the center of everything.

All of this was running through my mind as I was headed back to the city. It seems that accidents and slow downs are all too common. Gertrude, my friendly (?) GPS, directed me off the Kennedy when it looked like more than an hour delay. Heading across multiple streets wasn’t all that bad and following the directions got me back on the I-90 just as the traffic was starting to move.

I have no clue as to why it directed me off at Ohio. In any case I will never do that again. There is a problem with being dropped off in the middle of skyscrapers – you can lose satellite feed. If you don’t know where you are, you don’t know where to go next. Given that all Chicago drivers are insane, stopping was totally and completely out of the question. Without a clue I kept on driving.

Oh – State Street! I know State Street and it only took me three blocks to figure out that I was driving in the wrong direction. After that it was a matter of getting turned around and heading back south. Just about two blocks from 13th and Wabash Gertrude kicks back in and tries to give me directions.

Do you think I listened to her?

Ms Soprano is off at orientation.

I got to spend a fair amount of time at Hertz (O’Hare Airport) turning in the van and picking up a much smaller car. It wasn’t supposed to take very long. Except …
1) they were out of cars, so it was 45 minutes. Ok, I can live with that – I had my iPod and knitting. I also had a box of “stuff” that had been left in the van. Had not planned on leaving anything in the van. So there I sit with a box at my feet surrounded by all these elegantly dressed people with their fancy suitcases. Go figure, I just ignored them.
2) USAA forgot that I was in the US and bounced my credit card. Not a good time, glad I had a back up. Their excuse later was …. they sent me an email to request that I log on to answer their questions.

All of part two I had no clue about until end of the afternoon when I stopped in to some friends in order to get a fixed phone for an 800# call and to access email. Not like all of us always have email.

So, meanwhile, I get through Costco on a debit card (same account as the credit card) without difficulty. Go figure, I can’t.

Stopping by a friends I call USAA and they tell me about their wonderful attempts to thwart fraud on my account. I tell them about the ugliness of standing at the Hertz counter and having my credit card refused. They tell me about sending an email. I ask them why they would think I had email while traveling.

We both take a breath. I once again give them phone numbers, they once again apologize and assure me there should be no problems. Huh.

Heading back to Chicago. Have not heard from the daughter since we parted ways at her orientation. Didn’t put her number in my phone.

So I have just sent her an email with my number and asked her to call …….

The car is unloaded and I wiped out for the evening.

Gwen has more or less adjusted to the new location. She is not thrilled about boxes or being refused a place on the bed. But other than that, she is fine.

The other two of us (Nina and I) are another story – we still have a whole list of things to do and get.

She has orientation in the morning and I need to swap out the van for something a bit more reasonably priced.