ProseKnitic – of Words und Wolle

Remember the word/logic puzzles from when you were a kid?

Example – you have a fox, a goose and a bag of grain. Your goal is to get all three to the other side of the river without anyone eating anyone else.*

What I had was fifteen Audtiobookstand size shipping boxes (20cm x 30cm) and a slightly larger box containing two Liberty Wooden Puzzles. The car is on the street level, the house up on the hill. My choices are simple; open the garage door and haul everything into the elevator or carry the boxes up the sixty stairs.

I looked at the garage door, I looked at the stairs.

I thought of the fox, goose and bag of grain. Carrying the boxes up the stairs in groups of four shouldn’t be all that bad, right? Kind of like the grocery bag and small child relay that many of us have done with infants, shopping and living above the ground level in an apartment building.

(Prop door open – carry sleeping baby in car seat and bag of groceries to do. Run back – emptying out the car as fast as possible, both to not let the child out of your sight and to finish prior to said infant waking and screaming with displeasure.

Haul all of above inside the stair well, then repeat 1/2 flight byt 1/2 flight till you land sweating and exhausted in front of your door, just the time that the darling wakes well rested and hungary. Attempt to distract child till cold and frozen food is put away. Failing that – attempt to feed and store groceries at the same time. At last – give up, lay down with said infant and crash.

Compared to (good grief – that was over 22 years ago!) managing groceries and baby, carrying boxes up 20 steps at a time is a breeze. Much more so than figuring out where to jam the books and audiobooks on the overflowing shelves.

-Holly
Heidelberg, Germany

*there might be shorter ways – but you leave the fox and grain, taking the goose across. You come back. Take the fox across and bring back the goose. Leave the goose and take across the bag of grain. Come back and take the goose across.

Perhaps there are some people (Southerners by stereotype) who are good at figuring out familial relationships between individuals. So that, when introduced, someone might even be able to say “oh, your mother’s sister’s cousin on the “jones” side, isn’t she married to…..? and even understand the relationship.

Me, I understand first degree relatives (parents, sibs, and children) and the rest of the world. That is probably helped by the fact that I have few relatives and my children have even fewer.

Well, that is not completely true; there are also grandparents, cousins, nieces, and nephews. It is that cousin category where all of this gets me completely confused and that is before I even consider the generational issues. (Actually, the linked Wikipedia article is extremely clear.)

What has this to do with deployment? Very little, except that I am in Afghanistan trying to figure out what I want to send Andrew for his birthday. It is scary when I realized that figuring out a present for a teenage young man was easier than describing the relationship.

Background: my mother (84) was an only child. Ends pretty much all discussions of relatives on that side. My father (84) has one sister (younger than 84) and she had two children. You with me so far? I have two first cousins, one of whom has two children. Technically those two children, essentially contemporaries of Ms Maus (my youngest), are first cousins, once removed. I think. In reality, I think of them in the niece and nephew category because of their ages.

Back to the thought of presents. I finally worked out what I wanted to send him and headed for the door. Just in time to feel the building rattle from a nearby impact. Since there was no prior warning of a planned detonation, we all voted for target practice from the hills. The second impact was barely over when the Apaches launched (since they are just over the back fence it caused more window rattling). Watching the chat might just be interesting, but “donning IBA and sheltering in place” leaves me less than thrilled. It might just wind up forcing me to change choices from iTunes to Amazon!

I was going to entertain you with a long involved story about Ms Soprano involving birthdays, airplane trips and all the rest. Last year, she celebrated her 21st birthday on the flight from the US to the UK. This year – I think she is waiting a day and flying on the 19th so that she could celebrate. I might just be wrong – since I am not exactly at home this year.  She continues to do well in her music, lacking any recent photos, I will play responsible parent and not post anything old or humiliating.

So, for your entertainment this day – I will give you the legend of Tuna Bridge.

Back in 2003, Disney Drive was the same long boring bit dividing the main part of camp complete with steep ditches on both sides and few places to cross. As a result, soldiers started wearing paths into the ground next to the ditch. One fine sunny day, a LTC and a CSM were hiking along and started to jump across the ditch just like they had done so many times before. Looking down, they spotted metal sticking out of the side of the ditch. Having recently completed the “IED, watch out for suspicious stuff” course, they became immediately concerned, stopped the pedestrian traffic and reported their finding.

Now picture Disney shut down while waiting for and during the EOD response. Time goes on. EOD responded and dug up ….. an unopened can of Russian Tuna. Not long after when the bridge was constructed, it was named Tuna Bridge.

Tuna Bridge

Sept 1978, a Sunday. Got married.

Am still married.

He is good people; not looking forward to yet another deployment. What he is looking forward to is my being home for good at the end of the time. After this year, we will most likely have all of our off spring out of the house. I will be retired from the military while he still has several years let with his firm

I think I love him enough to sort out the house (which, if you have ever seen our house, is not a small task. Never mind that a huge amount of the stuff might just be my books or fiber supplies).

It might just take a year or two. I might be able to spend time in Switzerland wandering around with the camera and occasionally consulting. I might be able to use up stash. I might read a few books. I might even nag him about weight, exercise and sensibility.

After all, 32 years is hardly anything. I would like 32 more.

This is an update – but first, the background.

I wound up here in the UK in Jan 2008. A rather short notice move because of a domino effect involving a number of other people and their short notice re-assignments.

Ok, I am an Army officer. That means I salute the flag pole and move on with my life. Never mind that it means that most days the family is scattered across four countries.

My moving in assumption was that I would be here for 3-> 3 & 1/2 years to put the job back on a summer cycle. Coincidently, it would also match up with being able to hang up the kevlar and move on to new challenges.

Come last summer, my job magically appears on the “open for bid” list. Checking with the branch people, I remind them that I will not have 12 months remaining prior to retirement (criteria for re-assignment) by the time my son graduates so we had all agreed that I would not move summer 2010.

Well, gee, it seems all bets are off. Since then – like Sept – I have been in various negotiations with different of the powers that be about job choices, various possibilities, and what I want to do if I grown up.

That particular thought took only a few minutes – not ready to grow up yet.

Upshot of the whole mess is that it is now April, I leave the UK sometime the end of August and have no idea where I am going next. As of yesterday, I can officially drop my retirement papers.  Since we do not do “garden leave” it means that I would need to move everything back to Germany then go to Ft Benning en route to Afghanistan for six months.

The other option looks like it might be to extend for a couple of years, move to Monterey, drop off my stuff, go to Ft Benning en route to Afghanistan (see above) and return to work there for a couple of years.

Hummmm – no job and seeing the DH on the rare days he is in town? Job where I can toss a couple of offspring in University at in-state tuition and enjoy the California coast?

Decisions, decisions….

It was a Saturday, 17 years ago, when Ms Maus agreed to come into the world. A bit of attitude then which has altered over the years to her own bit of humor and fun. Contributing to the challenges of all (including the bother who is 2 years and one day older).

Knitting is fun, knitting is great. Unlike life,  Knitting gives you do-overs.

About five of them so far today. Same project, third yarn, second set of needles. Not counting a change on the way I am doing the edges.

Then, I took a good look at my yarn and changed pattern which was perfectly fine since the stitch count a few rows in matched a couple of other lovely choices in, Wrapped in Comfort.  You know Alison, right?  SpinDyeKnit Alison?

Any way – now headed to BigFoot

a few rows, more than a few stitches

Video

Borrowed Season 1 of Monk from the library.

Meanwhile

The Mole is back at school in Rochester for the duration of the week and all of next while I am out of country. He is not thrilled, but looks to have it under control for the moment. Meanwhile, he has started to study US History and US Government on his own since the GED exam is one option out of the current stalemate. If anyone knows what their local High School is specifically using for 11-12th Grade textbooks, I would really appreciate recommendations.

I counted it up: grades 1-2 in Wuerzburg, 3-4 in Muenchen, 5 (three schools in Heidelberg with the last also being the location for grades 6-8). 9-10 in Stuttgart. 11 in DSL with a switch to Rochester mid year, last.

Makes it 8 schools for 13 years of education (yes, it adds up. grade 5 x 2). Not exactly continuity of education.

Week at a time, I guess.

Ms Soprano went to 7 different schools and Ms Maus only 5.

Having never been a teen aged boy, I have absolutely no clue what goes on in their heads.  Besides the gender issue, my adolescence was worlds and distance from his.

I can tell you that the Mole is brilliant; other people tell me that he is bright, polite, well spoken and charming to have around. He goes out of his way to help others; I wish he would help himself a bit more.

All the moves we have made due to jobs over the years have not been kind to him. Unlike the social butterflyness of the girls, he takes longer to fit in, find friends and his place in that difficult location called a peer group.

This is his last year of secondary school and he is not a happy camper. Neither of us have a good clue as to what is next on his horizon. He tells me that he wants medicine - Paediatrics in specific.  Switching from European schools systems’ of educating to the US multiple choice test is difficult at best and extremely challenging.

As a parent, I think we always want the best for our children. Unfortunately, it is not possible to take away all the bumps and bruises of growing and learning. That is probably as it should. But on many days communications can be a real challenge.

Should I just settle for a moderately clean room?

On this, the last night of Hanukkah which just happens to fall on the 18th this year,

all alight

I found food for thought provided in dialog about the difference between spirituality and religion. Although this particular discussion is Judaic in its grounding, I think it may well resonate in several other faiths. It hinges around what is for self and what is for others: self-interest vs obligation. See what you think.

Probably more importantly Ms Soprano

(lifted from her blog)

turns 21 today. A milestone she celebrated at school last night (along with a sleep in this morning). If you feel like adding greeting to her inbox – you can find her at ninadoyneATt-onlineDOTde. She might not have a clue as to who you are, but she does have a good sense of humor. I get to rescue her from Heathrow on Sunday morning, provide BA does not go on strike or the airport close.

The Mole is home from school. Kent received the brunt of the latest UK Snow storm. The boarding school sent them all out the door three hours early to make sure that they were on their way before the trains stopped running. My phone had completely gone on the fritz, so we were unable to reach each other. As a competent soon to be adult, he managed to get himself home from the train station. Being a guy, he doesn’t seem to need all that much.

ice, trees

and lightly coated

Minimal knitting progress today, but more planned this evening on the baby cardigan. Yet another day has passed without the little Ms putting in her appearance so it leaves me a bit closer to being finished. Cat, I think does have the right of it. New little ones need their hind-paws as well as their heads kept warm. I have also been admiring the lovely baby things just knit by Lankakomero – see those socks at the end of the post? All those bright Finnish knitters can’t be wrong. Of course, since my ability to figure out a Finnish pattern is almost non-existent, I am grateful for all the wonderful photos. I can figure out the pattern from the photos…

The realities of age 59:

I am now less than 365 days from 60. entering 59 in the treadmill means that it reports my heart rate as elevated a couple of beats lower than it did the day before. And of course, I have my grey hair frosting the top of my brown.

Why is it that the grey seems to hang on tightly and it is the brown stuff that seems to fall out?

Wait, that is not completely true. My hair is half-way down my back and some of the silver has certainly made it that far. There are long grey hairs on my brush along with the brown. It just seems that all the brown that falls out is being replaced with grey.

Should not complain, I think my mother was completely gray by the time she was 40. But then, I am not sure what hair color she really had since artificial color was her friend as far back as I can remember. I am still convinced that dyeing ones hair can not be good for the roots. Can’t convince any of my off-spring that their natural hair color is fine, but I keep on trying. On the other hand, my DH has gone grey for years and he has just left it alone.

Means that we can both claim the off-spring as the source of our grey locks. Never mind that he is following a familial pattern or that the onset of grey is more likely to result from age and only related to the younger crew because we happened to be older when they were born. You get the idea.

Anyway, please remind me of all of this next year if I am not so positive on turning 60.

Meanwhile, I can do puzzles and knit just like someone in their 20s, or 80s. I can continue to avoid housework and take a hike (weather permitting) whenever I want. The Faery Ring has both sleeves and only one inch to go on the hood. Then it will be only the front band and closures to go.

10 Sept 2009, Wednesday

In 1978, 31 years ago, the 10th of Sept fell on a hot Sept Sunday. Our friend Charlie was staying with us, being a general good guy and helping insure that the house was fit for a wedding reception that afternoon. The previous evening had seen a house full for dinner (with help from my Aunt Ruth).

At 1300, George and I walked together into the Beit Am at Mt Zion by Rabbi Leigh Lerner (who is now in Montreal – go figure) and walked out married 15 minutes later (we signed all the paperwork ahead of time). Arriving late for the ceremony meant that there were more than a few people who missed the whole thing.

We headed back to our house for an extremely simple reception.

1978 was a much different time. Each member of a couple keeping their own name was a rather new legal ability. (Fill in the bottom of the marriage certificate with “Groom’s name after marriage” and “Wife’s name after marriage”).

We had just purchased a house, I had finished an FP residency and was just starting out in private practice (The Victoria Clinic, named for the street). George was working for legal services. There were three couples who I viewed as our closest friends. The two couples who were not married at the time did so within the next couple of years; all three couples are still intact these 30+ years later inspite of children, job challenges and the normal aging process.

In the last 31 years, we have lived in more than a few houses and, collectively, five countries (US, Germany, Kuwait, Switzerland, UK). Our eldest is married, the next is studying in the US, our son is studying hard for his A levels this coming spring and the youngest is facing her last two years in preperation for her Abituer exams in spring 2011.

We have made it thus far, inspite the challenges of job separations along with the stresses of daily living. It once again is a year when we will not be together on either of our birthday’s or our anniversary. We email often, we talk daily.

Now, if we could agree on where we want to live when we retire (grin) …….

-Holly
Camberley, Surrey

Bites the dust was what I was intending. I have only 22 ridges to go on the second sleeve. Problem is that, for whatever reason, the decreases on this one are not matching the first. I have a choice – frog – or sew the sleeve smaller when I put it together.

The second was my original intention, but it wouldn’t feel as comfortable so a frogging I will go, back to almost the first pattern set on the sleeve. Blech!

Housekeeping instead. Ms Soprano’s pix doesn’t embiggen (I stole it from her avatar which is 32×32). If you want to see a variety of pictures, then trip over to her blog (which I just discovered this morning. Parents are always the last to know…..  And she actually does have a black hat, although she is currently wearing it without a hat band).

I spent a short time (actually several hours off and on) and managed to update WordPress and rescued part of the sidebar. The rest is down at the bottom. Not where I would want it out of choice, but at this point I am amazed to have anything at all.

Once I get the bread crumbs and Flickr under control I think I will just leave things alone for a while.

In the midst of all of this I finally beat my new UK military account into submission, helped a couple of people, got hooked into two official events this week and added two more journeys to Heathrow to the todo list.

Video

Finally got to Season 3 of the new Dr Who. All I can say is the new side kick is a real relief after the Blond (Rose) and traffic jams extend into infinity.