Christmas at Our House

Dec. 23 -- I had to run out for one last gift. It's a 6 mile ride out on Route 6 to get home and as I drove up the last big hill the music was stunning. Playing on the radio was “Hark, the herald angels sing!” with the full orchestra of the Royal Philharmonic & the full choir filling my vehicle completely. As the music came to a crescendo, I got to the top of the hill and was able to look out on miles and miles of scenery; wintery blue, the tops of the trees all white, and all very still. It was inspiring, to say the least. And, not coincidental.

As I drove along Springbrook Rd. the curves and dips in the road seemed particularly apropos to our lives. Up and down, and straight-forward, only to go back again, seemingly repeating what we got through yesterday. So, as I drove down my own snow-covered road, little wider than a driveway, it hit me.

Come, come with me. Into my house, and I will show you Christmas at our house! We will walk arm in arm through the rooms, and feel the warmth and the significance.

But, first, it's out of the car and up six steps to step up into the foyer. Through the front door be-wreathed on both sides. The first thing you notice is the warmth. So cold outside, so warm in here! The kitchen is straight ahead and to the right is the living room. To get there we go up six more steps to the upper floor.

My main Christmas tree sits in this room. Green, tall,bejeweled with all my precious ornaments from years past; some my kids made when in nursery school! Others we picked up on our sojourns to Peddlers Village in Lahaska. The lights are all white and the tinsel glistens so beautifully, especially when day melts into evening and reflections are seen in the wide front windows. Tables hold my Christmas village, the one I've painted and adorned over the years; little primitive snowmen, colored lights, regal glass candles and a glass vase filled with red ornaments trailing red garland which wends its way all around the table are here. Another table is where little ornaments stand; Santa &Mrs Santa waiting to string their popcorn garland, Snoopy decked out in hat & scarf, a Gooseberry Patch marshmallow man holding his hat as he sleds down the tablecloth, and dalmatian snowglobes placed in-between a little double-decker bus and a tiny red book all about Christmas! Across from this is my gold nativity; truly sublime when lit at night and it holds a place of prominence here, for this is the very reason for the Season.

Next to the hutch in the kitchen sits a round table with another Victorian lighted house upon it; in the center of the hutch is my Advent calendar. It's very old, for I can remember opening the windows on it when I was small. It used to have a long poem, each stanza a clue to where the window to be opened on that day was, but it is long gone. Still, the calendar, made in Western Germany is a treasure. I still open its windows faithfully every December.

In the front living room windows, the kitchen windows, and even in the bathroom window, I have pseudo-stained-glass fixtures for Christmas; pretty and colorful when the sun hits them. We walk down the hall from the kitchen to the front corner bedroom, which is my little sitting room. Here I have my Victorian tree; about 5 ft. tall on its own little table, and covered in pretty handmade ornaments and topped with a soft pink sequined ribbon. Snowmen, fluted fans, Old World-type bulbs, stockings, even dalmatians decorate this tree. The lights are soft, and there is a string of bubble lights which “bubble” quietly once the lights have been on for awhile. Under the tree are 3 gifts, pretty boxes all wrapped up as part of the decoration. In this room there is a candle in the front window also; and to sit here of a evening, for a spell, is pure delight. Heading back down the hall and down the stairs, covered in green holly & ivy and we descend to the family room down below. On one bookcase I have all the “Rudolph” decorations; those I received years ago, month after month, and based on the cute TV show. Other craft fair treasures adorn the large bookcase, and a feather tree all in white, complete with angel ornaments, and silver bead garland, sits on the other green bookcase.

Next to the TV is the large coffee table, and here is my new white tree, aglow with soft white lights, and sparkly blue ornaments. All blue. So striking against the pure white of the soft branches. It, too, stands about 4 ft. high and beneath I have a blue angel, a blue poinsettia plant, and blue garland all around the soft white tree blanket. My skating pond reposes here, too and on the shelf behind is my mirrored window frame with the red candle shining through it. Alongside the window frame are my kissing bears, who have been kissing since before Thanksgiving. On the other side is one of my hand-made snowmen sitting next to a seated reindeer. The window frame was a craft item from Toms River from many years ago. As are the sparkly pine cones, and so many other little ornaments and Christmas one-of-a-kinds all through my house. And nearer to one window sits my tealighted “leg lamp”; you know the one from the movie, AChristmas Story. And, in one corner of the room sits my 4-ft snowman, not wanting to miss out on any of what's going on down here.

I'm hoping in the coming years that Christmas will begin to mean Christmas to all of us again. No more rushing to the malls, no more last-minute nonsense gift-buying. Make your own gifts and give them as presents from you. The time that you spend creating them will only open up to you more ideas, so many more that you'll find you won't have time to do them all!

And remember that when you keep Christ in Christmas,you will always do the right things. As we go through theyears, we should be gaining wisdom; enough to understand that Christmas is when Jesus was born, and during the quiet, still nights of Advent, we get the opportunity to prepare our own hearts for Jesus, for his Holy Spirit, to enter there, and remain there, all year long.

So, thank you for coming home with me, and nothing suffices quite like a hot cup of tea and some homemade chocolate-covered cherry cookies, or iced butter cookies. I'll put the kettle on. As we sit down at my kitchen table, replete with red placemats, some knitted by me, and look around at all the abundance, we should keep one thing in mind.

God's gift of Himself to us is a present we will always be unwrapping.

Merry Christmas!

Brown November

Already! Here in eastern PA, all the leaves are brown (ala the Mama's & Papa's, for those of you who remember . . . ) and completely cover the ground, so it makes for great fun when walking Piper around the yard to stay out of rock holes that you can't see now. Summer has come down, literally.

Been doing a LOT of knitting; it keeps my mind off of all the rest. (For all the rest, see my MySpace blogs). I have tons of stuff to give for Christmas, and it is CHRISTMAS after all, not the "holiday"; let's get it right for crying out loud! No one gives gifts and puts up all the decorations and tree, for any other "holiday". Stand UP for what you believe and don't be afraid to say so!

I just started a little sweater for Bella, my 8-month-old niece. Then, there is a little afghan for my daughter's friends daughter, Jordan. It still needs lots of finishing touches, but it's done.

Here are two little bags for my older nieces Melanie and Samantha. Any fun fur or metallic yarn looks terrific with plain-ol' yarn, and everyone just loves the look. Unless you have a bottomless pocketbook, (and these days, who does) specialty yarns can be SO expensive! $27 a skein is not what I normally buy; especially if the pattern calls for 5 or 6 skeins, oh my!

While I play on my computer, here's Piper hanging around!

Silly dog, she is just so funny, every day! She's a smooth fox terrier and we never had a terrier before. What a cute face she has, and I get such a kick out of how she sidles down the hall sideways when she's playing with one of her 20+ toys. She literally flies up on the couch with ease; absolute magic. If you are looking for a dog or cat, look no further than your local shelters; she was there, waiting for us!

So, I think I'll do like Piper, and r-e-l-a-x! So much has been going on, and my brain needs a rest! And I keep reminding myself, that nothing is impossible with God; He has everything under control.

Bright & Early

8/20/08 - I remember "Bright & Early" with Gregg Whiteside. How I miss him still. He was the early morning voice on WQXR, for years and years in NYC, on the classical radio station there. Then, suddenly, one day in August, 5 years ago, they dumped him. Like so much garbage along the roadside. Mr. Whiteside. Done. He was too conservative for a radio station owned by the NY Times after all. He said things, spoke his mind, and wasn't afraid to do so. Truth cuts deep.

So, I've found out.

Beyond those negativities, this Wednesday is beyond beautiful. So clear, the sky so deep blue, the trees so green against their indigo backdrop, the air so cool and dry, which makes for a bright, shiny day indeed! Overnight it was so quiet outside, especially when the katydids and the crickets cease their night conversations, I swear, you could hear a pin drop.

When cars drive up and down the road, the only way you know that it happens, is when you see the dust in the air; kicked up by tires long gone. Ferns are still long and green, and there is one out next to the shed, which waves to me all day long. It really does wave, the little, top-heavy precipiece of it, waves like a hand, when the entire fern sways to and fro. Piper and I head out to the mailbox every afternoon and usually meet no one. No car, no person, no bear. Oh, he's been in these parts, lately, rubbing his big, black back on the telephone pole near our house, and skulking up the driveway, only to look back at my barking puppy with a face full of boredom.

Speed limit 15 mph. So it says, at the entrance to my road. Little more than a gravel driveway, really. Surrounded by forsythia / honeysuckle / brambles / trees right down to the end.

This has been my summer of solitude. Alone during the week, without a car, feeling each day like a little more of my luck has run out. But, I have to turn those negative thoughts around! They do me no good, and I've never been the sort to be so down and out. But, God almighty, this has been the worst year of my life! And it ain't over yet.

9/3/08
A bright and beautiful Wedndesday, warm! I'll take these end of summer idylls; they will go fast and leave cold and dark in their wake. Even now, the sun slanting at angles in the sky, leaves us too soon; by 8:00 it is dark. Then the soft lamps lit all around the house will have to do. Lit, so we don't have to turn around and wonder who is there. No one.

For those who don't know, for those who can remember, there were amusement parks years and years ago, so many of which no longer exist. Olympic Park in Irvington NJ was one I remember well. Rides such as Tilt-a-Whirl, the Bug, Roller Coaster, a funhouse ride, and a funhouse walk-through. The Scrambler, the Whip, and the Glass House. A house of mirrors. I never ventured in for fear, in my youth, of never venturing out. Silly, I know, yet, not so irrational. But, I remember all the rest who were wandering within; looking for the open side, some journeys just begun, some journeys judging by where they were standing looked to be almost finished, or still with much wandering to do.

So much like life. We are here, and tomorrow we will have stepped into another mirrored space. Mirrors representing memory. In fact, where we are today, is because we stepped into this particular space from another, yesterday. Each cubicle looking the same, yet taking us on our journey; either throwing us forward or making us go back and repeat something we've already done. As we go, we look for the exit, for the open door, for the way out. Stuck in the chaos of life, the way out often is gone, or we don't recognize it; it looks to us just like another glass panel. We think that's the way, yet walk into a "wall" and can go no further. So, we turn and search in another place. Moving ever so slowly, hoping we are going in the right direction! Feeling panicky as our journey takes us away from what we perceive to be the end, the completion we had in
mind, and wanting with staunch determinism to find our way out!

As we pass through each little glass space, it's like passing through the places in our lives. First here, then there, then somewhere else. Most of us have traveled a long way from whence we began. Most of us have multiple spaces which we can look back on, some even, staring us right in the face; yet, we pass beyond - step further away because that is the way to go.

Or so we think. I don't know if it's safer to stay put or to move. Some days will do that to you. But, at least, in my house of mirrors, I can always look in the glass and see what has been, and see who I was, and see who I am today. And know, without a regret in the world, that here, in the midst of light and reflection, that it is the right place to be.

Even as the ferns are dying.

Watch for some new projects I will post in the days to come. The days which melt into a dusky

shadow by 7 o'clock or so; where twilight enters and beckons us to light our lamps and go

within. It's the best place to be.

Something Else.........and Other Things

Funny, how life is. I have been looking for a job for the longest time. Quite frankly, I thought to myself, if I look at one more resume or fax number I will scream! It became just a summary waste of time; for there must be hundreds of people looking for these same jobs, and what chance have I?


It's not good, or even nice, to be so negative, but, you must understand. I am over the age of 50. That, in these greening United States of America, is past it. Over the hill. Old. No longer wanted. Don't call us, we'll call you. Don't bother. Goodbye. Good luck in your future endeavors.


I am not old. I am as alive as you. I read voraciously daily, use the Internet for everything under the sun, exercise, eat right, and watch Jay Leno at 11:30 for a good laugh at the end of my day. I love music, not the Lawrence Welk type of music either; sorry all you Lawrence fans, he just never hit the spot for me. Heard a little Sweet lately, or Neil Diamond or Jeff Brown?


In between all the madness, I love to knit. It is my passion as is writing. I can't live without it. It is something I put time aside for every day because I love to knit!


As you can see!






This is the christening blanket I knitted for Isabella, my new little niece. Sunday she will be baptised and my husband and I are her godparents. That is the best part about being in families. Giving back for all the special times we share together; taking care of those we know best. There really is nothing else in the world like it. There isn't supposed to be. It is what we were made for.








Here is the cat's paw design and the edging, close-up. I used a simple crochet cotton yarn, bedspread weight. Here is the pattern:


Christening Blanket
Cotton Yarn bedspread weightSize 4 or 5 needles.

Cat's Paw



Multiple of 16 sts + 9
Row 1 and all odd rows: Purl.
Row 2: K10, *K2tog, yo, k1, yo, ssk,, k11; rep from *, end K10.
Row 4: K9, *k2tog, yo, k3, yo, ssk, k9: rep to end.
Row 6: K10, *yo, ssk, yo, k3tog, yo, k11; rep from * end k10.
Row 8: K11, * yo, sl 1, k2tog, psso, yo, k13; rep from * to end k11.
Row 10: K2, * k2tog, yo, k1, yo, ssk, k11; rep from * to end k2.
Row 12: K1, *k2tog, yo, k3, yo, ssk, k9; rep from * to end k1.
Row 14: K2, *yo, ssk, yo, k3tog, yo, k11; rep from * to end k2.
Row 16: K3, *yo, sl 1, k2tog, psso, yo, k13; rep from * * to end k3.



Repeat rows for desired length.Block panel.


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End Panels (make 2)Leaf Point Apron Lace


(taken from "Lace From the Attic" by Nancie Wiseman)

CO 31 sts.
Row 1: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, [k1, yo, k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, yo], 2 times, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo twice, k2tog, k1, yo, k2tog -- 32 sts.
Row 2: K5, p1, k5, p7, k1, p7, k6.
Row 3: Sl 1, k2, yo, ktog, k1, yo, k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, p1, k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k7 -- 30 sts.
Row 4: K11, p6, k1, p6, k6.
Row 5: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, [k1, yo] 2 times, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, p1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog,, yo, k1, yo, k2tog, k1, [yo twice, k2tog] 2 times, yo, k2tog -- 32 sts.
Row 6: K4, p1, k2, p1, k5, p6, k1, p6, k6.
Row 7: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo, k3, yo, k3tog, p1, k3tog, yo, k3, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k9.
Row 8: K13, p6, k1, p6, k6.
Row 9: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo, k5, yo, k3tog, yo, k5, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, [yo twice, k2tog] 3 times, yo, k2tog -- 37 sts.
Row 10: K4, [p1, k2] 2 times, p1, k5, p7, k1, p7, k6.
Row 11: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, [k1, yo, k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, yo] 2 times, k2, yo, k2tog, k12.
Row 12: K16, p7, k1, p7, k6.
Row 13: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo, k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, p1 , k1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, k1, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo twice, k3tog, [yo twice, k2tog] 3 times, yo, k2tog -- 38 sts.
Row 14: K4, [p1, k2,] 3 times, p1, k5, p6, k1, p6, k6.
Row 15: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, [k1, yo] 2 times, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, p1, k2tog, k1 tbl, k2tog, yo, k1, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k15.
Row 16 and 18: K19, p6, k1, p6, k6.
Row 17: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo, k3, yo, k3tog, p1, k3tog, yo, k3, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, [yo, k2tog] 7 times.
Row 19: Sl 1, k2, yo, k2tog, k1, yo, k5, yo, k3tog, yo, k5, yo, k2, yo, k2tog, k15 -- 40 sts.
Row 20: BO 9 sts, k9, p7, k1, p7, k6 -- 31 sts.


Repeat Rows to match length of center panel.Block end panels.Sew end panels to center panel, right sides together.


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Little by little, it will come together. Just like the Beatles said.

We Have the Stars...................................

I just adore the closing line to the movie, "Now, Voyager". Taking the cigarette from his mouth along with his own, Jerry gently offers it to Charlotte. Quietly, they both stand there before the open french doors, with curtains softly blowing, and the night sky just beyond them. Charlotte, her own woman at last, has Jerry's daughter Tina to love, but Jerry asks, "and will you be happy, Charlotte?" Looking heaven-ward Charlotte speaks for both of them when she says, "Oh Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars."


And so it was for me on any sultry summer night last year, when with Chels in hand I would wander up to the gravel road in front of our house and in the dark, look up into the heavens. And wonder. And be wondrous. Of all I had. Of all I am. Of all I still so much want in this life.


It's been a long, hard 8 months since those days, but they will come again. Of that fact I have no doubt! It's true, don't you know, that you will walk through fire now and then; so better be prepared for it. With faith, you will make it through. I can't say what it would be without faith; I've never tried it, and I never will.


Yet, this time, when I walk up the driveway to the gravel road in front of our house and look up into the dark, Chels won't be by my side. For late in March, she died suddenly; in no pain,with no warning, just what we think was a heart-attack or seizure, and she was gone. Just like that. For all time.


She was a 12-year old dalmatian. She was and will remain, the love of our lives, our girlie-girlie, our pupper, our baby-girl. How many silly little names we had for her; and she loved every one!





I remember the day in 1995 when we went to O'Neill's Kennels in West Windsor, NJ and saw an entire bin of dalmatians, just in from the breeder. Although she was not "purebred", Chels was beyond perfect for us. She was hanging out in the back with her little head resting on a brother or sister; I could see those three black dots on the right side of her nose as clear as day.
By the time she was 4-months old, she was housebroken; I never knew a smarter dog in all my life! She could be stubborn in true dalmatian fashion; but I swear she understood English better than most people I know.

So many things she loved to do. Simple things; lovable things. Shouldn't that be telling all of us something? Now, I'm not advocating riding in a car with our heads out the window, but it was sheer heaven to her! As well as those long walks around the lake, and most nights, around the neighborhood, after dark.

There was cuddling on the couch, jumping full-speed ahead onto our laziboys; coming at you from all different angles, all with the same intent in mind, to land in your lap and kiss your face!
She just loved getting her ears rubbed and when it rained hard, she couldn't wait to get toweled off; especially around her head. It must have felt so good! When it was very cold, she would snuggle on the middle cushion of our couch, sleeping contentedly under her blue afghan. When she had settled down, whether there or on the bed, she would sigh deeply, and you knew, all was right with Chelsea's world. Tongue flicking in and out, she would lull herself to sleep, to dream, kicking and barking as she slept.

We took her everywhere we could. Little trips to town or the bank; trips down to see our kids, or relatives in NY or NJ or just anywhere at all. She loved the car!

There were times when her left ear would flap up at the middle crease; it was a funny sight indeed. I tried to capture it in pictures but they could never do the real thing justice. And she would leave it that way for awhile, as if she knew we were amused by this, and allowed us our fun. Then with a typical dalmatian shake of the head, it would be gone!

She loved chicken mixed in with her food; those Alpo sticks, which she would eat every morning and pigs ears! Oh boy, pigs ears! No dog loved them more. She loved watching TV. Especially other dogs in the dog shows. When she was very young, she would sit with you in the chair and watch these dogs taking their turns in the arena; hopping and bopping all around. Then, she couldn't take it anymore and would fly off the seat and charge to the tv screen, looking for this dog, for after all, he had to be there somewhere! Over and over again, year after year, and it was always so funny!

As the years went by, Chels tempered so many disappointments. She survived Cindy and Smokey, our two kitties, who grew old and died in their times. She was always a healthy specimen of a dog; always went to the vet yearly, and was almost always never sick.
She could stalk squirrels in the backyard; in fact, one of them used to wait for her on the fence near the back door and dare her to catch him. Stupid squirrel! There were times she came close! Then she would charge around the yard, with the biggest stick she could find. You could fling it from one side of the yard to the other and she would just keep going.

She was very afraid of fireworks and thunderstorms. And no amount of talking soothingly to her would help. But, she loved to walk along the beach at Lake Carasaljo, tripping happily through the water. She loved water! Had some kind of fascination with it, especially if it was running or in a waterfall configuration.

Then there were all her toys. Her stuffed dalmatians and the other decorative ones. There was her squirrel and little pink pig, and Marty's bunny, which my mom had given her after Marty died. And, last, but not least, there was Squeak. Just a little stuffed dog-head, but almost akin to her puppy. She loved Squeak!! We took it, along with her blanket, any time we went visiting. She had her fancy bed, too, from L.L. Bean, with her name on it and everything!





One month ago on March 26, it was Wednesday and I was working in a job that I thought would become full time. Bob was working and finally, I thought, we can get our heads above water, can have some extra money, can begin to lift out of this mire, which we have been in for too long now. Chels seemed tired that morning; she had not eaten and was laying on her bed when I left for work, but when I came home for lunch she was ok. She was out in the back and didn't know I was home yet; I watched her lumber up the deck steps, slowly, bringing her little back feet up almost together as she had learned to do in her old age. She looked out the railing slats into the backyard for a long time, I remember, and then headed to the back door when she spotted me there. Her face changed, and if a dog can smile, she was smiling! She had 2 hotdogs for lunch and then shared my beef stew, right off the fork, when I ate. I kissed her on her head when I left and told her I would see her after work. I left her there looking at me in the kitchen and she was fine.
One hour later she was gone.

It's taken me all this time to just say that. Happiness is fleeting; Charlotte Vale knew that. Take what you have, immerse in it, let it be absorbed into your being, because one day, it will all be just a memory.









Now, when I look at the stars, my Chels will be looking back at me. And she will be smiling, just like she always did; and I will smile back. And the stars will know.

Late February Musings.................

So, in between looking for work, I have extra time to write and knit. And also to clean cat-boxes, and floors and bathrooms, and dishes, but that's another story; one which we all know about.

Don't you just love it when you go for an interview and "they" never get back to you, ever again? I think, and as the wonderful Mrs. Slocum always said, "and I am unanimous in this", it should be Federal law to reply to all job-seekers who you have interviewed with. It's stressful enough trying to figure out what half these dim-wits are looking for anyway, in the area of their job descriptions, and once I've made the colossal effort of expending my precious time, and even more precious gasoline to go and see them, why, I believe, that's the very least they should be required to do.

Just let me know, one way or the other. Do I have the job or did you give it to someone else? Someone, most likely, most unlikely to fit the bill. But, they are probably more of the age the company is looking for. It's all about image, isn't it? Never mind, the organizational and business skills, I bring to the table. Usually the one hired is hot off of the set of the "Jaywalk All Stars"! That bunch doesn't even know that not only is the Panama Canal in Panama, but there really is a country by that name! As opposed to Suez! Lately, I've yet to see a diplomat from Suez roaming around in Manhattan. Or maybe I'm just not looking in the right places.

Rather than be at the mercy of any of them, you know, those employer types, I just keep plugging away with my knitting projects, and always looking for more. If I had a thousand years left to live, I might just finish everything I want to make! I'm only hoping that the next life looks something like a Barnes & Noble, complete with a tearoom and a cozy fireside corner, all for us enthusiasts called the "knitting-obsessed!" Now that's heaven.

So, in addition to my griping, which is completely deserved and understandable, here is a pretty, pretty scarf!

Now, doesn't this just make your heart sing! I knit this in Rowan Lurex yarn, and the color says pewter, but looks definitely silver. Buy 4 balls, 95mm/25g. And the long strings of fringe just make it look absolutely Art-Deco. (There's another term those new hires never heard of either! I'm not explaining it to them.) Use size 10 needles and co 56 sts.

Knit 1 row, then purl 1 row.
Row 1: K1, *K1, (k2tog) 3x's, (yo, k1) 5x's, yo, (k2tog) 3x's, rep from * to end, k1.
Row 2: K1, p to last st, k1.
Rows 3-5: Knit.
Row 6: K1, p to last st, k1.

Rep until scarf is about 60" then fringe. Cut 112 sections of yarn 12" long for fringe, and do this first! So, as not to run out. It's just good sense; just like reading an entire pattern is good sense, when looking to knit it. This way you know what to expect as you go, because you've seen it all before. Same goes for recipes. Never cook something new until you've read thru the recipe first. Then you won't be surprised by the goat cheese ingredient that you neglected to purchase, and now all the stores are closed.

But, to get back to my scarf. It is so easy to knit, and will look quite classy once you drape it around your neck when done. Wear something black with it, and you can't lose! Then just stand still and wait for compliments.

New Beginnings and 2008

2008. How did that happen? Seems like the Christmas holidays just flew by and winter, so far, has not been too bad. Temps in the 50's and just rain.

In between, we've just been adjusting to life in New Jersey again. Life, where you have to look twice at every corner, for a car is sure to be there. Runners, walkers, and wanderers seem to be at every corner and bend in the road. Never a parking spot near to the store entrance, and endless backups on the busy roads. Nothing changes in NJ. Only the tolls go higher and taxes never come down, but that's another conversation.

Just trying to finish up some projects which I've left lanquishing for far too long. A couple of furry scarfs to go to my favorite little charity in Montana and a pretty purple wrap which I plan on giving to a friend when she visits me in 2 weeks from Germany. Bremen, Germany. She's never been to the states before, and I've never been to Germany before, but this year will change all that! She's coming here this month, and before December comes and goes, I'll be overseas, too.

Once my purple masterpiece is finished, I'll post it here, so keep a lookout!

One end-of-year project that I did finish, I call the Astrid scarf. Named for another friend in Germany! See what happens when you all find each other, all in the name of good rock music?! Astrid was so helpful in getting me an autograph from one of my favorite UK singers, who sings in Germany too, that I just had to knit her something special! And here it is!

The Astrid Scarf
Patons “Brilliant” Yarn
Gold Glow – 2 skeins
Black Dazzle – 2 skeins
Size 9 needles.
Cable needle

With black, cast on 46 sts
Row 1 – and all odd numbered rows – (WS) K1, p2, k2, *p1, k2, p2, k2, p1, k2, p2, k2;
repeat from * , end last rep k1.
Rows, 2, 6 and 10 - P1, k2, p2, * k1, p2, k2, p2, k1, p2, k2, p2, repeat from * to end,
end last rep p1.
Rows 4 and 8 - P1, skip 1 st, k next st and keep on needle, k the skipped st, drop both sts from
left needle- a 2 st twist – p2, *k1, p2, k2, p2, k1, p2, twist 2 sts as before, p2; rep from * to end,
last rep p1.
Row 12 – P1, twist 2, p2, * sl next 4 sts to cable hook, hold at back, k1, p2, k1, then k1, p2, k1 from cable needle – a cable twist, p2; rep from *, end last rep p1.
Repeat these 12 rows 5 x's more, change to gold yarn.
Purl one row.
Rows 13 and 21 – (RS) Purl.
Rows 14 and 22 – Knit.
Rows 15, 17 and 19 – K3, * with yarn at back, sl 2 sts as to p, k4; rep from *, end last rep k3.
Rows 16, 18 and 20 - P3, * with yarn at front, sl 2 sts as to p, p4; rep from *, end last rep p3.
Rows 23, 25 and 27 – K1, * with yarn at back, sl 1, k4, sl 1; rep from *, end k1.
Rows 24 and 26 - P1, * with yarn at front, sl 1, p4, sl 1; rep from *, end p1.
Row 28 – Same as row 24.
Repeat rows 13 thru 28 5 x's more, change to black yarn.
Repeat pattern to desired length. Bind off all stitches.
*************************************

So easy to knit, and it came out so nice and looks very elegant!

So, in between the raindrops and maybe snowflakes, as we go, I have a lot of knitting to do!

From Me to You

I always loved that Beatles tune, "From Me to You," from way way back; simple rock'n roll and always about love. That's why I love knitting.


Because it too, is about love. About giving it the best you have, and knitting something up which is just spectacular! Knit my English Scarf, and you'll know what I mean.



I knit this in electric blue, Patons Astra, 2 to 3 skeins, depending on how long you like it.
Size 8 needles and a cable needle, and the finished size is about 60" long. This time I didn't fringe as
my scarf was for a man. (Just my preference.)

Cast on 42 stitches.

Row 1 (WS) K2, P2, K2, P6, K2, P2, K2, P6, K2, P2, K2, P6, K2, P2, K2.
Row 2 (RS) K4, P2, K6, P2, K2, P2, K6, P2, K2, P2, K6, P2, K4.
Row 3 repeat row 1.
Row 4 repeat row 2.
Row 5 repeat row 1.
Row 6 repeat row 2.
Row 7 repeat row 1.
Row 8 (RS) K4, P2, C6F, P2, K2, P2, C6F, P2, K2, P2, C6F, P2, K4.

Repeat these 8 rows to desired length, ending on row 7. Bind off.

C6F = Slip 3 sts onto a cable needle and hold to front of work, K3, then K the 3 sts. off cable needle.

And just to let you know how the world goes round, and I found this very interesting also, pretty neat too, (!) my friend lives in the UK but was in Germany for a concert gig, so I mailed my scarf to Germany from the USA along with a card which had a French sentiment on the cover and was advertised as "American Greetings" on the back. So, it just goes to show you, you never quite know where or who you might be knitting for as the years go by!!

Enjoy, and you have plenty of time until Christmas to knit at least, oh, a dozen or so for family & friends!!

Late Summer Musings

Summer takes a funny turn after Labor Day. Oh, it's summer still; yet feeling as if it's slowly slipping away.
That full, lush green of high summer has passed by, and now we are left with a slower growing season. Ferns
are dying, red is the new leaf color peeking through the trees, and darkness covers my front yard by 8:00 p.m.

School begins anew, football takes off again, gardens start looking a little skimpy, and that heavy fog which draped itself over everything in muggy August has settled into the river ravine and most mornings lets us gaze full-on at the sunny hills and mountains in the upper Delaware valley.

Stopping indoors seems more and more the thing to do and scrounging around for new (or old) patterns is one of my favorite knitting past-times.

I love knitting for people who mean something to me! Over the years my family has enjoyed lots of my knitted creations, from scarves to afghans to little bags to placemats and well, just anything!

This scarf I'm currently knitting is very pretty, if you ask me. I'm knitting it for a new-found friend who lives in Bremen, Germany. She will be visiting at the end of this year, but I can't wait to give her this, and with her birthday coming up in November, this will be a perfect gift!







I like to call this my "Falling Leaves" pattern, perfect for this time of year.

Multiple of 12 sts plus 1.
Row 1: (RS) P1, *p3, k5, p4; rep from * to end.
Row 2 and every WS row: Purl
Row 3: P2tog, * p2, k2, yo, k1, yo, k2, p2, p3tog; rep from * to end, end with p2 tog.
Row 5: P2tog, * p1, k2, yo, k3, yo, k2, p1, p3tog; rep from * to end, end with p2tog.
Row 7: P2tog, *k2, yo, k5, yo, k2, p3tog; rep from * to end, end with p2tog.
Row 8: Purl.
Repeat for pattern.
Easy and pretty. I make scarves about 60 " long and then fringe. They always look so professional.


No one will believe it! Least of all you.

Knitting Your Way to Happiness

Life just comes at us, doesn't it, in a million differentways. Every waking minute of our day, it seems as if there isalways something waiting for us. Some of it imminent; most of it pertinent; a little of it of no consequence.

Yes, life can be so complicated. Yet, it is in the midstof our daily frenzy that we can find the best solace.

How, you may ask? How, when life's daily expectances,simply look to overwhelm us. How then, do we make life simple again? How can what I do, any day, every day, allday long, ever begin to make a difference?

Good questions. There are good answers awaiting.

It is simple, quite simple. Just take your passion out.Whatever burns a fire in your heart, whatever soaks throughthe layers of your life and is sustained in and of itself, when all else makes no difference. Whatever you go back to timeand time again; that talent your mother told you you had manytimes when you were growing up.

Aside from my writing, it is knitting, which has woven its very threads into my being. I can't live without it! I love everything there is to know about being a knitter. The patterns, the creations, the yarns, the needles, the blogs, the websites, the books, the magazines, the shops, the camaraderie of others who share my passion.

But, more than anything else I love the way knitting makes mefeel!! It is in the quiet moments, when I hear my needlesclicking, and the very best thoughts, which I suspect are beingthought by someone else way out there in the universe and pickedup by my thoughts floating out there too; just like those wispy dandelion heads which we blew apart as children and watched fly away into the world. Somewhere out there they don't merely fall apart into nothingness; no, they find other wispy seed heads to join up with, to stick to, and become whole wispy dandelion heads all over again.

Whole, from a part. That's the secret to passion. Knowing thatyou, or I, are only a part of the puzzle. We are not the entire thing!And we never will be. We can only give what we have, and that will dojust fine, thank you!

But, there is so much to give! Just take knitting, for instance. In knitting's pleasures are found its treasures. Where can you caston one sole stitch and when completely done, behold a masterpiece evenyou didn't think was possible?! Where can you get to know other knitters,some across the street, others across the world, who know just what you know, who think just as you do, who hold the same passions inside just like you?

If your desire is to help people, here we are! Any yarn, any color will do.Caps for preemies, afghans for Afghans, blankies for little ones, shawls forthe sick, pretty scarves in furry colors like cotton candy and sapphire blue,to dazzle eyes that never see such fun. Of course, there is always Christmas,birthdays, and don't forget weddings. Nothing makes me feel nicer than to hearall the "ooh's" and "ahh's" when a beautiful wedding afghan that I knitted comes out of its gift box and everyone exclaims all round! Want to make your cat or baby dog extra cozy this winter? We do that too!

Then there is knitting to see my way beyond sorrow and grief. Tell me, who doesn'tknow that song? Yet, it's ending can be upbeat, or at least, a metered measurecloser to feeling better. Or in helping another to find their way through thedark. Because to knit, you have to be in the light.

Don't ever think you don't have what it takes to be the next helping hand, the next inspiration, the next big idea, because if you live and breathe and have your being in this world, then the possibility is there!

Because you are there. Because you are here. Because you have a passion. And the world needs your passion. Because with it you will never go wrong. Because with it is your key to happiness. And that is the only way, isn't it, to open thedoor to your heart!

Hot August nights

I have a friend who lives in Bremen Germany and she has a wonderful little saying on her website.

"Life is simple -- it's either cherry red or midnight blue."

Don't you just love it?! It really is so simple.

We do tend to terribly complicate our worlds and one of the worst ways we do that is by looking at all of life's options.

Walk down the cereal aisle in the supermarket or stroll into any shoe store in the mall, if you don't believe what I say. How about choosing a nail polish or trying to decide which shower curtain or bath towel to buy? And never mind about brands of soda, potato chips, or even birthday cards or flowers. We just have too much.

Choice is great but excess makes us crazy!

And, then there's yarn. You didn't think it was any different for crafty people like you and me, did you? If you are like me, then you really look forward to the latest edition of favorite yarn supplements, what with all the newest yarns, new accessories, and pretty patterns . Yet, start turning the pages and before you're done there will be at least 15 different projects that you want to knit!

Not two of them will use the same yarn! So there you are, looking at all this yarn for all these patterns and pictures and information, and all of a sudden the dreaded overload syndrome starts to kick in.

Just for a "for instance", do you like Beehive Baby Yarn, or Mellowspun Sport; how about Aran Irish Twist, or Softee Chunky or Titan Bulky or Satin Yarn. Maybe, Iced Iris Glacier Yarn, or Pretty Striping Yarn or Marble or even Camouflage yarn???

So, the next time "yarn hysteria" hits, remember, life is simple. It's either cherry red or midnight blue. Or with us knitters it's "Satin Stardust" or "Sugar 'n Cream." After all, anything sweet will do!

Knitting Around the World -- Denmark

Whenever I think of Europe, certain countries always seem to come to mind. There is France, of course and Germany, and Italy, but never Denmark.

But, not anymore.

Denmark may be small, sitting at the very top of continental Europe, but it's power is not to be under-estimated.

Looking for castles in the air? Or do you love golf, or biking, or hiking or water sports? Love clubbing, or staying in pretty bed and breakfasts? Then, Denmark is for you.

Copenhagen is a must-see. From the Little Mermaid to the Tivoli Gardens, to canal tours to the Amalienborg Palace to the Stroget, the world's longest pedestrian street for shopping (now we're talking!), there is something here for everyone!

Not too far away is Fredericia. Here you can see the "Landsoldaten" a giant hand in the grass, dedicated as the world's first memorial to the common soldier. One of the best things about Fredericia is the music, music, music. Like cozy and intimate, love jazz, or want to be a part of the musical academy? Then this is the place for you! Theatres and exhibitions abound, as well as beautiful shops and lots of arts and crafts, too! Not to be missed!

Besides, all that, there is the knitting. Some of the sites I came upon have such beautiful knitted creations! One of my favorite sites is Hanne Falkenburg Hand Knit Kit Gallery.
There is something for everyone here, I think, and some stunning colors as well. From Spinning Wheels in Copenhagen to Ebeltoft where you find Balleby Art & Knitting, to every little, cozy knitting studio in between, Denmark offers a fabulous array of beautiful knitting patterns and yarns, many of which are Scandinavian and unique to us here in the States.
For some delightful Danish yarn, drop into Garn Studio's where there is something for everyone. Or go to the Sirri store and learn more about the Faroe Islands and how yarn is made there.
And, hey, while your traipsing around Denmark be sure to check out the Olstykke Festival this coming Saturday August 11 at 8 p.m. One of my favorite groups, the Tremeloes, are appearing and they are fantastic!

And for a wonderful Danish welcome, please go to Visit North Sealand; you'll be glad you did!

There are flowers and then there are knitted flowers..

July.

The deep greens of summer don't get any deeper than now.

Driving along the long rural road from my house to Rt. 6, it's a foliage explosion. The road is a narrow, 2-lane affair with a one-lane bridge across a wandering creek about a mile from my
house. Houses peek out all along the way, but it's mostly woods and fields and more woods. Up and down and all around, the road twists and rolls, with sweet summer's lavishness so perfected it even spills out onto the street.

Low-flying birds of every variety soar crazily; sometimes coming within a hair's breath of my car. Flitting and floating in the air as if under an avian spell.

Through all the deep greens of grass and leaf, beyond the totality of the season's perfection, reflected in towering canopies of leafy naves, cathedral-like, in their glory, lie summer's crowning desire.

Wildflowers.

They are nature's jewels. Iridescent, multi-colored, dotting the landscape in sapphire, topaz, opal, ruby, amethyst, even ebony, protruding around corners, poking through fences and old outhouses, trailing along ditches, swaying boldly on the medians, usually always in bunches and bevy's, as if safety is in numbers.

Wild daisies with creamy faces, happy black-eyed susans, puffy cornflowers , golden yarrow, the occasional lupines, pretty purple coneflower, snowy yarrow, lush salvia, swaying tall green grasses, stately columbine, fields of wild lavender and pretty primroses, everywhere they are, and they are everywhere.

So, before I go off to Denmark, (my next knitting world stop), I'll post a few pics this weekend of my knitted flowers.

But, in the meantime, walk down the road and see what I mean!

Americans are a lot like knitters

Americans are a lot like knitters.

Yesterday was a typical summer Sunday in July in New Jersey. Hordes and hordes and hordes of cars, suvs, rvs, and motorcycles choking up every conceivable road to the Shore. The Jersey shore. That infamous, low-lying, other-worldly place over the Barnegat bridge. Ocean County sits there all week long, but it's not until Friday or Saturday morning that most of NJ, NY and PA decides to invade it.

Due to the fact that we lived in Ocean County for over 25 years, we're no tourists, only re-visiting what was once home.

The thermometer was showing 97 degrees -- a typical day with haze, and that shimmery heat glazing over the roads while you drive. Everywhere, activity. Roads heavy with traffic, parking lots filled to overflowing with cars, long lines at every stoplight; a sense that all of us are on our own important missions, visiting, beaching, shopping, eating, recreating, whatever; groovin' on a Sunday afternoon.

Still, with all that going on, there was the frantic, hurried, frenzied feel to the day. But, on a steamy July Sunday in NJ that's just how it is. The pulse throbs, the atmosphere is electric, and there isn't a storm in sight.

Each car, each vehicle, is a part of the whole; yet we are all separate and only in a world of our own making. It's funny, really, how we all go where we're going, passing each other, only paying attention to the rules of the road. So there we were, scores of us, hundreds even, cruising along on Rt. 6, Rt. 206, Rt.15, I-80, I-280, the Garden State Parkway, Rt. 70, New Hampshire Ave, Rt. 9, and every side street in between; seemingly a part of a greater whole, but with the feeling of complete anonymity.

That's why it made no sense watching the black BMW coming straight at us, rolling in a crooked line towards our Saturn. On second glance we realized the driver was slumped unconscious, his left arm hanging out the window, his head, black hair, completely down on the open window ledge. The front of his car was badly smashed and all along the driver's side as well. Then, looking past this wrecked vehicle, we caught sight of an suv on its side at the intersection of New Hampshire ave. and Rt. 70.

Instantly, we drove into the Exxon station on the corner and Bob got out and ran to the overturned suv. I, too, stepped out. Stepped out into a world full of people; no longer in their cars, but hurrying, scattering, immediately stopping their cars so no more traffic came through. Running to the BMW, running to the suv. Instinctively I dialed 911, like, I'm sure, so many others did. I was able to tell the operator exactly where I was, and when she asked "is it a bad accident?" I replied, "a very bad accident."

Within a few minutes we watched as Bob & about six or seven other men righted the suv, for underneath was the man who was driving in the vehicle with his wife and 2 children. He lay there on the road, bloodied, not moving, then turned on his side. The other man was still unconscious in his BMW and a woman was cradling his head in her hands while others stood around her as if for support.

We didn't wait for the ambulances to appear, but, the images stuck in our heads all the way home.

Then, it occurred to me, that all of us driving around, anonymous to one another, will, in an instant, come to each others rescue, will put our own safety on the line, if necessary, to help each other out if we need to. All different ages, sizes, colors, religions if you asked.

All different. All the same. All Americans.

You could liken all of us to yarn. Cotton, wool, chenille, acrylic, mohair, ribbon, specialty, worsted, sport, baby, fingering, lace, and on and on. Some don't seem to go too well with others; some are a natural pair, some once you put them together, you are surprised indeed at how well they look together.

No matter the yarn, whichever way you knit it, they all produce the same look, really, they will give you the same sweater or scarf or socks, or afghan; just a different variety, that's all.

We are all different looks, aren't we, just variations on a theme.

So, the next time someone says to you, "America isn't so hot, it's not that great a place", agree with them. And then proceed to tell them, "America is not a great place, it's the greatest place there is."

The good Samaritan would agree with you.

Yarn On Needles....Stones In Water.....

The last 5 years have been transformative for me. I think it happened when I looked at a claim today, here at work, and the street address said 'Brandon Road.'

If I was still living on Brandon Rd., I most likely wouldn't be having any money challenges and I could satisfy an inner itch for shopping by constantly going to the malls or online to buy. Every day something new, every day something else, every day more and more, fill the rooms of my house with more color, re-decorate, re-furnish, re-align, re-do, re-make.

To what end?

Indeed. How much "stuff" do we need? If I already have 40 pairs of shoes why do I need another? And what about the 50 books I want to read, but haven't gotten to yet? Fifty books; I'm not a speed reader, so that's going to take some time.

In 2002, we went out of the box, Bob & I did. We put our 4-bedrm suburban home up for sale, left good-paying jobs and bought an Inn. We moved to New Hampshire, took on a business we knew nothing about and excelled at it; loved taking care of all the particulars, all the business of the business. Yes, it was scary, from the moment the 'for sale' sign was planted out on the front lawn, through all the paperwork and phone calls, in getting financing and finalizing all the legalities, right down to getting used to a new state and new town and new people.

But we did it!

Challenges are the best things in life, they can be just as heart-stopping and exhilarating any other heady elixir. I remember a blue and white placemat I did up in needlepoint probably 20 yrs ago, and how HARD it was, how difficult to follow the pattern, yet I was absolutely determined to get it done and I did! How in recent years I've taught myself the particulars of "lace" knitting, and love the daring-do of figuring out how to create this wispy, delicate pattern which is beginning to take shape.

It is in the stepping forward, coming out of our comfort zones, enduring risk, thinking for my self, stepping up, being brave; Nike is right, just do it!

Here is my latest knitting project:

It's not exactly challenging, it's easy, in fact, something I've done many times before, combining stitches which, if I had a dollar for everytime I've knit them I'd be a billionaire! It frees my mind, though, to think up new projects, new knitting ideas, while at the same time, I'm creating something as well.

And I need the time, the space to knit "mindlessly", if you will, because there is so much else which has entered my life. There's my website, The Knit Stitch, the writing of this blog, My Space, my monthly newsletter, creating a new ebook and getting my "other" book set for publishing.

Publishing! Me? Am I sure this is right, me? Shouldn't I be just sitting here, at a low-paying job, satisfied with what I've got and leave it at that? No, I'm learning it's no fun to be on the straight and narrow, because you miss out on life while you have your nose to the ground.

How does the song go again? "I wanna live forever, I heard you say, But never say forever That ain't the way 'Cause I don't wanna live life by design So never say forever It's such a long, long time." From "Never Say Forever."
(For one of the best CD's I've heard in ages, go see the SweetLife. )

Safe is not good, it's only easy.

And to get where you want to be, can be a many-layered road; just defining your goals is only peeling away the initial sheen -- then it's on to the very heart of the challenge, seeing all the details, doing all the chores, checking them off your list as you go and having the satisfaction that they are now accomplished. And isn't THAT a nice word!

The Inn didn't work out. Not the way we planned, anyway. How many others can say the same? What has come and gone in 5 years for you? We have found another house, other cars, new friends. My nephew has died, a trusted Internet mentor met an unexpected death, my mom has passed away. Big blows, hitting hard, coming at you from the side and from behind; intended for creating great upheaval and unhappiness.

At first, it does. As time passes, though, as the fog slowly lifts away, you should be left with something you probably didn't possess previously; a clarity, as to what is most important, a luminosity on making your life count for something.

It's quiet at the center, quite like throwing a stone in still waters -- do it just once and watch what happens -- ripples move the water, one, then two, then three and more, outward, larger, stronger as thought creates action, which creates more action and creates new thought. If you are progressing in ways amenable to you and you alone (this is life's keystone), then thoughts and actions oftentimes lead to metamorphosis; to a "you" who never could have been "you" even five years ago.

I could still be living on Brandon Rd. My life could be ordered, secure, on track. Or I can be where I am, knowing not what tomorrow will bring, yet believing that those ripples in the water will touch others.

That will make all the difference.

The Flavor (or Flavour) Of The Day

Synchronicity. A work, an action, an impulse, that when it works right, it works to perfection.

There are days, rare jewels, in all our lives, where the flow of life sifts over and through all the dynamics, all the free-spiritedness which make up our days, our ordinary, routine, mundane existences, and turns them into that which we never expect, yet truly forever anticipate.

It's only through the grace of God that I write these words, that the thoughts which crowd into my head all day long were determined by a power unlike anything we can possibly imagine. That what we know here, what we see, what we think, how we perceive our world, is a mere sliver of a glimpse, into the powers on the other side. It is as if we've opened the door, but just barely; our hand actually, is on the door handle, a slight pull to reveal what is there, yet we have barely rattled the door lest we believe it has actually opened before us. Sometimes, our arrogance precedes us in every way.

Monday Monday. This day dawned absolutely beautiful. Cool. Not humid, chilly even, 55 degrees on the car thermometer. And this in July! In Pennsylvania! Driving along the road out to Route 6, all is sunny, green, lush, everything summer should be in its full redundancy. As I came to the stop sign here came the dump truck armada with what looked like at least five vehicles behind them, slowly snaking their way up the little hill towards me. With plenty of space to go, I pulled out and watched the line slowly recede in my mirror as the open road stretched out in front of me. How many times does that happen? Hand of God? I'd say.

Traffic was sparse and after I got gas, I pulled onto the entrance ramp to I-84, east. The ramp is long and bends uncomfortably when you drive it too fast, but to the melodic strains of Josh Groban singing the rhapsodic last bars to "Home to Stay", my car floated around the ramp as if seized by the rhythmic strains and in total conformity with its heartbeat.

As the ramp spilled onto the highway itself, the full, last strains to the song ended in perfect harmony to my driving as the empty lanes yawned ahead. It is here where Milford stays hidden in the trees except for the occasional horse farm or hill that appear now and then.

Celtic strains took over and the heavy drumbeat and bewitching sounds of The Sweet filled my car. Again, as I rolled through sun and shade, green and greener, as finally, my silver Saturn descended the rise and turned towards New Jersey, strains of "calling all the people of colour race and creed" created out of Picato Strings, Fender Squire, Korg Keyboards, Line 6 Pod, Soundscape/Sydec Digital Technology and Jeff Brown's delightful voice sounded through the Shure microphone. As the song drifted into its instrumental meditation, I headed east once again, where high hills surrounded me and the vista, here, is beyond extraordinary.

Three states meet at this juncture, NJ, NY and PA -- and nothing this impressive met my eye while living in New England where majestic landscapes seem, surely, second nature.

Nestled serenely today, abounding mostly hidden from our eyes is the Delaware River. Driving over the bridge into New York State, "SweetLife" gave way to "Hell Raiser", whose pulsating frenzy suits the trek up the mountain perfectly.

Four miles to the top and looking out at this most unusual of summer mornings, temps in the 50's, crystal clear see-for-miles tableau, I have my eyes peeled on I-84 going west.

Just before leaving PA a large tractor-trailer painted in the not-to-be-missed purple of "Crown Royal" whiskey passed me going the other way. It occurred to me then, that the race had just concluded in New Hampshire and that those who didn't depart yesterday were making the exodus today and looking for all roads south -- or at the very least, roads west, and then south. Another rig with "CAT" on its side passed by, must be Dave Blaney's (he & I share the same birthday), then something green with "Toyota" emblazoned all across the back, but not Jeremy's I could see, Mayfield being my favorite driver. Another rig with the "07" number of Clint Bowyer all over it, and another large rig all in black with fancy stencil-like logo's on it, which will remain forever lost to me as the trees got in my way.

From the top of the mountain, (Greenville, NY) the view through my rearview mirror is dizzying indeed; as PA seems to rear up at right angles to where I am driving. But, all settles down with the short descent past Exit 2 and then Orange County stretches out pasturally and verdantly with each passing mile.

Mal McNulty is screaming something about "x-ray specs", when the ultimate in RV living drives by going the other way; I see one, then two, then eventually count about 15 RV's in total, all custom, specialty-painted, state-of-the-art RV's, and I wonder which Nascar driver belongs to each one, with their big SUV's in tow behind.

Driving along towards my destination, it occurs to me how lucky we are in this country to just go where we want to go, over bridges, through tunnels, around mountains and down country roads without armed guards or tanks waiting for us along the way. On my drive home as I headed down the mountain toward home, I-84 stretched out like a winding ribbon away, away into the hills ahead.

This Monday was so much more than mere vanilla. Beyond anything blah, and ho-hum, it took on it's own distinct affectations; a little sweetness, some acidity within the workday itself, but, a bittersweet aroma as still the sun flicks off the tallest branches of the trees all around my house.

Right down to pulling into my parking spot at work, and having "Love Is Like Oxygen" stop on the dime as I put my car into park. Who could have ever guessed?

Someone is watching.

Besides knitting....................................

It was 37 years today
(and no Sgt. Pepper didn't teach the band to play)
but I met Bob...................................


Crystal Clear Stars


Crystal clear stars
Lightning bugs in jars
Hula hoops brand new
And Captain Kangaroo

American Bandstand
Transistor radios
Masses in latin
Shiny black patent leather shoes

Homes with no a/c
Just fans in your face
Hop scotch and Lesley Gore
The Beatles - oh! - to die for!

Thoughts like a river flow
Everything I know
Books I have read
Birthdays in my head

High school and girlfriends
Talking the night away
A litany of loves
Only one saw the light of day

Pique turns and arabesques
Grand plies at the barre
A Radio City Hall Rockette?
Who do you think you are?

Suddenly babies on my doorstep
Matchbox cars and hair barettes
Their life from me
My life is them

Unexpectably it passes
School years, concerts, growing up
It crashes into college
And car keys and size 12 shoes

Empty rooms and empty nests
Can make you sing the blues
This is my life after all,
Essence in multi-colored hues.

In between more babies born,
Yet, the old still died,
Nieces, nephews, barbecues and heroin,
In twenty years one life done in

Daughter, mother, student, aunt
Friend, co-worker, confidant
Dancer, writer, dreamer of dreams
Innkeeper, knitter, pray-er, it seems

For courage, and fortitude
For patience, no strife,
Only goodness and love,
In this my sweetlife

For that's all it's been
Through trials and through sorrow
For fifty some years
There's been a tomorrow

Too many others gone quick to the grave,
Out beyond Jupiter and Mars
Yet God's graces just keep on shining
Like crystal, like crystal clear stars.

How Did I Miss THAT?

Cranford, NJ. My hometown. The only Cranford in the USA, I've heard. Just 13 or so miles from Manhattan, it's a pretty town, full of comfortable homes, large, breezy trees and quiet shady streets. Almost anywhere is walkable, from the pathways leading to Nomahegan Park and the college, to the footbridge along the river, which, when it's behaving itself, stays within its banks.
All of my friends from high school, those who lived on Franklin Pl, Herning Ave, Brookdale Rd and elsewhere, are long gone; moved away, as have their parents. Yet, I still drive these suburban streets and things, for the most part, look the same.
For those of you who are wondering, yes, the high school looks the same as it did in 1969; only the steps no longer amble sideways up to the front doors, but were repositioned directly in front and go straight up. They've been that way for years.
Whenver I visit my Dad we inevitably end up at the Cranford Diner, directly across from the train station. NY buses still pull into the parking area, scoop up the waiting, and proceed to their next stop.
The downtown is still there, yet most of the stores and the places I most remember are long gone. No more Sweet Shop at the corner of N. Union & Alden Sts, no more Robinson's or Can Can, (I think the latter went the way of the winds when my daughter was 6 0r 7; she's 33.) The Peppermint room is also just a memory, where certain cliques found after-school refuge in the old-style red booths of the skinny soda shop. Gone, as well, is Seager's, the old fashioned drug store with the soda fountain inside, across from the 5 & 10. Am I making any sense? Funny how words mean something and then don't, how new words, silly words, take their place, some with great significance. Did you "google" today?
So many new businesses, so many new names, a few new buildings, but the downtown still looks remarkably as it did when we were all singing "Hey Jude."
I've been looking at those buildings for so long, the two banks on the corners of N. Union & North ave.; Martin Jewellers is still in the same place. Most of the downtown is two and three-stories high, with apartments in some of the spaces on the upper floors.
There is one 3-story building which faces the train station, and when you see if from the back there are wooden steps and wooden porches attached to the brick facade. Years ago whoever lived there had pretty flowerpots and flowerboxes strewn out on that 3rd floor back porch. I would always look there whenever driving through, and always saw flowers for the longest time. There did come a day when the flowers were gone and the apartment looked forlornly empty. Since then, I've never seen flowers on the back porch ever again.
Just last month my Dad and I drove to the diner and parked along the street right along the back of the building. Walking along the sidewalk I glanced up at the wooden porches again as we got closer to the small driveway area. Then I noticed something I've never noticed before. On the third floor porch, tucked into one corner, and obscure in the shadows, is a metal spiral staircase which ascends to the ceiling, where a closed panel goes through to the roof. And there it is, and there it's been, all along.
And I've never seen it before!
Over 40 years, and I've never noticed. Right there next to the flowers and the porch railings, perfectly obvious, hidden in plain sight.
How much of our lives are exactly like that? How much do we think we see; how much do we really see?
So, here's my point; look around your downtown, I mean, really look around, and find something you've never seen before. It just might be that little yarn shop or craft emporium, tucked away and not making any noise to get noticed, that you will discover. And do it before it's too late! On my way to Cranford, I have been passing by a yarn shop on Rt 15 and had every intention of stopping in to see what I might see; only thing is there was a fire about 5 months ago and now the yarn shop along with the other businesses in the old converted barn are no more. Hopefully, they are rebuilding, but who wants to wait?!

Next post, join me in Denmark!

What next?

Don't stay on "wrap up" too long -- you may get crucified. Or at the very least, same-timed. Yet, when calls are coming in hot and heavy, who notices you're there? Oh well, just had to vent, from a job that gives me little satisfaction. From a job that is filling in the blanks until all the rest pans out.

Don't get me going.........and don't ask me why I knit! It's cheaper than drinking, although a good gin

and tonic....................now we're talkin!

Lately I've been a knitting fool. Working on shawls, swatches, washcloths, scarves, shrugs, sweaters, baby stuff. Here's a picture of some of my stash, at least those things I haven't given away --

So, now what?

That is the question. This summer stretches out with nothing in particular to knit. No weddings, no babies, no special events of any kind; just long, hot days yet to come.

The temperature will inevitably climb into the 90's and then stay there; stuck, like flies to honey. Humidity will creep in and creep up until the air is thick and heavy. Then all breezes cease. Even those little winds which dance at the tops of the trees, just disappear; never to be seen again until September, when totally weary, and I suspect, disgusted with itself, summer finally collapses into a cooler version of what it should have been all along.

We aren't even into summer yet, that happens next Thursday on the 21st, my handsome son, Rob's, birthday, but the days are already humid and thunderstorms roll through daily.

Weather which doesn't require heavy sweaters and scarves and gloves and cars which feel like frozen tombs in the morning is a welcome break indeed, if you ask me. Take notice of these long evenings, after July 4th they will start going the other way.

So, back to my question.....what to make?

I've already picked out a lacy, willowy tank from one of the several knitting mags I subscribe to, so that may be my next project. I'm also leaning to something big. As in a bed comforter. Something in the nature of a patchwork primitve design, the kind you find in some old dusty antique shop in New England. So, we shall see.

I'm working out some patterns to knit some squares and will post them next week I think, after my newsletter is created and after all those hours spent at work, thinking about all I could be doing, somewhere else.

Knitting All Over The World - England

As promised here is the first pattern from around the world. Even as we traverse through Spring, it's not Spring all over the world; some countries are staring into Winter straight ahead. But, don't feel bad -- when we are lost in snowdrifts and flipping on ice patches they will be planting their gardens and watching their skin tan.


June stretches out before us like a long, lazy cat; warm days, crickets, breezes, thunderstorms, sun directly overhead and extra time, it seems, to knit!


I found this easy pattern, called Cat's Paw, on a British knitting forum.....www.knittingforums.co.uk. I always

enjoy finding out what everyone else is working on or struggling with, it gives perspective to so many things.





The directions are as follows: Cast on a multiple of 7 stitches.
Row 1: Purl
Row 2: K1, k2tog, yo, k1, yo, ssk, k1.
Row 3: Purl
Row 4: K2tog, yo, k3, yo, ssk.
Row 5: Purl
Row 6: K2, yo, sl1, k2 tog, psso, yo, k2

Repeat rows 1-6 for pattern.


And, while I'm on the subject of the British Isles, nothing is more appropriate to proper knitting than enjoying the perfect cuppa! Even I don't usually take tea this way; it's just too convenient to "put the kettle on" and drop milk and a teabag (at least I use Tetley's British blend) into my oversized teacup. (The chalice, as my husband calls it.)


When life gets too uncivil, too rude, too full-moonish, we need, we crave really, a sanction; something reassuring, that allows us to re-position ourselves and our thinking. Nothing quite fits better than a perfect cup of tea!


Over time, rules regarding tea have come and gone, and some have stuck around to enhance tea's qualities. I have created my own little list of "must-do's!" and even though I'm not British, (only a not too distant American cousin) this is one list I love to follow!


So, here goes........................


Rule #1: Use the good stuff! Only opt for Indian or Sri Lankan tea, that is. Anything else is just not the same.


Rule #2: Always use a teapot. Preferably made of china or earthenware.


Rule #3: Warm the teapot. I usually just swill it out with hot water, but warm is good.


Rule #4: Measure correctly. One teaspoon per serving and one for the pot is the norm. If you like stronger -- then adjust.


Rule #5: I've heard of pouring the tea directly into the teapot; I've never tried it so I can't comment. I use the little strainer ball and pour boiling water into the pot.


Rule #6: Use a good teacup. Mine is oversized, deep, and able to hold a good-sized cup of tea, which is what we're after here, it it not?


Rule #7: Start by pouring the designated amount of milk into your teacup FIRST. I've heard this rule is controversial, even right down to actual family arguments, yet it's the way I've done it for years, because a long, long time ago, I heard it was the English way to take tea, and I will never change this rule, no matter what you say!


Rule #8: This one's an option; drink your tea without sugar. Real tea connoisseurs will tell you the beauty of the tea goes missing when you apply sugar, but I love sweet! (And that goes for the rock group, too.)

Lastly, never, never, never drink lukewarm tea! It must be hot, scalding almost, to be enjoyed to the fullest!

Quite like life!