A Gift of Flowers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A gift of flowers from my friend

 

 

Flower Friday

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Friday

Photos are copyright Carol Steel.

Fingerless Mitts

Fingerless Mitts

Fingerless mitts.  What is their purpose?  If the office is too cold, they’ll help warm your hands and leave fingers free for the keyboard or paperwork.  If the bedroom is chilly, they’ll warm your palms and wrists while you read in bed.  Perhaps, they’re just for comfort or just for fun.

Whatever their purpose, I’m knitting fingerless mitts.  As with all my knitting projects, I follow a simple pattern and fingerless mitts are relatively easy.  I knit for pleasure not for production of works of art.  Plus I am unable to focus on challenging patterns without becoming enmeshed in mistakes, unravelling yarn and trying again, only to throw the over-knitted yarn away in the end.  Simple is better for me.  Then the knitting feels happy and comforting.

I bought some interesting yarn called “Twelve” because it combines twelve different kinds of yarn into each ball.  When knit, the variations create intriguing patterns in an otherwise plain mitt. The picture on the free pattern made the finished products look like fun.  And indeed the first pair of mitts was fun to knit.  They’re not supposed to be the exact copies of each other; I liked that.

The second pair was less fun because the balls of yarn were not consistently made.  The spots where the twelve different kinds of yarn joined each other were thin, too thin and broke easily, which created lots of cutting and repair work on the yarn.  Even worse, when one mitt was completed, close inspection showed that the knitted yarn had given way in some spots and was unravelling creating holes and gaps.

I wondered if I would have enough yarn left to complete the second pair.  I unravelled the holey mitt and saved what I could of the yarn; the yarn that was sturdy enough to hold together.  After a bit of swearing and re-knitting and pulling on the yarn to ensure it would hold, I managed to get two pairs of fingerless mitts made from the balls of yarn.

I should have shopped at my regular yarn shop which always stands behind the products it sells.  I should have made a larger fuss about returning the faulty yarn to the other yarn store where I purchased it.  I should have warned people about the pitfalls of buying yarn from a chain store just because it’s cheaper…oh wait, I am doing that.

What about the mitts?  I like the pattern.  I like knitting.  I’ll get better yarn from my favourite wool shop and make more.  I’m sure that the mitts I’ve knit will hold together.  Well, I’m quite sure. Kind of sure…

OK, if you receive mitts from me for Christmas, give them a good going over and return them to me if they are coming to pieces. Unlike the chain store, I’ll stand behind my work, allow you to return the faulty gift and I’ll knit you another sturdier pair of fingerless mitts.

Merry mitts to you!

Photo and words are copyright Carol Steel.

Happy Father's Day

 Happy Father's Day to Gary.  You wanted lobster.

You got lobster.

You're a great Dad and Step-Dad.

So eat your fill

and feel the love.

Happy Father's Day.

Photos are mine, lobster is Gary's.

Happy Mother's Day 2012

 

Happy Mother’s Day!

Happy Mother’s Day wishes to Julie, Pascale, Jeannette, Melanie and Melissa.  I send hugs and love, and gratitude for who you are, gratitude for all you do to make this earth a place where your children, my eleven grandchildren can grow and flourish.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mother. 

And for you a story…

On Mother’s Day, when I was ten (and for several years after that), I plagiarised a poem by Edgar A. Guest, as a gift for my mother.  The poem was called “She Mothered Five.”  Each year, I adjusted the words and the lines to make the verses appropriate for whatever was happening in our family of five children.  Guest’s sentimental verses about everyday life appealed to my ten year old sensibilities.  Mum mothered five of us for 25 years until my brother died in an accident; then there were four of us, four girls left.

When I was a teenager, I stopped stealing poems for my mother, switched to flowers or homemade offerings.  I remember going through an obnoxious stage where we called her “The Imperial Dragon”… yes, to her face.  She didn’t seem to mind.  Five adolescents required fire-breathing dragon-like parenting.  We all survived…sometimes toasted at the edges.

My Mother’s Day gifts and remembrances have evolved.  And they continue because it’s fun to remind my mother that I love her and that I am grateful for what she has taught me, for what she has given me.

Today I'm making her brunch and I’ll give her a bottle of Dubonnet; no doubt, she could have used that when we were teenagers.   I’m glad she’s my Mum and that she had the strength and the courage to mother the five of us.

I’ll tell her I love her… and, of course say "Happy Mother’s Day."

Photo is mine.

Thank You

Long ago, when I was young, very young, perhaps 10 years old, I learned that it is important to write thank you notes.  I had always known that it is important to say “Thank-you”, but Christmas time in our childhood home taught me and my four siblings the importance of writing notes to say “Thank-you.”

We lived in a home that survived because of my mother’s and my grandparents’ frugality and resourcefulness.   My parents had parted and my grandparents took my mother and the five of us into their home.  A major undertaking and an amazing act of love and generosity, especially in those long ago days of no social services and no laws to ensure that absentee parents paid any child support.  Making ends meet required imagination and creativity.

I remember Christmas as a lovely busy family time.  We didn’t have anything in excess but felt warmly loved with our gifts of homemade clothes and handmade toys from our grandparents.  Occasionally, there would be a “store-bought” gift or more rarely a gift of money from a more affluent auntie or uncle. 

We were raised to appreciate any gift, any thoughtfulness, any kindness and learned early the art of writing “Thank-you” notes.  After Christmas was over and before the school holidays were finished, my mother would sit all five of us down with paper and pencils to write notes.  For my younger siblings, she would help them by printing out what they wanted to say, so they could then copy it out in their own careful handwriting or printing.  Older children were expected to compose their own notes, with helpful questions, suggestions or guidelines from Mum. When each of us had finished, Mum would gather the notes (some worn thin from many erasures, some with tiny drawings, each expressing individual emotions) and pop them into a large white envelope and post them to the appropriate person.

Over the years during which we lived in our grandparents’ home, this ritual held.  Every holiday, every year, during the school breaks, we wrote the letters of appreciation for the remembrances of that Christmas.  It became part of our Christmas.  Part of our family’s rituals.

I still remember the wood and graphite smell of pencil shavings and the crumbly feel of eraser rubbings, the rough texture of the vellum paper we were allowed to use for special notes, the shaking of the wobbly-legged card table where we sat earnestly writing and the sense of accomplishment when Mum took all five letters and finally sealed them into the fat white envelope.

For me, Christmas still means writing “Thank-you” notes.  I wrote letters today, sitting with Christmas memories for company, amidst piles of note cards and stamps, address labels and pens, honouring a family tradition.  Saying “Thank-you.”

Self-Care, a Gift

It's been days since my last post, 11 in fact.  I've been ill with a thoroughly nasty head cold during most of that time.  Amazing to me that so much mucus can be produced inside one's head.  I've begun to wonder if I am hollow, save for snot.  Certainly, there hasn't been much brain activity during the sick time, among chills and fevers and fuzzy dreams, I have floated and slept and sneezed and blown.  Too much detail?

The last few days of December were wondrous times spent with family, some company staying here.  A party to celebrate Melanie's and Kelly's wedding with 35 close family and friends was a delight. 

Gary made a huge fragrant pot of his signature spaghetti sauce, his homemade caesar salad dressing and hand done croutons and bacon bits.  We fed everyone full to the brim, with decadent spaghetti, flavourful caesar salad, fresh garlic bread, rich Christmas sweets, and cakes (chocolate and carrot), attended with wines and holiday beverages. 

Tim gave a speech and we all welcomed Kelly to the family.  It was fun!  It was yummy!  And it was work!  It was a warm and boisterous family party.

And well worth the time and energy and love that went into it!

Over the holiday, we had times of smaller get-togethers with children living here and from away, and with much loved grandchildren: all treasured and appreciated and held now in fond memory.

I've written myself some notes.  Things to remember for next Christmas.  Ways to simplify and to relax and to spread out the work.  Will I remember?  Will I make changes?  Will I put a higher priority on self-care?  I hope so.  We'll see next holiday season if lessons have been learned.

Perhaps I will finally open the present I can give to myself,

the gift of better self-care!

All photos are mine.

Christmas Day 2011

This year, on Christmas Day, we were unable to spend the day with any of our own children.  My niece invited us to a pot luck dinner at her home with her sisters and mother, grandmother and extended family.  It was a bright and busy time with their three small children.

They opened their gifts and shared their delight at surprises from Santa!

The baby was keenly interested and wanted to eat the decorative paper, while his Dad unwrapped the gifts.

Mom enjoyed unpacking her stocking full of goodies, too.

And after dinner and after the gifts and after dessert and after the clean up, the adults helped the children put together toys and some lost at video games against the younger, more expert players.

Thank you for time with family, for a meal together and for sharing the delight and wonder of your children at Christmas time.