Dear Ricky.
Do you still go by that name, or is it Rick now?
I remember when we were kids, you and your brother were so close, it was as if his and yours were one long name. I think my sisters were probably that way too, although mostly what people told me was that the one was so shy, they only remembered the other, and didn't realize there were two.
Your name came up the other day, as you can imagine, and made me stop and think about way-back-when. Made me think I have some things I want to share with you. Keep in mind, it's been nearly 40 years since we first met, I have no idea what's been going on with you.
I remember your Mother. She had me over one day ~ something about having a girl around for a day, instead of all those boys. We made cookies, I think. I had never heard of Oleo. Your Mother was a very different person from our Mother. I didn't really get to know her in the time I spent with her.
It was your Father I learned more about. Probably because of all the time we listened to him, in the congregation, but the story of our father was sad, so to listen to yours was a comfort that we needed at that moment. In person he was very kind, genuine and was heartfelt. I can still hear his laugh. So many others were too stiff to laugh, but he could and did. I wonder if your laugh as an adult is anything like his.
I got you in trouble once or I got myself in trouble, I guess. Somehow I met you and your brother at the mall, looking at 45's. You guys had a pretty extensive collection at home, I remembered. We didn't buy records then, unless they were at yard sales or the thrift stores. I remember one song you guys showed me, I said I'd heard it on the radio before. You bought it, but it apparently gave one of you nightmares. Do you remember? I think it was you that told me about bad dreams, but I don't recall if it was you or your brother that had them. I don't even remember what song it was, but I always felt bad about that. One of those recollections that always cause me regret, occasionally a sleepless night, wondering what I could have done differently. I have a quite the selection of memories that do that, I suppose being human we all do.
What has been going on with you? I can't even begin to guess. I'm sure there was some gossip going around about you, I'm sure there is some about me too. I'm not a big fan about that kind of drama, so I truly have not heard anything. Life has not gone the way I'd hoped, but my expectations were thin at best.
If you are where I've heard you are, I'm sure that life has not gone the way you've planned, that you've made every kind of mistake any normal human could make. I do hope that you, in your heart, still talk to God and know he's listening, like your father taught you, that He truly is the only being you can rely on. I hope you are standing tall, like your dad.
I also hope that someday, you and I, your siblings and mine, will find ourselves happy to be in each others presence, and make each other laugh and show our children how to be grown ups, that you and I will be close as brother and sister, too, and that in our old age we can be content in each other's company.
That is the definition of hope, isn't it? The idea of something seemingly unlikely, but yearned for just the same.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Ribbed Hat Pattern
This is for worsted weight yarn. Most donation programs ask for acrylic yarn for easy laundering, but how great would it be to make as a quick gift of wool!
Size needles: I'm using a circular size 6, which is too long so it has a loop at the row end. If you can find a 16" or dpns, your preference, whichever is easiest. I find the circular needle most convenient for a take along project, fits into my purse. For instance, when we leave the house to do grocery shopping, I can get three rows done before we get to the store.
Stitch Markers: at least 4.
Mine takes about two ounces of yarn. With 2 three ounce skeins of acrylic, I can get three hats, with a tiny bit leftover.
Cast on 96.
My preferred method is a Tubular Cast on, I learned many years ago from a magazine article written by Lily Chin. I cannot find a video that does this exactly -- this is pretty close. Creates a Knit One, Purl One rib.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQmkBeKCLSM
For a Knit Two, Purl Two rib, I saw a suggestion (I thought was on Knitting Daily, but of course I can't find it) where you are actually cabling on the first round so that it changes from 1x1 to the 2x2. So, in this case I always start with a knit stitch in my cast on.... Then the first working round, or the first round after casting on, goes like this: K1, P1, either put the next stitch which should be a knit on a cable needle and work it after the next purl or leave on left needle and purl THE NEXT STITCH, then knit the first and slip the two stitches off the left needle. Repeat these four around and you have changed the 1x1 rib you cast on to a 2x2 rib to work with. This would be a great opportunity to learn a new stretchy cast on.
Another thing that is very cool, is that it is very easy to see and correct if your stitches are twisted. You'll notice I did not say, 'Cast on being careful not to twist your stitches'. At the end of the second row, if your work has twisted, simply untwist it, no one will know.
Knit around in two by two rib for a minimum of 6 inches. My preference is to go longer, 7 to 8 inches, because less barely covers the tips of the ears, and of course some folks like to fold the hat so a double layer covers the ears, which means knitting for 9 to 10 inches.
Place a marker every 24 stitches. This should be in the middle of 2 knit stitches and divides the body of the hat into four sections.
Decrease round: Slip one, knit, PSSO (or a left-leaning decrease), work to two stitches before next marker, K2tog (right leaning decrease), repeat three more times around. Decreasing this way leaves knit ribs primary throughout the crown at the marker. Continue decreasing EACH ROUND until you have two stitches between markers or 8 stitches total. Cut yarn at about 4" and with a large eye needle, thread tail through all stitches. Weave in end, block and done.
For acrylic yarn: I recommend washing on the gentle cycle in the washing machine and drying on low temp with a dryer sheet until mostly dry, to get the most softness and less likely to pill. I block mine on a Styrofoam head, like you see in my pictures.
Once you've done one hat, play around a bit. I've done some of the hats with cables throughout, just like how I suggested in the change row to create two by two rib: knit the second stitch then the first and slip off both. Cable done! I cable every other rib, every fourth row, then two rows later, cable the skipped ribs. This way if the cable rows are tight, the alternate ribs keep it from being unwearable. UPDATE: 10/27/12
Have just completed a 1x1 rib version of this, adding note here in case there's interest (it turned out nearly reversible!) :
Same cast on, 96 stitches. Work for 7 inches in the knit 1, purl 1 rib. Mark the four sections of 24 stitches. (Should start with knit stitch and end with a purl, or at least mine did.)
Crown decreases: K2tog, work to two stitches before next marker, p2tog. Repeat for each section, around. Repeat for each row, until you are down to 8 stitches. Cut about 4" tail, and weave end through all stitches, weave in ends.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Dori, 2012
http://youtu.be/G9BKYqHSBLY
This is a link to recent video of our rescue girl, Dori.
We have had her now for more than three years. Change has been slow, but there has been change, and we rejoice with each incremental sign that there is a dog in there somewhere, such as this little bit of footage.
This is a link to recent video of our rescue girl, Dori.
We have had her now for more than three years. Change has been slow, but there has been change, and we rejoice with each incremental sign that there is a dog in there somewhere, such as this little bit of footage.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
No apologies
You may have noticed I don't say 'I'm Sorry' anymore.
I have always felt that if I had to say so, it had to be from the heart. It always has. From my heart, I have sincerely apologized for being wrong. When I wasn't wrong, I was apologizing for hurting you. I have always thought that doing so was taking a pass, fixing everything, reverting all things back to the way it was. A 'Get Out of Jail' FREE card, if you will. Another fairy tale, another dream life, dashed and cursed as stupidity.
You have taught me otherwise. In your eyes, my apologies are evidence of weakness and proves you were right. Regardless, I have to be punished with your silence and unforgiveness, sullenly unforgettable. I am thankful it does not last weeks and months, silent but for slamming doors, but it still feels terrible, like you're going to leave me.
Don't demand I speak up and then get upset if I'm shouting. I, for one, can't tell if you couldn't hear me or weren't listening because your focus was elsewhere.
Stop picking fights with me. Who do you think I am? You seem to forget I'm the one that loves you, would do anything for you, only want your happiness.
Where is your happiness? Why can you not find it? If I am your world, like you say, live like you love it, like there's no place else to be. As if you love me.
I'm not playing at loving you. I'm not 'being that way' whatever that way is. You are breaking my heart. When you walk away, I need to know you're coming back, because this life would be over without you. Note: I didn't say I won't survive. We both are very practiced in getting by in survival mode. I'm saying I don't want to go back there.
I have always felt that if I had to say so, it had to be from the heart. It always has. From my heart, I have sincerely apologized for being wrong. When I wasn't wrong, I was apologizing for hurting you. I have always thought that doing so was taking a pass, fixing everything, reverting all things back to the way it was. A 'Get Out of Jail' FREE card, if you will. Another fairy tale, another dream life, dashed and cursed as stupidity.
You have taught me otherwise. In your eyes, my apologies are evidence of weakness and proves you were right. Regardless, I have to be punished with your silence and unforgiveness, sullenly unforgettable. I am thankful it does not last weeks and months, silent but for slamming doors, but it still feels terrible, like you're going to leave me.
Don't demand I speak up and then get upset if I'm shouting. I, for one, can't tell if you couldn't hear me or weren't listening because your focus was elsewhere.
Stop picking fights with me. Who do you think I am? You seem to forget I'm the one that loves you, would do anything for you, only want your happiness.
Where is your happiness? Why can you not find it? If I am your world, like you say, live like you love it, like there's no place else to be. As if you love me.
I'm not playing at loving you. I'm not 'being that way' whatever that way is. You are breaking my heart. When you walk away, I need to know you're coming back, because this life would be over without you. Note: I didn't say I won't survive. We both are very practiced in getting by in survival mode. I'm saying I don't want to go back there.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
It means something
Thirty years ago today, I got married the first time.
I really don't have anything important to say about that, beyond what I've said before, and what I do have to say I want to be thoughtful about, so let me compose that.... Unfortunately, I've been swamped and pooped out and haven't finished. Stay tuned if you need to pay attention, otherwise, see you around?
Edited 9/16:
I've said before, the important thing, in my opinion, that happened to me during all those years, was my daughter. She has been the sunlight in my everyday, and I probably would not be the person I am today without her very existence. She is my future as well, and I realize, she has great importance in the universe, so I am content to share her with others.
I have been changed since that day 30 years ago. That probably is an understatement, I've probably been changed in many times over, but there are some things that are very obvious that I can share:
Things are not so black & white at nearly 50 from nearly 20. I think a lot of the rules we learn when we are young do seem to be black and white, right or wrong, happy or sad, but as we get older there are a lot of shades of grey that also become blatantly apparent. Perhaps the rules of youth are guidelines to make decisions by as a protection until we figure things out on our own later.
I hate quoting Dr. Phil on this one but I know for a fact it is a truth ~ We're not grown or adult when we are out of school or married or have driver's licenses or whatever is the drinking age. A study Dr. Phil pointed out shows that there is a part of the brain that can see the result of decisions we make that is not developed until about the age 25. For my part, a lot of things became apparent right about that point. Of course there were a lot of things happening about then, the birth of my daughter, the loss of a sister-in-law close to my age to breast cancer, the loss of another in-law in a tragic accident exactly four months later... Making a simple statement to my mother of my determination not to raise a daughter to hide from the skeletons in the family closet or to condone (making light) of those issues, and thus not having her a part of my life for a couple of long years....
All of those things were very hard to bear, but the toughest complication came from how I was treated by the mental health profession. I came to realize I was in a relationship that I was unequal to, and the 'experts' determined I was clinically depressed and put me on drugs that eventually landed me in the hospital psych ward for two weeks. Those two weeks were the longest of my life. They were right at the time my daughter turned one-year-old, and her first steps happened right there on that nasty carpeted floor. Each different person who wanted a piece of me there had a different definition of why I was there (ranging from Post-Partum depression, unresolved issues with the abuse received in childhood by my father and others, poverty, unemployment, etc.) and a different pill to cope with it, but it is my opinion I was sad or having a difficult time dealing with a sad situation. Plain and simple. No pills required for that, but a decent friend would have been really helpful.
People are not usually what they say they are, but they are what they prove to be. I've found out that I tend to believe everything a person tells me, but the older I get, I tend to shelve that information for corresponding proof. With that, People cannot be depended on (including myself) and if you needed someone to depend upon absolutely, you have to look higher....
I don't have much regrets: There are a lot of people I miss, many who have admirable traits that I wish I had. However, the world relishing drama and reality television like it does, it seems that most would rather let the world go along that way. We seem to expect certain people to behave a certain way, when in real life we are entirely capable of better behavior. In that same vein, if we are of a moral or religious view, we should be emulating whatever higher being we worship. Most people seem to have a faith but don't tend to behave that way, which is beyond sad ~ it's deplorable. We should all be better than that. Often makes me wonder at what age we grow out of school yard childishness.
So, I tend not to look back at those years as lost. They're not lost, I have some very good memories. I don't have much beyond that so I tend not to look back at all. I don't wish to stand still, not much can be done about the past, I can only move forward with those who would move forward with me.
I really don't have anything important to say about that, beyond what I've said before, and what I do have to say I want to be thoughtful about, so let me compose that.... Unfortunately, I've been swamped and pooped out and haven't finished. Stay tuned if you need to pay attention, otherwise, see you around?
Edited 9/16:
I've said before, the important thing, in my opinion, that happened to me during all those years, was my daughter. She has been the sunlight in my everyday, and I probably would not be the person I am today without her very existence. She is my future as well, and I realize, she has great importance in the universe, so I am content to share her with others.
I have been changed since that day 30 years ago. That probably is an understatement, I've probably been changed in many times over, but there are some things that are very obvious that I can share:
Things are not so black & white at nearly 50 from nearly 20. I think a lot of the rules we learn when we are young do seem to be black and white, right or wrong, happy or sad, but as we get older there are a lot of shades of grey that also become blatantly apparent. Perhaps the rules of youth are guidelines to make decisions by as a protection until we figure things out on our own later.
I hate quoting Dr. Phil on this one but I know for a fact it is a truth ~ We're not grown or adult when we are out of school or married or have driver's licenses or whatever is the drinking age. A study Dr. Phil pointed out shows that there is a part of the brain that can see the result of decisions we make that is not developed until about the age 25. For my part, a lot of things became apparent right about that point. Of course there were a lot of things happening about then, the birth of my daughter, the loss of a sister-in-law close to my age to breast cancer, the loss of another in-law in a tragic accident exactly four months later... Making a simple statement to my mother of my determination not to raise a daughter to hide from the skeletons in the family closet or to condone (making light) of those issues, and thus not having her a part of my life for a couple of long years....
All of those things were very hard to bear, but the toughest complication came from how I was treated by the mental health profession. I came to realize I was in a relationship that I was unequal to, and the 'experts' determined I was clinically depressed and put me on drugs that eventually landed me in the hospital psych ward for two weeks. Those two weeks were the longest of my life. They were right at the time my daughter turned one-year-old, and her first steps happened right there on that nasty carpeted floor. Each different person who wanted a piece of me there had a different definition of why I was there (ranging from Post-Partum depression, unresolved issues with the abuse received in childhood by my father and others, poverty, unemployment, etc.) and a different pill to cope with it, but it is my opinion I was sad or having a difficult time dealing with a sad situation. Plain and simple. No pills required for that, but a decent friend would have been really helpful.
People are not usually what they say they are, but they are what they prove to be. I've found out that I tend to believe everything a person tells me, but the older I get, I tend to shelve that information for corresponding proof. With that, People cannot be depended on (including myself) and if you needed someone to depend upon absolutely, you have to look higher....
I don't have much regrets: There are a lot of people I miss, many who have admirable traits that I wish I had. However, the world relishing drama and reality television like it does, it seems that most would rather let the world go along that way. We seem to expect certain people to behave a certain way, when in real life we are entirely capable of better behavior. In that same vein, if we are of a moral or religious view, we should be emulating whatever higher being we worship. Most people seem to have a faith but don't tend to behave that way, which is beyond sad ~ it's deplorable. We should all be better than that. Often makes me wonder at what age we grow out of school yard childishness.
So, I tend not to look back at those years as lost. They're not lost, I have some very good memories. I don't have much beyond that so I tend not to look back at all. I don't wish to stand still, not much can be done about the past, I can only move forward with those who would move forward with me.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Comfort but no joy
This week one of my co-workers lost her son. He was murdered.
I first heard about it on the news, not sure why but I thought 'Some poor mother's son...' I never have that thought about any other similar item on the news.
The next day is when we heard through the workplace gossip chain that this was the son of one of the ladies we work with. It was our day off, so we went out to her home, gave her hugs, shared some tears, not sure what we could say at that moment that would truly be consoling ~ although my husband has lost his son, who could somewhat know what she was going through.
That night, I had several recurring dreams. Actually it was a tv episode that replayed. My husband enjoys watching the psychic mediums John Edwards and Lisa Williams who had a show for two seasons some years ago. There's one episode of Lisa Williams I've seen multiple times, where a woman comes to see her who has lost her son, murdered, and has had no answers from authorities. Lisa takes her out to where it happened and tells her it was a drug deal gone bad, and comforts her.
Isn't that kinda the point? When people lose loved ones, aren't we as good neighbors to attempt to offer solace? I don't personally believe in mediums, psychic or otherwise, but I understand that they are attempting to give comfort.
In this situation, every time it gets brought up, the person I'm discussing it with, thinking they too will have some comfort to give, or HELP ME COMFORT SOMEONE, they say well, (based on the location) that was a drug deal, and what can you expect, and they shrug it off.
How does that help?!? Really. A mother lost her son. No matter the situation, a child is not supposed to pass before their parent. That is a grief beyond compare to be endured.
I have other things to say about this, but the inner Tourrete Syndrome in my head is kicking into overdrive and my ability to be nice to people-not-nice is waning...
I first heard about it on the news, not sure why but I thought 'Some poor mother's son...' I never have that thought about any other similar item on the news.
The next day is when we heard through the workplace gossip chain that this was the son of one of the ladies we work with. It was our day off, so we went out to her home, gave her hugs, shared some tears, not sure what we could say at that moment that would truly be consoling ~ although my husband has lost his son, who could somewhat know what she was going through.
That night, I had several recurring dreams. Actually it was a tv episode that replayed. My husband enjoys watching the psychic mediums John Edwards and Lisa Williams who had a show for two seasons some years ago. There's one episode of Lisa Williams I've seen multiple times, where a woman comes to see her who has lost her son, murdered, and has had no answers from authorities. Lisa takes her out to where it happened and tells her it was a drug deal gone bad, and comforts her.
Isn't that kinda the point? When people lose loved ones, aren't we as good neighbors to attempt to offer solace? I don't personally believe in mediums, psychic or otherwise, but I understand that they are attempting to give comfort.
In this situation, every time it gets brought up, the person I'm discussing it with, thinking they too will have some comfort to give, or HELP ME COMFORT SOMEONE, they say well, (based on the location) that was a drug deal, and what can you expect, and they shrug it off.
How does that help?!? Really. A mother lost her son. No matter the situation, a child is not supposed to pass before their parent. That is a grief beyond compare to be endured.
I have other things to say about this, but the inner Tourrete Syndrome in my head is kicking into overdrive and my ability to be nice to people-not-nice is waning...
Friday, August 10, 2012
The subject of storage auctions burns me.
Every once in a while, I find reviews of storage facilities just like this:
... lost everything I owned. Can you imagine losing pics, videos of your children being born and their life, blankets and furniture that was handed down for years, all your kids clothes, toys, movies, memories, all my clothes, dishes, jewelry, very nice stuff. I fell a little behind on payment. I think when they auctioned my unit I owed not even $300 it was like $250. Totally heartless!!! I was trying -- it wasn't like the unit was abandoned!....
(NOTE: I edited this so as not to post personal identifying information, and also because the spelling was so bad.)
This was an actual review of a facility managed by someone I know and respect. If they knew this was posted about their place they would probably be saddened.... But then again, this particular reviewer also stated this happened years ago, and was probably even before the person I know is the manager there was placed at that facility.
Still. I find postings like this everywhere for storage facilities. In light of all the television programs about self-storage units going to auction, you would think it was something that happened all the time and that it was a lot of fun. As is terribly apparent in this reviewers post about my friend's property, there's a very sad element.
Here's the actual lowdown on how a unit falls to this fate:
1. I haven't found anywhere in this industry where someone's storage rent isn't due on the first. It's just like rent on an apartment. Due every month, like clockwork.
2. A storage facility manager that believes in customer service will try to reach you before any late fees happen, as the charges are adding up, more insistently as the auction day draws near.
Unbelievably, though, I find people have a careless attitude toward maintaining contact with me. Often the information I have on my tenant's expires, they move, change the cell numbers, don't check that e-mail anymore, etc. and the avenues I have for contacting them evaporate.
Part of their attitude is to treat this as another bill. It doesn't really apply that way, though, because most cost-of-living expenses are necessary and can legally be negotiated. As an example: A customer service representative for the Power Company has the ability to work with folks when they are having a hard time. Credit and loan companies also can work with their customers.
The luxury of being an American is the ability to acquire. Buy more! When you can't get around your house, put it in storage! That works until you don't have the income to pay for a dozen garage size units and your mortgage anymore.
There are probably folks who hate me or drive past my property, throwing hexes in my direction, because they lost stuff they've stored here. Cherished memories or collected articles from generations passed. I can show that person that the attempt was made (literally) a thousand times to reach them by every phone number, address, e-mail, researched them on google or Facebook trying to figure out where they could have disappeared to...
... and in the end I have to just let it go. It breaks my heart every time that it ever got out of hand and fell through the cracks that way. In the end, I have to hope that that person 'threw off every weight that entangles' so that they could keep running, with their head held up, not burdened by this load anymore.
~ I have a relative who doesn't speak to me anymore, since I started in this field. The person had lost a storage unit about 20 years ago. I do take this subject a little too personally, I know. When it comes to losing someone you love, you just do. ~
... lost everything I owned. Can you imagine losing pics, videos of your children being born and their life, blankets and furniture that was handed down for years, all your kids clothes, toys, movies, memories, all my clothes, dishes, jewelry, very nice stuff. I fell a little behind on payment. I think when they auctioned my unit I owed not even $300 it was like $250. Totally heartless!!! I was trying -- it wasn't like the unit was abandoned!....
(NOTE: I edited this so as not to post personal identifying information, and also because the spelling was so bad.)
This was an actual review of a facility managed by someone I know and respect. If they knew this was posted about their place they would probably be saddened.... But then again, this particular reviewer also stated this happened years ago, and was probably even before the person I know is the manager there was placed at that facility.
Still. I find postings like this everywhere for storage facilities. In light of all the television programs about self-storage units going to auction, you would think it was something that happened all the time and that it was a lot of fun. As is terribly apparent in this reviewers post about my friend's property, there's a very sad element.
Here's the actual lowdown on how a unit falls to this fate:
1. I haven't found anywhere in this industry where someone's storage rent isn't due on the first. It's just like rent on an apartment. Due every month, like clockwork.
2. A storage facility manager that believes in customer service will try to reach you before any late fees happen, as the charges are adding up, more insistently as the auction day draws near.
Unbelievably, though, I find people have a careless attitude toward maintaining contact with me. Often the information I have on my tenant's expires, they move, change the cell numbers, don't check that e-mail anymore, etc. and the avenues I have for contacting them evaporate.
Part of their attitude is to treat this as another bill. It doesn't really apply that way, though, because most cost-of-living expenses are necessary and can legally be negotiated. As an example: A customer service representative for the Power Company has the ability to work with folks when they are having a hard time. Credit and loan companies also can work with their customers.
The luxury of being an American is the ability to acquire. Buy more! When you can't get around your house, put it in storage! That works until you don't have the income to pay for a dozen garage size units and your mortgage anymore.
There are probably folks who hate me or drive past my property, throwing hexes in my direction, because they lost stuff they've stored here. Cherished memories or collected articles from generations passed. I can show that person that the attempt was made (literally) a thousand times to reach them by every phone number, address, e-mail, researched them on google or Facebook trying to figure out where they could have disappeared to...
... and in the end I have to just let it go. It breaks my heart every time that it ever got out of hand and fell through the cracks that way. In the end, I have to hope that that person 'threw off every weight that entangles' so that they could keep running, with their head held up, not burdened by this load anymore.
~ I have a relative who doesn't speak to me anymore, since I started in this field. The person had lost a storage unit about 20 years ago. I do take this subject a little too personally, I know. When it comes to losing someone you love, you just do. ~
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)