Happy New Year! Today, the eighth day of Christmas we celebrate “Holy Name Day.” Twelve days of Christmas STARTS December 25th and ends on Epiphany (6 January) the day we traditionally remember the visit of the Magi.
So, when my kids were little, they were learning about the Magi in Sunday School. One afternoon in the car, the guy on the radio was talking about Elvis’ birthday (8 January, in case you were wondering) and a little voice piped up from the back seat, “Mommy, was Elvis one of the magi?” Well, he WAS a king, right? Can’t make this stuff up. No wonder, we blur the lines between sacred and secular.
Knitting goals for 2019 – I follow a facebook thread called “addicted to sock knitting” and one participant suggested 52 pair of socks for 2019 – I’d be setting myself up to fail. So, I’m revisiting the popular “sock of the month” club. Means I bagged up 12+ skeins, and labeled them by month. Pull down one bag a month and make a pair. I haven’t bagged yarn this year – I have enough requests for socks to keep me busy. Three UFOs to finish first, though. UFOs are “unfinished objects.” There will be pictures.
Monday night I wandered into the kitchen at church to fill my cup with ice for movie night. I discovered this fabulous ice quite by accident a couple of years ago. Small, squares about the size of that almost forgotten “Chicklets” gum. Second only to Sonic ice, but that’s a story for another day.
So, Monday night I went in to fill my cup before the movie. And the ice machine was NEW. Yea!
My second favorite ice had been replaced with plain ice – flat, bland – like they have at McDonald’s. Ordinary. Not special.
If I can’t have my second favorite ice, then why do I keep keys to the church? I complained mightily, filled my cup anyway. Because it IS summer…
Knitting. That’s why we’re here. Usually. Working on a sweater for a designer. I’m a test knitter. Did y’all know that? She sends me a pattern – no picture, because what I’m knitting will BE the picture. Yummy yarn. Usually really fabulous stuff that I might not have otherwise been able to knit with. And. She pays me to knit her stuff. Can’t take pictures of these, because they’re not mine to share. But I can tell you about my progress. The sweater I’m working on today was due the first of June. I’m not finished. I need about three more inches on the back. Haven’t started the front. Sleeves are about halfway there. My excuse? Camp. And all over cables are really, really slow. Not too complicated, just slow. And I love the yarn and I love the pattern…just slow. And I haven’t planted anything. I’ve been knitting.
But I’m back – got an updated IPad and keyboard. My old IPad was limping along and my mother got one when she replaced Sarah’s phone. She had solitaire, bridge and a jigsaw puzzle on it and wasn’t enjoying it…at all. MINE. Thanks, Mom!
Finished baby african last night
Christmas tree cakes. Is there anything better? For years, I bought them to fill children’s Christmas stockings. Then, a few Christmases ago, when one was packing her car to head back home, she left the box on the bed. Unopened.
“Wait, aren’t you going to take this box?”
“No. About that, Mom. We don’t actually like them.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because we knew YOU liked them.”
And the other day, Jamie brought home a box when he went to the grocery store. Full circle.
trying to figure out how to get pictures of Christmas stockings off my phone and on to the screen….sigh.
five year olds can do this, why can’t I?
My mother is a serious lover of chocolate. Each fall, when the Halloween candy first hits the shelves, she starts to make her purchases. Probably three bags of different candy. Like a “taste test” to make sure the candy is just like she remembers…Then two or three more bags…then another…and FINALLY she’s ready to make her Halloween selection. And she goes and buys the REAL Halloween candy. Lots of it. Y’all my mother hasn’t had a trick or treater in 30 years. But she’s ready.
This morning as I headed out the door with a loaf of bread for a friend, I remembered that I baked bread a lot when we first moved here as a way of introducing myself to the community. I baked for teachers at school, people I met at church…pretty soon people in Florence were remembering me as the “bread lady.”
There was one woman at church who had been really gracious and I baked her bread as a “thank you.” She called. “Dah-ling (emphasis on the DAH)…thank you for the bread. I’d like it delivered every Wednesday. I’ll leave two dollars on the kitchen counter.” Wait. What? It doesn’t work that way. Which is exactly what I told her. It doesn’t work that way.
Her birthday is coming up. Might bake for her birthday…