Two Black Sheep

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

So it's pretty much official . . . we'll be moving "house" blogwise in a few weeks. Once the new blog is set up (with honest-to-goodness real names), I'll post a link for the new home so readers can update their RSS feeds. It's been a challenging decision but one that we pretty much had to make. After a while, it's kind of hard to hide that you actually know HTML and the like without giving away the "secret" . . . plus I have to explain the whole name thing as well as the fact that it is "just a knitting" blog.

Ava

The Mall and Misery

The thing about birthdays is that they come around every year (usually, at least). Since the last post, there have been four . . . four . . . in that time span. Gus turned five on the 8th, Betty and Veronica turned 19 on the 15th, and SK turned another year older today (truthfully, he turned 35). And the thing about birthdays and blogs is that once you've extolled the virtues of the person in question, you've pretty much said it all. That being said, I'm pretty sure that everyone had a happy birthday although I wasn't with any of them when they celebrated it.

This is the first year that the Girls and I have been apart for their big day. Sure I posted birthday wishes on Veronica's Facebook wall and texted them much love and affection, but it's just kind of weird celebrating without them. I did, however, use their birthday as a chance to grab a burrito at Moe's and some ice cream at Baskin-Robbins afterward. For some reason, I wanted Chocolate Mousse and World Class Chocolate on the day of their birth, and the Flyer was a very obliging husband-to-be at that point and trudged off to B-R to grab me two scoops before he went to work. Six hours later, the Girls made their debut. For the record, he suggested Baskin-Robbins on their birthday . . . but I happily went along for the ride.

Since we weren't with the girls for their actual birthday, we celebrated a week early in Philadelphia. Prior to them attending Temple, Philly was the forgotten city for me. I went there rarely, cursed every minute of the travel, and couldn't figure out what all the hub-bub was about. In November 2008, my girlfriend Mary and I saw Kings of Leon at the Electric Factory, and she made it her goal to make me love the city. I'll have to admit, the flirtation with the City of Brotherly Love might have begun that evening. Of course, with all things romantic, it could have been the alcohol. I texted her last weekend and told her that I was giving the Flyer the abbreviated Mary tour of Old City. We walked a fair bit (translation: a lot) and then popped in to Triumph for dinner and drinks, but the Girls and their sweeties met us later that night at the Franklin Fountain for ice cream.

The next morning, we checked out early and walked and walked and walked. The nice part about where we were was even with lots of walking, you never really felt tired. So, one water bottle, two pairs of Toms, an Etsy shirt, some Starbucks cards, and cash for a new tattoo later, the girls went on their merry little way to their first birthday without us. Lucky for them, their friends thought of cupcakes . . . and I got my World Class Chocolate. 

The knitting is slow going. Whereas Mabel started out like gang busters, I've started up an affair with the treadmill . . . so far, it's been fairly discrete, but I sense things getting more serious in the next few days. Don't worry, Knitting, I'll be back in no time.

Ava, who's pretty sure she has a sister out there

Wonderful Christmas

Just popping in to wish everyone a happy Christmas (and every other winter related holidays)! I finished a Koolhaas for a co-worked but neglected to take a photo . . . phooey. Hopefully I won't get coal in my stocking!

Love,
Ava (and Lola)

The Song Remains The Same

Busy, busy, busy . . . pretty much sums it up. But, there's always time for Martha. I wasn't going to go this year since the parent who set it all up in the first place has a student in the program again was chaperoning, I kind of lost my space on the trip, which was fine . . . until he got sick and canceled this afternoon . . . for tomorrow's trip. So, it's off to NYC for a Martha taping! The teacher who runs the trip queried when he called, "You have your knitting ready?" Luckily I remembered that I had students in the room before I answered, "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

Clear The Area

Being 40 is kind of stressful (thanks for all the birthday wishes):

• on-line course that is requiring beau coup amounts of time; 
• three classes of writing quizzes to grade;
• two presentations at work in one day that required me to summarize ten days' worth of training into two hours;
• children home from college for the weekend with pick-me-up shopping to be done;
• one of whom has a fever and now I am paranoid; and
• miles of garter left to go before I sleep (and many apologies to Mr. Frost for that bastardization). 

Ava

(If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To

Let's see . . . since our last post, the following things have occurred:

1. I attended my first ever Stitch and Pitch along with several of the ladies I knit with on Tuesday evenings. We were going to take two cars but wound up only needing one . . . best thing ever to happen. It truly helps when your driver, the fabulous husband of one of the ladies in question who always calls to give us our estimated departure time on Tuesday evenings, is a former New York City cab driver. Enter car, sit down, laugh a lot, arrive at Citi Field without causing an accident. There were about 200 or so knitters in left field in the promenade (which sounds glamorous as all get out until you realize that it is a nice way of saying "nose bleed" section) all knitting away, which is probably what the Mets were doing, too. There is no other way of excusing the 10 run lead that the Braves had at the bottom of the 3rd. I knit on my EZ moccasins from The Knitter's Almanac; they might be one of the few patterns by EZ that I just don't get . . . truly not liking this pattern, but at least the girls will have a comfy pair of socks when I am done. Oh, and if you ever want free stuff, make sure you have Maryann with you . . . and by free stuff I am talking about books from Nikki Epstein that Nikki autographs to you right before she hands them to over (thanks for the Harding book, my Italian guru).

2. Owing to my crap skills of cabling and chatting at the same time, I crossed a cable the wrong way three times - it looks very, very drunken - on my latest project, so I had to drop down 18 rows and knit up the correct cable. I sure as hell was not going to rip out 18 rows just to fix four effing stitches. Then, to add insult to injury, the last cable that I knit that night after I actually got to knit was wrong. Maybe it's old age setting in.

3. Awesome segue . . . the Flyer turned 40 amid suffering from the flu. Sure it wasn't the flu, but it sucked ass nonetheless especially since the girls were home for the weekend. I debated whether I should get him a card that lamented what a pain it was getting older with the health issues or one that explained that he was just a few years away from making crap up . . . and chose the last one. Luckily he is on the mend, but between the two of us, we've been sickish since August 14.

4. Beth Brown Reinsel visited Mountain Knits and Pearls again for another workshop. This time, she demonstrated different gansey techniques with a small sample sweater. And, shockingly enough, I actually finished this one. Granted, it will never grace a person, bear, or Barbie, but I know of a really nice bottle of wine that has been longing for a hand-knit merino sweater.

5. Probably the best part of the blog silence, Lola had business in New York City earlier last week, so I hopped on a train (missing my first train by 30 seconds - I counted!) to visit with my sister for a day and a half. I treated her to her first Indian meal, which was excellent by the way, after which we both needed the ten block hike back to the hotel. The following day, I successfully got us to six different shops from the Midtown to the Upper East side to Soho and back again with only one wrong turn . . . and even that wasn't really a wrong turn since I simply didn't read the address on my print out correctly. Even Lola will admit that she was subtly impressed. Hits: Amma for dinner, School Products for the birthday yarn and yak, Knitty City just because. Misses: 'wichcraft for not living up to the hype, the R train for not having its schedule labeled better, and Purl for not having anything that piqued my interest (but I'll let that slide this one time). 

6. And finally, we bought a new mattress. We actually bought the box springs as well, but they wouldn't fit up the stairs . . . just another charming example of why living in a house that was built almost 100 years ago keeps you on your toes.

That's it . . . nothing major, nothing really new, nothing exciting . . . just life. I have several "obligation" knits that I have to get done before I can tackle anything fun and exciting. But all in all, fall is looking to be a pretty interesting season.

Ava

New Round

School was back in full swing yesterday for me and for the girls. Granted, I was done with my day by the time that Veronica began her classes, but I'm pretty sure that we survived the first day (and there seems to be a ton of "first day" posts on Facebook). It was an interesting day for me at school because we have two new teachers on our team, I have a new room mate (who is one of the new teachers), one of my best friends is in a different building, and the girls are off on their own new adventure. All of that would seem to cause some type of commotion, but the day was pretty much "hitch" free. Sure, there were some minor issues but nothing that can't be solved relatively easily. By the time I got home from school yesterday, I was so knackered that the 20-minute "power nap" - that means the nap I intended to take was rudely interrupted by my neighbors shooting paint guns and I work up - was greatly needed. There must have been twenty or thirty families waiting at various bus stops to pick up their elementary kids . . . odd that I won't have that "luxury" anymore.

Dropping the girls off at school was technically easy as Temple appears to have this down to a science, but emotionally it was challenging. Some how we fit everything into the car (still unsure how that happened other than to say that I must have raised exceptional packers) and were down to Philly by 8:30 AM, unloaded by 8:50 AM, and pretty much unpacked by 10:30 AM. After a trip to Walmart, Super Fresh, and Best Buy, the Flyer and I were ready to head home . . . by ourselves. I did fine until I made it to the parking lot and then there was a lot of looking up to avert the tears and deep exhalations. Tears? Of course . . . but not as many as I had planned. Maybe it was good that I had planned for the worst because it didn't happen. I think Lola put it best: this was our job - getting the girls to this point in their lives - and we did our job. We aren't going to retire, but our job description has changed dramatically. We can't be there 24/7 to make sure that things are getting done properly, but we can hope. We can't tell the girls what they ought to do, but we can dream. Hopes and dreams . . . that's all we have.

Knitting? Not a lot getting done, but I did finish a Christmas stocking the other day . . . I just have to take photos. My photos are really getting me down lately. I just can't seem to get "the" photo that I need. Our local vocational school offers adult education classes, one of which is in photography with SLRs . . . thinking I might need to sign up for a class.

Ava

Merry-Go-Round

I thought I'd share a couple of fun pictures from our State Fair trip.  The butter sculpture picture didn't turn out well enough to share.  Damn.

Livin' Things

I was going to let Lola do a recap of her Los Angeles odyssey - and truly, if you remember your high school epic poem studies, it really was an odyssey in the most basic sense of the word - but something tells me that I should wish her a happy birthday instead. So, Happy Birthday, Lola!

Things you should know about Lola and me when we were growing up:

• I didn't really like her . . . resent is too strong of a word, but I liked being an only child;
• our mom made me baby-sit and didn't pay me since it was family;
• any kind of bizarre food combo, I made and Lola (and the others) had to eat it;
• some of my favorite photos of her involve costumes of one type or the other; and
• occasionally the games that we played involved lots of running so that she (and the others) would tire out faster (see number two).

Lola and Tuck at the girls' grad party . . . and I love this photo!

Things you should know about Lola as an adult:

• it's rare that a day goes by when I don't talk to her, and I don't pick up other calls when I am talking to her (fine . . . sometimes if the girls are calling I will);
• she has one of the best grasps on how to parent without smothering and has two awesome little boys to show for it;
• she's the one who makes the more "bizarre" foods now, but they all turn out really good;
• some of my favorite photos of her involve her eyes being closed; and
• I blame her for the latest Wii craze . . . but in a good way!

So, enjoy your day, Lola! Happy Birthday - sit on your ass all damn day . . . after your weekend, you deserve nothing less! And with all that hype, you really need to pull a post together.

A

PS - Before you settle into the couch, mail me that shawl . . . I'll block it in the newly cleaned attic, which is where I am headed (wish me luck!).

S. A. D. Light

I hate today. That post pretty much summed up why. But I also hate it for another reason . . . the way other people make me feel. I'll never know what my parents went through in 1973. Hell, it still shocks and amazes me that they stayed together after Clark's death. But I dread when the day creeps up and the ringing of the phone with their number on caller-ID. I know what's coming and I hate it.

If I bring it up, I make my mom cry. She says something about what a cute baby he was, I say something about surrounding him with toys, but really we both know what isn't said: he's not here and we both wish he was. If I don't bring it up, as I chose to this morning, she rarely says anything. That ends well until the phone rings and it's my dad. His conversation begins equally light (this morning's was about all the snow days that we've had) but then he asks if I remember what today is . . . and all at once the pain and the tears that I have been trying so hard to ram in the back of my brain, throat, gut, wherever it is that I have hidden them, come exploding to the surface. Of course I remember what today is. I obsess over how I can manage the pain this year beginning around Christmas, especially if we have been home since Mom will have been thinking about it too. But nothing helps. Every year, I think I am one step closer to not crying, not feeling guilty for having a happy life, not exploding in anger, not sobbing at the sappy commercials, not dealing with it like a lunatic.

Yet here I sit, crying again, leaving slightly panic stricken voicemail messages for Lola, accepting the Flyer's hugs, and reverting to my three-year-old self. At least I don't have to work (I never go into work on the 28th . . . close friends know why, some understand, some think it is irrational) but there is a driveway to be shoveled, grades to update, knitting to complete . . . just with one less sibling to share it. And you know . . . I'll deal with it the same way I always have, shoving the tears a little further back, cramming the pain a little deeper, until next year when they explode to the surface and we're back to square one.

Ava

PS - Thank you for all the comments about the sweater debacle. I'll post photos of it later today and the complete explanation . . . I just have to bribe a daughter to model it for me.