yeah yeah yeah

Snowed In and Happy

Right now I'm sitting on the over-sized futon, dog in lap, looking up at the window in the basement. About half of the view is covered in snow but it still offers a pretty good peek into the world outside. The crazy snow world outside. Holy hell we have a lot of snow. After round one of Snowmaggedon I placed a ruler in the yard - officially marking the 23 inches of snow that dumped on us. This morning, the ruler is deeply buried. So I don't know what we are up to as far as accumulation is concerned but what I can report is that the snow is close to reaching the top of the fence in the back yard. Check it out.

 

What does one do to keep sane while cooped up in the house for what is now day six? This household has spent most of the days in the basement. Last Thursday I got ourselves all organized and snugged with our essentials downstairs. We got ourselves a bottles station, changing station, a dog and his bone area. Lance has his in-home office and baby girl has toys a-plenty along with blankets and pillows on the floor for grandé tummy time. The bassinet is back up for nap times and our fridge is full. Life is good. We are warm, happy and together. Lance spends most of the day working. He is actually working from home and getting paid (Gratefu!). Sunny rotates from my arms to Lance's lap, the jumper, the floor, the bouncing chair and back to my arms. It is a routine we are liking. She is completely obsessed with her rainforest bouncer and it is officially the MVP of Snowmaggedon in this house. 

 

So what does this momma do to stay sane? Bake. A lot of baking. Chocolate chip cookies, cinnamon rolls, apple dumplings, no-bake cookies... good God we are packing on some extra warmth in this house. Luckily we aren't eating these alone. We have been sharing with various neighbors and enjoying the camaraderie that a blizzard brings to the neighborhood. But the shoveling counteracts the sweets, right?

Lance is obsessed with these cinnamon rolls. So good.

  

Chocolate chip cookies full of love. I used more brown sugar and less sugar this time. Awesome change-up that worked really well. 

Apple dumplings. They were much better then they look. I used my mom's old recipe and my house smelled like cinnamon for days. Reminds me of my momma. 

I've also knitted for a special February birthday and made some Valentines. And of course facebook dominates much of my home-bound time. I'm completely frustrated that it is all wonky this week, but whatever. Good times! Ha ha. And I mean good times without sarcasm. I guess I'm one of the crazy few who actually enjoys these "no where to go" days. I've yet to experience cabin fever and all this snow makes me dream of spending a winter in Maine, snowed in for months. Crazy talk, right? But this is also coming from the person who spent her last vacations in Iceland and the Eastern most part of Maine.  

Happy winter and happy Snowmaggedon. Stay warm and stay safe friends.

Number 20. I'm a Yarn Snob. Twenty-Five Lessons from 2009.

After my mother passed in September I inherited my choice of her yarn collection. And we aren't talking a few skeins for a a couple of scarves. On, no. One could not believe just how much yarn one woman could accumulate. We are talking thousands of skeins of yarn. And not cheap, Hobby Lobby yarn either. My mom had fine taste in yarn. She liked Rowan, Debbie Bliss and sock yarn best, but she was always willing to buy anything if the color or texture caught her eye. For many many years she collected yarn. I think the find and the buy was often her favorite part of knitting. She did not drink. She did not smoke. Yarn was her vice. Not a closet in the house, besides maybe my Dad's closet, was free of storage bins full of yarn. For the most part the yarn was well organized too. Her bedroom closet - mainly baby yarn and older worsted yarns bought 15 years or so ago. In cedar chests she kept her wools and under the beds I found mostly cottons and sport weight yarns. I'm not exaggerating when I say yarn everywhere.

So as the new part "owner" of the yarn, her best friend Georgia and I had the great task of rummaging through the many stashes and deciding what we wanted to keep. While going through boxes and chests of stashed yarn I learned a lot about the person who was my mother and also saw pieces of me through her.

She was so organized. Her knitting needles were organized in fishing lure bags, each labeled and ordered by size. All the straight needles separated from the circular needles. Full collections of Brittany's, Clover and Bernina's all labeled and ordered. I can hear her saying now, "well we will look but I don't know how we will ever find it in this mess back here". Referring to finding a particular book or pattern I was wanting. But she always knew exactly what book I was looking for just by my fair description and she always knew right where it was despite her thinking it was lost forever. Her book shelves were kept better stocked and organized then any yarn shop I'd been to lately. She also kept every issue of every magazine she subscribed to and she had a ton. She would have made a good librarian. So I guess that is where I get my intense need to have everything in its right place, organized, in a bin and labeled.

If she had one skein of Regis sock yarn that she liked she had twenty. My mom did not practice moderation. If she found something she liked she went ahead and bought multiples of it. I found dozens of counter peg holders because at one time she and Georgia thought they were going to discontinue making them. She and her partner in crime, Georgia, once found a small crochet hook with a crooked end, it looks like dental tool, and loved them so much they bought several just in case they lost one. 

As I mentioned before, my mom had nice taste in yarn and wasn't afraid to pay for it. I guess I inherited her yarn taste. The tides have changed and I now have yarn stashes in every closet, under the bed and under the crib and anyone looking at my stash would conclude that I'm a yarn snob too. But when faced with thousands of skeins of yarn for the taking my natural instinct is to grab all the Rowan first, Debbie Bliss second and all the Noro I could find. I, like my mother, am a yarn snob. 

Eight Days A Week

Eight Days a Week. I tell you, that is how many days a week I wish I had right now. New house update: we have officially put the house under contract and are signing official paper work with the lender tonight. To think, eight days ago we saw the house for the first time and today we are pushing through all the legal documents, insurance needs and gobs of other paper work so we can actually close on the house on September 28th. That is only 11 days from today. I have yet to start packing and quite honestly, I'm afraid to pack. I'm more then a bit superstitious and I do not want to jinx the contract. My front room is filled with broken down boxes ready for me to duck tape together and fill, yet I can't get the nerve to place a single item in a box until I get the official "it is 100%" from the lender. We have been at "98%" for the past few days.
However, it is reasonable to pack up the summer clothes and shoes to make room in the drawer for all the wonderful hats, scarves and mittens of winter. That isn't cheating the system, right? Whether or not the house goes through, we need to pack up the summer goods. As much as I hate to see summer officially end, I love fall and the start of winter. It was actually in the 40s early this morning. Almost time to wear hats.
So I spent part of the evening packing up one season and laying out another and thought it was appropriate to take a few photos of items my dear mother has knitted for me over the years. I cherish all of my hand created knits by my dear mother and love knowing that her hands created the item that keeps me warm. Even on the worst of days this stripped hat makes me happy.  (I was suppose to put a picture of my stripped hat in this area but I can't find it. I searched the house over last night. I know it has be somewhere logical and again I will search tonight. I'm so freaking mad and sad.)

She actually had to make this one twice. (Hopefully not three times). About ten years ago I lost my cat and my hat in the same day. I called her crying about my loss and she could hear it over the phone. I was more upset about the hat then the cat. She is a huge cat lover so I'm sure she wasn't pleased, but the cat was strange and probably better off without me.. but the hat, the hat needed me. The yarn she used for the version one of the hat was out of production. But after several phone calls to knit shops across the country borrowing from her BFF's stash, I got my hat back and version two was identical to version one. The cat however, did not come back. (Sorry cat. I should have been a better cat mom.)

My mothers love for me and vice versa is no secret. I'm the baby of the family, three sisters and a brother and I was born on her birthday. 8/8. She has given so much love in my life but has also given me the strength to find myself and do what I need to do in life, even if that means living 1,200 miles from home. I hope to some day give as much love to a daughter as she gives to me. I love her.

Six Feet Under

I wish the grass was six feet under snow today. I'm ready to say goodbye to the warm and hello winter, I love winter. Especially that one rare winter evening where it starts snowing and snowing and before 9 pm you have no doubt that the university will cancel classes and as a university employee, you get a snow day too. Since we live in the middle of town, snow days equal a nice walk to the town square, breakfast at a local cafe along the way and bundling up in scarves, hats and mittens. This Charlie Brown Christmas square keeps me cold and wishing for snow. Honestly, I love winter but I'm not at all a Christmas fan (I know, I know, who doesn't like Christmas). The sensationalism is just disgusting. I think Christmas music is cheesy and dumb, stores put up Christmas decorations way too soon and all Christmas movies are lame. All except for one that is. Thank you Charles M. Schulz and Vince Guaraldi.
"Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?" Yes, my BFF. One winter break in college a bunch of friends loaded up a 15 passenger van and headed to the mountains for a week or so. My mom was furious that I wasn't coming home sooner then Christmas Eve and I sure as hell wasn't going to  let that stop me from five days of skiing Summit County. Nothing like a ski trip to blow all your money. I come home a.) penniless, b.) having only bought a few Christmas presents and my family is huge and c.) to a very angry, I'm not going to talk to you for weeks, mother. But BFF saved me. At the time she worked at a local bookstore and must have spent a lot of time searching the store for cheap items I could buy for my family while I was gone. When I finally came home from skiing and in a panic with no money, no presents and Christmas basically a day a way, she had a plan for me. She helped me figure out what to buy people, but a few books back that were extremely discounted and I think even helped me wrap everything. I didn't come home Christmas Eve empty handed, mom was still mad at me but only for a day or so. BFF saved Christmas.

Northern Lights
So why the picture of the mittens? I'm showing off the talents of my BFF. You know your BFF loves when you get these mittens in mail for your birthday. Aren't they beautiful? She has been giving knitting a go for several years and after some pretty random fitting hats and a Cosby sweater, the girl found her knitting jive and she is amazing. The pattern is called Northern Lights. I'm obsessed with someday seeing the Northern Lights and these mittens are perfect. As perfect as they are gorgeous. Even my superstar knitting mom and her BFF where in awe of the jewels. I'm a lucky girl. Thanks BFF! I'm holding a drink up to you in a toast. Cheers!