tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19582619352698108552024-02-08T00:33:52.275-05:00This Bean KnitsThe misadventures of knitting, survivors of homeschooling and clutter.knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.comBlogger391125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-46475006513193685302015-06-23T16:25:00.000-04:002015-06-23T16:25:24.088-04:00Norma's Prayer Shawl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Earlier this year our former neighbor and good friend told us that his mom had breast cancer. It didn't sound like things were good, but she was fighting it as best she could.</div>
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I couldn't do anything for the family and it was driving me nuts.</div>
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I had met Norma a couple of times when she was visiting them and we were all out in our yards.</div>
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I sat next to her while he son was preaching as a guest at a local church.</div>
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I remember asking her if she was nervous because he was new to preaching.</div>
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<i>I </i>was nervous for him!</div>
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No, she said. She was fine. I thought, "Wow! What confidence she has in her son."</div>
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And she had every right to be confident in him because he did great.</div>
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When he called to let me know about his mom, I thought maybe I could knit a prayer shawl for her. I'd never knit one before, but it just seemed like a right fit for this situation.</div>
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I talked to a friend of mine who had knit a couple of them and got some suggestions.</div>
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I looked all over Ravelry and finally decided on the tried and true pattern.</div>
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The pattern was k3, p3 and the yarn was Lion Brand Homespun.</div>
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I've never felt much love for Homespun. I don't know if it's because it's such a 'loopy' kind of yarn or what. I do know it's soft and makes wonderful shawls - we have a couple around here ourselves!</div>
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So off I went to Michaels and picked out the colorway. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8vXXC9QTkMcmk4F31cvgfsjVFI67SiPzdk3WMijVHSEMvpmtS64z0XFfK9nHod2kNsxcuYV9q9aA8lQwjydXymFzveyi0y1cfg8O0ESiBCSM-tD2jIuHTTkQEfBUV-pbR7lZaHMggMk/s1600/IMG_1045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8vXXC9QTkMcmk4F31cvgfsjVFI67SiPzdk3WMijVHSEMvpmtS64z0XFfK9nHod2kNsxcuYV9q9aA8lQwjydXymFzveyi0y1cfg8O0ESiBCSM-tD2jIuHTTkQEfBUV-pbR7lZaHMggMk/s320/IMG_1045.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'd read about how you should start the shawl with a prayer for the recipient and how you should continue to pray for them while knitting. I am a one project knitter. I know, I know. You probably didn't realize those existed. I'm a rare bird. :) I put away the socks I was knitting, which created a little anxiety for me. I just felt this shawl was important.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid82zwCvBj-myuoAv1BPxyhDk0gznb0zQ43ZDMJ9SeRz15YYsqc_Zp9Yh02Y8tTy8hasdnem48qsmIL7zqajs1lakhq2rvvR5mmxMqamV3YTVlWABvjE4gz19jBfRgaYDtUIWb4h7s9Q/s1600/IMG_1047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgid82zwCvBj-myuoAv1BPxyhDk0gznb0zQ43ZDMJ9SeRz15YYsqc_Zp9Yh02Y8tTy8hasdnem48qsmIL7zqajs1lakhq2rvvR5mmxMqamV3YTVlWABvjE4gz19jBfRgaYDtUIWb4h7s9Q/s320/IMG_1047.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Every day I picked it up with thoughts and prayers for Norma.</div>
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Every night when I put it back down I was mad at the yarn because I just didn't like to work with it.</div>
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I was exhausted.</div>
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I just kept plugging away trying to figure out what was wrong with me.</div>
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Was it the yarn? Was it the unfinished socks looming over me? What was it?</div>
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I finally finished it and delivered it to our neighbors with a little 'prayer shawl prayer' attached to it.</div>
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He delivered it to his mom around Mother's Day. She said it was so nice and soft and told him to thank me for it.</div>
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I finished the socks I had left hanging and tried to recuperate from that exhausting knit.</div>
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I spoke to my friend who had helped me decide to make it in the first place.</div>
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She told me I was exhausted because of all the prayers and thoughts that went into it.</div>
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The knitting was more than just a physical action. It was also a mental and spiritual one.</div>
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June 6th, he let me know that his mom used the shawl all the time and wanted to let me know. She was even using it when he texted that to me. He said I had blessed her.</div>
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She passed away that weekend.</div>
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When I look back I realize that the pattern was easy, the yarn not expensive, the time easily carved out. But the thoughts that went into that shawl and the prayers made it special for me and, more importantly, I hope for Norma.</div>
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It was worth every single bit of aggravation.</div>
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I would make another prayer shawl in a minute.</div>
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The rewards for everybody involved are tremendous.</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-28850741789282388532015-06-12T13:28:00.000-04:002015-06-12T13:28:20.094-04:00A Whole Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I let a whole year slip by without one single post. </div>
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I started several, but never finished them.</div>
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Sometimes life has a way of just needing to be lived instead of recorded on a blog.</div>
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Our lives are nowhere near last year. We have moved on.</div>
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I don't think 'moved on' is appropriate. I think we've drifted where life has taken us.</div>
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I still knit. I still read. I still sew.</div>
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I still love the same family.</div>
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But I think a lot more these days.</div>
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I think about what I want out of life.</div>
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How I love my family as a whole and as individuals.</div>
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How life is not going the way I planned and that I have to let go and live it according to His plan.</div>
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That letting go is hard for me.</div>
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That I have to trust Him instead of people.</div>
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People will sometimes let you down even if they do have the best of intentions.</div>
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Some people just don't want to be in your life as much as you want them to be.</div>
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My Mom always controlled things. She controlled the way we ate, dressed, wore our hair,</div>
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spent holidays, who we dated....</div>
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I thought that's the way life was. She said it, I did it, end of story.</div>
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But when the person who is in control is not in control anymore, what happens to the blind followers?</div>
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They shuffle around in the dark for a while.</div>
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Hopefully they get back in the light and find their own way.</div>
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I think I am finally seeing the light of day again.</div>
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My Mom is in the final stages of Alzheimer's.</div>
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I hate the disease. I hate what it does to the person who has it.</div>
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I hate what it does to families who can't agree on the type of care needed.</div>
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I hate what it does to the people who are caring for that person.</div>
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It does not affect just the person diagnosed with it.</div>
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It's not the situation of they get it, they decline, they die, end of story.</div>
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The disease doesn't play that way.</div>
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Some people choose not to be around their loved ones during this time.</div>
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I understand that.</div>
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I am not that person - some days by choice, some days not so much.</div>
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I don't want praise for staying.</div>
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I don't want to be told I'm doing everything right, because I'm not.</div>
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I don't want to be told I'm doing everything wrong, because I'm not.</div>
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But also I don't want to be the one who gets the call in the middle of the night that she's fallen and needs to go the the emergency room for xrays.</div>
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I don't want to be the one who calls and finds out that she's 'agitated and combative' and she's spit her meds at her nurse again.</div>
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I don't want to be the one who sits in the parking lot at the nursing home praying that the visit will go well. That she will know who I am today. That she will actually say my name and know that it is me she is talking about and not someone from her past who isn't sitting there holding her hand.</div>
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I don't want to be the one who is told she <i>has</i> to be in a memory facility and I have to sign the papers to make it happen.</div>
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I don't want to be the one crying in the parking lot after a terrible visit.</div>
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But I am that one.</div>
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I am also the one who has been blessed beyond measure.</div>
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I know who my true friends are.</div>
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I know that the disease affects people regardless of color, sexual orientation, religion, etc. My group of friends has grown as a result and I have more of an understanding of people.</div>
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I know that my husband has been extremely patient with me for the past 30 years and has had more faith and confidence in me than I ever have. I know he will be with me through thick and thin.</div>
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That he will do the necessary work I cannot bring myself to do.</div>
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He will go the nursing home when I can't bring myself to.</div>
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That he doesn't mind fixing dinner after a full day at work because he knows I need to sit and knit, sew or just sit to find some inner peace.</div>
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Yesterday as I sat with Mom and tried to calm her and get her to eat, I got a text from a dear family friend whose mother has been battling breast cancer. She was being moved to the hospice floor of the hospital. He kept me in the loop as to what was going on and how he was feeling. When I got home I called someone dear to my heart to share what was going on with Mom and ended up learning his son, who is battling colon cancer at 40, was back in the hospital in terrible shape. We all listen to one another. We all pray for one another. We are in this boat together.</div>
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Unfortunately these are not lessons you can learn by leading a life without pain.</div>
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All that to say that I'm still here.</div>
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I'm not the same person I was and that's a good thing.</div>
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If you have a family member with Alzheimer's, please reach out for help.</div>
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There are free services available. They are hard to find, but when you do, you realize they are priceless anyway.</div>
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Don't beat yourself up.</div>
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We'll have answers to all of this one day.</div>
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<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-74274000847643810332014-06-10T15:36:00.001-04:002014-06-10T15:36:10.553-04:00Blast From the Past<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When I was a little girl, Daddy worked on the Space Program in Florida. It was such a big part of our lives, that it just became so 'normal'. Watching the launches from our driveway, going to Kennedy Space Center, and seeing the changes in the space program were not a big deal after a while. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZEzEuCJHsP-LIUar1JdU85u9PfZsF4P99Mfr3LyWCHRf1p1mS8VdxAG2e4fi0jk2NQlM5uFlLzdalWO1RJdj68_7zjMqjqDaTA6gpXIiMKjnmbj16aLL6uulsW35NdJExaS43KHpNmgI/s1600/KSC1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZEzEuCJHsP-LIUar1JdU85u9PfZsF4P99Mfr3LyWCHRf1p1mS8VdxAG2e4fi0jk2NQlM5uFlLzdalWO1RJdj68_7zjMqjqDaTA6gpXIiMKjnmbj16aLL6uulsW35NdJExaS43KHpNmgI/s1600/KSC1.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></div>
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As you can tell from these pictures, well, my sister and I weren't exactly enthused.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQblZKIy2L2tumSAG3Q3xRvoUgeODl03rj1-T0Il9QWuQWxQxP-IuaocduntgfQC2fudH93fSUJD9QPt1G9ccoVohVVNax68pSPQ-8Tz3Js_Ssnh9hvJmlYej_hvXSZc95X3pSF8haG0/s1600/KSC3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQblZKIy2L2tumSAG3Q3xRvoUgeODl03rj1-T0Il9QWuQWxQxP-IuaocduntgfQC2fudH93fSUJD9QPt1G9ccoVohVVNax68pSPQ-8Tz3Js_Ssnh9hvJmlYej_hvXSZc95X3pSF8haG0/s1600/KSC3.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></a></div>
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That's my Mom in the back. She really,<i> really</i>,<b style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;"> really</b> teased her hair. And the hairspray!!!! We would stick to the bathroom floor! Standing next to her is my grandfather's brother, Brooksie. I loved him so much. When he would come see us, he would pack his trunk with toys for all the kids in his neighborhood. I was so jealous of those kids! If you look really close, you can see he's got a cigarette in his hand. Hard to remember a time that was still allowed in public buildings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8w0wzQVUrf83LEjlnB5ZZH6yotjAWnaHGbeuYHudF8t5iTLUOo2pKdKyWpXaNUu7zmt5IV5Iqj31Wej8vQJDylBvnM_WSfR26OhkywU2OdgntmIfObenVLswZcs51n_jNNBpUEgazM4/s1600/KSC4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8w0wzQVUrf83LEjlnB5ZZH6yotjAWnaHGbeuYHudF8t5iTLUOo2pKdKyWpXaNUu7zmt5IV5Iqj31Wej8vQJDylBvnM_WSfR26OhkywU2OdgntmIfObenVLswZcs51n_jNNBpUEgazM4/s1600/KSC4.jpg" height="320" width="259" /></a></div>
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Ever the joker, when he went back home he called the local newspaper and told them that my Dad was the last to leave the rocket before the astronauts took off....they believed him....and they printed it!</div>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-289430526668269792014-05-29T19:10:00.000-04:002014-05-29T19:10:17.411-04:00More Thriftiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Every once in a while I get a text from someone telling me they were at a garage sale, saw some knitting stuff, thought of me and that's it. I appreciate the thought. It means somebody is paying attention and knows what I like. :) However, this past weekend I got one of those texts from my niece. She had been to an estate sale in her neighborhood and saw all kinds of knitting stuff and thought of me. I replied something along the line of "and you are sending it all to me and I'm eternally grateful?" Close. She said she was thinking of going back and getting some $5 afghans and would look at the knitting stuff if I wanted her to. Of course! Through a series of texts early Saturday morning, she sent pictures and asked questions. I don't really understand why the company handling the estate sale was selling the needles individually, but they were selling them and cheap! I gave her my price limit and she did all the rest. Wow! What else can I say, but Wow! This morning when the mailman rang my doorbell, I knew what was waiting for me and I was almost as excited as Harper when he sees the mailman. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcJ7HhR6KTtxIu0ib6e6-NmfnXnJLFeb3L0GhW8kH_8vr1DIronYuWUM92fA0u0ctQwryQ-TgP6Gk1U0FvG8aCVkwfYEGbX9WnGhGO3_qrrQzpTsePJsJKP3F6ZUoUnoeX7NtAXvxIKw/s1600/IMG_2378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcJ7HhR6KTtxIu0ib6e6-NmfnXnJLFeb3L0GhW8kH_8vr1DIronYuWUM92fA0u0ctQwryQ-TgP6Gk1U0FvG8aCVkwfYEGbX9WnGhGO3_qrrQzpTsePJsJKP3F6ZUoUnoeX7NtAXvxIKw/s1600/IMG_2378.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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This yarn also found it's way into the box. She told me I was going to have to send it back - in a different form! I think that can be arranged. Nine skeins for $3. Not bad at all. As soon as she tells me what her yarn wants to be when it grows up I'll get busy knitting it with some of my 'vintage' finds!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmfnHWjNT-8YqHwHnFx8cfSm_b0PTcZ3YVJBUbrHAq2-jdekLpZUY1Ca61Fmtr04ZFJ-fxECeRfjrk2j2aMdhLHiQrtTmDkPcHaS-4uwEyR-O5ZsFkgNWVOuyu08oH1CopZzkjs1k-fA/s1600/IMG_2379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmfnHWjNT-8YqHwHnFx8cfSm_b0PTcZ3YVJBUbrHAq2-jdekLpZUY1Ca61Fmtr04ZFJ-fxECeRfjrk2j2aMdhLHiQrtTmDkPcHaS-4uwEyR-O5ZsFkgNWVOuyu08oH1CopZzkjs1k-fA/s1600/IMG_2379.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-12741586461043478592014-05-28T21:11:00.000-04:002014-05-28T21:11:11.034-04:00Thrifty Find<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMu8sE7su7HxQGNVqLwTderW54dNkU0IudRcfWDMvFViZrEM7b5g52Sv1r_DjgwvIS_Vg-tPytD6YUdQ0FEU4to37DKS4rY8p5gNjNSOonzd0vB2_2eekTBNfte5q4_hY7OzMOtx2srI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMu8sE7su7HxQGNVqLwTderW54dNkU0IudRcfWDMvFViZrEM7b5g52Sv1r_DjgwvIS_Vg-tPytD6YUdQ0FEU4to37DKS4rY8p5gNjNSOonzd0vB2_2eekTBNfte5q4_hY7OzMOtx2srI/s1600/photo.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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Check out this thrifty find!</div>
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My future daughter-in-law found this through the thrift shop where her grandmother works. She sent a text and a picture to ask if I wanted it. YES! She sent another book on cleaning which was filled with some great ideas, but I'm a little partial to this book.... Just sayin. I will have to go through the stash and see if I can find something that will be perfect to knit a pair of socks using this book.</div>
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I'll have some more thrifty finds to share with you later this week. I got a text from my niece about an estate sale in her neck of the woods. Knitting needles! Yarn! Was I interested? YES! YES! YES! Those should be here any day now. I can't wait! She also threw in some yarn she wants sent back to her - in a different form. She's a clever one! ;)</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-40375205184094414682014-05-20T19:22:00.000-04:002014-05-20T19:22:13.670-04:00Knitting Goodness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
May has been a good month for knitting goodness. I finally finished another pair of socks. I have no idea how they turned out to be identical twins. It's rare when I'm able to do that! Once again, this yarn was hand dyed by my amazing Ravelry buddy, Aredhel. I think these were dyed with Easter egg dye. (Correct me if I'm wrong Aredhel.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXJoZlwkqnmWYT-7D0NxcnVO0yeN3p39Cw_54chQP3BMnsHynOmF18xWmK02PS00Pmy-RpNymyIJYqWpb4TKyAmbXy50UN9gwj1EpBp4gpVx2qfZfqwYWzWGNFX3ldwHor5J7rVj6zPY/s1600/IMG_2358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXJoZlwkqnmWYT-7D0NxcnVO0yeN3p39Cw_54chQP3BMnsHynOmF18xWmK02PS00Pmy-RpNymyIJYqWpb4TKyAmbXy50UN9gwj1EpBp4gpVx2qfZfqwYWzWGNFX3ldwHor5J7rVj6zPY/s1600/IMG_2358.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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Look at these great books! We have a discount store in our town called "Ollie's". You might have one too. If you do - go check them out. I'll wait......</div>
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You will find a bunch of crap and then you will find WONDERFUL KNITTING BOOKS!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pDylBcUG4htAgb3paBUYbmCmglg-PGlCaTPbWZIDDbO-UQhOHVj-bOntzNBGTkqvjqjEIcL_Ra9wRZJzg6Yr9cfdtu_wnzRSX-yAZdWyF1UPyTJlVxS_L6Ft-YObQHuPgOF0x6s3U1I/s1600/IMG_2360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pDylBcUG4htAgb3paBUYbmCmglg-PGlCaTPbWZIDDbO-UQhOHVj-bOntzNBGTkqvjqjEIcL_Ra9wRZJzg6Yr9cfdtu_wnzRSX-yAZdWyF1UPyTJlVxS_L6Ft-YObQHuPgOF0x6s3U1I/s1600/IMG_2360.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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What makes them so wonderful? Well, besides the fact that they are current and of interest.....they are cheap!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibchRPr83XYZseAPlIIaAgK71PEAVgl02RVwWUMjMDGlzp6yEdtosKwUr8eTcN5Mdc-S3udzwUMSWiiXdlENWlj_YS7kv4-l0zWtkevSbiBduPivKTQk0MFfdR92rsb-cHLPEKW4M4R_Y/s1600/IMG_2362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibchRPr83XYZseAPlIIaAgK71PEAVgl02RVwWUMjMDGlzp6yEdtosKwUr8eTcN5Mdc-S3udzwUMSWiiXdlENWlj_YS7kv4-l0zWtkevSbiBduPivKTQk0MFfdR92rsb-cHLPEKW4M4R_Y/s1600/IMG_2362.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Check out those prices! I don't know when on earth I'll ever have a baby in my life to knit for, but for $3.99 I'm willing to buy the book and wait! Bean is into Fair Isle and I am into socks, so I knew I had to buy those.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjLspdZoX6zgSmyKm6BiLhESQ_JQIatOHy_1RKQTOqOyGn2j41zW93C5VlanIckWh8dRWGGWBGLagX_9xQ4al5bhhHBo80XBU3XiQnZyuBOVZRzNuaROFTinU6pjZT3y44PuRdjAnRTk/s1600/IMG_2363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjLspdZoX6zgSmyKm6BiLhESQ_JQIatOHy_1RKQTOqOyGn2j41zW93C5VlanIckWh8dRWGGWBGLagX_9xQ4al5bhhHBo80XBU3XiQnZyuBOVZRzNuaROFTinU6pjZT3y44PuRdjAnRTk/s1600/IMG_2363.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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This sweet little thing came to live with me for Mother's Day. I have been admiring the little sheep they have at Plow and Hearth. Apparently somebody has been listening more than I realized I had been talking! </div>
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What a wonderful surprise! Now....where to put it????</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRGcinWAFJuBjrXHUpdpn8sw8ue5-SeErR9dgy7NmLIo4cvbClSByvKu2-EAZKGhYnRuLIVn1spJRdhrX5QSw5DdTtxYewuwEVgXalcdXY13_k-zxjQHkef6fgVNfSwG2GmtTMCEQb2Q/s1600/IMG_2364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRGcinWAFJuBjrXHUpdpn8sw8ue5-SeErR9dgy7NmLIo4cvbClSByvKu2-EAZKGhYnRuLIVn1spJRdhrX5QSw5DdTtxYewuwEVgXalcdXY13_k-zxjQHkef6fgVNfSwG2GmtTMCEQb2Q/s1600/IMG_2364.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-70871235750827197472014-05-09T20:48:00.000-04:002014-05-09T20:48:55.331-04:00Blogger is a Booger!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have had a terrible time getting Blogger to work for me since I downloaded Internet Explorer 11. I didn't have a lot of time for blogger for a while, so when it wasn't working I threw in the towel! But my life has changed tremendously (well, I think it has) in the past eight months or so and I finally had the time to mess with Blogger.</div>
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Where do I begin???? Some of you may know that my Mom has Alzheimer's. My Dad died in 2009 and Mom's symptoms started to really show. Doctor visits were not helpful. We thought she was grieving terribly. Finally after grief counselling and more doctor visits, she was found to have Alzheimer's. She was able to live alone for a long time, all things considered. Then we started noticing things were getting worse. The nurses who came to visit her twice a week had been telling us for months that she should not live alone. Mom, her sister and father had taken care of her mother when she had Alzheimer's. I just naturally assumed if Mom ever had it, that is what we would do. Easier said than done. I applaud those who are actually able to successfully be caregivers 100% of the time. I couldn't. </div>
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We had a few major setbacks and were pushed into a corner of finding full time care for her. I cried. We did research. I cried. We went to support groups. I cried. We consulted with family. I cried. We toured facilities. I cried. We hired a lawyer to help us buy more time. I cried. We went to therapy. I cried. We were given an ultimatum. I cried.</div>
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As you can see, I cried <u>a lot</u>. Finally, we exhausted all of our options. We were faced with the only decision we had and that was a facility I was not wild about. I had heard rumors through our support group and I was scared to death. So, two weeks before Christmas, we had to place Mom. (I cried.) It was the first Christmas in almost 50 years I had not spent with Mom. They recommended we give her two weeks to adjust and that meant not going to see her at all. I called daily. Sometimes they called us if there were problems, and there <i>were</i> problems. When we went to see her the first time she seemed adjusted. She didn't know who we were until we actually spoke to her even though she was looking directly at us. (I didn't cry then. I waited until we were in the car.) I wish she was in a state of the art facility with a 1:1 nurse to patient ratio, but that's impossible to find. I try to see her at least twice a week. That doesn't always work out. I don't think she knows how often I come. Even when I come often, she asks me to come <i>more </i>often. Some of the nurses are super, some not so super. It's an older facility, so there are things needing repairs. Mom is clean when I see her and always in clean clothes. She loses her glasses, but that appears to be a normal thing around there as it was here before she moved. She goes on field trips out to breakfast with a small group the Activity Director feels will enjoy it. She's been to the movies too! I tease her that she has a more active social life than I do.</div>
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I still see a therapist who is affiliated with the memory center to help with all the adjustments. I've been encouraged to resume old hobbies. So I am knitting again!!!! Wow! Have I missed knitting! </div>
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See the socks I made? My dear friend from Ravelry dyed the yarn for me sometime back and I finally got around to using it. I opted for my simple old generic pattern to help me find my groove. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX7ilFFQItNFBYF2LwL94nSLQ0PTPvZ1hTTNax-RAe9Uf_RioTRUY1vX86lwg5fqkhyphenhyphenLl76ZepgUfqJqF7mwux8ytpbORFUfD8QwyJZoTrmNXqZ5cXUyYcuqJGepG9caoRzFABVCmgsM/s1600/IMG_2269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX7ilFFQItNFBYF2LwL94nSLQ0PTPvZ1hTTNax-RAe9Uf_RioTRUY1vX86lwg5fqkhyphenhyphenLl76ZepgUfqJqF7mwux8ytpbORFUfD8QwyJZoTrmNXqZ5cXUyYcuqJGepG9caoRzFABVCmgsM/s1600/IMG_2269.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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My son's girlfriend started designing embroidery patterns and asked me to test one for her.</div>
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So I did! If you want to make your own, you can order a pattern here: <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/176760546/fox-pdf-embroidery-pattern?ref=sr_gallery_16&ga_search_query=embroidery+patterns+fox&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery">Fox Embroidery Pattern</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-2go6Y_8eWNpXcp_gL7Mx0DNHpqGZfRhTdHvUqhS5j-nV4XgOUgk3oojNrtIxyrJIkkgHwNwmNoLFq3UW9yhyXtwAeHsK27MSpBN0LKoG-PkFZjv0L42jxLZkIQLtZnoh4IfFfS_nfI/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-2go6Y_8eWNpXcp_gL7Mx0DNHpqGZfRhTdHvUqhS5j-nV4XgOUgk3oojNrtIxyrJIkkgHwNwmNoLFq3UW9yhyXtwAeHsK27MSpBN0LKoG-PkFZjv0L42jxLZkIQLtZnoh4IfFfS_nfI/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Then my sister-in-law saw a pattern for a mermaid pattern. She <i><b>had</b></i> to show it to our niece-in-law who happens to LOVE mermaids. And since I am the only knitter in the family, I had the honor of making it for sweet little Delaney. She wore it in her six month pictures at the beach, but this was a quick pic her Mom took shortly after she got it in the mail. I love it! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVaPQkSRs-c8zlOijDch5I_42cCxjdgHxXWequmBrvyVPV3lDn1a3A89-4xGcEIohoQ0-rT87h1QduGeGJJaQWZbs6y2qGIa_DBI4rcbjJZmtPWKU82FVcweH9NcFhOoAprnpS6Nptuc/s1600/894049_10203431114444858_321763095_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVaPQkSRs-c8zlOijDch5I_42cCxjdgHxXWequmBrvyVPV3lDn1a3A89-4xGcEIohoQ0-rT87h1QduGeGJJaQWZbs6y2qGIa_DBI4rcbjJZmtPWKU82FVcweH9NcFhOoAprnpS6Nptuc/s1600/894049_10203431114444858_321763095_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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All of that to let you know that I am still alive and well. That I am still knitting and doing all other sorts of crafts that I love to do. That I am going to do my best to update much more often. And that I can always use prayers for my family as we still adjust to the new changes in our lives. Thanks!</div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-33346901635988631532014-04-29T17:44:00.000-04:002014-04-29T17:44:31.047-04:00I'm Still HereI have been wracking my brain trying to get blogger to work the way I want it to so I can update the whole look of this blog. However, it hasn't been cooperating. So, while I work that out, I hope you can be patient and I'll try to do better at posting!knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-9872437519834852512013-08-03T02:50:00.000-04:002013-08-03T02:50:26.669-04:00EZ - Yes, Easy - No!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Bean wanted to knit along with Elizabeth Zimmerman's book <u>The Knitter's Almanac</u>. She asked me to join her and I agreed to join her several times. It never got beyond the agreement part though. We wouldn't start at the beginning in January. We would jump in and knit the May mittens. She wanted to knit her mittens in Noro. Not having Noro, we <u><em><strong>had</strong></em></u> to go the knitting store. Oh the sacrifices I make for my girl. Then she started knitting. Needle sizes were changed. Stitches were ripped out. Needle sizes were changed again. Stitches were ripped out again. May was coming to an end. Yes, I joined her. No, you cannot see my mittens. Why? Because I didn't finish my mittens! Luckily I used stash yarn, so I didn't waste any money - if you call buying yarn a waste of money!</div>
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It is rare for me not to finish a knitting project I start. I'm one of those really weird knitters who only knit one project at a time. My heart was not in these mittens, so they are sitting in a box waiting to either be finished or frogged.</div>
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Bean's mittens got finished though! They are beautiful. She decided to take pictures of them at Old Salem. She took pictures on the beautiful old brick sidewalks but the colors didn't show true. This one was taken in the parking lot behind the car. Knitting photographers and their photo ops! But I think this is a really cool picture. As soon as she weaves the ends in, she can stick a fork in them because she will be done!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDyguBl3DItkRVtsWB6XJ_kQy6XFgQPcyk8nJDWyyh8yxnnaNCj3X9FK96ryxwUdegQxOEgLZw9g61E7iQ8aXv_-oRm0eUY5YG_cBMnJ_o8yTuQS90RFOx8_5fSH7JHLKKfPlFDpkWiVU/s1600/IMG_1867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDyguBl3DItkRVtsWB6XJ_kQy6XFgQPcyk8nJDWyyh8yxnnaNCj3X9FK96ryxwUdegQxOEgLZw9g61E7iQ8aXv_-oRm0eUY5YG_cBMnJ_o8yTuQS90RFOx8_5fSH7JHLKKfPlFDpkWiVU/s400/IMG_1867.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-8318135774356157582013-07-11T20:05:00.000-04:002013-07-11T20:05:13.071-04:00Harper's 4th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My Grandma is letting me do the blog today. I feel like "Dog With a Blog"!</div>
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My Mom made her brother a patriotic bow tie, but he doesn't wear it.</div>
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My Mom thinks I look 'dashing' in it.</div>
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I got to wear it for the 4th of July.</div>
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Here I'm being 'cool.'</div>
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Here are my patriotic poses.</div>
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I'm being 'thoughtful' looking at the flag.</div>
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Here I'm introspective.</div>
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There you go sweet thang! Hope you had a good 4th too.</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-61270453899380283772013-06-30T15:52:00.001-04:002013-06-30T15:52:40.772-04:00Children's Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bean and I found ourselves in Old Salem last Thursday.</div>
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Well, we didn't exactly <em><strong>find</strong></em> ourselves there. We went there with a purpose.</div>
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I love to wander the shops. They are actually setting up Christmas now! In some ways that scares me to death, but in other ways it's exciting. We walked through all the future Christmas displays and the Moravian items. Then we went downstairs to see the books and children's section.</div>
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I don't think I have ever stopped loving children's books, even though I have two grown kids. And when a children's book is mixed with a love of knitting - well, let's just say it's heavenly to me!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZtvCntSLV2xHpPZpFF4JQxfL-59KrwzrCTsnRPLY_arOgX18FfIvPPOTSO5kZWN1W61XQoG7qFHvpgXJO1K77O5xWmceq4CfyYiQSgc_Ej_x3GSMRqhCF9KJdcqfiok6EQ2lukiq1P8/s260/knitty+kitty.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/books/dp/076364966X">http://www.amazon.com/books/dp/076364966X</a></td></tr>
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This book just screamed that it wanted to come home with me. Of course I <em><strong>had</strong></em> to oblige. The illustrations are so cute. And a mama kitty who knits is right up my alley. Since I don't have any little ones to read to anymore, I read to Harper. I don't think he was as into it as I was. He's got this things for cats, you see. But he does have a thing for yarn, so he was able to at least tolerate the book, when he wasn't trying to eat it.</div>
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Somehow this next book also found it's way home with us.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMh6jzH3WgHnoHQMIqJe_JJF6SG8UR5IATJBnIMPSp9LFzq_HtXgM4anWncaJ6oMLi-Nh0cLcrW2K1u4EVLBI91mRIg5kshW9E8St4K2NGTIhF5RvxM5C72DXapBibLv6NZG5JI8N8jo/s260/Dom+DeLuise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMh6jzH3WgHnoHQMIqJe_JJF6SG8UR5IATJBnIMPSp9LFzq_HtXgM4anWncaJ6oMLi-Nh0cLcrW2K1u4EVLBI91mRIg5kshW9E8St4K2NGTIhF5RvxM5C72DXapBibLv6NZG5JI8N8jo/s260/Dom+DeLuise.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/King-Bobs-New-Clothes-Deluise/dp/0689830505/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372621478&sr=1-14&keywords=dom+deluise">http://www.amazon.com/King-Bobs-New-Clothes-Deluise/dp/0689830505/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372621478&sr=1-14&keywords=dom+deluise</a></td></tr>
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I love his books! We have several of them and the kids have always enjoyed them. I have to admit that I read this one aloud to anyone who would listen. Bean didn't seem to mind! He was such a good author. He didn't 'speak' down to the kids for whom he was writing and he also includes a couple of recipes in the back.</div>
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And that concludes today's book review.</div>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-69169815322483361032013-06-27T21:08:00.000-04:002013-06-27T21:10:56.644-04:00Do You Know How Much I Love My Therapist?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHX7CDFiFxuUzeuJF4ULD6AjmYQlnv1RlXFM46tEPjBJLLLz2hZrPprlblXtyfsgvejKvi7M6cy9rXUq4hXi3f0eI9jRUuGl0PAeKdBTCke81hMBCH3NlPCyj_cZg38v5auRWUknRy_s/s1600/1706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHX7CDFiFxuUzeuJF4ULD6AjmYQlnv1RlXFM46tEPjBJLLLz2hZrPprlblXtyfsgvejKvi7M6cy9rXUq4hXi3f0eI9jRUuGl0PAeKdBTCke81hMBCH3NlPCyj_cZg38v5auRWUknRy_s/s400/1706.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I love my therapist a whole bunch!</div>
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For a year I have been going to therapy almost every Thursday afternoon at Wake Forest. It is a free service that is provided to caregivers of Alzheimer's patients.</div>
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I started going about two years ago. My first therapist was actually a student at Wake Forest. However, he graduated and was thrust out into the real world and didn't leave a forwarding address! :)</div>
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After he left me (sniff, sniff) a new therapist came in who wasn't a student. So.....I started seeing him on a weekly basis. We had a great deal in common. One thing that really made a connection for me is that he is a native Floridian and I am a native Floridian. However, one major thing we DO NOT HAVE IN COMMON - he is a University of Florida alumni and I am a Florida State fan. We worked through our 'differences' so the whole therapy thing would be productive. Once he wore khaki pants and a garnet shirt. I complimented him on his FSU outfit. Ruined his whole day! HA!</div>
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With therapy coming to an end, I wanted to make something for him. He knew I was a knitter and it was my own little kind of therapy, so I decided to knit him some dishcloths.....in HIS school colors. Yes, it was the ultimate sacrifice for me. It didn't go unnoticed today when I gave them to him. He asked me how I managed. I let him know I did throw up a little in my mouth, but I got over it. He understands.....it's his job to!</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-21674698502056643302013-06-25T15:07:00.000-04:002013-06-25T15:07:09.305-04:00Hey! It's My Birthday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HP8-K6dfxgahIHJovWzPm06Z9iq4G708Bpil4bkqk9xYW4optrq1cyjf25foGGPUswTEWvgG-h7YOBQLtKTy6LFbXbX0pIe4Wm84pWOcV89IU9Iia9NqHkTcBlxEJEPVJ03CV5oJHXw/s1600/IMG_0394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HP8-K6dfxgahIHJovWzPm06Z9iq4G708Bpil4bkqk9xYW4optrq1cyjf25foGGPUswTEWvgG-h7YOBQLtKTy6LFbXbX0pIe4Wm84pWOcV89IU9Iia9NqHkTcBlxEJEPVJ03CV5oJHXw/s400/IMG_0394.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Hey you!</div>
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You there!</div>
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Today is my birthday.</div>
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I am two!</div>
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This is what my life has been like since I was adopted.</div>
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Sometimes my Mom kisses me and leaves lipstick on my head!</div>
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Sometimes my Mom will open the window so I can watch the squirrels in my yard. Stupid squirrels.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5C_I1GlOhkaOoDgGOowA327baNdcG3N4tLg9PD008wEqzOH-8hZ3i1kBeTo57mmyi-qLW_IH0sBsOtUkEAJ5hEmWsH2W4k5DX4vLDCpPchSflrA5EU1AxdvcLsJSjxQ4AUn4Fu8cZ3XY/s1600/IMG_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5C_I1GlOhkaOoDgGOowA327baNdcG3N4tLg9PD008wEqzOH-8hZ3i1kBeTo57mmyi-qLW_IH0sBsOtUkEAJ5hEmWsH2W4k5DX4vLDCpPchSflrA5EU1AxdvcLsJSjxQ4AUn4Fu8cZ3XY/s400/IMG_0888.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Sometimes I am a gentleman and will shake my grandma's hand....but sometimes I just like to bite it instead!</div>
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Sometimes I can be suave.</div>
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When my Uncle still lived at home, I liked computer time with him.</div>
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When my Great Granny comes over, I like to take naps next to her. See my toys on the floor? I like to keep them right where I can see them!</div>
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Sometimes they take me outside when there is white stuff on the ground. I like to eat that white stuff. Hey! Where is that white stuff now?</div>
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Sometimes I like to hang upside down and pretend I am a bat!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN6HnhwEDmaRJ7Qc_WxXcE0WGih32tv4xHjX-TsXZTtEDZPd21J-eeY-jsfozLSbi9QUin8cUhzjNkruDAemRzSbZYR_MhnWdy0lpGV7FvmeVg_aOuPOQ0bX-7tTg8LbMV3_OAgbhsQY/s1600/IMG_0640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN6HnhwEDmaRJ7Qc_WxXcE0WGih32tv4xHjX-TsXZTtEDZPd21J-eeY-jsfozLSbi9QUin8cUhzjNkruDAemRzSbZYR_MhnWdy0lpGV7FvmeVg_aOuPOQ0bX-7tTg8LbMV3_OAgbhsQY/s400/IMG_0640.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yum! I taste pretty good!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjIV1BXn-uSAbIdhAVkwT2W0FfIylpXL1sVap5iFkAOfGiP5WCcW96BgHuC6KeOanq0VDL2X_xNfzNG65vnhHsZy5AGlpcH-XjkLspw0DlAKQsz-6Q7kFvWCPFTePDB3ZiCMbJQY-ncc/s1600/IMG_0321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjIV1BXn-uSAbIdhAVkwT2W0FfIylpXL1sVap5iFkAOfGiP5WCcW96BgHuC6KeOanq0VDL2X_xNfzNG65vnhHsZy5AGlpcH-XjkLspw0DlAKQsz-6Q7kFvWCPFTePDB3ZiCMbJQY-ncc/s400/IMG_0321.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Sometimes I like to party.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtK_HUcYNPp9_TVWJIwtys3_mBOcSLTuSnAOpRs510P41PW0c-HrDxHDJd21kw3QJ7SM9A9GLBloNZSagFeT0xVKY3_A4K_QJme-PjqkzeQdkACuixiv5hxSFi-0fzIXMx-99EbMi3Ko/s1600/IMG_0331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtK_HUcYNPp9_TVWJIwtys3_mBOcSLTuSnAOpRs510P41PW0c-HrDxHDJd21kw3QJ7SM9A9GLBloNZSagFeT0xVKY3_A4K_QJme-PjqkzeQdkACuixiv5hxSFi-0fzIXMx-99EbMi3Ko/s400/IMG_0331.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Happy Birthday to me!</div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-64247268722164649542013-06-23T02:09:00.000-04:002013-06-23T02:09:51.812-04:00Birthday Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I mentioned on my birthday post that I got a couple of books from Barnes and Noble. I wanted to share what they were, but I'm new to posting pictures from other sites. I hope I did it right. (Is it okay to buy books from Barnes and Noble, but post pictures from Amazon? Yeah, I though so.) </div>
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A month or two ago I found Ree Drummond's book: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xFMQe68qsCQvtck9jvwuDKuU2nwa-fe5qUlbsXFEPktZfZPG9Da1todxCZorA_t8_Dvf5C5UnXj7gQ_j4hy_6AUUcnT8ySCvznWfzJteONm1TTuAj0EFPqAUe6A44A2NVPBdGmDngbY/s1600/51aT4zt82YL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp,TopRight,12,-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xFMQe68qsCQvtck9jvwuDKuU2nwa-fe5qUlbsXFEPktZfZPG9Da1todxCZorA_t8_Dvf5C5UnXj7gQ_j4hy_6AUUcnT8ySCvznWfzJteONm1TTuAj0EFPqAUe6A44A2NVPBdGmDngbY/s320/51aT4zt82YL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp,TopRight,12,-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was in the clearance section for under $6! I couldn't pass it up, but I wasn't sure I wanted to read it right away. Then I pulled neck - or so I thought - and had time on my hands. Perfect reading opportunity. Man, what a great book! Some nights I read parts of it to Bean while she knitted. I think she enjoyed it as much as I did. Their love story reminded me what a special relationship I have with Ran. So....when my birthday came along and Ran told me to get whatever I wanted, I jumped at the chance to get one of her recipe books.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxt0eSatPMcKFJsQl3wBKLT67EFadfo6tMnfYtqj5O8YhG3TcnkwypK7uA5PeFUA2t8pzrhLF2N1pi-S-_JJF9-eK-ZldmIF_5rmIxUsMl5vYC8pyxkfOhE030whLxv9xO6fhytQx2EyY/s1600/51pgZ9NueeL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxt0eSatPMcKFJsQl3wBKLT67EFadfo6tMnfYtqj5O8YhG3TcnkwypK7uA5PeFUA2t8pzrhLF2N1pi-S-_JJF9-eK-ZldmIF_5rmIxUsMl5vYC8pyxkfOhE030whLxv9xO6fhytQx2EyY/s320/51pgZ9NueeL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I think the thing I like the most about this recipe book, well, besides who it's written by, the photography, yadda, yadda, yadda.... would be the great recipes. So many of them are definitely on my list to try. I found one recipe on her website that I've already tried: <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2011/05/knock-you-naked-brownies/">Knock You Naked Brownies</a>.</div>
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They didn't turn out as pretty as hers, but I don't recall anybody complaining!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzdHBEP5IDSxaDUEXh9pbzYhXPz8jnwiy4fP95WtHDLC-0LvBiYJ3S8CXY-dXyLDgYHwHOGQde2ZKlrWOUc-wXYDwZ_wo9kYr17Lsg5JI-QIj1B8r49fa_1sBuVO6LP7eFr_5hpCHD3Q/s1600/51i%252BM3lhwTL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzdHBEP5IDSxaDUEXh9pbzYhXPz8jnwiy4fP95WtHDLC-0LvBiYJ3S8CXY-dXyLDgYHwHOGQde2ZKlrWOUc-wXYDwZ_wo9kYr17Lsg5JI-QIj1B8r49fa_1sBuVO6LP7eFr_5hpCHD3Q/s320/51i%252BM3lhwTL__SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp%252CTopRight%252C12%252C-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I cannot wait to make something out of this book! I have been admiring it online since it was published. I have soooooo many fat quarters around this house that are crying out to be used. I sure hope this book provides that opportunity. I've got to get those fat quarters to quit crying. My sock yarn can't stand the competition.</div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-38369269358335514772013-06-21T01:10:00.001-04:002013-06-21T01:10:36.833-04:00CRASH - Morning Has Broken!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My boyby is in Florida visiting his girlfriend and her family. He left for a two week visit, waaaaaay back on March 30. I haven't seen him yet. Well, if you don't count Skype. And I don't count Skype! Boyby and his girl have an etsy business and when they are together they are brainstorming, designing, printing, packaging and shipping. Plus her Dad has an etsy business and they also work for him. I miss him like crazy and carry on about my baby being gone and boo hoo hoo until everybody - E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y - around me is sick of it. I finally reached a point where I dried up, sucked it up and get on with life. I realize he'll be home when he's good and ready and if they aren't ready to throw him out on the street, he must be a half way decent houseguest and that's got to make a Mom proud.</div>
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So....when I got a phone call this morning that woke me up....and it was him.....and he starts the conversation off with something like, "Hey Mom. Don't worry. Everything is okay." Well, it gets this Moms heart jumping. Then when the next line is, "Could you please scan my insurance card and e-mail it to me?" the heart stops jumping. It just kind of stops in general. </div>
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He needed to see a doctor because he was feeling bad. He was right, it was no big deal. Everything was okay. However, I am almost 600 miles away from him. Never mind that he is 22. Never mind that he is a grown man. He's my BABY!</div>
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I wanted to jump in the car and get down their NOW! I wanted to get on the next airplane!</div>
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What was I going to do once I got down there? Who has time to think things through?!?</div>
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I do. And that's what I did. I called my sister. Somehow she can get me out of panic mode and into semi panic mode. She has three grown boys and a wealth of knowledge. A prayer request was made that all would be well.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3x6ajR_WuR-dmEDpyvPPVcbwaNB0RSMkKjyBxqgelzKkx050_3SWa2l6VpaPaTBwndRfkje0dkDKwkDLKLz4yoo7qFX5dtLlggcCddrBjDCvFxPank-q5JyixKe1XDhR3RFrGwQMFf_c/s1600/561950_4371989632323_2130872046_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3x6ajR_WuR-dmEDpyvPPVcbwaNB0RSMkKjyBxqgelzKkx050_3SWa2l6VpaPaTBwndRfkje0dkDKwkDLKLz4yoo7qFX5dtLlggcCddrBjDCvFxPank-q5JyixKe1XDhR3RFrGwQMFf_c/s400/561950_4371989632323_2130872046_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My boyby and his girlby last October at Pilot Mountain.</td></tr>
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And you know what? It was well. He got to see a doctor right away. Prescription was filled. And he is in good hands. His girl has got the situation under control. Sometimes it's not easy to let go and let someone else take our place, but sometimes it's just what's needed. I think it's all gonna be just fine. </div>
<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-52068183757318282322013-06-19T21:20:00.001-04:002013-06-19T21:20:31.868-04:0049?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 49. Not 49 and holding. Not the anniversary of my 49th birthday. Just plain old 49 for the first time - but maybe not the last!</div>
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Ran and Bean took me to the best restaurant!</div>
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<a href="http://www.sweetpotatoes.ws/">Sweet Potatoes</a> in Winston-Salem.</div>
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Ran and I had the opportunity to get to know the owners of this place and they are fabulous people. Their attention to detail is evident.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbtW8ntLHe8nat1uMBkxnGsj9lQ9Oq28t50uXPknZpbt6LcgsVZYxLAwMhT7qcNUztF2-rg2MJmu1CtcncMnf8rjKkNj4-S6ujvIl7PoUOaZpBhv1v3D2p2KgZeRPOea-lI_NFkhY-fY/s1600/IMG_1231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbtW8ntLHe8nat1uMBkxnGsj9lQ9Oq28t50uXPknZpbt6LcgsVZYxLAwMhT7qcNUztF2-rg2MJmu1CtcncMnf8rjKkNj4-S6ujvIl7PoUOaZpBhv1v3D2p2KgZeRPOea-lI_NFkhY-fY/s400/IMG_1231.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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While we were downtown we couldn't just eat and run. It's rare when we are there, so we had to walk around and take in the sites.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNdryWjaBBWbVIP54LT2JvQ5d10HrT2C-OFAM4MzuzlzBlVOT6UtzMIuA17OElthGYW8GIAD_rQXKpk_MgvL7jreswX7mNNCVaIjdDvYsEXOnNwu4gKoQU81ZfjxTp73C4cc4DSHU8So/s1600/IMG_1222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNdryWjaBBWbVIP54LT2JvQ5d10HrT2C-OFAM4MzuzlzBlVOT6UtzMIuA17OElthGYW8GIAD_rQXKpk_MgvL7jreswX7mNNCVaIjdDvYsEXOnNwu4gKoQU81ZfjxTp73C4cc4DSHU8So/s400/IMG_1222.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The side of Sweet Potatoes.<br />
Looks like a sweet like oasis in the middle of town.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmYqxWY38KDChX-_OcZgOnJT3Cr7qRlWCv8Er631_jBPXP31HXxCOhFrHRKaFZJGBD4WiB7xefMNMhflcHJM4wkuEVG69vwDtfvpN1mj4-rXhGJy2MrC8GlPrwiLGTbj6LujI0fTOtjs/s1600/IMG_1223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmYqxWY38KDChX-_OcZgOnJT3Cr7qRlWCv8Er631_jBPXP31HXxCOhFrHRKaFZJGBD4WiB7xefMNMhflcHJM4wkuEVG69vwDtfvpN1mj4-rXhGJy2MrC8GlPrwiLGTbj6LujI0fTOtjs/s400/IMG_1223.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roses growing next to Sweet Potatoes.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgddFmcmc6JQGwAo2xiX2CBAEAVgW5cSGyTPPlPFYOjn4TuPwLrMENL46xbiAmB9mKFp5EZrxBUfTlFXC6aVwP4uMoDRnkwq-vbVdV0rX_Ec6Oy4DqBXNTuG-TQoOGYsHZleGdLinKmE/s1600/IMG_1224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgddFmcmc6JQGwAo2xiX2CBAEAVgW5cSGyTPPlPFYOjn4TuPwLrMENL46xbiAmB9mKFp5EZrxBUfTlFXC6aVwP4uMoDRnkwq-vbVdV0rX_Ec6Oy4DqBXNTuG-TQoOGYsHZleGdLinKmE/s320/IMG_1224.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhufGNMSPhfO-kAtnAS731amSo3vcxPn7MvAhATyME8Gba98d2uFsNNPnNwjgU3Gcy6dz4Ej4QeKC-GZ9viRUsFEtZFIZ1TCR7B2RwSId0v4NOUajCAsCbVoyuGIQrvBhxRxntxSMkgac/s1600/IMG_1204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhufGNMSPhfO-kAtnAS731amSo3vcxPn7MvAhATyME8Gba98d2uFsNNPnNwjgU3Gcy6dz4Ej4QeKC-GZ9viRUsFEtZFIZ1TCR7B2RwSId0v4NOUajCAsCbVoyuGIQrvBhxRxntxSMkgac/s400/IMG_1204.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art? Graffiti? How about both?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQkfQSIJEA3z6Zx408wcce1nsKvj9kRCytm_f_tXKv8WTcgjnyXa4RY8OygOj1HSmq60XIminb8k2vQYOk4ZKVH_1tPfxBV4pfPaNuAaoG26sZPwgVh_Hnx7IIoL7YsIHyj4aRbNeCgc/s1600/IMG_1247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQkfQSIJEA3z6Zx408wcce1nsKvj9kRCytm_f_tXKv8WTcgjnyXa4RY8OygOj1HSmq60XIminb8k2vQYOk4ZKVH_1tPfxBV4pfPaNuAaoG26sZPwgVh_Hnx7IIoL7YsIHyj4aRbNeCgc/s400/IMG_1247.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fancy place to lock up your bike in front of a/perture</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6K4jc69iSXE-ha2o714PA17O0w9u69oMFwY0RPdd9O20lcND8OJ7ts4Ceay-LjTXjMwRYL0Wd1kahoqLFYabe1BbE2jKfjhDVFYCW58bVHapmsF5vt_Ooryjdi4AONm_BrY5t2a2nsiU/s1600/IMG_1276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6K4jc69iSXE-ha2o714PA17O0w9u69oMFwY0RPdd9O20lcND8OJ7ts4Ceay-LjTXjMwRYL0Wd1kahoqLFYabe1BbE2jKfjhDVFYCW58bVHapmsF5vt_Ooryjdi4AONm_BrY5t2a2nsiU/s400/IMG_1276.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherry Pie Bar. To Die For!<br />
A special treat from the Camino Bakery.</td></tr>
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<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-1520325188531039192013-06-18T02:40:00.002-04:002013-06-18T02:49:26.333-04:00Baby Knitting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It has been too long since there's been a baby in the family.</div>
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And that's a terrible thing because babies are fun to knit for!</div>
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The joys of baby knitting are endless.</div>
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You get to experiment with new techniques....</div>
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You can try a new yarn and not go broke....</div>
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When Randy's nephew and wife announced they were expecting I didn't think </div>
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"boy or girl?"</div>
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"due date?"</div>
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No. I thought,</div>
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"what can I knit for this baby?"</div>
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Out came all the baby knitting patterns books.</div>
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Ravelry was my new best friend.</div>
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Then I saw a blanket my <em>old</em> best friend, Karen, had been working on. She's been my best friend since junior high and has this great aunt thing totally under control. She and I started talking about the "Sweet Pea Blanket."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gbyVPyiGy67EKU87abv_mKpoRLhDqwuZMCA0T4JyGDvlMy2y-MGX4PZt-chmCULXEqVZHz_-FrNUBP4_38EqPJ-8W6lo67CQnQJqV7zOYS1UqmbOhyphenhyphenELBpxGQCxcV-yWLRVBG6wiy5M/s1600/IMG_1483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gbyVPyiGy67EKU87abv_mKpoRLhDqwuZMCA0T4JyGDvlMy2y-MGX4PZt-chmCULXEqVZHz_-FrNUBP4_38EqPJ-8W6lo67CQnQJqV7zOYS1UqmbOhyphenhyphenELBpxGQCxcV-yWLRVBG6wiy5M/s400/IMG_1483.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Ran's nephew and wife are POSITIVE, without a shadow of a doubt, 100%, ain't no way it's not happening that this baby is a girl. Now I know technology has come a long way since I had my babies, but sometimes ultrasounds can be wrong. I just didn't want to spend a great deal of time on an 'heirloom quality' - my words, not theirs - gift that was going to be the wrong color. I fondled a beautiful berry color, but settled on a creamy white.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9C4xLM9hBM6uLvfSevFQFVhPx_8O194L3-jzlAkSwvROvUcgrDWWj-SStA7d6t8a1kSDuhLpZxz7Rdgxz03AQqLglAK7HbZwsmmcWF-H-hHy8SoqzJqDpn4zvYgDTlw850g7h6rjHlrg/s1600/IMG_1487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9C4xLM9hBM6uLvfSevFQFVhPx_8O194L3-jzlAkSwvROvUcgrDWWj-SStA7d6t8a1kSDuhLpZxz7Rdgxz03AQqLglAK7HbZwsmmcWF-H-hHy8SoqzJqDpn4zvYgDTlw850g7h6rjHlrg/s400/IMG_1487.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I really love the way it ripples. The baby will be here in August - perfect blanket weather for a Florida baby, right? And whether it's a girl or a boy, the color will be just fine!</div>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-66962551944378336362013-03-18T14:40:00.000-04:002013-03-18T14:40:01.651-04:00I'm still here!<div align="center">
Have you given up on me?</div>
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I'm still here. Just having new stuff happening around me.</div>
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As many of you know, my Mom has Alzheimer's. She has her good days and she has her bad days. Dealing with her good days and bad days creates good days and bad days for my family. And dealing with all of that creates a great deal of stress. My Mom doesn't live with us and I don't know if she could. Our house is small and we cannot build on. Mom's house is small and we can't build on. It was suggested by my Mom's sister that we break up our household and have two of us live with Mom and two of us live in our house. A lot of people have good intentions, I'm sure, when discussing Alzheimer's and what YOU should do. However, not many of them are willing to actually help do the day to day stuff in the trenches. And, although I do not live with my Mom, I pick her up every day and bring her to my house for dinner, take her grocery shopping, keep up with her prescriptions, watch her take her pills daily, take care of her cats, take care of straightening up her house, arrange appointments, pay her bills, and deal with anything 'emergency' she has. The emergency can be anything from finding a TV remote, finding a channel on her television, plunging a toilet, finding a pair of glasses..... notice 'finding' is something we do a lot.</div>
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All of this is stressful. It would be nice to have an evening of just the four of us. It would be nice to go out to dinner and not feel guilty that Mom is not eating a decent meal that night. A vacation is totally out of the question. Traveling would be a nightmare. So, when there is traveling to be done, RL does it with one of the kids. His Mom was widowed the month before my Mom, so he tends to things she needs from time to time. She lives 600 miles away, so that involves more than a short drive or a visit for just an hour or so.</div>
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What can happen when you are stressed out and have no idea what to do next? Well, it can manifest itself in other ways. Thankfully, the memory clinic at our hospital has a wonderful support system and offers monthly support groups as well as counseling. We take advantage of whatever they have to offer when we can. However, that type of support can't take away ALL of the stress in our lives and stress can manifest itself in even more ways than mentally. </div>
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In October RL started having some pain in his shoulder. We didn't think too much of it. Thought maybe he had strained it or even slept funny. The pain didn't go away. It actually spread a little. Over his Thanksgiving vacation, we had a wonderful and relaxing week. Christmas was coming and we couldn't wait for the three week vacation he was going to take. He still had the aches and pains though. A trip to the doctor ruled out Rheumatoid Arthritis. Whew! Dodged a bullet there. Christmas vacation came and we had a decent two weeks. Then the day after Christmas, his pains got worse. His joints were sore. We noticed he had an increase in dandruff and it even looked to be in and behind his ear. Strange. His wrists got red and swollen. His right index finger swelled, not twice it's size, but got close. Then his knuckles on that hand started swelling. A trip to the doctor was in order again. More tests, a referral to a rheumatologist and some meds. In January we saw the rheumatologist and walked away with a diagnosis: Psoriatic Arthritis. X-rays have shown he already has damage to his joints. We had never heard of it. Sure, we had seen the commercials with Phil Mickelson, but never really paid attention because it wasn't something that affected us. RL hadn't even had symptoms of Psoriasis until maybe October. Guess what causes a flare up? Stress. Guess what we have in abundance? Stress.</div>
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So, we are dealing with it the best way we know how. He has started taking meds, has monthly blood work to make sure the meds are not messing with his liver, sees his Rheumatologist every few months, and has to rest quite a bit due to the side effects of the medication. </div>
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The reason I am putting this out there is because we really don't know anything about Psoriatic Arthritis besides what we've been told or can find on the internet. Apparently it's not extremely common. When we mention he has Arthritis, we hear, "Well, who doesn't? We all get it as we age." But this isn't that type of Arthritis. </div>
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So, if you know anything about it, please let us know. And if you don't know anything about it, we could sure use your prayers.</div>
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Thanks. </div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-52916022658406745742013-02-04T23:30:00.001-05:002013-02-04T23:30:56.231-05:00The Great Chicken Run 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our day started off very slow. We got out of bed late and were complaining about all chances of any fun or excitement were shot. As we were sitting around bemoaning our situation, Harper started barking. No cars out in the driveway. No kids playing in the street. No trucks going down the road. Upon closer examination, R found what he was barking at: Chickens! We live on a dead end road. In our cul de sac there is a seven acre lot which has never been built on. The family decided to put a garden, bees and chickens there though. Unfortunately, the family doesn't live in the immediate area. Due to 'No Tresspassing' signs we haven't ventured too far down that way. But that didn't stop the chickens from venturing up our way! First we thought we saw one, then three, then realized more roaming a neighbor's yard. She had pulled into her drive just as I was approaching and seemed more perturbed than helpful. So I became a chicken wrangler! How do you wrangle chickens? I've never had any experience with them. So I just started saying, "Here chicky, chicky." What do you know! They followed me - just like I was the Pied Piper! Seven chickens followed me down the lane to their chicken coop. R brought some bread with her to help lead them into their coop. Three were easily persuaded. One was touch and go - she would go in and then come back out. Three were not having anything to do with it! They were free range baby! I finally noticed a name on the no trespassing sign and looked them up on the computer. A phone call and they were on their way! We got four fresh eggs for our effort. It pays to be neighborly!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not yet, I'm still enjoying the great outdoors!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The three renegades who didn't want to return home.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally! All seven of them safely home.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chow time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our reward for the afternoon adventure.</td></tr>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-45539311006181395812013-01-25T15:31:00.000-05:002013-01-25T15:31:30.939-05:00Winter Mix<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A winter mix sounds somewhat nice. It could be a mix of Christmas music. Maybe it could be a mix of something good to eat like Chex mix. But no, it is the stuff of winter horror stories. Being a native Floridian I am fascinated by snow. I like to build snowmen and sled. I don't even mind driving in it. A winter mix scares me to death! Sleet and freezing rain aren't for me. However, Harper still has to go outside and tend to business. And he actually loves snow and ice. You can be freezing your buns off and watching your finger tips fall off and he'll be laying down eating the snow and ice! Dumb dog.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The little red bird on the mailbox is encased in ice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My car window. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn't look bad, but all those little pellets really add up to one slippery mess!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Harper's new sleeping spot. He thinks he's a cat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what he does when he's tired. Dumb dog!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CFPuOnN3_XyOH8N9MG4Igswad_CKMt-DsdoyVfaI1Qul8zKuO_-6Tj_iz84tlbDt1lOWcJ8pQnmi2aZ6RF8vQgAGqHrmbyIzhUnwtOAR_qRdA1D81vLEygy_wQPWQYRfDIv0rBbjhio/s1600/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CFPuOnN3_XyOH8N9MG4Igswad_CKMt-DsdoyVfaI1Qul8zKuO_-6Tj_iz84tlbDt1lOWcJ8pQnmi2aZ6RF8vQgAGqHrmbyIzhUnwtOAR_qRdA1D81vLEygy_wQPWQYRfDIv0rBbjhio/s320/IMG_0638.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He kinda looks like a bat, doesn't he?</td></tr>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-48860024606724146282013-01-21T21:45:00.000-05:002013-01-21T21:45:23.211-05:00Happy New Year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know, I know. I'm a little late wishing everyone a Happy New Year. This has been a long butt year and it's only the 21st! Since I last posted, we've had a lot of excitement, good and bad.</div>
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Late October, Ls girlfriend came to see us for a week. I would share pictures of that, but my computer crashed and took all those pictures with it! I'm working on getting our pictures off of the hard drive and when I do, I will share them. We had a wonderful time with her. While we were showing her all the neat things in the area, we got to see some sights we'd never seen before. She's a very sweet girl and we look forward to the day she is a part of our family officially.</div>
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Things calmed down just a wee bit so we could get geared up for the holidays. I stress the 'wee bit' part because it didn't really calm down much at all. Somewhere in December, L started having pain in his right jaw. The same jaw he had a wisdom tooth removed from in November of 2010. The same jaw he had the remainder of his wisdom tooth removed from in December of 2011. Or so we thought...... L had a flight planned to spend a week with his girlfriend's family in mid December, so we were eager to find out what was going on with that jaw. Off to our <strong><em>new</em></strong> dentist we went only to find out that the<em> <strong>old</strong></em> dentist had left the roots of that wisdom tooth in his mouth! We were furious! A week of antibiotics and a consultation with the oral surgeon were scheduled. His flight was delayed until after everything was taken care of. The morning of his surgery we were all a little nervous, but we were prepared. Five minutes after they took him back for the procedure they brought him back to us! He had some sort of an infection in his tonsils and they refused to do the surgery until it was cleared up. On the way home we went to our family doctor to find he had mono! So.....surgery was cancelled. Bed rest was ordered. We got creative with our Christmas activities since he wasn't able to do much but sleep. While he was sick, R got a flu that wasn't covered by her flu shot. A week later, she was doing better. Thank goodness she had Christmas spirit for our entire family! If it hadn't been for her, I don't know if our house would have been decorated. She got the tree decorated almost single handedly. She also kept us focused on getting all the other Christmas activities finished. It was a low key day. Mom spent the night with us and we shared our Christmas gifts and relaxed as well as we could. Christmas is very interesting since Mom has Alzheimer's. She used to really get into it, but it's just another day to her anymore.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVfC8uV-dWKusMSQKPQ1ORinmh-WoJOclgGreZrAlJ2_V-M1Wfnf2QIArouAbdbwH4_XDxPL4v6QyEMLJlMGX1aA-rdHmTjbYJN6v9iOy7exyKRudJyQ0z57IeZiY_7kO2TE-yr6KekU/s1600/IMG_0269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVfC8uV-dWKusMSQKPQ1ORinmh-WoJOclgGreZrAlJ2_V-M1Wfnf2QIArouAbdbwH4_XDxPL4v6QyEMLJlMGX1aA-rdHmTjbYJN6v9iOy7exyKRudJyQ0z57IeZiY_7kO2TE-yr6KekU/s400/IMG_0269.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R, or Bean as we call her, got this travel Scrabble game for her and me so we wouldn't have to worry about Harper messing up our tiles. This was spelled out for me when I opened it.</td></tr>
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Christmas day was also a tough day for RL. He started having some shoulder aches and pains in October which slowly started taking over other joints in his body. A trip to the doctor and some blood work told us it wasn't rheumatoid arthritis. However, the pain just got worse and turned into swelling in the wrists and fingers. Christmas day was the first day he was experiencing pain at it's worst. Another trip to the doctor and more blood work and still same conclusion. The doctor is leaning toward psoriatic arthritis now. We will know more after seeing a rheumatologist on the 14th.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZDO5cjRLehw80ZaKyijH2zw43l7fAGG_2CTSQyF4NG7x81pCa6i-45Tz1K0Z-tXUEYx5ir6ZAAuxvXJHwVXbcVpmGmlGleGkpN8T1cglGKzkUyKwYmWF-qBwrP_Bg-aDkxXzT6uQ9t0/s1600/IMG_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" class="separator" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZDO5cjRLehw80ZaKyijH2zw43l7fAGG_2CTSQyF4NG7x81pCa6i-45Tz1K0Z-tXUEYx5ir6ZAAuxvXJHwVXbcVpmGmlGleGkpN8T1cglGKzkUyKwYmWF-qBwrP_Bg-aDkxXzT6uQ9t0/s400/IMG_0099.JPG" div="div" height="300" style="text-align: center;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RL and his canine heating blanket during his arthritis flare up.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_q5LvWDjkkZ-RQaLDO6n0E7fToD0sVo0DgXaOKHhjHygypIIeK9GSlORubSm7vLjK9vT35G3dpu6NPq127w5rGJ2dXwyhyzGLP6f4Bt28HKXl7c03Kwc0En5NkUffB7nkNOixe54WN0/s1600/IMG_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_q5LvWDjkkZ-RQaLDO6n0E7fToD0sVo0DgXaOKHhjHygypIIeK9GSlORubSm7vLjK9vT35G3dpu6NPq127w5rGJ2dXwyhyzGLP6f4Bt28HKXl7c03Kwc0En5NkUffB7nkNOixe54WN0/s400/IMG_0008.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R got a new camera for Christmas as well as some great little bunny slippers! A lot of experimental photography has been going on!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMsde3A_JXiUQ2ojcrw3-MkmFQ3UURMbwIMPb-rGG0cAWs-3dKFPCQ1_pQ6ebOdgWcT1w7vv190iiQTuzabdeuvoo83QwHnQbciCejM6ytxqB3K4JLIv0z2g8g68M-Mo-5lIVC14cmkz8/s1600/IMG_0329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMsde3A_JXiUQ2ojcrw3-MkmFQ3UURMbwIMPb-rGG0cAWs-3dKFPCQ1_pQ6ebOdgWcT1w7vv190iiQTuzabdeuvoo83QwHnQbciCejM6ytxqB3K4JLIv0z2g8g68M-Mo-5lIVC14cmkz8/s400/IMG_0329.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R had her birthday last week. At least one party animal showed up!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuATSyONMDxumQMkpJWEYupHL-VNfx2N8yr9-FJ9MFYI60whUNmAlUyqwdNHKSkvm1OPg1Ml6MCqH8EVDKN7ucJ5zZz3t5WQxHF2NrGZOj0W42A3WWW6CJJi2e4MPdZnnDVeLvqO4GiM/s1600/IMG_0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuATSyONMDxumQMkpJWEYupHL-VNfx2N8yr9-FJ9MFYI60whUNmAlUyqwdNHKSkvm1OPg1Ml6MCqH8EVDKN7ucJ5zZz3t5WQxHF2NrGZOj0W42A3WWW6CJJi2e4MPdZnnDVeLvqO4GiM/s400/IMG_0112.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harper after a little too much excitement over the holidays.</td></tr>
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Everybody started feeling better, wisdom teeth have been removed, Christmas decorations have been put away and we are trying to move forward with this new year. </div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-65071198504564600142012-10-08T15:08:00.000-04:002012-10-08T15:08:23.450-04:00How Cold Is It?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDPrOLVapZce34oPsRtduM1Y9tHUPRavbiJQpUICClY4GrEokNHTg2MbQ98LUU9MKbJhyphenhyphenPSKAzKAcLjI178fjg4ZdCs2XPHTvvlKKnCLDLuWwNAcRSTJvEpA-ViX8TDnL3W3E4R9Jfs4/s1600/IMG_7577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDPrOLVapZce34oPsRtduM1Y9tHUPRavbiJQpUICClY4GrEokNHTg2MbQ98LUU9MKbJhyphenhyphenPSKAzKAcLjI178fjg4ZdCs2XPHTvvlKKnCLDLuWwNAcRSTJvEpA-ViX8TDnL3W3E4R9Jfs4/s320/IMG_7577.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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It is SOOO cold, Harper is wearing a hoodie! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqB_PfxY7h4ES3sEAynav2oDH5d2Yrxvfvva71P39ZyKB0-GujQt7Zf2ZUtdVF7D7qeuej_A4lme6SpAj1O8DWC7vVKdCJPnmtOy9CcWAX6Ik7oTN7z4QeSXjRG4zoY98HIgObDnlgqE/s1600/IMG_7579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqB_PfxY7h4ES3sEAynav2oDH5d2Yrxvfvva71P39ZyKB0-GujQt7Zf2ZUtdVF7D7qeuej_A4lme6SpAj1O8DWC7vVKdCJPnmtOy9CcWAX6Ik7oTN7z4QeSXjRG4zoY98HIgObDnlgqE/s320/IMG_7579.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-80653446580910851562012-10-01T23:25:00.000-04:002012-10-01T23:25:04.776-04:00It's Just One Big Freakin' Surprise After Another<div align="center">
Two months ago, August 13th to be exact, I went to my regular doctor. I had been stung by something. While I was there I asked to have a spot on my chest checked out. It was about the size of a pencil eraser, flat, red and flaky. The doctor asked if I had ever been to a dermatologist. No, never had a reason to go. Well, apparently I now had a reason to go. I'm freaking out about this red, scaly thing. What is it? Am I gonna die? Why do I have to see a dermatologist? Can't the doctor just give me something to put on it? Yeah, I'm like that.</div>
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Since I'm going to die because of this horrid little red spot, I just know I'm going to have to see a dermatologist immediately. The doctor's office will call them. They will say, "Send her over to us immediately! This cannot wait!" The doctor sets the appointment up for me. October 1st. Seriously? It's August 13th, I'm dying from some terrible red spot and the earliest they can see me is October 1st? I just hoped I would live that long.</div>
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August turned into September. Red spot disappeared. What the what? Should I keep the appointment? The dreaded spot could return. I finally decided that since I have two spots on my face that have a tendency to get scaly from time to time, I should just keep the appointment. September turned into October and it was time to go. </div>
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Oh stupid, innocent me. I wore a polo shirt so I could unbutton down to where the spot was. The other two spots are on my face - nothing to remove there. They call me back.</div>
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Where is the area in question? </div>
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Gone. </div>
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Don't worry, it'll be back. </div>
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Well, I wasn't worried until you said that!</div>
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Meanwhile, go ahead and take your clothes off. The doctor and his assistant will be in soon to do a full body check for moles and abnormalities.</div>
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At this point I'm not upset about moles and abnormalities. I'm worried about the fact that I haven't shaved my legs in, well, a while. I don't know this man! Why, out of an office of four women and one man, <em><strong>I have to see the man</strong></em>? Panic mode!!!! No longer worried about disappearing red spot. No longer worried about spots on face. I guess it must have shown on my face. Or maybe it was the constant babbling, "But I haven't shaved my legs. I haven't shaved my legs. Do you know how long it's been since I've shaved my legs? I can't do this because I haven't shaved my legs!" The nurse informed me, if I was uncomfortable with the idea of this type of examination, that it could be rescheduled for later and they would just check the areas in question. </div>
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<strong><em><u>IF I WAS UNCOMFORTABLE?</u></em></strong></div>
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Hello? Didn't you just catch the part about me NOT shaving my legs?</div>
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In the end, I kept my pants on! Spot on chest was looked at - told not to worry. Whew! Spots on face were precancerous - froze those suckers off. Life is good. But now I have to think about shaving my legs...in November...when it's colder. Who shaves their legs in November?</div>
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You can bet I will!</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-61459887583121722652012-09-27T12:52:00.000-04:002012-09-27T12:52:14.197-04:00Officially Fall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I love fall. Having been born and raised in Florida, fall is totally amazing to me. Where we lived in Florida, you had two shades of green - green and then tired old green. Up here we have many shades of green and then all those beautiful warm colors in the fall.</div>
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My knitting buddy surprised me the other day with this absolutely wonderful skein of yarn!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxAr3HO-g6WIpinQICvRecOWU4f4QJ7k5GRk_VFODNPsOjB4d2RHOyYSnYec0KZoXtqFd8q1HLW16up9mzFf3Yv411zyh-w4KHpH3zs6H_cVGHOYhEgLkl-We5Xwc5QVLa92JzXN0fgaI/s1600/IMG_7526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxAr3HO-g6WIpinQICvRecOWU4f4QJ7k5GRk_VFODNPsOjB4d2RHOyYSnYec0KZoXtqFd8q1HLW16up9mzFf3Yv411zyh-w4KHpH3zs6H_cVGHOYhEgLkl-We5Xwc5QVLa92JzXN0fgaI/s320/IMG_7526.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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She calls it "Construction Paper Turkey." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL12NbF6QwrktcKockLMBcxDr55zNhWH-DC_MoPCByRrGS-MdcRfis1yEaDa9CXUo1uO-fSBpODxtxi2JfQ7oW0hyJ4DKcQrESUJqslhfAfK4GjurpO_wuiuDmf3m6kIggw-BitYNX5E/s1600/IMG_7524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrL12NbF6QwrktcKockLMBcxDr55zNhWH-DC_MoPCByRrGS-MdcRfis1yEaDa9CXUo1uO-fSBpODxtxi2JfQ7oW0hyJ4DKcQrESUJqslhfAfK4GjurpO_wuiuDmf3m6kIggw-BitYNX5E/s320/IMG_7524.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I think the name is very appropriate. I wish my pictures did the colors justice.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbj9fQc6m4cA0giaDm8BAFcucJjcmiT_13AuBM8_xx-s3VfZXJDGmMB-KGO_49oGQZI7rX6FcH1A0c4ulZUPaD-Bvx26l3KVsqgXS0yHB4j0dRvee6Cn2UF2psWW8O9vE2m15sKtcRYtY/s1600/IMG_7527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbj9fQc6m4cA0giaDm8BAFcucJjcmiT_13AuBM8_xx-s3VfZXJDGmMB-KGO_49oGQZI7rX6FcH1A0c4ulZUPaD-Bvx26l3KVsqgXS0yHB4j0dRvee6Cn2UF2psWW8O9vE2m15sKtcRYtY/s320/IMG_7527.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Last I checked she had another skein she was selling.</div>
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If anyone is interested, e-mail me and I'll send you the information.</div>
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Meanwhile, I'm going to figure out what this skein is telling me it wants to be when it grows up. I think I heard it whisper, "Definitely socks!"</div>
knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1958261935269810855.post-87493460475984583242012-09-13T13:02:00.001-04:002012-09-13T13:02:34.149-04:00Almost Four Months?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Almost four months of blog absence? Is there an excuse? Well, I could come up with many, but I'll just use a few.</div>
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1) R's broken foot</div>
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When we went to the doctor in May, he said it could take up to three or four months. I thought he was nuts. However, he <em><strong>is</strong></em> the one with the degree, not me. Here we are - almost four months later and R is starting to walk with more confidence. Still wearing the post-op shoe, although there was no op to be post! She will be moving into a stiff pair of shoes soon.</div>
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2) Harper</div>
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Due to Harper's mom have foot issues, I have been his caretaker. Oh my gosh! That dog is going to kill me! He has been dragging me all over this yard. There is no way on earth I could take him on a walk by myself. (If you don't believe me, check previous blog post.) We have made some headway, but due to him being<em> headstrong</em>, there is definite room for improvement.</div>
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3) Mom</div>
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As most of you know, my Mom has Alzheimer's. The past few months have been extremely difficult. I can't speak for anyone else, but when the diagnosis was made, extreme depression set in. I know there has been a black cloud over this house for at least two years. Then something happened. It was an awakening of sorts, but I will spare you the details.</div>
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It basically requires a whole new way of thinking. </div>
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When you first get the diagnosis, you are faced with major decisions.</div>
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Do you give up and put your loved one in an assisted living facility before they are truly ready?</div>
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Do you hire someone to come in and care for them when they are highly resistant?</div>
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Do you skirt major issues and hope they will take care of themselves? </div>
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I decided to do the last one. I avoided all major issues. I couldn't decide what on earth to do. My family was in turmoil. Time spent with Mom was extremely taxing. She wasn't happy. We weren't happy. NOBODY was happy. If I didn't do something fast, we were all going down together, rapidly. Then the aforementioned awakening happened. With an extremely supportive sister, a wonderful husband, two kids willing to work together, and a patient therapist provided by the local memory clinic, pulled us up and out of the doldrums. There are people out there who are putting stumbling blocks in our way. They don't believe the diagnosis or the stage of the disease. Believe me, I would never <strong><u><em>ever</em></u></strong> lie about Mom having this disease or how bad it is. Why would anyone do that?</div>
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With a new resolve, we decided to enjoy the time we have the best way we can. When she is with me, I try to find tasks around the house that desperately need to be done and ask for help. Yesterday we cleaned the inside of the refrigerator. While cooking, I ask for help with cutting vegetables that I don't need right away. Yes, I have to explain what size I need or answer whatever questions she has over and over again. But, she repeatedly tells me how great it feels to be useful and needed. And we try to find places to go that are not overwhelming to the senses and where she can walk by herself without fear of her getting too far away from us.</div>
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One such place is Reynolda Gardens which is adjacent to the Reynolda House. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUxTzwdf5Su2WmQ0m8tz7_tdkcD7NkyCtdR2tl-GDFtXIfhZP3Be8lXjcxcl0gO1ufe0LgNiYGyWRZZvZibCAktr4UHGz41CAceNGIUsGthdjKrSN9qtbCituJBsVlpXwvN1MhSuHIoQ/s1600/IMG_7387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUxTzwdf5Su2WmQ0m8tz7_tdkcD7NkyCtdR2tl-GDFtXIfhZP3Be8lXjcxcl0gO1ufe0LgNiYGyWRZZvZibCAktr4UHGz41CAceNGIUsGthdjKrSN9qtbCituJBsVlpXwvN1MhSuHIoQ/s320/IMG_7387.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reynolda House</td></tr>
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Last Sunday R badgered us into taking her there. If she was up to walking and since the weather was going to cooperate, we were game. We all thoroughly enjoyed it. Mom kept commenting on how relaxing it was, so it was a win-win situation.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GIxugbCAqbxYYswmAFjdSfPNzWcDgLXJNOl7C7rO0XSZF7QGARiE1P36QQt9-sdHx-xzoeJZ89t1ihwm53xctKUmQlEtfAPLfNCFUIJOV5GUIfsQMTR6BxVtTKynFrtdIwczAuKSitg/s1600/IMG_7200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GIxugbCAqbxYYswmAFjdSfPNzWcDgLXJNOl7C7rO0XSZF7QGARiE1P36QQt9-sdHx-xzoeJZ89t1ihwm53xctKUmQlEtfAPLfNCFUIJOV5GUIfsQMTR6BxVtTKynFrtdIwczAuKSitg/s320/IMG_7200.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reynolda Gardens</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOurw1sm-LIa4hinxb2UorG1-VGi7MoEe7kFh7U13ePyKPPX3BAQV45jAsZIG7dZi1d41ypbIET6RMA5tRQx_Chxxhk7XeZsuxUof8SsHuSqwXU7ub7JCtVR2HhtI7WE6oM9VBINkichw/s1600/IMG_7228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOurw1sm-LIa4hinxb2UorG1-VGi7MoEe7kFh7U13ePyKPPX3BAQV45jAsZIG7dZi1d41ypbIET6RMA5tRQx_Chxxhk7XeZsuxUof8SsHuSqwXU7ub7JCtVR2HhtI7WE6oM9VBINkichw/s320/IMG_7228.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An okra plant in the gardens. The flowers were beautiful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZs9BDF4liM9GnDrL-2WhSLEUVLVDHOWdeBRhzCRHsVRkpfJDabevM_VIwlfOxHpc8x1nxabmh4K5gKEKIMzlwWrS5ij4Yx74D5suhCvsWY25wksFSi_PHabrNUiln_yvXY6W0fLEvk8/s1600/IMG_7160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZs9BDF4liM9GnDrL-2WhSLEUVLVDHOWdeBRhzCRHsVRkpfJDabevM_VIwlfOxHpc8x1nxabmh4K5gKEKIMzlwWrS5ij4Yx74D5suhCvsWY25wksFSi_PHabrNUiln_yvXY6W0fLEvk8/s320/IMG_7160.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The photographer wasn't happy her face was in the picture, but I couldn't pass up sharing this picture. The sky was gorgeous and the colors in this picture are beautiful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCH3hHlqu0VaT_D5coSva9jyBG3fDQgxwM1rWbxxPdin86dJUHmvHNJOGTwNIR_vvNs9KFi8Y5-OkwuP7CuCTYiU-k_8ZLPbJaApzpMMGtZ9615Fd8K7ejxsyDR5clAX2XkqyoT3LJ1OM/s1600/IMG_7311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCH3hHlqu0VaT_D5coSva9jyBG3fDQgxwM1rWbxxPdin86dJUHmvHNJOGTwNIR_vvNs9KFi8Y5-OkwuP7CuCTYiU-k_8ZLPbJaApzpMMGtZ9615Fd8K7ejxsyDR5clAX2XkqyoT3LJ1OM/s320/IMG_7311.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A crystal doorknob on one of the cabins in the garden. Little unexpected treasures were everywhere.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImF5aQHGmasOZr-B0cb2SLS3xldLwjcTyaEIUs_FAKAIQrge1HxosyW8Cu6DxxoLEgaxEH4ZhIVzmpkOLrezUee-KkoR_WHVm2ZI-6Mmy1-qC76NIDSJy9DHiZTTy2QFuZsWGroVA9As/s1600/IMG_7373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImF5aQHGmasOZr-B0cb2SLS3xldLwjcTyaEIUs_FAKAIQrge1HxosyW8Cu6DxxoLEgaxEH4ZhIVzmpkOLrezUee-KkoR_WHVm2ZI-6Mmy1-qC76NIDSJy9DHiZTTy2QFuZsWGroVA9As/s320/IMG_7373.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bird in the hinge of the door of a private house in the garden. Another unexpected treasure.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjIXY6H1WE1iKIbiHtBhEVZ7PIHhS9CSjXA3q7AHT28gZpoGdsR93C-kADxYtAe-WXPle4x_jrvY7AWsu3yyi4yx7bR03YBYbD-XTVd3WKnmFp1X_LE6HfppkbmZ2-5jSn_kAD547Ny88/s1600/IMG_7421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjIXY6H1WE1iKIbiHtBhEVZ7PIHhS9CSjXA3q7AHT28gZpoGdsR93C-kADxYtAe-WXPle4x_jrvY7AWsu3yyi4yx7bR03YBYbD-XTVd3WKnmFp1X_LE6HfppkbmZ2-5jSn_kAD547Ny88/s320/IMG_7421.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heart shaped leaf found in front of Reynolda House. Since Daddy died, I have found so many heart shapes in nature. Think he was there with us?</td></tr>
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<br />knitting beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10219439129690821500noreply@blogger.com1