Yarny Goodness

I'm making some slippers out of this delicious yarn. I'm so not a slippers girl, but I have Reynaud's Syndrome, a fancy name for my-toes-go-numb-and-lose-feeling-at-random-times-mostly-when-cold. So, I fell in love with these little guys. You know you're jealous.

I've finished the actual shoes, and it took me about 4 tries to figure out the attached I-cord, but I finally got it. I ditched her directions and used my own, and we'll see...pictures will come when I am finished!

Stifling One's Laughter In Order to Appear Disciplinary

I just had to tell Sir H to "go back to bed" for the forty-eleventh time tonight, and he walked away, kicked at the floor and muttered, "That's the most ridic-yee-lus thing I've ever heard."

April

So I've been knitting like crazy, it keeps me from killing people. Or poking them with sharp sticks. So far, I have refrained from poking small people (or the large one) with the needles. Cross your fingers that I will continue in that successful vein.

In other news, I took my first pictures of my products for my Etsy shop, which is currently empty, but exists, at henryandco.etsy.com. I'm really looking forward to doing some business again. I've missed it.

Oh, and quick note - Sir H is still royalty, but The Bear has more than earned his new appelation...Baby Taz. As in the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. He is a whirling dervish, and makes quite the hilarious noises and "talking" that is remarkably like the baby version on the Baby Looney Tunes version.

Well, butter my biscuit and call me Sally...

Uncle R. was only 64. That's just astounding. That's so young! The Huz is in Chicago for the wake and funeral. I was going to go, we were trying to figure out how to juggle the kiddos, maybe take The Bear, since I can still carry him as a lap child, and fly back the same day, but then I found out it was an open casket. *gulp*

I'm not skeeved out by death, I believe in a wonderful afterlife, and that death is merely the beginning of the rest of our eternity, but I'm not particularly interested in sitting in the same room with Uncle R's body for 6 hours for a wake. Uh-uh. That clinched it for me. So, The Huz is there, we're here and missing him, and hoping that the family is able to grieve and find peace in the joy of Uncle R's life.

Rest in Peace, Dear Uncle R.

We lost a wonderful person on Saturday. The Huz's only uncle, to whom he felt very close, and his mother's only living relative besides a distant cousin, died after a few weeks of illness. He has lived for a long time with many different ailments, so his 72 years were truly a miracle, especially that he was able to continue to work, travel and do all the other things he loved. Uncle R. was truly a bright light in the world, and our lives will be a bit dimmer without his presence.

Wherever he went, he left a trail of smiles around him. He constantly poked fun at himself, but never joked at the expense of others. He always had a kind word to say to those around him. I literally cannot count the number of times he said my children were "lucky to have such a wonderful mother". How could you not love him? He was a handsome man, in a goofily endearing type of way. He had white grey hair, with a bulbous nose and a slight lisp, a heavily Chicagoan accent, and shuffled everywhere he went. He was extremely comfortable in his own skin, and it wasn't unusual to hear his feet shuffling into the kitchen at 10 pm for his midnight snack (since he went to bed at 6 pm), sneaking a sugary snack behind his sister's back (his personal food police), and then hearing a fart escape and him remarking, "Hmmm...must have stepped on a frog or something..." and then his feet shuffling back to the bedroom.

He was up for any adventure, and for his 70th birthday, he treated us to a vacation in Hawai'i, where we were able to enjoy a week of Uncle R's presence and geniality and good humor and leave relaxed and refreshed. Watching the close relationship between he and his sister, my mother-in-law, made me long for a brother, and reminded me of the importance to call my sister as soon as I got back home.

He was an avid collector of art, and since he was a humble man, I walked into his 3-story Riverside home, after knowing him for 6 years, to find that his walls were lined with original Picassos, Monets, Cassatts and numerous other works by Huge Names and local artists, just hanging on the wall in a home without any sort of special climate control or lighting. Around every corner was a new find, staying there was like living in the novel From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler for three days.

His life partner, T., not often spoken of in The Huz's family, due to their unspoken agreement to ignore Uncle R's predilection to The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name, was a kind and quiet man, and the two of them enjoyed decades of a fulfilling life of shared interests while allowing each other freedom to pursue their own travels and hobbies. It was truly a relationship to admire.

We will miss you, Uncle R. We love you very much, and will always remember your kindness, your humor and your smile.

Look What I Can Do!

For the uninitiated, these are generally called longies, made from wool yarn. They are used as an all-in-one diaper cover and pant for those who cloth diaper. Since we only sporadically use cloth for the Bear, I made his out of a wool/cotton blend, and they are offically named his Easter Egg Longies. I am particularly partial to the navy and red fire truck top with the pastel colors. Heh. I knew that if I tried to change his top to get a picture of the pants with a matching shirt, there would be no pictures at all.

They are entirely too huge, so he will be wearing them into next winter, which is great, there's plenty of room to grow. I still need to add a waist tie, to be able to cinch it around the waist. It's necessary because as he was walking around in them last night, I walked into the kitchen to see his bare bottom with the pants around his ankles. Cute bootie, but not so much for public consumption. In fact, this is how much too big they are:

So, now Sir H wants a pair. He wants this pair, but the crotch hits at mid-thigh, so I'm knitting him some jammie pants from some delicious Loft yarn that is so soft and stretchy that I'm going to be jealous of his pants. I'm so proud of myself. Tell you what - it's a great anxiety reliever for me. I also don't snack at night much anymore, because my hands are busy, and my brain is engaged just enough to not think about anything else, but not so much that I can't veg to an old episode of King of Queens. Go knitting!

These Three Words

So, I have this friend who has a blog inspired by a segment she saw on a talk show, about photographing yourself with three words that resonate with you. Fun, huh? Here's her blog:

http://those3words.wordpress.com/

These are my contributions so far:

Check it out, and send her your own masterpieces! Let your voice be read!