Merry Christmas

I’m off to visit a round of relatives over the next few days. I hope you will not be so mobile in your holiday merriment.

Merry Christmas to all!!!!

Counting Down

I’ve haven’t written about my pregnancy because I’m not one of those chicks to talk endlessly about such matters. It’s been a rather mundane experience. Back in May I had about three weeks of fatigue with a bit of a quesy stomach and that was it. This last month has me missing a good night sleep…just can’t get comfortable. Overall I am an active person (jogging, biking) but I haven’t been able to muster enough energy these last few weeks to manage anything exercise-able. Last week I pulled a groin muscle doing some activities. Not a good thing.

Instead I’ve been keeping busy doing some crochet and stitching a cross stitch sampler for the baby while waiting for Dec. 30, the due date, though it can happen at any time. Hubby keeps hoping that the nesting instinct kicks in but that ain’t happening. I think I’ve been pouring that instinct into crafty stuff. Check out the afghan throw I just finished:

Looks good from a distance.

Heck, it looks good close up, too.

Is it unmotherly to write that I want this all to be over? The main feeling is I just want my body back. I suppose that itsn’t too unusual. This has nothing to do with NOT wanting to be a mother and welcoming a new life into the world. To put a philosophical spin on the experience, pregnancy prepares a woman for the unselfish act of mothering. One gives her body over to another for nine months as the initial step toward a lifetime.

I’m up for it.

Canadian Salute

Remember that horrific shooting of 4 Lakewood Police Officers in the coffee shop located in Washington State? At the memorial service in the Tacoma Dome, the RCMP (“The Mounties”) sent over 1000 officers. Here’s the clip of them entering the arena. It’s very impressive and moving.

H/T: Small Dead Animals

More Vintage Crochet Goodness, I

I came across another stash of crochet books at Hobart Village Antique Mall, Townsend, MA. These were  particularly plummy.

J&P Coats, 1943

Inside page:

Calling the PC Police! "Come out of the kitchen! Crochet pot holders for Bazaars, Fairs, Showers and for Gifts to your Friends."

J&P Coats, 1943

Inside page:

The only mention of WWII: "'Paint' the patriotic symbols of eagle and shield with your crochet hook...as a wall mount or a pillow top to commemorate these war days."

On this bleak midwinter…

…a little Shatner and Palin for your viewing pleasure.

Sorry…can’t embed it…but it’s only 4 minutes long and worth seeing the look on Shatner’s face.

Miss Me, But Let Me Go

What do you say about a woman who lived 91 years and never let an idle day go by in her life? That woman was Anne Powis. I met her at my previous employment when she was a volunteer and I was wet behind the ears. She never dwelled on her remarkable past because there was so much living to do in the present.

I remember being open-eyed as she related the story when she was a young woman working at a hotel in Vienna, 1938. The Anschluss occurred and overnight swastikas were everywhere. Anne and one other girl were chosen to wear traditional Austrian dress and stand on the hotel balcony when Hitler entered the city. The irony was that she and the girl were the only two Jews working at the hotel but they were the most ”Germanic” looking on staff. Anne recalls the open sedan transporting Der Furher down the strasse.  Soon thereafter, SS men came to the hotel to inquire if any of the staff had problems with Anne and the other Jewish worker. No one did.

Anne’s father saw the writing on the wall and packed off his family to England and then finally to the United States. Always grateful for what this country did for her family, Anne wanted to give back and that she did.

Two years ago I nominated Anne for Outstanding Federal Volunteer for the Greater Boston Area. She was a finalist. I think she should have won, but obviously, I’m biased. Below is a portion of the nomination letter I wrote (with grateful input from my supervisor) on Anne’s behalf. Anne has so proud of her nomination and made tons of copies of the letter to give to family and friends. Hopefully, it will give you an idea of what sort of person she was:

A natualized citizen from Austria who has lived in the Boston area for decades, Anne has a special affinity for the tourist who’s English is, at best, hesitant. Fluent in English, French, German and Italian, Anne has made these visitors feel at home, providing knowledgable information as only a local can convey. Because of Anne, the visitor leaves [...] not only with a map and brochure but they have met a representative of the opportunities America offers to those who build a new life here.

When asked why she has given so freely of her time for so many years, Anne, who with her parents, fled Austria before World War II, replied, “This country saved our lives and I wouldn’t be here today…I feel good that I am repaying in a small measure what the United States did for me and my family.” Arriving as a young woman in her twenties, Anne married, raised a family and lived the American Dream. [...]

On the rare occasions that Anne can not come into work, her presence is sorely missed. Working [...] without Anne’s assistance is like being stumped on a nationally telecast quiz show without a lifeline.

The last 6-8 months of Anne’s life were difficult. A series of health problems curtailed her mobility and she started to withdraw from her family and friends. The last time I spoke her, Anne cut the conversation short. At the time I didn’t understand why but perhaps Anne was preparing us for what she knew was coming.

On November 30, Anne left us bodily but her spirit and legacy will remain to all she met. At the funeral, Anne left instructions for this poem to be read:

When I come to the end of the road

And the sun has set for me,

I want no rites in a gloom-filled room,

Why cry for a soul set free!

Miss me a little – but not for long

And not with your head bowed low.

Remember the love that we once shared,

Miss me, but let me go.

For this journey that we all must take

And each must go alone;

It’s all a part of the Master’s plan

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart

Go to the friends we know,

And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.

Miss me, but let me go.

- Edgar Albert Guest

I will miss you, Anne.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hubby and I will be heading down to my folks in Dartmouth, MA for the holiday. Traditionally we eat at 11 am and by 12 pm, the dishes are cleaned and put away. (No joke!) This year my step-dad is working so we’ll eat at 4:30 pm and have the dishes cleaned and put away by 5:30 pm. Gotta LOVE family!!!

Latest Project

It seems this blog is turning into a crochet blog. Sorry about that! It’s just what’s been occupying my time but I have to show off my latest project: a baby blanket with an applique designed and stitched by moi. (Thank you very much!!!) Oh, BTW, I’m pregnant, that’s why I made this. Yup, due at the end of December.

This is a "Pound of Love" project from Lion Brand Yarn.

Brown and red felt attached with "fern" stitches and a sloppy "lazy daisy stitch."

Crochet Book Treasures VI

This is the last of my older crochet books.(Until I find more.) Mom gave me this one. Go Mom!

American Thread Co., circa 1965. This is so Dick Van Dyke.

Inside page:

"Dad, how long do I have to wear this?" "Humor your mother, son."

My County

Growing up in Dartmouth, MA meant growing up in Bristol County, 691 square miles of Boston and Providence suburban communities. Counties don’t really mean much to the average Massachusetts citizen like it does down south where counties run the police department. Bristol County encompasses two of the larger cities in the state, Fall River, known for Lizzie Borden and Battleship Cove, and New Bedford, famous for Moby Dick and gang rapes.

My County

I suppose I’m being too harsh on the Whaling City. For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard NB politicians and business leaders say that NB is on the verge of revitalization and it NEVER happens. There is a crime problem in the city that doesn’t seem to get any better. On the street where I lived for two years (just one short block from the juvenile court near the downtown) a body was found one winter morning. A junkie overdosed and wandered into a neighbor’s lawn. The house next door was a drug house. I’ll give the junkies credit, they kept a low profile to avoid trouble from the neighbors (pity about the overdose, though.) It was disturbing to watch young boys bicycle up to the door, disappear for a few minutes inside, and then pedal away to deliver their illegal wares. The landlord lived in South Dartmouth, so he didn’t care what happened as long as he got the rent.

I write all this because of something Howie Carr wrote about Bristol County:

Now [Governor] Deval bids to expand the Cash for Clunkers program to include bust-out law schools in Bristol County. Now, Bristol County is a very nice place – if it had palm trees it could be a Third World country.

When it comes to economic development and crime, I couldn’t agree more.