Finished Projects

I finished Sarah's crocheted dress today. It has taken me about three months and I'm so glad to be done with it. I can't wait to see how it fits. I'm a bit nervous. Never made one of these and didn't have an actual pattern for it. I found an easy pullover sweater that was all one piece and decided I could do something similar as a dress. So, I did, with some modifications. And if I do another one, I'll make some additional changes. But all things considered, I'm pleased with my efforts. This dress is made with Caron Simply Soft, color: Tapestry. It is a lighter weight and feels more like a cotton yarn, although is says acrylic. 

 I even added a decorative border at the bottom, actually I started at the bottom of the dress. It is made in the round until you get to the sleeves. I found it was going to be too wide for her and tapered in as I moved up and this gives it a slight flare at the bottom. Not sure that will work but I wasn't about to start over. I actually like it and it won't be so tight around her legs. She's a leggy things anyway.


The second project finished is a sweater I made. I did use a patter from Red Heart for this one. I received two jumbo skeins of red yarn from Sarah for Christmas with instructions to make her something red. Ergo, a red sweater. It lacks only the buttons. 

I'll post photos of her wearing them as soon as I can. I think she'll be able to wear these for another month. I've learned that I should probably make sweaters in the summer. I do think she'll be able to wear them both next fall but still, would have been nice to finish earlier.

A Fractured Fairy Tale

Short Post for a Long Day

The end of another day of bone weary exhaustion. I thought, around 7 p.m. last night that today I might feel better. I had about three hours where I suddenly felt really good. I did some laundry and then watched a movie with Dave and Sarah. I went to bed and today, I managed to go out for about three hours with Sarah. By the time I got home, I was as tired as if I'd run a marathon. I simply sat down the rest of the day and watched movies with David.

At the moment, it is raining here. Tomorrow is Easter and I'd like to be able to go to church and not feel as if I need to lie down on the pew.

I'm making this short. Thank you all for comments, notes, and emails. Prayers are much appreciated also.

Powder Room Epiphanies

I was in the bathroom.... hold on... everyone does this. It isn't some shrine or weird place of punishment, unless you follow certain people. Anyway, while I was there it suddenly occurred to me that my life has been divided into a strange set of sequences that has been punctuated by some pretty awful things. I'll give you the synopsis cause by now I know you're indecently curious.

First phase began with my birth and went from 1956 until 1974. I was 17. This phase ended in death. My life totally shifted to another level and place. I don't think it ever occurred to me how radical that was until today. I mean, it was terrible but I never really saw it in this light before. I went from being a young girl in her late teens to a wife in her late teens dealing with the death of her parent and learning how to live with a person I'd known only weeks. No girl should have to be without her mother, particularly on the day she marries, or has her first child five years later. The shift was so profound that years later whenever I miss Mama I'm nearly inconsolable. I'm devastated all over again.

The second phase of my life was from my marriage 1974 until 2009 and culminated, again, in death. My husband suffered a violent heart attack and died as I tried to save him. This wasn't just a shift from one phase to another. This was a violent blow that simply slammed me into a whole other reality without any warning or time to prepare. I still suffer from post traumatic stress.

I thought Mama dying in a clinical setting of a hospital when I wasn't there was horrible. She wasn't coming home and I didn't get to say good-by. I'm left with an image of her unable get up, write, or to speak except with her eyes and being fed through a tube. At 17 this is horrible. And yet, I have to say that my second contact with death was worse than any nightmare I've ever experienced. Being wakened from a sound sleep to your husband thrashing and having him breathe his last breath in your face is an image you won't shake quickly, if ever.

So, in my tiny powder room, I realized that I'm well into the third phase of my life and if it follows the pattern, this won't end well. This is not a happy thought but let's be practical. And truthful. Looking at the pattern and knowing what I know, this is the reality of it. The ultimate end to all things is death.

Where does this leave me? Probably right where I was before. Sitting in the bathroom having my eyes opened to things I'd rather not think about. And getting a fairly clear revelation as to why I struggle with depression fairly regularly. If the high points of your life always end in violence, and believe me, my experience of death is not warm and fuzzy, but if they always end in this manner you're going to be dealing with gremlins regularly.

So, I need to stop beating myself up about feeling this way too much. I've been feeling guilty about feeling bad. It isn't like I've had what the average consumer would term a normal life. The stories I could tell, and probably will some day, are not pretty. Living with an alcoholic was not fun. And still, I was a good kid who never did drugs or smoked or drank or partied. I was a good mom, faithful wife, and caring sister. I wasn't perfect but despite the awful things I've seen and the mistakes I made, I've turned out o.k. I need to stop saying, "Get over it."

The key now I think is try to make this next phase, presumably the final one, last as long as possible and hope that it contains more joy than the two previous ones. For now, at least, it doesn't.

What do you do for the third act?

Just One Touch

Hi....

Why I'm still up is simply beyond my comprehension. I'm so tired. You know how tired I get sometimes. For most of the evening I've been reading blogs and other stuff. I sat and watched .... some show on my computer... I think I only watched one but at the moment, I'm not sure. Then I got up to shut the system down, only to check email and posts one more time... cause we all do that.

Anyway, I just clicked on my Timeline and there you were, smiling out at me, those wonderful blue eyes sparkling just for me. I remember that moment clear as a day. I could read your mind just by looking at your face. It was all there. I remembered. And then, in one blinding flash my whole being screamed with one phrase... I just want touch you. You hands, your arms, you face. Just to put my hands on your cheeks and feel your warm skin and to breath in the scent of you. The sound of that silent scream washed over me like a raging torrent and I was blinded by waves of tears and I gasped for breath with muffled sobs. I buried my face in my hands because I could not bear the flood.

I know...melodramatic. I always was, wasn't I. I'm not so much anymore, except about you. I suppose I should be embarrassed, even though you'd say not.

But you still take my breath away. Every time I see you, I simply can't breath. There is this place between breathing in and breathing out where everything seems to catch. Sometimes, I'm afraid I won't be able start breathing again.  I wonder sometimes... no, I wish that you knew it, before... and now... that you do that to me.

I don't know if you ever knew it.

I only know that I just want to touch you for one moment, one more time.