A knitting problem?

Yesterday, someone introduced me then explained, "you'll know her because she's ALWAYS knitting."

True. Very true. I love the peace, calm, and meditative aspects of knitting. And I loathe waiting, long meetings, consensus-building discussions, adult team-making games, and intermissions. So I knit.

I also knit to keep my mouth shut. Somehow knitting squelches the urge to interrupt or opine needlessly.

I have edited some of the places where I used to knit. No more restaurants. Or carpool. Or the church pew. Though if my family keeps focusing on smart phones rather than conversation, I may have to revert to that previously embarrassing-to-them public behavior.

I am a knitter ... much more relaxed than anyone around me regardless the tedium or tumult.

Yes, you can knit. It's easy. Really.

I highly recommend this video for those who want to learn to knit:

"We're not making mistakes. We're making experiences."

"Come on, man. Just buy a scarf."

Sublimely hilarious.

Sure is early.

It's nearly 7:00 am and the Knitternall family's morning has been underway over an hour. We rise and stumble at 5:30 so High School Girl can catch her bus to the Fernbank Science Tools & Technology program. No complaints from her ... all that science is nirvana to her rationalist soul. (Oh, the philosophical and faithful discussions we have had ...)

Once the fog of sleepwalking in the dark lifts, I'm glad I'm up so early. I'm at my most productive during those brisk hours before mid-afternoon, after which I slide into a stuporous, slow blinking half attention for late afternoon and evening meetings and deadlines (fair warning). One of my clients is at full charge around the time I head to bed, which means she's texting me at a time I can't think straight. We've worked out a system where she sends stuff to me well past midnight, then I tackle them a few hours later. Deadlines met.

Good morning, Dunwoody.

Hello, Mr. Smith, the preternaturally alert and cautious school bus driver who rises at 3 am, makes his rounds in Dunwoody, then delivers his teen-aged passengers safely to Decatur each day.

See you tonight, Campaign Guy, as he leaves for another busy day bridging work and Dunwoody visits. We'll meet again over dinner.

Have a great day, neighbors leaving the house with one hand on the wheel and the other flexing a coffee cup to lips in the dark of the pre-dawn work day.

Sssshhh, lawn care companies starting power mowers and blowers before 9 (actually, at 7:15 one recent morning). I know you have a long day ahead, but please don't break the morning peace so abruptly.

That's enough, Fox News, CNN, and other cable news shows relying way too much yelling at each other rather than the calmer BBC method of simply reporting the news.

I'm on it, much valued client texting a desperate "can you get this by 10 am today" plea for writerly attention.

Just a minute, hyperactive Scooter the Wonder Dog. You don't really need to go to the bathroom - it's that chipmunk family under the front steps you're really keen to check on.

Have a great day!

What's next?

My daughter and I share the "what's next" gene. We collect experiences, grazing through crafts, volunteer work, books, travel, and ideas. Some experiences stay with us; others get checked off and tucked away in memory. Experiences are so much more engaging than things.

Yet I think there comes a point when it's easy to get overwhelmed with all the opportunities for learning. Which is better ... master a few things or a little skill in a lot of things? Our multimedia-driven culture exposes us every day to new-new-new. We worry that we won't keep up and that, by not staying on top of the next technologically-driven social media trend/workplace IT tool/graduate degree/cultural phenomenon, we'll fall behind socially, professionally, and personally.

Catalog the things you've learned to do, from the mundane to the career-mandated.  In just one generation, our expectations and experiences have taken a quantum leap from the need-to-know and want-to-know of our grandparents' era.

My personal inventory: technical writing, basic sewing, needlepoint, cooking, knitting, vegetable gardening, refinishing furniture, housebreaking a dog, how to pack up and move a household in just a week, scrapbooking, managing websites with DreamWeaver, Vacation Bible School management, copywriting, strategic message communications, volunteer recruitment, Girl Scout troop leadership, the full continuum of child rearing, PowerPoint presentations, video scripting, how to pitch a tent, Microsoft Word/Excel/Publisher, Odyssey of the Mind coaching, painting walls and trim, how furniture is made from the moment the tree hits the ground, teaching phonics to preschoolers, change a tire, speechwriting, blogging, iPhone, English instruction for high school, running a nonprofit organization, Facebook, how to document a disability for public education accommodations, rudimentary PhotoShop, how to write an annual report for nonprofits and financial industries, search engines, political campaign marketing, door hardware installation, bicycle chain repair, Constant Contact email communications, streaming movies, earthy Japanese curse words (a remnant of my teen years in Okinawa), troubleshoot internet connections, charter school development, carpet manufacturing, hospital wayfinding design, SEO, online library reservations ...

Okay, that's enough.

But it can't be. To stay competitive as a freelance writer, I have to stay connected at all times with my clients' industries, demographic research for disparate audiences, cultural trends, and what's going on both locally and internationally. We don't live or work in a bubble anymore, limited by budget and travel modes to the wider world. Instead, the internet brings the world to our desktops and laptops in a constant cacophony of information.

Mental rest comes in doing things my grandparents considered necessities: home crafts, gardening, making do.  I hope to take the Master Gardener program through the DeKalb Extension Service. The next series begins January 2012. (There are information sessions in September for anyone who's interested. See the end of this post.)

What's next? It's always something.

It’s time to start recruiting for next year’s Master Gardener classes!!

Encourage your friends, neighbors, colleagues to send in their contact information to be added to the mailing list.  Letters (or emails) will be sent out in August with details of our September information sessions, and anyone who wants to apply must come to one of those sessions.  The dates are Sept. 2, Sept. 7, and Sept.8, all from 10:00 a.m. - 12:00 noon in the Training Kitchen at the main Extension Office.

Details of the program can be found on our website www.ugaextension.com/dekalb/ and I will be happy to talk to anyone who wants to know more - Averil - 404-298-4071

Knitting mistakes.

I love knitting. Really. Truly. By now, most people know I knit because I never stop knitting. In public. In the pew. In the car.

My craft has its share of knitwear that's truly visionary as well as stuff that looks like it exploded out of the acrylic yarn aisle at a long-ago-closed five-and-dime store.

And then there are the sublimely hilarious knitting projects. The ones that make me giggle. And remind me that knitting and insanity are indelibly intertwined.

Enjoy.

That's just bull.

The knitter's response to "Mom, I have to make a diorama for school."

That isn't photoshopped. Is it?

Tanks a lot.

iDesperate to own an iPhone?

Actually, it's that round metal part at the end that's cold ... not the part that's wearing a sweater.

Honey, your grandmother knitted it just for you. We'll just get a quick picture, send it to her, then hide it.

The bride's mother is a knitter. And this is the wedding of her dreams.

Resolution, schmesolution

I resolve not to make resolutions.

They're somewhat pointless (I'm going to do what I'm going to do, despite good intentions.)

They smack of "I don't like what/where I've been, so I'm going to do better." (I embrace the good and the bad because ... well, who's perfect?)

The ones that aren't narcississtic are too global to hold on to day by day. (Get more exercise, get organized, live more simply, finish the NY Times crossword without Google, rely less on food grown far away, do my part to help the homeless/improve living conditions in Haiti/change the local-national political scene).

So I'm not going to do it.

Instead, I welcome another year of opportunities to explore, fail, change, browse, overreact, forget, make peace, make trouble, nurture, guide, learn, laugh, love, and live.

Life comes one day at a time.

Happy New Day.

The giving season is here again.

Light Up Dunwoody is tonight (my daughter is marching with the Peachtree Charter Middle School Band), Thanksgiving is this week, and I've filled the pantry and fridge with yummies from Trader Joe's and Publix. The frenzy of activities and preparations will subside and the Knitternall family will have some much-needed quiet time together over the four-day weekend. Since we're spending the holiday here at home, I opted for a combination of somebody-else-made-it and homemade specialties so my time in the kitchen is more fun than chore. 

After many, many hours at the computer working away on my freelance writing assignments, I indulged in a knitting project for a very favorite person. It's finished, and just in time for its newborn recipient. The Upside Down Pansy Hat is definitely an "awwww" - and a very fun project to knit. (I also have a fairly unique assignment: one of the Nature Center volunteers wants an eggplant hat. Yep - eggplant. Seems there's this long tradition of giving a friend all things eggplant through the years. What a hoot.) 

Once Thanksgiving concludes, I'll gear up for the following weekend, which will be a special, first-time event at Dunwoody Nature Center:

Gifts for the Earth                                                    Saturday, December 4, 10 am - Noon at Dunwoody Nature Center

A free family event sponsored by Adrian and Brian Bonser and the Gendell Family Foundation

Turnabout is fair play: make something special for the earth that gives us so much. Make natural feeders and other gifts for the creatures who call Dunwoody home. Share with people you love as gifts from you to them to the earth.

 

Vroom, vroom.

This has been a very eventful week for the Knitternall gang ... all good.

• I took Adam to Mock Trial Law Academy at UGA. As an avowed Wolfpacker, red means NC State. Having to take my kid there was downright painful. The things we do as parents ...

• As for Law Academy, Adam is having a really good time. Favorite moment: last year, his competition role as Witness lead to an Outstanding Witness award when he devastated the other team's attorney. (Basically, the attorney's job is to impeach the witness; the witness' job is to stay in character, stick to the story, and mess with the cross-examining attorney.) At dinner the first night, he discovered the opposing attorney is at Law Academy, too. "You're that GUY!" As my son said, "kinda surreal, very cool."

• I recently took on a new freelance writing client, who has me working 15 hours a week on a 3+ month project. So when I'm not anchoring home base at Dunwoody Nature Center or teaching Preschool Phonics, I'm writing. Whew.

• Anna Grace was accepted to MidFest, the state level honor band at UGA. Yes, another kid going to Bulldog territory for a long weekend. But we didn't know she'd been nominated or placed until this week. Her band teacher decided to surprise us. Boy, did he. Big cost, big conflict. The date for the weekend? During Adam's Eagle Ceremony.

• Speaking of which, I've been designing the Eagle Ceremony invitations and program and getting things ready for the big day. I need a clone!!!

• T is still basking in the completion of a three-year certification (some highly specialized area of private banking equivalent to a master's degree). But, since he hopped immediately into multiple business trips, we've barely had time to celebrate.

This abundance of blessings has me somewhat bemused. The good comes like the bad, often unexpected and certainly not deserved. I'm giving myself the same advice I cling to when we weather storms: rely on faith and pay all grace forward.

Since I was neglecting my blog, I welcomed the high comedy of fellow bloggers. Dunwoody Talk has a stealth link inside an anonymous comment that had me ROTFL (kid speak - seriously, I don't text acronyms).  If anyone has been paying attention to the total "fail" of Dunwoody's new branding, visit this link:  http://bit.ly/bSFP51. I discovered that a little "d" with an asterisk is now the go-to logo for the city. I'm keeping an open mind. Some people love the abbreviated "insider" look (kind of like those oval beach decals that look like European city license plates - if you know what they mean, you belong). I just keep wincing.

I also got to hear a neighbor tell me one school board candidate is the best choice because the other candidate is a mommy and just doesn't have the time to invest in all the meetings and preparation and analysis needed to serve. Seriously? As a mommy who juggles three jobs, knits an embarrassing amount of yarn, is pretty involved in my kids' schools, manages one kid's chronic illness and neverending medical needs, and volunteers in several different nonprofits ... I have a feeling a mommy can multi-task and understand things just fine.

We're leaving shortly for UGA for the Law Academy's closing ceremonies. Another trip down Highway 316, the most insane drag strip I've ever had the misfortune to navigate. 65 miles per hour through stop lights and cut-throughs.

Vrooom.

The Knitternall 100 Giveaway

Musings during a splendid Sunday morning in Dunwoody ...

• My friend Kathie at A Few Good Pieces had a great idea: a giveaway to mark the 200th follower of her blog. I forgot to add the "follower button" in the early years, mainly because I was still a bit tentative about exploring this virtual community. I am grateful for the more than 170,000 (and counting) hits my blog has received in the past few years. Now I'd like to pay homage to my regular visitors. When my "followers" total 100, I'll give away a hand knit lace shawl in your choice of colors to one chosen at random! (The pattern is Haruni by Emily Ross.) I'll cast on as soon as I contact the winner and we discuss the options.

• While this began as purely a knitting blog, my postings have evolved into a "slice of Knitternall life" in Dunwoody. I am blessed to live in this town, among caring friends, a dynamic church family, and with people who give so generously and selflessly of their time to make Dunwoody truly special.

• Knitting is still what I do. All the time, according to friends and family. But that can't be true since I'm usually juggling the parent thing, myriad writing assignments, volunteer jobs, and the Nature Center. Yet, when I count how much I've knitted this year, I'm either knitting in my sleep or way more produtive than I thought.

• Village Burger has become our go-to place for a quick, tasty bite or just some dessert. It's in walking distance of the Knitternall house. My favorite time there is in the evening, while fall is cooling the breeze and scores of friends and friendly faces are lining up for their House Burgers, Char Dogs, and Concrete Cones. It's becoming a barometer for when things end ... plays, games, schools closed because of a water shortage: drive by VB and watch the crowd surge.

•  "Celebrate all you have achieved." That's what the studio portrait package says. We have to order our son's senior portraits TODAY or miss the deadline for yearbook. I've dithered because the cost is unbelievable. The studio has rigged the packages so that, in order to get just an 11x14 and a few extras for friends and family, you'll spend close to $350. For another hundred dollars, you can get 107 prints (count 'em) plus a CD so you can print out even more. Really? Sticker shock is putting it mildly. And this comes right after hefty checks for yearbooks, "required school fees and supplies," two major car repairs, and just before oldest teen sends in his college applications (and we anticipate that first tuition bill.) Do I put my philosophical foot down, say "enough," and order a la carte just the 6 prints I want (one of his formal senior portrait and three black and white casual photos)? for $200 (wince)? Or do we buy into the insanity?

• My yard died. The long summer heat won. Back to the shovel and rake over the next four weeks as I plant optimism for next spring.

Blessings to everyone who visits here.  Your comments and insights are always welcome!

Well, what do you think about that.

A few giggles.

Grande latte, Seattle style.

Nationally, reading scores are down. Spelling is a challenge, too.

Sustainable gardening gone bad.

Wait. The name's on the tip of my tongue. Yellow. curved. fruit. Sounds like . . . my Aunt Hannah.

You won't believe how many knitters like to knit . . . food. Honestly.

What my kids are getting for Christmas next year.

Writer's block. Not.

A prolonged absence from the Knitternall blog implies disinterest. Not true! So much is happening in the Knitternall world that blogging for pleasure seemed . . . well, self-indulgent.

But isn't self indulgence at the heart of blogging?

Okay, that's a conundrum I'll leave to another day's musing.

My Honda Odyssey's odometer roared past 100,000 while we were en route to Parkview High School in Lilburn for the regional Odyssey of the Mind competition. Darlin' daughter's team scored high enough for them to proceed to the State competition in Columbus during Spring Break. Awkward! Several team members had family trips that week and are now scrambling to get back in time.

The Charter for our middle school came back from the state with two pointed criticisms: not enough innovation, not enough flexibility from the county school district. Ahem. We tried in the first round to put those in, were thrwarted, and are now going back with everything we hoped for in the first place. The State Department of Education is solidly in our corner, which is a great turn of events. Actually, I think it's a blessing that the charter came back because now we can do it RIGHT.

I was following The Great Dunwoody Chicken Debate with great interest because I really, really want chickens in the back yard.

The Goddard School debacle continues in our backyard. Between Rick Callihan's jokey references to our stream as a mythological river (honestly - just not funny) and city staff working tirelessly on behalf of the private investor who bought the property and the franchisees, I feel rather put upon.

Our son's Eagle project benefiting Children's Healthcare of Atlanta continues quite productively. We're grateful to bloggers like John Heneghan and Dunwoody area Scout troops for spreading the word. He's up to 15 systems and 72 games. He hopes to get 15 more handheld Nintendo DS's and Gameboys (no PSPs have turned up, so good thing he hasn't received any PSP games!). Hopefully all this will finish by summer since his senior year will be busy enough (and he turns 18 in December).

I'm in the midst of helping my parents move to Atlanta while they're healthy and can enjoy the vitality of this place. Not easy. But very much needed.

I love Thursdays. My little Phonics Friends join me in the clubhouse at Dunwoody Nature Center for preschool phonics instruction. Okay, I know it's instruction, but they think they're coming to play with my phonics games, listen to my crazy stories, and watch me make a complete fool of myself. Being a teacher is 7 parts pedagogy and 3 parts theater.

And yes, I'm knitting like a fool. The crazier life gets, the more I need the meditative comfort of knitting. I've worked on a baby sweater for our church's youth group intern, completed a few prayer shawls, and am at the midpoint of Nora's Sweater from Interweave Knits. I'm knitting it in a deep, rich purple that gives me joy as it winds its way off the needles.

Meanwhile, as I said to John Heneghan (I'm a total fan), I've been a bit removed from my happy place thanks to "stuff," but tomorrow has lots of hope in it. The peas are peeking through the dirt in my tidy raised bed garden, I just planted some beans and placed their teepees in anticipation of a bumper crop this summer, my son is enjoying a bit of remission from Crohn's and, right now, it's quiet in the Knitternall home.

Serenity.

Oops.

As part of the computer generation, my daughter has little experience with white-out correcting tape. Make a mistake? Edit and re-print. No worries.  Recently, for a school project, she used the orphan correcting tape in the desk to cover a caption beneath a photo she wanted to scan and input into an essay.

A few days later, we were driving down Ashford-Dunwoody Road. She stared out the window, thinking her thoughts. (The kid misses nothing - her observations have become family legend.) Through the pouring rain, she noticed some once-yellow lines had been blackened. "Check it out, Mom. They used black-out to correct the road."

Which made me think about other useful correcting tapes I'd like to have in the Knitternall family desk:

School-Out:  We couldn't keep enough of this in stock for Big A's wishes.
Dinner-Out: I'd love to roll this one out when the week gets too crazy.
Time-Out: Busy day? Correct the clock with a little Time-Out!
Blow-Out: Just when my temper gets the best of me . . .
Work-Out: If it's too wet or cold or windy or dark to talk, use the Work-Out!
Clean-Out: Messy house? Get the Clean-Out.
Dog-Out: Correcting product for dog hair, prints on the carpet, occasional accidents, and smells.

Sadly, these products do not exist (yet?) and there's no time-out around to correct my overloaded calendar.

Ah, well.

Meeting-ed out.

I am meeting-ed out.

Since last week, I've had a meeting every single day and night, for work and school and church. I wanted to attend each one. I even led a few of them myself. But as of this moment, finally home after the Open House at Dunwoody High School, I am done. Over. Way past tired. So many important details to note, follow up on, and my brain is mush. Time for a to-do list.

The best part of all the busy to-ing and fro-ing has been listening to The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I love the smokey and sassy Southern accents of the narrators and the pace of the story as it builds, shifts direction from one perspective to the next, returns to a previous storyline, and takes a leisurely path to the conclusion.

Between now and next Monday, the Knitternall family will have Scout Sunday, participate in making 15,000 sandwiches with St. Luke's, enjoy a Friday night lock-in, cook supper for the Youth Group, and celebrate T's biggity birthday. (I'm not telling - we're just three weeks apart in age.)

I probably should clean the house and finish the laundry, too. Or not.

Someone stopped by the Nature Center today to register for one of the gardening classes we have scheduled and said, with great sincerity, "don't you love this slow time of year to get things done?"

Show me the slow.

And hurry.

Leisure knitting and leisure suits.

I cast on a new project this weekend, the Diminishing Rib Cardigan by Andrea Pomerantz. I'm working with a soft cotton yarn in a pale chartreuse, a lovely texture and shade for spring. There are tricky parts (tubular rib cast on) and easy parts (raglan structure and stockinette). I'm in the slow increase section so chatting during today's knitting circle gathering at St. Luke's should be quite easy.

If I'm not talking with kindred spirits, I like to have a movie on when I'm knitting. But sometimes either my latest NetFlix hasn't arrived yet or Classic Movies lets me down. So I  trolled NetFlix via the computer and decided to watch instant plays of old TV shows from my childhood. What a hoot! Talk about major cultural changes . . .

Last night I caught an episode of Emergency! that had the paramedics come across an accident during an off-duty fishing trip. The injuries were severe, the road was isolated, there was no traffic, and they had to just sit and hope for another car to come along. No cell phones! Here, in my lifetime, we've gone from depending on yourself and luck to being just a cellular call away from help.

Oh, good grief, the hair styles. And the nurses in white . . . now that I miss. When you've confused the cleaning staff with a nurse in the hospital, you know things have gotten way too casual. Huge walkie-talkies, coppertone ovens, large-size newspapers, leisure suits, beyond-tight pants on men and women, dorky shoes, phones with CORDS, writing everything down rather than keying it into a computer, hairsprayed updos . . . amazing.

Bonus: my tween crush Bobby Sherman was on one of the episodes. Wow . . . what was I thinking?

NetFlix also has some really good British shows in its instant-watch playlist. I've visited Ballykissangel in Ireland with a new Catholic priest, escaped reality with Torchwood, a spin-off of Dr. Who, and tried to understand rather thick regional dialects in some procedural cop shows.

The best thing about these instant-watch options? I rarely can watch a show from start to finish - too many must-do's and kid distractions. So pause, even turn off NetFlix and it remembers where you were the next time you sign in!

Now that's convenience.

I'm cold. When's that half cord of wood getting here?

Well, hello there.

I enjoyed the Christmas break by taking on the persona of a slug: slow moving, content to meander, and just a tad messy. While I worked busily at the Nature Center through the holiday, I spent the two three-day weekends sheltered with my family and doing as little as possible outside of cooking special treats and knitting FIVE prayer shawls. Bliss. We needed some quiet time together after the very stressful Thanksgiving hospital thing. A rainy Christmas Eve and a brutally cold New Year's just added more incentive to staying indoors.

So, everyone who nudged me about the very long gap in posts: yep, I'm a slug.  I'm so glad you missed me, though!

Back to normal now. School began today and I'm consumed by summer plans. Yep - it's time to get the Nature Center's summer camp program rolling, as well as myriad new adult classes (gardening! birding! beekeeping! photography!) and kid classes and family events and . . . . .  At the same time, I'm prepping for the Thursday Preschool Phonics class I have in the Nature Center's clubhouse, checking in with Peachtree Middle School's capable volunteers for upcoming Parent Coffees and tours, and making  plans for our own family's summer camps and fun.

The promise of snow later this week just means getting as much done as possible in a few short days. The Spring brochure has to hit the community's mailboxes in two weeks and printer deadlines don't go away just because the weather isn't cooperating.

Tomorrow I'm rejoining the St. Luke's ROCKers since they now meet on Wednesdays. That's a way better day for me to slip away for a long "lunch hour" with the knitting circle. I've cast on Elizabeth Zimmerman's Pi R Square shawl (the garter stitch version - I'll do the lace one next), a tasty bit of easy knitting that won't interfere with chatting.

It's 2010. Whether you think that's the first year or last year of a decade, it's fun to say (twenty-ten!) and filled with hope for good days ahead. We need them.

The brain can hold just so much . . .

I can't remember everything.

Up until a few months ago, I thought that not remembering telephone numbers and people's names and restaurants and college professors and when someone got married (or born) was a tremendous weakness. My husband can remember the street address of the townhouse we lived in when we were first married. I can't remember the street name itself.

Then I had an epiphany. I actually don't care!

I remember things that are important to me. I forget the things that aren't. So much of everyday life is unimportant minutiae . . . the name of someone you work with for a couple of months, the hotel you stayed at for a weekend back in the 80's, a writing assignment published while doing research for the next one, your kid's preschool class teacher, who was president of the Junior League when I first joined, or the type of car I drove when I was in college (clunker covers it nicely). Honestly, do I need to keep those facts in the front of my memory? No! The brain can hold just so much, and a lifetime of memories gets pretty darned big.

So now I relax when I can't remember something that's excruciatingly important to the fact-obsessed.  I'm not unintelligent, or "losing it."

I'm just choosy about what I want to remember.

I don't want to work, I just want to knit all the live long day . . .

I just spent the better part of the four-day holiday catching up on a mountain of chores. Understandably, we let most things slide while the teen was in the hospital; but now it's time to pay the piper, so to speak. Laundry, yard work, basic cleaning, and organizing took up much of each day. But we also ate well, went to bed when we were tired, and slept until we were rested. Each evening, as Christmas movies began popping up on Lifetime and the Hallmark Channel, I rewarded myself with peaceful knitting.

Bliss.

I consider it a blessing to be able to do simple things like cleaning and organizing. There's a timeless feel to hospitals. Everything inside the patient's room stops while the world spins along. When you emerge, it's with a sense of being way behind.

Now I feel caught up. If only the teen could feel the same. Unfortunately, school work just keeps piling up, a double whammy with Dunwoody High School's merciless block schedule. (Which is why I'm lobbying so hard to change that schedule - miss a week of school and you're two weeks behind. And finals are just a few weeks away!)

We're enjoying the feeling of normalcy while, deep in our hearts, we know it's a very transitory thing. Crohn's is a pitiless disease, and it isn't curable. But we're blessed in so many ways. He's home, we're together, many people are praying for him, and God is with us each and every moment, good and bad.

Thanksgiving indeed.

Fandango Shawl

I never let stash yarn sit idly in my cupboard. I love "free range" knitting, repurposing motifs and yarns from earlier projects for shawls and felted bags. Modular knitting is one of the most flexible foundations for making things up as you go.

The Fandango Shawl grows one modular fan at a time on my favorite Lantern Moon 10 1/2 knitting needles, though I think 9s and 10s would work just as well since I knitted with a wide range of yarn weights.

Isn’t it cool the way the colors create a quilt-y effect? I’m thinking about a one-color version, with many, many different yarns and weights in cream. Yummy.

Fandango Shawl

A modular knitting pattern

Finished Size: 72" wide by 30" deep/wide.

Gauge: Flexible (depends on yarns and needle used - I recommend 9, 10, or 10 1/2).

Materials: Size 10 1/2 needles; @ 1,800 yards mixed color and weight stash yarn. (I used 10 different yarns in varying weights from sport to heavy.)

Instructions:

Fandango is "constructed" one modular fan at a time, beginning with the base fan at the bottom center of the shawl. Each modular fan features two colors in this design. Vary color placement so adjacent modular fans complement each other. An alternate approach can be a monochromatic color palette. Weave in ends as you go. If you decide to line your shawl, block it first since the lining will affect the "stretch and give" of the design.


Odd rows are the front side.
For 2-color fans: Color A = Rows 1, 2, 5, 6, 9, 10, 13, 14. Color B = Rows 3, 4, 7, 8, 11, 12, 15-24.

1st Modular Fan

Row 1 (A):  With Color A, cast on 25 stitches.

Row 2 (A): Knit one, knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front. Switch to Color B.

Row 3 (B): Knit one, slip one stitch with yarn in back, (Knit 1, slip one with yarn in back) 11 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 4 (B): Knit one, slip one stitch with yarn in front, (Knit 1 with yarn in back, slip one with yarn in front) 11 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front. Switch to Color A.

Row 5 (A): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 6 (A): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front. Switch to Color B.

Row 7 (B): Knit one, slip one stitch with yarn in back, (Knit 1, slip 1 stitch with yarn in back) 11 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 8 (B): Knit one, slip one stitch with yarn in back, (Knit 1 with yarn in back, slip 1 with yarn in front) 11 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front. Switch to Color A.

Row 9 (A): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 10 (A): Knit 2 together, (Knit 1, knit 2 together) 7 times, purl 2 together. 16 stitches remain. Switch to Color B.

Row 11 (B): Knit one, (knit one with yarn in back, slip 1 with yarn in front) 7 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 12 (B): Knit one, (knit one with yarn in back, slip one with yarn in front) 7 times, slip last stitch with yarn in front. Switch to Color A.

Row 13 (A): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 14 (A): Knit 2 together, (knit 1, knit 2 together) 4 times, purl 2 together. 10 stitches remain. Cut Color A and continue with Color B for rest of fan motif.

Row 15 (B): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 16 (B): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 8 stitches remain.

Row 17 (B): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 18 (B): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 6 stitches remain.

Row 19 (B): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 20 (B): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 4 stitches remain.

Row 21 (B): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 22 (B): Knit 1, purl 2 together, slip last stitch with yarn in front. 3 stitches remain.

Row 23 (B): Knit across, slip last stitch with yarn in front.

Row 24 (B): Slip one stitch, knit 2 together, pass the last stitch over and bind off.

All Other "Body" Fans

At this point, modular fans will build by picking up either 12 or 25 stitches from the fans below. For example, the next modular fan to the upper right will begin by casting on 13 stitches, then picking up 12 stitches from the upper right of the base fan. The modular fan to the left will begin by picking up 12 stitches from the upper left of the base fan and casting on 13 stitches. Follow the same pattern instructions above, "building" your shawl until you reach the width and depth you prefer.

Final (Top) Row of Modular Fans

Create a straight edge for your fan by knitting a series of half-fans between the peaks of the top row.

Row 1 (A): Pick up 25 stitches from two fans below.

Row 2 (A): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 23 stitches remain.

Row 3 (B): Knit 2 together, slip 1, (knit one, slip one with yarn in back) 9 times. 21 stitches remain.

Row 4 (B): Knit 2 together, knit 1, (slip 1 with yarn in front, knit 1 with yarn in back) 8 times, purl 2 together. 19 stitches remain.

Row 5 (A): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 17 stitches remain.

Row 6 (A): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 15 stitches remain.

Row 7 (B): Knit 2 together, slip 1, (Knit 1, slip one with yarn in back) 5 times, purl 2 together. 13 stitches remain.

Row 8 (B): Knit 2 together, knit 1, (slip one with yarn in front, knit one with yarn in back) 4 times, purl 2 together. 11 stitches remain. Cut Color B and continue with Color A for rest of motif.

Row 9 (A): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 9 stitches remain.

Row 10 (A): Knit 2 together, knit across, purl 2 together. 7 stitches remain.

Row 11 (A): Knit one, knit 2 together twice, purl 2 together. 4 stitches remain.

Row 12 (A): Knit 2 together, purl 2 together, pass the last stitch over and bind off.

Meanwhile, back at the Knitternall ranch . . .

I've noticed times when favorite blogs go silent for awhile. Sometimes it's a week. Often it's longer. I always understood that life happens and blogs aren't always a top priority for their authors.

Which is the case for this blog.

Life has most definitely happened, culminating in another hospitalization for our teen. Earlier abdominal surgeries for Crohn's complications resulted in scarring in the lower intestine. We saw a steady increase in pain and flareups, then a complete blockage of his digestive tract.  He spent a week in that most wonderful hospital, Children's Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite, at the same time as his surgeon and primary gastroentorologist had hospital rounds. The good news is he had the care of the specialists who know him best and he avoided surgery this time. The bad news is that the stricture remains. He handled the purgatory of stomach pain, NG tube, picc line, and other tortures with grace, occasional cursing, and more patience than I would have had in his place.

A neighbor sent me a wonderful missive focusing on the "thanksgiving" in the bad things that happen to all of us at one time or another. In the same spirit, I offer thanks as well:

Thanks to God for being with our family through this ordeal.

Thanks that our family is home, together, for this holiday weekend.


Thanks that the good people of Dunwoody Nature Center's Board and staff weathered my prolonged absence with kindness and a can-do spirit.


Thanks that Phil the Youth Minister Guy could pray for food and have it appear . . . twice! when the teen was finally allowed to eat after a 6-day fast.

Thanks for DHS Latin students and Mock Trial team mates, fellow Troop 764 Scouts, our extended family, and good friends who rallied around our teen, reminded him that he matters, prayed for his recovery, and shared best wishes when he needed them.

Thanks that our daughter is flexible, kind-hearted, and self-reliant. It isn't easy being the sibling of a chronically ill kid.

Thanks for laughter. When Scoutmaster LaRose told our teen he didn't really have to throw himself so completely into research for his Eagle project, he got a huge roar from everyone. (He's collecting handheld Nintendo and Sony game systems, games, and power packs/accessories for Children's, so Volunteer Services can loan them to bedbound tweens and teens during their hospitalizations. He knows, as well as they do, that distraction is a great way to deal with pain. Coloring books and crayons are great for little ones, but older kids need something a bit more . . . advanced.)

Thanks for knitting. I made two pairs of felted slippers, eleven dishcloths, and worked out a sock design for my mom while listening to IV alarms, vitals monitors, distant pages, and a steady stream of Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon.  Knitting kept me calm, centered, and alert to our son's needs.

Thanks for NetFlix and wireless internet.  For hours at a time, the teen could forget a bit about the NG tube and enjoy some "transforming" entertainment, update his Facebook friends, play games, journal his Eagle project status, and read uplifting emails.

Thanks that we chose Dunwoody as our home a decade ago, little knowing how much we'd need the hospital campus just 15 minutes from our house.

Thanks that research into Crohn's and its treatment has advanced so much in our teen's lifetime.

Some of the most giving people around our family are now enduring or have suffered their own challenges and losses. Thanks for compassion that springs from the most God-centered part of our souls.

This is truly a Thanksgiving Day for the Knitternall family. Whatever comes next, we are together and we are blessed.

Not looking.

I just realized that I never look in a mirror anymore.

After a brisk 20 minute shower, hair drying, and minimal makeup, I'm ready for the day. And I never look back.

What freedom.

It isn't that I don't care what I look like. It's just that I know very well indeed that what looks back from the mirror doesn't match the way I feel on the inside. There are silver hairs and crow's feet, a slowly developing turkey neck and jowls . . . the signs of relentless, encroaching middle age.

In the plastic surgery, high impact workout world I live in, I should be appalled at this state of things. I'm well aware that I may be judged lacking in the looks department, and even pitied because I'm giving in to my age.  Instead, I feel free. My genetic code and super-busy life are irrefutable facts in life-as-I-know-it, so why fret? I find joy instead in my family, handcrafts, gardening, walking the trails at Dunwoody Nature Center, church fellowship, friends, scoring a bargain at a thrift store, cooking good food, and learning something new.

As long as I'm tidy and the clothes are somewhat coordinated, I'm fine.

I'm not looking. I'm enjoying.