•17 July, 2008 • Leave a Comment

so what better time to post knitting??  i have nothing to say.  it’s too hot.  so i will show off my pretties instead!

these are my “i don’t know what to knit but i have to cast on something” stand by. tell me, who hasn’t made a ballband dishcloth?


this came from here. i love her patterns. she is so creative it makes me sick to think about it. and with two young ones underfoot! i don’t begin to imagine that i know how she finds the time to knit, much less design!


a sock. and yes, i did overcome sss and make the second one. but then it became summer so i have only worn them once… *sigh*


i love this blog. these knitted toys always come out like the pattern. (at least this one did!) and she is sooo good at making them look anime without copying amigurumi. my husband complained one night that you don’t see the grass nearly enough in michigan, and so, i present to you: Grass!



and finally, the “little secret” i posted about over at “k1p1” but never updated about… little mary janes from saartje knits. these were a dream to make, and they fit the recipient beautifully. (no they were not for me. not yet anyway… we are still waiting for that dream to come true!)



and that, my friends is the end of show and tell for now. in fact, that is the end of the finished objects i have right now! but i have cast on for these… so i will show and tell them when i get somewhere slightly substantial.

blessings, and happy knitting!



•13 July, 2008 • 2 Comments


my silje friend came all the way from norway to see us!  and she brought her andreas boyfriend with her!!! and right, ok, she didn’t just come from oslo to see us, but we were one of the reasons she came.  

silje and i were pretty close the year she was an exchange student at my high school.  

me, nate, silje and the kid from brazil who’s name we can’t remember…

before the sweetheart dance, junior year, 1995.


me, julia, silje, judith, and liza seeing judith off at the airport, 1995.

we watched movies, went to the mall, wore one another’s clothes… she introduced me to techno, doc martin boots, and the art of wearing a scarf.  we talked religion, boys, and books.  but then she went home to oslo and i stayed behind. she has been back to the states one time since she went back.  on that visit, my bella mae was still in a pram!  we sat at the local diner and force fed her french fries so we could talk “adult” stuff.


this visit, we talked about old times, got up to speed about where our lives have gone since we saw one another last, laughed about photos we took together years ago, and smiled for new photos.  we shared our lives with one another once again.  and it reminded me that a few miles (or a thousand) can’t keep a good friendship down… it was good to sit on the porch and pick up right where we left off ten years ago.  we discovered that we are still very much alike: artistic, strong, loving women.  i feel blessed to know her… and with a little luck, it won’t be another ten years before we see one another again!

•28 June, 2008 • Leave a Comment

i am overcome with a need to update this blog.  there is so much in our lives, and i am missing the details because i am not slowing down enough to log them… so i am going to try and be more careful about looking around.  and about journaling the little things… for example:


~we got a playstation2

~we are go for homeschooling next year

~my mom made me a gorgeous sweater (handknit, woo hoo!!)

~we celebrated two years of marriage in may


i guess i just feel like if i don’t slow down and be thankful or blow off the occasional steam by writing my heart out that i am losing a part of me… so here i am… trying this again.  we’ll see how it goes.



•17 May, 2008 • 1 Comment

are finally blowing.  more soon… but i am feeling better!  the sorrow is lifting, and i can see grace instead of darkness.  Praise the God of Glory, for He is my everything and He has lifted me from the pit!!

•18 April, 2008 • Leave a Comment

i have read this book before.  when i asked for it for my birthday, i had no idea how badly i needed it.  i didn’t even expect to receive it, much less pick it up right away when i did.  i had forgotten how anne has this way of making you feel like you and your neurosis are in the room with her and her neurosis and together you are all having a cup of chai tea while watching the rain pour down the windows.  i need someone to be as neurotic as i am right now.  i need someone to say “our fears are the same”, and then hug me while we cry at our lack of courage.

and then, as i was reading last night, i came across a passage that i had forgotten about. and i don’t mean forgotten in the same way i did above, where i had simply lost track of the comfort i have when i read her words.  i mean forgot.  as in, didn’t know it was in the book.  when i read it, i cried, because i couldn’t say what she said.  and i have been trying for months.

All those years a lot of us fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible, and as privately. But what I’ve discovered since is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place, and that grieving alone heals grief. The passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone will not heal it…  

I’m pretty sure that it is only by experiencing it, that ocean of sadness, in a naked and immediate way, that we come to be healed, which is to say, come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace.

Grief, as someone wrote, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and then stops at loud and rageful, and the next it is wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence. 

… Jung said, some time after his beloved wife died, “It cost me a great deal to regain my footing. Now I am free to become who I truly am.” And this is God’s own truth: The more often I cried in my room… the more often I started having occasional moments of utter joy, of feeling aware of each moment shining for the utter moment of it. Little by little, pale and swollen around the eyes, I even began to feel a strange acceptance [of my loss].

I would begin to feel that I was becoming so holy and serene that I was probably going to end up dating the Dalai Lama. And then the rage and craziness would hit again, and I would be Winnie Ruth Judd. The depth of the feeling continued to surprise and threaten me, but it didn’t wash me away. Instead, it was like an inside shower, or like giving a dry garden a good watering. Don’t get me wrong, though: Grief sucks; it really does. Unfortunately, though, avoiding it robs us of life, of the now, of a sense of living spirit. So at first it seems that you’re doomed no matter how you cut. But then you cry and writhe and yell and cry some more; and then, finally, grief ends up being about the two best things: softness and illumination.

“softness and illumination” combined with “rage and craziness.”  that makes sense.  for two months i have been trying to reconcile the two… and here she is saying that they will ultimately reconcile themselves.  

so for now, i wait and i ask for help when i need it and i accept the peace and the rage and the crazy and the serenity all when it comes.  and i choose to stop bucking against these feelings and rest in God’s arms.  i am still grieving the loss of my son.  and to skip a step, like she says at first, will simply prolong my journey. because it is as true for me as it was for Jung that as i grieve, i am regaining my footing and becoming free to become (in a small and different way than losing a spouse or living friend) who i really am.  i am not my loss, i am not my children or my husband, i am not my knitting, i am not my digital scrapbooking, or my favorite books…

i am God’s child, whole and pure in His forgiveness, and that is all i ever need to be. 



•7 April, 2008 • 2 Comments




is what i had for breakfast this morning… yum!





•6 April, 2008 • 1 Comment

it sucks.  really really really sucks.  


that’s all.