Monday, August 18, 2008

My Last First Day

I went back to work today after the school summer recess. I'm an educational consultant, so I work when school is in session. It dawned on me that my year has revolved around the school schedule since 1952 when I entered kindergarten. Through elementary, high school and college, first days always represented new beginnings. In 1969, I began my teaching career and, for the next 40 years, the academic schedule continued to rule my life. Even during the few years that I took off to raise my children, either DH or my kids or all three of them went off to school ready to begin a new year. So for me, the start of school represents the start of a new year.

Now you might wonder why I’ve spent time thinking about the first day of the academic year. The reason is that this is my last year; I will retire in June 2009. I wonder how it will feel next August when the school year begins again without me.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

The Last Project


My mother, who passed away in May, was a talented knitter who taught me how to knit when I was a child. She knitted for her grandchildren, my father and herself, including a beautiful Irish fisherman cardigan made from yarn she bought on a trip to Ireland with my dad. In her later years, knitting became more difficult for her, but she wanted to continue, joining the knitting group at her senior housing complex. She made a prayer shawl and recently had been working on a scarf. She even asked me to bring it to the hospital during her last illness and she worked on it a little when she was well enough. When it became clear that she would not get well, she asked me to promise to finish it when she was gone.

I mentioned this to my sister who told me about a friend who had some knitting that she kept in her living room and friends were invited to add to it when they visited. We decided to bring Mom’s scarf to the reception after her funeral to have people add to it. Later I brought it to her Wednesday morning knitting thinking that group members might want to contribute to the project. One of the aides who cared for my mother and had helped her with her knitting said that she would add a few rows as well. What a fitting way for them to remember my mom. When I returned to pick it up, each person who added to the scarf signed the note I had left with it.

The basket with the unfinished scarf sat in my car and then in my family room for quite a while. I just couldn’t bring myself to work on it. I started other projects, but I didn’t seem to be able to finish anything. Then it dawned on me that I needed to fulfill my promise to my mom and finish the scarf. The first day, I touched the part that my mom had completed and felt the connection. I finished the scarf last night and now it is ready for its intended recipient. My promise to my mom has been kept and now I can get on with my own knitting.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Open Face Sandwich


It’s been a long time since I have posted anything on this blog. I have had other things on my plate: mostly work and caring for my elderly mother (pictured here). Although my children are grown, they are still on my mind, so feeling as if I was sandwiched between my immediate family – my sons and my husband – and my mother was the inspiration for this blog’s title, Knitting Between the Slices. The repetitive motion of knitting and the creation of each piece have helped to keep me calm through crises big and small.

Now one of the slices is gone. My mother’s health had been failing for the past year or so and on the Saturday before Mother’s Day she was taken to the hospital with pneumonia. Of course my knitting was in my tote bag in the car, so I had something to do while waiting for the diagnosis. My sister and niece had just arrived for the weekend, so my sister had her knitting, too. My niece was actually between projects, I think. My knitting got me through the week that followed, when she rallied briefly and then contracted a second pneumonia.

When my mom made the decision to refuse treatment, my sister returned so we could sit together in the hospital while our mother slipped away. My mom survived almost a week and, when we weren’t talking to our mom or the staff, we knitted. My sister actually finished several projects, while I started and frogged at least five different thing along the way. When we got the 4 AM call on May 24 to hurry to the hospital, we brought our knitting, thinking we would have time to knit and talk to our mother again, but she was gone by the time we arrived. Her passing was peaceful, and, although I will miss her terribly, I am glad to have been with her as her last wish was granted and I’m glad for the companionship of my sister and the knitting we share.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

ER Knitting

I seem to do some of my best knitting in the hospital emergency room. Of course that means that someone I love is ill, which is not so great. In the past it’s been my elderly mom. I actually started knitting again last spring after taking several years off because my mom was hospitalized for two weeks. My sister and niece came to Vermont during her hospitalization and they got me knitting again. All three of us sat in my mom’s room knitting together. Now I never travel without some knitting in my bag, since my mom has gone to the ER twice more.

This week it DH was in the hospital. Luckily he was only there overnight, but I overcame my SSS in the emergency room before he was admitted and I wore the socks the next day when I went to visit him. (A few months ago I finished my first pair of socks while he was in the ER for a kidney stone.) I started a new sweater the next day while we waiting for him to be discharged. It’s amazing how many knitters are on the hospital’s staff. Knitting seems to be a great conversation starter. An ER doc asked me where I bought my sock yarn because his wife enjoyed making socks. Several of the floor nurses and nursing assistants stopped by to discuss knitting and felting and I encouraged several people to check out Ravelry.

Knitting, like the piano, is a way to calm myself in times of stress. Unlike the piano, however, it also gives me an opportunity to connect with people in times of worry when I really need the distraction. I hope I don’t have any more ER knitting sessions, but I’ll continue to carry my knitting wherever I go.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Cat Tales

We have two cats adopted from the shelter – Calliope and Pattipaws (Cally and Patty respectively). My DH, who has long insisted that he does not like cats, really likes these two. However, he hates the litter box. In the 16+ years we have lived in this house, we have tried to find an appropriate place for this much needed accoutrement. It’s not so much of a problem when the weather is nice and they go out, but we live in Vermont where the weather is often NOT nice for long periods of time. The cats beg to go out, but when the door is opened, they look outside, turn around and walk away, leaving the door opener (and everyone else in the vicinity) freezing. The box has been in the downstairs bathroom, the upstairs hall, my sewing room, and in a spare room we used as a home gym. None of these places were acceptable to DH who complained of litter being tracked on the floors and the odor of a freshly used box.

After much discussion, he finally suggested the basement as an appropriate resting place for the box. He would put a pet door in the basement door so that we could leave the door closed. I argued that that it would be too much of a change for them to have to go through a pet door, so we decided on a graduated plan for the change. First, move the box downstairs to the basement and leave the basement door ajar. Next, cut a hole in the basement door, close the door and hope that they would go through the hole. And, finally, install the pet door and hope for the best. Sounded good to me, except for one major flaw - we live in an old farmhouse and the basement is often quite wet when the snow melts or we have a lot of rain (both common occurrences in VT).

To keep my little kitties’ feet dry, my husband made a trip to Home Depot and built a large platform at the bottom of the stairs which would ensure that both kitty and human feet would not have to wade through water. With the platform finished, the big day arrived. We carried the litter box to its new home in the basement. We brought Patty and Cally downstairs to visit their new loo and made sure the door was always ajar. It seemed perfectly simple.

There was another problem, however. Although the majority of the basement has a concrete floor, the area that houses the oil burner and oil tank is gravel. Oops – it looked like one big litter box to one of the girls. Another trip to Home Depot and we had builder’s plastic and marble chips to cover the gravel area. Now it looked like an even nicer big litter box. Back to the drawing board and Home Depot. This time DH returned with two by fours and chicken wire. He proceeded to build a wall to block off the gravel section of the basement with a chicken wire wall. However, since the oil burner lives in there, he needed to make a door with a latch so the oil burner tech could get in there for repairs and cleaning. By this time, the cost was high enough that I could have bought one of those fancy electric automatic cat boxes, but we were in too deep and he was determined!

Now with the oil burner safely caged lest it should go on a rampage, we should have been good to go – NOT. The next morning, DH went down to clean the box only to find that it was not being used by one of the girls. Instead he found a deposit next to the box right on his foot protecting platform. He cleaned up and moved the box over the offending spot. The next morning the deposit was in front of the box. This continued for several days. Now what??? DH wanted to go the pet store for advice – I wanted to go to the pet store to buy a second litter box. I won. The second litter box was placed next to the first and (knock wood) the problem seems to be solved. And, as an added bonus, we have a great cage in the basement should we ever decide to breed little oil burners or lock up intruders.

Stay tuned for what happens when he cuts the hole in the door and puts in the pet door. I shudder to think…