Unfinished Business

Unfinished Business...

Do you have any unfinished projects in your life? Have you knit a sweater that needs just one more sleeve? Do you have a bag of quilt blocks all cut out that has been in your hope chest for several decades? HOPE Chest. Hope it will finish itself? How about that tub full of 99 granny squares crying out to be bound together and thrown in a colourful heap over your couch? Or those socks that have a nice long leg, but just have not made it around the corner—you haven’t turned the heel.

Just one more sleeve...

There’s probably a name for the person who starts projects but doesn’t finish them. Procrastinator? And there’s probably another name for the person who accepts other people’s unfinished projects. Sucker? Barb???

Other People's Projects

Several years ago, my sister Kathy set out to make a pair of socks for one of our favourite relatives on the occasion of his 50^th birthday. She got off to a good start, but our John turned 65 last October and he still doesn’t have the socks. 

Still no Socks

We joked about it for a few years, then Kathy got serious.

“Barb, why don’t you finish those socks for John? You knit all the time, anyway. They’re almost done. I just can’t turn the heel." 

Right. Turning the heel. Not my favourite thing in the world to do, but how could I say no? I owe her for electricity, the beachfront and teasing her mercilessly in childhood.“Sure, I’ll finish the socks. No problem.”

Turning the Heel

As soon as I took possession of the aging socks, their completion became urgent in Kathy’s eyes. Every time she phoned, she would ask, “Barb, have you finished John’s socks, yet?”

Knitting 911

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?! What’s taking so long?!”

“Well, you had them for 13 years and you didn’t finish them. Don’t rush me!”

Emotional Knitting

Finally, I finished one sock. It looked like it would fit a troll. Misshapen, too long in the leg, too wide in the foot. 

Fit for a Troll

John, a trim man, looks nothing like a troll. He’s a hard worker with a tractor, 6 grandchildren and slender feet. He deserves socks that fit.

Slender-Foot

Next phone call from my taskmaster:
“Barb, did you finish John’s socks?”
“I finished one. It looks terrible.”
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like, Barb. Just finish the other one.  Get it done!” Click.

Troll Sock and a Half

The outcome of sock number one is discouraging. I have no incentive to go on and no ambition to rip it out and start again. Instead of re-fashioning the Troll Socks, I’ve spent the winter sitting on the couch watching reruns of The Closer. These two activities are not unrelated. Deputy-Chief Brenda Leigh Johnston is famous for her talent in CLOSING cases. She tidies up loose ends and unfinished business for the LAPD. She would have John’s socks finished in an hour! I wonder if she knits. 

Deputy-Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson

Alas, the socks rest in a sad, ripped bag in my living room, ugly and unfinished. John, a non-troll man with cold feet, continues to age. He’s coming up on 66. Is there anyone out there who will take on this Unfinished Business? Susan????

Unfinished Business

...Until Next Time...

KISS: Keep it Simple, Sometimes!

KISS: Keep it Simple, Sometimes

Today’s technology is fascinating, dynamic and largely beyond my comprehension. Self-driving cars. Siri. Drones that deliver groceries to your door. It's amazing.

Drone Delivery

Then there is yesterday’s technology. Overwhelmed by the glitz of modern advances, do we fail to appreciate the "simple" technology of yore? Consider knitting needles, for example. “Sticks” as one of my favourite knitting students called them at her first lesson.

Sticks

With those plain steel double-pointed needles and a couple of balls of yarn, I can make beautiful mittens. Simple.

Mittens in Progress

I spend hours musing about the technology of sticks and knitting.

Knitting and Musing 

And then there is my Amazing Applesauce Maker, a wonderful piece of yesterday's technology I inherited from my mother. I love it. Look at those legs!

Applesauce Maker circa 1940s

I cook the apples whole, stalks and all.

Pot of Apples

Then I dump those apples in the Amazing Applesauce Maker and crush the softened mash with the wooden pestle. The process is most satisfying. 

Softened Mash

It is remarkable how little waste is left after this process. So efficient! So simple! 

Apple Waste

And I end up with applesauce that looks like this! Trust me, it's simply delicious.

Delicious Applesauce

And if you need instructions on how to knit or how to make applesauce, you just go to YouTube!  New technology helps keep old technology alive!

Technology moves forward at lightning speed and most of us are along for the ride, knitting needles in one hand and cellphone in the other! 

...Until Next Time...

The Learning Curve

The Learning Curve

Proceed with Caution

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about learning. As you know, I am a retired teacher, so I’ve always thought about learning, but I’m not referring to “school” learning. I’m talking about things I learned that are so important to me now in my “leisure” years. 

Ahhh...

Like swimming. I learned to swim when I was about six at my grandfather’s beach under the patient guidance of my Uncle John and Aunt Muriel. Thank you for teaching me to swim! Fifty-four years later, I still swim frequently, and I love it! My life would be less if I did not have my swimming.

At Grampy's Beach circa 1963

And knitting. If you read my blog, you know I spend a lot of hours on the needles. What would I do without that? How could I possibly justify the hours I spend with Netflix if I was not doing something productive at the same time? You see, I also learned the Protestant Work Ethic to a degree along the way. 

Protestant Work Ethic

I learned to knit in my grandfather’s parlour under the careful tutelage of my Aunt Audrey. Thank you Audrey! She also gave me my first taste of alcohol in that very parlour where alcohol was strictly forbidden. So in addition to knitting, I learned how to break the rules a bit, and that sherry is not meant to be gulped. Sip it.

Fine Old Sherry

And reading. Well, I don’t exactly remember the one moment I caught on to reading. I guess that was a team effort between home and school. I remember Dick and Jane readers in Grade Two. I loved them. I loved Spot and and Puff and Zeke and Sally and Mother and Father and that car. That perfect life they had. 

See Sally Run!

And I remember the first book I read at home, Arty the Smarty. I recommend it. Reading. God, how empty my life would be without that. Thank you Dick and Jane and Arty the Smarty!

Arty, Bold and Curious

So here is an exercise for you: Think of 3 things you love to do. Who taught you how to do them? Maybe you would like to thank them. If they are in heaven, you could send a prayer.

...Until Next Time...

Uncle Abe's Underwear

 Today's Featured Mittens

Strawberries and Cream

 

Jeaneology 

      This time last year, I was coordinating a family history event under the direction  of  my 91-year-old Aunt Jean.  The purpose of the event was for living family members to get to know our ancestors who were born in the 1800s.  Our family has diaries, letters and photos from our foremothers and forefathers of that era so we had material to use for research.  Each participant chose one ancestor to research and present at our history exchange which we named "Jean"-eology" after Aunt Jean and her idea. 

 

Uncle Abe

       One of the stories that came out of the Jeaneology initiative involved Uncle Abe and knitting.  Uncle Abe,born in 1853, was my great-great uncle.  In this picture below, we estimate him to be about 10 or 12 so the photo was taken in about 1865.

 

Uncle Abe Holder

(1853-1949)

 

     The following excerpt from the memoir of my cousin Donna Tone, gives a glimpse into the life of the sea-going bachelor, Abraham Holder.

 

     "Uncle Abe knit his own grey long underwear. He knit his mittens as well but did not know how to put in the thumbs so wore them thumbless. My grandmother offered him mittens she had knit but he refused them. His own were fine, he said.

                                                                                                                       

 (Perhaps Uncle Abe's knitted underwear looked like these!)

     One cold winter day there was a big commotion. I saw my grandfather rushing Uncle Abe in from outside, practically yelling, “Holder, your thumbs are frozen!” Uncle Abe denied it, doing a little jig in the kitchen to show he was fine. My grandfather immersed his hands in the wash basin, Uncle Abe protesting all the while. The next day he showed my grandfather he now had thumbs in his mittens. He had wrapped yarn thickly around his thumbs and that is what he did daily for the rest of the winter."   (Written by Donna Tone)

 

 

Texters/Smokers

       I think of my Great-Uncle Abe when I make my thumbless/fingerless mittens for today's discriminating texter/smoker.  I began this new line of mittens this winter at the request of Cousin Carrie.  They became quite popular!  Perhaps I should name the collection after Uncle Abe somehow.  The Uncle Abe Collection.  Any suggestions??

 

SnowFlurries at Night

 

 

Evening in Paris

 

 

EarthenWare

 

 

 

 Pebbles in the Stream

 

 

 Starry, Starry Night

 

 

 

 

 Bling Bling

 

 

 

Until Next Time......

 

 

Knitting in Custody

Today's Featured Mitts

Pebbles in the Stream

(Texter/Smoker Fingerless Mittens)

 

 

Knitting Behind Bars 

 

           Michelle, a former colleague of mine, recently sent me an article about men in a Maryland prison learning how to knit (link to article).  The article explains that initially when the knitting instructor, Lynn Zwerling, offered to teach the prisoners how to knit, the burly prisoners were not very interested.  Once started, however, it has become the most popular class in prison.  Over the last two years Zwerling and her associates have taught more than 100 prisoners to knit and there are several names on the waiting list to get into her class.  The men started out making comfort dolls for children being removed from their homes due to domestic issues.  They then moved on to making hats for under-privileged children.  Zwerling believes the men have found the "zen" nature of knitting.  The assistant warden observes that the dynamic within the knitting class is soothing and calm, and that this dynamic goes with the men when they leave knitting class to return to the mainstream of the institution.  When Zwerling was asked in an interview if the men were reluctant knitters, her response was, "They want to knit, they just don't know they want to knit."

 

 

The High School Knitting Club

(Chapter 1)

        This prison article reminded me of a "knitting in custody" experience I had in my career as a high school teacher.  At the suggestion of some of my students who knew I was a knitter, one year I started a noon hour knitting club at our high school.  The club was a moderate success, attracting a diverse group of teens who were interested in learning how to knit and how to drink tea.  (I was known to have the occasional tea party for my various English classes.)

 

        The Knitting Club was rather fluid and relaxed as far as rules, and the students came and went to the weekly meetings.  The closet in my classroom held all the tools necessary for a Knitting Club---needles, yarn, teacups, teapot, teakettle, teabags, the occasional package of cookies.  The Knitting Club was a comfortable place to be and I did actually teach some people how to knit! 

 

 

Knitting in Detention 

(Chapter 2)

       During this period of my career, I was not a fan of detentions as a classroom management tool.  There were times, however, when I was forced to impose detentions to comply with school rules. There came a day when I had to impose detentions on one of my homeroom students, John,  for his repeated tardiness.  I had a good relationship with the young man and he was totally cooperative when I told him he had to come to my classroom at noon hour to serve a detention.  I was not content with him sitting there doing nothing and since he had no schoolwork to do, I gave him a tangled mess of yarn that needed to be untangled and rolled into a ball.  I got him started and I worked at my desk while he quietly finished winding the yarn.  When his period of incarceration was over, I released him back into the halls of the school.  The next day he inquired about joining the knitting club.  I encouraged him, of course, and he came to the next meeting and untangled a few more messes. 

 Knitting and Hockey

(Chapter 3)

           Shortly after this incident, one Saturday morning I was walking through a parking lot near my home when I heard someone calling my name.  I looked up to see John, my detention/homeroom student, about to board a yellow school bus.  "Mrs. Fullerton," he yelled across the parking lot.  "I learned how to cast on last night."

         "Really?" I responded, rather surprised at his enthusiasm.  "Who taught you how to do that?"

         "YouTube," he answered.  This was before YouTube was very popular and it was definitely a new field for this middle-aged knitting teacher.  I was impressed but did not want to scare him off with an over-zealous response.   

          "And I bought some white yarn this morning," he added.  "I'm going to knit my mom a scarf." 

         "That's great, John. And where are you off to today?" I asked. 

         "Playing hockey in Harvey," he replied.  "Gonna knit on the bus.  See ya Monday!"

         "Yeah, see you Monday," I answered as he boarded the bus, hockey bag in one hand, knitting bag in the other.

 

 

 

 

        Until Next Time........

 

 

 

Turnip Tags

 

 

Today's Featured Mittens

Evening in Paris

 

        When I started naming mittens, I used the backs of old cards to make labels.  After all, recycling and being cheap is part of my "philosophy". I cut the card backs into star shapes, labeled them and tied them to my mittens.  Example below---"Rainbow Through the Fundy Fog".

Rainbow Through the Fundy Fog

 

              A few months into the mitten-making craze, I remembered the turnip tags I had recently been given by my sister Kathy during her clean-up of the family homestead woodshed.  She had proudly and sarcastically gifted them to me as part of my inheritance.  The turnip tags carry a great deal of memory and were the perfect size to work as mitten labels. 

Turnip Tags 

 

 Memories on the front.....

Moss Glen

 

 

Mitten names on the back.......

Candy Cane

A Turnip Tag Memory:

 When I was a little girl (how many stories start out with this line?), growing up on a mixed farm, everyone in the family had jobs from a very early age.  Although I do not remember the actual incident because I was only three years old at the time, my subsequent work experiences and memories confirms it as truth.  Family legend has it that I was invited to go to visit my Aunt Gladys and her family for a sleepover.  I was very happy to go to her house to visit as the recent birth of my sister had displaced me as the baby in our house.  When I visited Aunt Gladys' house, I was the baby again.  And there was a houseful of people to dote on me, including her elderly parents-in-law.  On this particular visit, I was only allowed to go if I took my work with me.  My job, at age 3, was to string turnip tags on three foot lengths of baler twine.  We used the tagged twine to sew up the top of 5o pound burlap bags of turnips, one of the vegetables we sold from our farm.  So I took my turnip tags and baler twine and went to Aunt Gladys's house.  Once there, Grandpa Harry, Aunt Gladys' father-in-law, felt sorry for me and did my work for me.  Thank you, Grandpa Harry!

 

 

Until next time.................