Itchy Twitchy

Another thing that I love to do besides knitting and crocheting is reading.  A few years ago, I discovered www.paperbackswap.com.  Essentially, you list books that you are willing to part with.  When another member orders one of your books, you send it to them.  All you have to do is pay for the postage to mail it out, which is usually between $1.50 and $3.00.  For every book you send out, you get one credit.  You can then use this credit to order a book from any other member.  It has been a great source for me to find some out of print books, or books I just wasn't sure would be worth spending money on.  Once you receive the book, you can do whatever you'd like with it.  Keep it, swap it again, give it to a friend...anything.  The book is yours.
Quite a while ago, I put the book Knit 2 Together by Tracy Ullman and Mel Clark on my wish list.  Yesterday, it came.  I have not been knitting much lately, simply because it's summer time.  It's been very hot.  I'm busy doing outside stuff. Mainly taking Ladybug to the town beach.  I'm always afraid to bring my knitting to the lake because sand manages to get in everything.  Unfortunately, knitting has been set aside.
Soooo, long story short, I'm aching to knit.  I spent yesterday afternoon practically drooling over some of the beautiful designs in this book.  And in the midst of one of the hottest weeks this summer, I am attracted to the adorable hooded sweater made with a wool/microfiber blend.  I simply can't make this right now.  Even though the temperature has dropped some, it's still too hot to knit a sweater made from lamb fur.  But my fingers are tingling to cast this sweater on for Ladybug to wear this fall.  What to do, what to do...

Milestones

I had started another blog at the beginning of 2012.  I have since deleted it.  I figured I could just mark the milestones here on this blog.  It was going to be about all of the milestones that are happening in my life this year.  The first one was back in May when Bud turned 16.  But, we know waht happened less than a week before, so I didn't post anything about my "little" boy having a milestone birthday.  (And if you don't know what happened, you can read about it here.)   And then we found out that my mom is going to have open heart surgery this summer for a birth defect that she was just recently diagnosed with.  So some seriously unhappy stuff has been happening this year.

Today, however is another milestone for me.  One I wouldn't change for anything.  Today, the Man and I celebrate 10 years of marriage.  We have been together for 18, but didn't decide to make the lifelong commitment to one another until 10 years ago.  Because we had been together for 8 years and already had a child together, we kept it simple.  We got married on my parents deck, wearing jeans and t-shirts.  The Man and I don't like to dress up very much, so instead of sttressing out about tux rentals and wedding gown shopping, we decided to do what we wanted.  Bud was our ring bearer (or Ring Bear, as he said at the time), and my twin neices were the flower girls.  It is one of my favorite days of my entire life.

Tonight, we are going to a wedding of a former co-worker who is very dear to me.  I can't imagine a better way to celebrate our commitment to one another than being part of another couples promise of a lifetime.  At the beginning of 2012, I had no idea that this is how I would be spending this milestone.  I wouldn't want to do it any differently.

Frail

Growing up, I always felt my dad was the strongest man in the world.  Of course, that's a natural thing for a little girl to think.  But part of it was that he was tall and hefty.  I was a very petite little girl and looking up at his 6'2" frame, to me, meant he must be strong.  And, in reality he was strong.  Very strong.  He had his own carpentry business, so therefore he was hauling shingles up ladders, lumber around job sites and moving heavy power tools.  Looking back, I think the best way to describe him back then is robust.  And muscular.  And...well,...strong.  A child often sees their dad as the most amazing person in the world.  For me, my dad was indestructable.  Superman-like.  Even when he was injured, he wasn't hurt.

In June of 1996, my father was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma.  At the time, they gave him six years to live.  That was if he went through all kinds of treatments.  If he decided to do nothing, six months to a year.  He had his first two grandchildren, and there was no way he was going to miss out on watching them grow up.  Thus started the treatments.  Chemo.  Radiation.  A bone marrow transplant in 2002.  There was no question in any of our minds.  He was going to beat this thing.

And here it is, 2012, and Pop has out-lived all predictions.  Some of the treatments he has had were experimental and are now obsolete.  Some worked, some didn't.  But he was able to see my nephew and Bud reach the age of 16 my twin neices the age of 14, and Ladybug the age of 7.  He is now back on chemo, again.

Saturday night, our church group went to a minor league baseball game.  Looking at Pop, sittting a few seats down from me, I was taken off guard.  His arms and legs looked so thin. So weak.  He looked so...frail.  I literally had to swallow back the tears.  At almost forty years old, I finally noticed the toll that cancer had taken on his body.  He isn't Superman, no matter what my inner five-year-old might think.

Cancer sucks.

Jackie Whiton: A Must See!

If you haven't heard about Jackie Whiton and her plight, please watch this.  I know Jackie, and I'm proud to say that I support her and the stand she is making.

http://www.wmur.com/news/nh-news/Peterborough-clerk-says-she-was-fired-over-EBT-cards/-/9857858/15276636/-/3n84t/-/index.html

Let it be known that Jackie is making a stand about welfare, not the loss of her job.

Back to Needles

It has been quite a week in my home.  Everything going on with Bud has sent us all into a tailspin. We've been doing a lot outside with Ladybug due to the nice weather. School is winding down. Seven school days left for Bud, eight school days left for Ladybug. (The first winter in my life when there were NO snow days. I think it is a New Hampshire first.)  And I recently found out that my mom is going in for open heart surgery sometime this summer.  What is one to do with all of this chaos?

Knit.
And knit and knit and knit.
And then knit some more. 

And that's exactly what I've been doing.  I have some projects going that I will share once they are completed.  The big thing I'm working on is a shawl for my mom for her hospital stay.  I brought a lot of my UFO's closer to FO's this week. I honestly think knitting saved my sanity.

Having The Rug Pulled Out From Under Me

That's exactly how I feel right now.  A few months ago (Late December or early January, I can't remember which) The Man and I discovered that Bud, our 15 year old son was smoking marijuana.  After the standard "Where did we go wrong?" feelings we sat him down for a talk.  He promised he'd stop, and we let it go at that.  Some might say that we were naive for doing such a thing, but you have to understand, Bud has always been an honest kid.  Sometimes brutally so.  Looking back, I wonder if this is why we believed him, or if it was because of "Not MY kid" sydrome.  We really wanted to beleive him.  We thought he was a curious kid who experimented a bit.  Most of my formative years were during the Reagan administration, and I embraced Nancy Reagan's "Just Say NO!" campaign whole heartedly.  The Man, who is eight years older than me, had a MUCH different time as a teenager.  We are two parents who, as teenagers, had very different experiences.  The Man can talk to Bud about all of the negative effects of certain drugs first-hand.  I can just say "Don't do it.  It's bad.  It's illeagal"  (Not very effective, I know.)

Fast forward to April.  April 20th to be exact.  You know what April 20th is, right?  Or should I say, 4-20?  Apparently, in the pot-smoking community, 4:20 is the universal time to light up, so 4-20 is an entire day to light up.  With the help of an at home drug test (CVS for around $15), my suspicions were confirmed.  He had smoked in the last 30 days.  Anger, hurt, betrayel and more "Where did we go wrong?" feelings came flooding at me.  This time we stressed about the value of trust and how he broke it.  We also made it perfectly clear that if he was ever caught, he was on his own.  We would not bail him out, come to his rescue, or anything like that.  Once again, a promise of not doing it again.  This time, we only half believed him, and cautiously, slowly, returned some privelages we had revoked.

Yesterday, at 2:14, only 4 minutes after school had been dismissed, I got a call from one of the deans.  They had caught Bud buying and he was currently high.  That's when the rug was pulled out from under me, the wind knocked out of me, you could have knocked me over with a feather, and a bunch of other cliches.  After scrambling to find a place for ladybug to go after school, I headed to the high school located in the next town.  WHY?  Why would he do this?  How could he continue to lie to us?  (And of course) WHERE DID WE GO WRONG?  Then, like a ton of bricks, it hit me.  We didn't go wrong anywhere.  We taught him about right and wrong.  We had told him that even if he didn't agree with the law, it was still the law and he had to obey it.  This was NOT my fault.  This was NOT my decision.  These were NOT my actions.  I am a good parent.  And so is The Man.  We have done our best, and made our fair share of mistakes.  But we are overall good parents.

And now, facing charges of possesion, he has the opportunity to basically be an "informant" to the local police.  Give them credible information about drug activity at the school, and they'll drop the charges.  The officer who was at the school when I got there basically said that they wanted to be able to curb some of the stuff going on.  Essentially, There's bigger fish to fry.  He told Bud to think about it.  He has plenty of time to think.  He's on a three day suspension.  Which means, because it's a holiday weekend, he doesn't go back to school until next Friday.  He turns 16 on Thursday.  I don't think it's going to be a very happy birthday for Bud this year.  I hope he remembers it.

The Monkees

Those of you who read this on a regular basis know that I'm a fan of the Beatles.  But did you know that I'm also a fan of the Monkees?  Oh, yeah.  Not as hard-core as the Beatles, but a fan, just the same.  My very first concert was the the Monkees on November 20, 1986 (with my sister L and best friend at the time, M) when they were doing the 20th reunion tour.  I was 14 years old.  (I'm 39 now, for those who are mathmatically inept.  I won't be 40 for a few months.)  I discovered the Monkees and the Beatles around the same time. And while I have always appreciated the Beatles, my preference for the Monkees has waxed and waned over the years.  Out of nowhere, this song came to me the other day and it has been stuck in my head ever since.

Which, I don't quite get.  It's not a better known song of theirs. (When most people think of the Monkees, they either think of the theme song, or "Daydream Believer".  I mean no disrespect to Davy Jones, or his family, but that song was overplayed when he passed away back in February.)  But there was something about this song that I've just always liked.  The tune, the melody, the vocals...I don't know.  I just like it. 

And, as with the Beatles a couple of months ago, this may be another obsession, so don't be surprised if I post more Monkees stuff.