tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55569926005870495982024-02-06T21:51:13.347-05:00epKnits...the life and times of a knitting papa.;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-55099070640226185222013-04-30T22:54:00.002-04:002013-04-30T22:54:24.712-04:00Spring's Sprung
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If we go by what has happened historically, it feels as if
spring in Cincinnati is practically non-existent; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we go from the cold of winter to the heat of summer with a
day or two of spring in between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Trees do go into full bloom and all, but temperature-wise, things just
don’t compute in these logical brains of ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least around me, it feels as if we have all lowered our
expectations around spring, hope to see spring, or even begin to remember what
the season would/should feel like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ironically, this year, it feels as if spring has finally come to us (or
sprung, if you’ll allow me) with the beautiful blooms, the crisp cool weather,
and some of those showers that bring flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are waking up to the birds chirping, and it finally feels
like spring… you know, it feels like summer is trying to make its way but
continues to play tug of war with winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Spring has finally lasted more than just a couple of days, but many of
us still don’t seem to understand that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this
</i>is spring.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib98K0KTesqcORRbPEz6Os9JXwOidgYeCbP6_b0wb8UryuK5E0RSGcSjiUJ2tTo0XElGnKsVMYWwlweG7RY-5b4Kr0ggqKALVN2BEoFa5cxwtswt-tR9PMjqW1UUauz6uMzUs-Ng8yFrc/s1600/IMG_1118_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib98K0KTesqcORRbPEz6Os9JXwOidgYeCbP6_b0wb8UryuK5E0RSGcSjiUJ2tTo0XElGnKsVMYWwlweG7RY-5b4Kr0ggqKALVN2BEoFa5cxwtswt-tR9PMjqW1UUauz6uMzUs-Ng8yFrc/s200/IMG_1118_2.jpg" width="133" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But we are not all unappreciative of the beauty this spring has
brought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple of weeks back, I
was reading my Facebook posts and I caught one from my beautiful friend,
Rebeca, commenting on a series of conversations she had had with her son,
Marcus, over the period of a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The post read, “Marcus and I have studied the subject during the drive
to school for a whole week and have decided that the best adjective to describe
a cherry tree, in a perfect bloom, is ‘frothy.’”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved everything about that post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagined the conversation between the
two – having witnessed their interactions often – and the tone of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagined their agreement and their
awe-inspiring realization that “frothy” was indeed the perfect adjective for a
cherry tree in full bloom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
epitome of spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved
everything about that interaction and I loved that post.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>With <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i> spring
so many things have come to bloom! </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Through this blog, I have shared the beauty and the
challenges of raising a child – my child – in this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been many highs and
lows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always been so proud
of him and love him to the moon and back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And… we still struggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(Isn’t that the human condition?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This month, with spring, came a bit of a change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jon and I went back to monitoring P’s
work a little more, but with a little more leeway to allow him space and time
to grow, or as his teachers and counselors put it, “allow him the opportunity
to develop ownership of the process.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(I think I’m paraphrasing that statement.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pablo seems to be doing better with school and I hope that
in this great arc of being a teenager,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>this is not a blip on the radar, but a gradual maturing of my son into
his own space.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Speaking of maturing, with this spring, my son also
experienced his first shave, the continued interest in friends, “hanging out”,
and a spring dance with tons of dancing, screaming, and joy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is happening?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m happy for him and this new world he faces… and still go back to the
baby I cradled - missing him sometimes.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The ocean floor is vast...</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On a personal note, this spring, I started my new
professional adventure:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a new job
with an amazing company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Every day, I am reminded that I made the right move leaving the comfort
of my old job to explore the world with this new one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many years ago, a coach of mine shared the allegory of a
little crustacean which had outgrown its shell at the bottom of the ocean floor
and had to make a decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Do I
stay here and die from outgrowing the space or do I risk my life to crawl out –
unprotected – on the bottom of this ocean floor to find a new, bigger
home?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If nature kicks in, the
crustacean leaves its shell and risks its life for the sake of survival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you imagine how scary it is to know
that at any point in time, you can be “taken out” by a higher life in the ocean?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaving a company for which you have
worked for 18 years, and going to a new one is pretty much like walking that
ocean floor unprotected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
that I have found a new home, but until I have gotten my sea legs (still
continuing with this ocean theme), I will continue to feel … well…
unprotected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s okay, I
think.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our world around us continues to grow and change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all continue to change.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Bloomin’ Trails</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Last fall, my sister and I were walking the streets of
NYC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a window display in
Rockefeller Center, I saw a very simple ribbed cowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no idea what it was about that cowl that caught my
eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because spring is so elusive,
fall is probably my favorite season, and that cowl said, “fall”!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, it took me all winter to
imagine what that cowl really meant to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In an exaggerated fashion, I wanted something big and bulky,
cozy, and inspiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I went to
work with one of my favorite yarns:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Burly Spun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to my
most favorite thing to do in knitting:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>cables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I designed an
enormous rectangle with braids and cables that in the end would zip up (with a
double-ended zipper).</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEf22MvcF4nA83b8Ieec0TJu986vhD_QO2Q4_zvSGVxZrvcB4NKXRQxmF-oZ1R66qw4n5cMzc5kYqpXNDGpjw0UFzfGPu3UcYP37NpWZ97Mkm6rN8vlim4V4-jRYxl_ky8NgDlhLE52E/s1600/IMG_1115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEf22MvcF4nA83b8Ieec0TJu986vhD_QO2Q4_zvSGVxZrvcB4NKXRQxmF-oZ1R66qw4n5cMzc5kYqpXNDGpjw0UFzfGPu3UcYP37NpWZ97Mkm6rN8vlim4V4-jRYxl_ky8NgDlhLE52E/s200/IMG_1115.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The cable pattern is a simple intertwine of my relationships
with all my loved ones overlapping and crossing back and forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The braids on either side frame
the journey and feel like the guardrails of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in the field, we have time and space to play, but we
are all moving toward something, a future.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I remember the day I finished the work, but most
importantly, the day that the knitted piece came back from the tailor – I asked
my tailor to put in the zipper for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I put it on, I felt spring had sprung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt as if a series of experiences had bloomed in the
“space” of the cowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I realize that there have been many sad things happening around us. I leave you with my wish that each of us uses this time of change for renewal, to celebrate the good things that have happened, and to hope for better things yet to come. Spring has sprung and I hope our hearts do, too. :)e-</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A big thank you to Demirus who so elegantly and naturally played with the ideas we presented and with such fun made this photo shoot and the "product" such a beauty. :)e-</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Could I have found a little part of myself tucked away for many years inside my own self? Today? In my forty-somethings? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How did I find it? What opened up to allow me to see it? And if I found that little part of my true self, could I have more waiting to be discovered?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For Christians around the world, this week is very special. This Holy Week is the conclusion of Lent, a period of preparation through prayer, penance, and repentance to receive the Jesus' resurrection and ascension to Heaven. To the surprise of many, I still consider myself to be a Catholic man - not because I was raised Catholic, but because I have chosen (and choose every day) to be Catholic. Questions are often thrown at me about how I can reconcile being Catholic when the Catholic church thinks less of me than It thinks of others, doesn't recognize my family, or continues to tout that this man that God made (i.e., I) is a matter of choice not a matter of being. But I don't see any of it that way. More importantly, I don't <i>feel</i> any of it that way, and at the end of the day, that is the funny thing about religion: it's not just about intellect, but it is about feeling. I like the ritual. I grew up with Jesuit priests in high school and college. My family attends Mass with Jesuits. And to me, these men have been my guides, my teachers, my dads, my leaders, my family. They remind me of the reason we exist and coexist. They inspire me. And they remind me of that personal and so intimate relationship I have with God. It is <i>my</i> relationship with God - no one else's. Interestingly, on this Easter Sunday, I was once again reminded of why I am a Catholic man and why my spirit is inspired when I share in Mass with others.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdO7c5zsDYRboXp3__tThPkCiznD3af42q8zYfOnuap0MMWWkgSwxYvoBI4BsNvHZ_pUCjyY_E52Ruuoyibliu-ftpcoVHiZXvoQ9SiVnmH9jBj2bCgvT1IDR7NKTePyD563JMRxG78g/s1600/IMG_0975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdO7c5zsDYRboXp3__tThPkCiznD3af42q8zYfOnuap0MMWWkgSwxYvoBI4BsNvHZ_pUCjyY_E52Ruuoyibliu-ftpcoVHiZXvoQ9SiVnmH9jBj2bCgvT1IDR7NKTePyD563JMRxG78g/s200/IMG_0975.jpg" width="133" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I also consider myself to be a yogi, a practitioner of yoga. (I just clarify that a yogi is simply a practitioner, not a guru.) In yoga, I have found peace, quiet, the ability to hear myself, and to little-by-little shed the noise that has covered up my true self. I have shared some stories with you about how I found the ability to breathe through yoga. In studying philosophy, anatomy, and asanas (the poses) in the yoga teacher training, I have discovered that there are two major components to most practices: one physical which draws most of us in, and one spiritual which keeps us "in" if we allow it. For me and still to this day, both of these components - the spiritual and the physical - tend to get all convoluted. In the asana practice, when all seems so tough, my mind goes ablaze. I can't think. Meditation is a distant lover. And breathing - the core of asana practice - often seems impossible. Ugh. But there is such emotional joy in all of that at the same time. It's oxymoronic, I know. On the other hand, when I meditate, my body doesn't seem to be able to hold me up. It aches. It is impatient. It bothers. All I can think of is what one of my teachers often says, "we practice asanas to build the body strong so that we can meditate." Right. But there is such beauty in quieting the mind. There is such a wonderful challenge in stilling one's self. There is such a light. There is such hope.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Funnily, the groove I find in my yoga meditation, or in prayer at church is the same groove I find when I knit. In both yoga and in Mass, we chant as a way to open up and allow the greater universe to bathe us with its wisdom. When I knit, every stitch feels like part of a chant. There, I find peace, too.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Really?</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My mother who just recently turned 85 and thinks she is in her 50s (bless her heart) quoted a friend of ours the other day describing me as having an inner peace. It is the second time I have heard this compliment (thank you to both parties who shared!). And I am still confused. LOL! Me? Inner peace? ...seriously?!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I look at my friends' posts on Facebook - especially those with children my son's age, and I know that we all have our ups and downs and sometimes we seem to live more in our downs than our ups... Even those friends without children have tough issues in their lives and those are no less than mine. I feel lost half of the time I am parenting. (Where is that darn parenting workbook?! Someone publish it soon!) I feel confused most of the time when I am trying to figure out what is next for myself and my loved ones. I yearn for some greater power to guide me and show me the path. In that moment, I don't feel special, and I don't feel that inner peace... well, at least not all the time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbNuu7ewbb0_2qTkKT2L747tcsbpjSW4A1YZINDeVoUFwL45pLoR08YXausJUgDDOLAgOItf10NZ1DWs9PM9dEiu298yv-GPEyC17oMaNGHC574SVvBtkgKtnnrrCe63PBtcx02H8eBI/s1600/IMG_0922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbNuu7ewbb0_2qTkKT2L747tcsbpjSW4A1YZINDeVoUFwL45pLoR08YXausJUgDDOLAgOItf10NZ1DWs9PM9dEiu298yv-GPEyC17oMaNGHC574SVvBtkgKtnnrrCe63PBtcx02H8eBI/s320/IMG_0922.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I do know one thing, however, I feel that <i>I know myself better</i> today than I did a few months ago - let alone a few years or decades ago. For that, I am grateful (and a little scared).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdlaThkVHTa2pfTVm164j6QHiR0K3RF7RCDTkwBCUwOPJOTTnCZ3HArI3qE7PIJPSWBAaiOSsulC6Nu53DavM365za2-_U2QqGJaSSw1W8eUyUt_dmIvQpjiLAuHu9tDeXd-Ku3u_cUo/s1600/IMG_0992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdlaThkVHTa2pfTVm164j6QHiR0K3RF7RCDTkwBCUwOPJOTTnCZ3HArI3qE7PIJPSWBAaiOSsulC6Nu53DavM365za2-_U2QqGJaSSw1W8eUyUt_dmIvQpjiLAuHu9tDeXd-Ku3u_cUo/s200/IMG_0992.jpg" width="133" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Throughout March, I have been thinking quite a bit about how I got here. The "westerner" side of my brain wants to know so that my brain can harness the pattern and reapply it. (It's so corporate, ain't it?) My feeler side which leans more toward the eastern practices reminds me to "let it be". Live it. The feeler side is winning... but I also keep thinking about Yoga and Catholicism trying to pinpoint who got me here, and I truly cannot say that it is one versus the other.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdlaThkVHTa2pfTVm164j6QHiR0K3RF7RCDTkwBCUwOPJOTTnCZ3HArI3qE7PIJPSWBAaiOSsulC6Nu53DavM365za2-_U2QqGJaSSw1W8eUyUt_dmIvQpjiLAuHu9tDeXd-Ku3u_cUo/s1600/IMG_0992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In this last year, my son discovered he liked the Rasta colors (yellow, green, and red). Interestingly, he admits that he knows very little about the Rastafari movement. Well... if my son is going to sport those colors, I knew I needed to inform myself about what this was. Come to find out, it is no different than many of the things we try to do: research, study, learn and grow. Rastas do not consider Rastafari to be a religion but an ideology and a way of life which similar to what I am doing with yoga, religion, and my education is a fabric with a number of threads and/or stitches. The Rastafari movement takes from Christianity and Judaism, believing in many of the same ideas most of us were taught and feeling much of the same feelings we do as we observe or follow whatever religion we have chosen.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Pa'l nene mío...</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The pattern for this hat was envisioned and shared with you a couple of years back modeled by my friend Meg. The pattern's name is April. When I created it, I wanted something airy and light for the celebration of spring. With a 13-year-old around me, I wanted to knit something for him that he'd wear. (Yes, I have done a few pieces for him, but many are worn once only to be stashed away.) So, with his permission and input, I thought, this hat pattern would be good as it gives me some flexibility with the color and it looks like a crocheted piece. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I basically divided the body of the piece by three to accommodate the three Rasta colors and bordered the hat in black to ground it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As many good sons and daughters respond, P tells me he liked it. Sadly, like many of the other pieces I have knitted for him, this one also went by the wayside. Live and learn, eh?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nonetheless, knitting this hat and researching Rastafari has opened up my spirit, my mind, and my future to inquire more about the world that seems to be raising me - even today. ;)e-</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A tender thank you to my dear friend Miguel. Miguel and I grew up in the same town in Puerto Rico: Guaynabo. We grew up there at the same time since we are the same age. But sadly, we did not meet until many years later, here in Cincinnati in the late 2000s. I admire Miguel for the courage he exhibits every day in facing both work and life in a manner that is joyous and loving to us all. Thank you for sharing of yourself with me to model this hat, amor. ;)e-</span></div>
;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-41144847395108545342013-02-28T22:09:00.001-05:002013-02-28T22:12:56.370-05:00O (deep breath) M (deeper breath) G (and exhale)!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">O... M... G...</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">¡</span>Hola! ;) You know... I really like publishing posts on a monthly basis as it gives me the opportunity for reflection and - in a non-attached way - look at my reactions to different events throughout a period of time as well as the lessons I have learned from them. And boy... What a month this has been!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Okay, then, if I was once worried about "Roberta"...</span></strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKx8gV21u4meVm28dN9OCJGuvbf4EYW6C0ROVFsu_R2rxP1J1A-J25236g_LxnNbNIRWeNgOV6xdbhtZFV1XWd_3WQgd9HgvEaMuAWeY1mlvTxs1ow-hKcpUHWKUu78h6EqexTdSfKmKs/s1600/IMG_0715_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKx8gV21u4meVm28dN9OCJGuvbf4EYW6C0ROVFsu_R2rxP1J1A-J25236g_LxnNbNIRWeNgOV6xdbhtZFV1XWd_3WQgd9HgvEaMuAWeY1mlvTxs1ow-hKcpUHWKUu78h6EqexTdSfKmKs/s200/IMG_0715_2.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">At the beginning of the month, and as a follow up to my last post, I published the knitting pattern to "Ola", the hat my dear friend Mark modeled for me in Puerto Rico. The pattern was published in our online knitting community: Ravelry. Since the pattern had been written so long ago, the model in the pattern itself was my son, P, who in his goofy surfer way agreed to pose for a couple of pictures about four years ago. But I was so proud of the shots with which we ended up after our visit to PR, I decided to use one of Mark's shots as the "cover photo" for the pattern. OMG! What a reaction that caused in our knitting community! I am not quite clear what happened, but all of a sudden, the pattern went into the "What's Hot" list and people started talking about... the picture... and hardly the pattern, sadly. Many folks took a chance to read the blog, understand the story, and make some very supportive comments. A few others - and they were certainly the minority - decided to criticize, complain, and berate without ever getting to know me, hear the story, or learn anything about what I have been doing with my knitting and the blog over the last couple of years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I discovered - once again - that no matter how many beautiful (and many oh-so-funny) things were shared with me, the mean ones really got to me. If I was once worried about "Roberta", I was now living the problem magnified. It felt awful every time I opened my email because I didn't know what to expect. And I kept feeling bad not only because of what had the possibility to come up in email, but because I was letting the few (and they were very few) comments get to me. C'mon! Really?! Does that ever happen to anyone else other than me?! Ugh... But with every email I was about to open, I repeated my mantra, I reminded myself that I had not done anything wrong, and I tried to remember my sister's advice: "Don't let others' issues veer you away from your own journey."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My "favorite" story came from a woman who claimed I had gotten her in trouble with her school principal for showing a picture of a naked man to her son. I felt horrible. She mentioned how she was looking for a hat to make for her son and when she clicked on the pattern, there was my model, "naked". I felt horrible. I apologized. Then, she <em>demanded</em> I took the picture down. Her sudden change from victim to jailer confused me... I decided to explore the pattern in the way she described and I realized that she had had to click on the picture more than three times and scroll down before she could have seen the entire picture in front of her son. (Really, woman, you couldn't have stopped at one, two, or three clicks before scrolling if you were going to be <em>that</em> offended?) Furthermore, since MY son was the model in the pattern, I was now certain that she NEVER opened the pattern itself. That's too bad. Do you think she made it to this blog? ;)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRezVLxqNNSHaONDvqCEY-KVkGdVguWvEDnEBxinTuEUpkW7oeHoOpnlbqYP0KxG-4eeMg3oV2QSrutonySokdL8kdpVI29Dd7OZ0PwxhEGUSy121fRR8a1hzpHAYyJ3oGBuyZC7YFnt0/s1600/IMG_0792_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRezVLxqNNSHaONDvqCEY-KVkGdVguWvEDnEBxinTuEUpkW7oeHoOpnlbqYP0KxG-4eeMg3oV2QSrutonySokdL8kdpVI29Dd7OZ0PwxhEGUSy121fRR8a1hzpHAYyJ3oGBuyZC7YFnt0/s320/IMG_0792_3.jpg" width="217" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This experience prompted two sets of questions for me: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">(1) What's the problem with the<em> implication</em> of nudity? Certainly, I have yet to show any genitals in any of my pictures. So, why are some so bent out of shape from seeing nothing? Aren't we all made the same? Why are we still carrying these puritanical views from over a century ago? Gosh, I am working so hard to make my son proud of his body and what the Universe has given him... sometimes, I feel little support on that and feel highly confused by the "Robertas" of the world. Why is that?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">(2) What's with the hypocrisy (and I realize that this is such a strong word) about sexuality? If I philosophically followed the nasty comments I received about "nudity", I would be running around magazine stands and TV covering up half of the things my son sees every day. Why is that okay, but this isn't, Roberta? </span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Me? Nope, I don't need any more...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">One of the comments I received this month accused me of being needy for attention. I am not sure how that came about. I have surmised since then that the knitter who made this accusation - as some others did as well - thought I was the model, and showing up "my" naked body sent the message that I wanted people to look at me. To that very long message, I replied, simply, with my own truth. No, I don't need any more attention from any stranger as I receive enough attention from my son, my partner, and my family and friends. Back in my twenties and thirties, perhaps my life was about that. Through a lot of personal work, I have realized that there is a lot of power in getting <em>the right kind of attention</em>, but that <em>right</em> kind comes from the love of those most important to me.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Gratitude...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, as quickly as the excitement went up, it also died down. THANK GOD. I was/am certainly grateful for that, but today, I am also immensely grateful for one more thing. Through this experience in February, I felt love and support from new friends in my knitting community. To every beautiful human being who made us all laugh through comments and stories, who stood side-by-side with me or others who expressed their points of view politely and eloquently (in agreement or disagreement), and to the new friends I now have in Ravelry, Facebook, and even in this blog, I humbly say...</span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">THANK YOU!</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs24S9q0iT7OF9yvkmkMaGZ_tnufEMYqew_tJudwqu8-L_X9HVYW-Y_NYf8b7edcQwyV3S7KIh5hei5Miybq3Op_u0-q_ONvve1tlhvD4sxXj7AL78N94WINe-laOzobAXJUVB4k44qN4/s1600/IMG_0718_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs24S9q0iT7OF9yvkmkMaGZ_tnufEMYqew_tJudwqu8-L_X9HVYW-Y_NYf8b7edcQwyV3S7KIh5hei5Miybq3Op_u0-q_ONvve1tlhvD4sxXj7AL78N94WINe-laOzobAXJUVB4k44qN4/s200/IMG_0718_2.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As the month moved on, I took this gratitude and deposited into my emotional bank account. I did not count, however, on what would happen next. This gratitude grew exponentially with every experience this month. I could not resist, and at about three points in time throughout the month, this feeling would burst like a balloon. During those moments, I felt overcome with such amazing gratitude to everyone and everything, and to such a degree that it was as if my chest could not take it. As overwhelming as it felt, it has also been so very beautiful! Wow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But it was not just the positive things this month that have made me grateful, All those moments that felt "painful" while they were happening also contributed to this awesome feeling of appreciation. Those moments have shaped and reshaped me throughout the month. And for the first time, today, I appreciate every single one of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">February had the same energy and movement as the waves in the hat I presented last month. It's incredible that the metaphors of the hat played themselves throughout these 28 days with the same rhythm and frequency as in the pattern itself. I loved spending time with friends during our annual Purification Day party. It is always fun to see folks for a night of bubbly and crepe tossing hoping for good fortune in this coming year. I loved spending Valentine's Day with my two favorite men (my son and my partner) at our favorite restaurant. I loved the new professional relationships I have forged this month. And I loved the time I spent with Jon - especially during our partner yoga workshop. It was fun, loving, nurturing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On the other side of that coin, this month I also <em>felt</em> with my loved ones... my heart is with my friends struggling with the passing of loved ones - from their four-legged family members to their colleagues to their two-legged and spirited family members. My heart is still with the moms of two dear friends who are struggling with illness; may they recover so very soon. And I pray and keep in my yoga practice intentions my friends, other parents just trying to go through every day life just like I am: doing their best to tackle the challenges presented in front of them. I have some very strong friends, and still I know that we all need each other. Together, we can make it through.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Sof<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">í</span>a de las Casta<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">ñ</span>edas</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">From Ola, we go to Ol<span style="font-family: Georgia;">é with <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sof<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">í</span>a de las Casta<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">ñ</span>edas, a sassy capelet. It somehow belongs in this month's theme.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tJHDhyHFXuj2UTvnJQ4uhzy18CvYy8j-nnv2_P6K7GIdVt2sytLpxWxH8oMc1TSHx1mnWXSfNEqs4nQEVnItrJCCnOgWY2uaYqld3W6eRWwO3m1EslskukxKZgpHZjXJQVTb_GlgCXg/s1600/IMG_0786_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tJHDhyHFXuj2UTvnJQ4uhzy18CvYy8j-nnv2_P6K7GIdVt2sytLpxWxH8oMc1TSHx1mnWXSfNEqs4nQEVnItrJCCnOgWY2uaYqld3W6eRWwO3m1EslskukxKZgpHZjXJQVTb_GlgCXg/s320/IMG_0786_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Last summer, I showed my sister a picture of a very cool capelet <em>thinking</em> she'd say, "I want to knit that", but knowing in my heart that she'd say, "Why don't you knit that for me?" Mind lost; heart won. "If you buy the yarn, I'll knit it", I said. She did. I did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The construction</span> of this capelet is easy since it is knitted sideways as if it were a long scarf. It has a few increases to account for a wider back, and it has what has to be my most favorite thing to do in knitting: cables! Once the tube is long enough, it gets sewn together, stitches are picked on one side (which becomes the top) and a rib is built to finish it off like the top of a sock or a stocking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The construction took a little longer than I anticipated and the capelet made it to the brother/sister trip to NYC last fall, and to Puerto Rico and back before it made it to its owner. However, if you think that this made it seem like a chore, I have given you the wrong impression. It was a pleasure to knit since I LOVE cables! (Have I said that yet?!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The thing I like about cables is that they are "roads" intertwined while moving forward. And this month, I found a lot of those roads intertwined: </span><br />
<ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_9GzOGjQmOoXT-k2evHJjIpCcWpipmB7JEvHoBEgVYUu-RGON_W7zySxMA9RXpB7QuOYeatbnEsku61sce-R1lJBRhbj8oaeebvJXF45TA_Xd2FDjc8B0QOxzDBiI7wZDflOOBjSpOg/s1600/IMG_0728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_9GzOGjQmOoXT-k2evHJjIpCcWpipmB7JEvHoBEgVYUu-RGON_W7zySxMA9RXpB7QuOYeatbnEsku61sce-R1lJBRhbj8oaeebvJXF45TA_Xd2FDjc8B0QOxzDBiI7wZDflOOBjSpOg/s200/IMG_0728.jpg" width="133" /></a>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">in Ravelry with all the comments, the support, and the disagreements,</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">at work with all the different things going on: projects, new people, new structures, new journeys,</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">at home with the everyday struggles of managing a home, raising a son, and building loving and patient relationships,</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">in my yoga teacher training with my classmates (whom I adore),</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and in my yoga practice trying to be kind, patient, and loving to myself and the energy around me.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When it came time to find a model for this capelet, I had the perfect person in mind and I was honored that she agreed to do this for me. Things do happen for a reason, and it took a little longer than I thought not only to finish this piece, but to have the right model with the matching spirit model it for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I think this Sof<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">í</span>a de las Casta<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">ñ</span>edas belongs with the events of this month for many reasons but the most importantly to me is that my road has crossed and intertwined with so many others. I cannot express my gratitude for having you read this and hang in there with me. I am humbled by your care and support and as always look forward to your continued advice. Talk to me. ;)e-</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_Rs_CwQN5cKNYrPQSL4HtrglPPGsdyVibwMx__1KbX7WyTh-TnrVBbADJyTonFKN9FQKsabiaOGMWFKoeap5dbZcAPPNcTLmTjz9AfJnroS7LIy0HMLqTrTj1olYa9yRqno6j8TcYJA/s1600/IMG_0778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_Rs_CwQN5cKNYrPQSL4HtrglPPGsdyVibwMx__1KbX7WyTh-TnrVBbADJyTonFKN9FQKsabiaOGMWFKoeap5dbZcAPPNcTLmTjz9AfJnroS7LIy0HMLqTrTj1olYa9yRqno6j8TcYJA/s200/IMG_0778.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My heart goes out to my dear friend, Jenny A., for modeling this piece for me. Jenny has a wonderful, beautiful spirit, and goes through life with grace and energy no matter what. I hope you can see all that I see in her in her smile, her poise, and her expression.</span>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-57514759689941041642013-01-31T16:53:00.001-05:002013-01-31T16:53:30.245-05:00¡Hola, Ola!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy New Year, everyone. It has been so long since I have posted anything! Eek!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Where have you been?!</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, let me tell ya...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My last post was in April, 2011. Since then, my son graduated sixth grade from his school and transitioned to our local high school - the top in the state (of Ohio)! (Not that I'm proud or anything!) Summer of 2011 came and went with some "blah" and some changes in my work life that left me uninspired to knit a lot. I still knitted, but I struggled with continuing this arc, and worst of all, I kept hearing "Roberta" in the back of my head. Ugh!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rcw4ieILgsGFxMEy4_SMdNA4EhklsWd-FbiBI7nz1PsXndOkEbbtSFPOhBYm8UKTo_FcdOyxfW905MhPLfkUB1tYxuAC0WtxkiKETE0f5ZhDAgz_VyC1Nmc1pTovr42PrnLotclA_wk/s1600/DSC_1235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rcw4ieILgsGFxMEy4_SMdNA4EhklsWd-FbiBI7nz1PsXndOkEbbtSFPOhBYm8UKTo_FcdOyxfW905MhPLfkUB1tYxuAC0WtxkiKETE0f5ZhDAgz_VyC1Nmc1pTovr42PrnLotclA_wk/s400/DSC_1235.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">By the end of the summer, I was excited that my son was starting his middle/high school life. <em>Seventh grade was a rollercoaster for both of us.</em> It was <strong><u>REALLY</u></strong> tough. I went through this grade all over... again... and please know that the first time wasn't that great! In trying to help my son, P, I started losing myself. I felt bad for him - having to put up with me. I didn't know how to cope with all of this or help him by providing him direction without being directive... that, in general, is tricky task! I fell on the only thing I knew... being my dad during his "tough" years. I felt bad for my son who couldn't receive the better parent in me. I felt bad for my partner, Jon, who had to witness all of it. And worst of all, I felt really bad for myself. I felt bad <strong>all the time</strong>. I was angry, frustrated, lost. I wasn't ashamed of expressing this, but I was not expressing it in the best of manners with anyone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">All along I knew what I had to do to get out of that funk: find myself again. Sadly, I could not find the breath to make it happen. It felt as if I was drowning in the middle of the ocean with no footing, someone was holding their hand over my head, and I could not come up for air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>For the first time in a long time, I took a breath.</strong> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAGnQpNqq_2qdtvqyumOvuSiODR0Aid3EMQ-a_tRpX5OiaKEgEauNKv4rd7JXJ391G7Hi2doduX066FduaNARC9txc7oN6jDKeStIWKAkce8_HWjNXD2IOR-qYZY43GOEPBBGIuytnaY/s1600/DSC_1208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAGnQpNqq_2qdtvqyumOvuSiODR0Aid3EMQ-a_tRpX5OiaKEgEauNKv4rd7JXJ391G7Hi2doduX066FduaNARC9txc7oN6jDKeStIWKAkce8_HWjNXD2IOR-qYZY43GOEPBBGIuytnaY/s200/DSC_1208.JPG" width="151" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Finally, the first break: Holidays, 2011. During our annual visit to see my family, my sister (mil gracias una vez más, amor) dragged me to her yoga studio. For the first time in a long time, I took a breath. Jon and I returned home wanting to continue breathing. I needed to continue breathing so that I could figure out where I was in all of these changes and where and how I could find myself! This was a change way overdue. From our own spaces, my sister and I dubbed 2012: The Year of the Yoga... (sounds better in Spanish! LOL!) And even though I had asked Santa that previous December for 52 yoga lessons in 2012 (one practice/week), I started going to my local studio three to four times a week. As wonderful as that sounds, however, it still took time to find that deep breath and to start the journey to find myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The second semester of 7th grade kept its first semester's pounding. I was able to bring my head up to take a breath at least three to four times per week... but I was still drowning. By the end of the spring, I wanted to deepen my yoga practice even more since I was enjoying what I was learning and I was beginning to breathe. While slow, yoga was helping. So I committed to pursuing my studio's Yoga Teacher Training (YTT) program - more on this program and my experience in future posts. Suffice it to say, at this point, I am finding my track again, and I'm back into knitting, and back to this arc! (Sorry, "Roberta", we'll continue this journey!)</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Una ola in the ocean...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In Spanish, we use the word "hola" to mean "hello". It's our greeting, and if you are in Puerto Rico, the word often has a rhythm or a song to it. I love using "hola" instead of hello here in the States. It reminds me of my roots, and because I can "s(w)ing it", it reminds me of home. ¡Hola!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwJvmGelJMfGBkVDqMXtmobEUPmtHQaiMfQYa5uu5zqkiPxSBwJJDP2gVeEoePyPcmFkOaf-h5GxPZykjX8LDUtV1C1lNUJySG423E9_X13eggosGjQAH2Yq977bXhhZni4-uwtTT2HQ/s1600/DSC_1240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwJvmGelJMfGBkVDqMXtmobEUPmtHQaiMfQYa5uu5zqkiPxSBwJJDP2gVeEoePyPcmFkOaf-h5GxPZykjX8LDUtV1C1lNUJySG423E9_X13eggosGjQAH2Yq977bXhhZni4-uwtTT2HQ/s320/DSC_1240.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The hat modeled in this blog is very special to me. It was one of the first two designs I ever made. It was imagined during one of my family's movie night visit. This is when Jon, P, and I go out to the theatre (to see a movie) and make dinner out of pretzels, popcorn, hot dogs, candy, and HUGE soft drinks from the concession stand. (I often joke that we three guys were left to fend for ourselves and made dinner out of... that stuff! LOL!) That particular night, we went to see Kung Fu Panda and during the last scene when we think that the sensei is dying, on the edge of his sleeve, I found this wave motif. Immediately, I was transported to home and specifically to a beach we used to visit in Arecibo, PR: La Poza. It was the perfect beach for families. It has a little pool protected by rocks where the major waves crash and make a spectacle every time the water flies into the sky. To the right, there is what we often call "the typical beach" - long stretch of sand with water... no rocks... except here, we were forbidden to swim as kids because while beautiful, the undercurrents were dangerous - easily dragging many a healthy swimmer down without issue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Quickly after the movie, I got to work. I wanted the hat to be a reflection of the water and the earth in which we played as kids and the same earth that grounds us every day. I wanted the water to be prominent and serve as a crown. I also wanted the waves to be on the edge, pressing against it like the many times we as kids pushed our boundaries wanting to go swimming on the "forbidden" side of that beach. The hat was named "Ola" and it is pronounced in the same way as we say "hola" (since the "h" here is silent). "Ola" means wave. And I wanted those waves to come through my knitting needles and into this piece as a reminder of all the wondrous things we experienced as children back at home.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXQq9kunz0u7-Z2sJ5nF8Z6dJzefnJddrFxDyRS_fMOrfDUiCk-6V2lp2teuevb0PT0JlmsHOFRSzdu1z52srJ4nEvqv0ThS7p4xGq5uWMnnWm8YFrqACrwYIRFkOn4BJwKHfJg6ACMI/s1600/DSC_1183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXQq9kunz0u7-Z2sJ5nF8Z6dJzefnJddrFxDyRS_fMOrfDUiCk-6V2lp2teuevb0PT0JlmsHOFRSzdu1z52srJ4nEvqv0ThS7p4xGq5uWMnnWm8YFrqACrwYIRFkOn4BJwKHfJg6ACMI/s200/DSC_1183.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In a Buddhist way, the hat is simple. It's constructed using fair isle technique in the part where the waves start meeting the earth. This also serves as an exchange of yarn color and a transition from the water to the earth just like the waves crash onto the beach. And once you leave the waves, you hit the "knitting highway". I use my typical reduction method for beanies breaking the hat in segments of ten stitches each and reducing (k2tog/segment, every other row) accordingly. This allows for a swirl in the crown of the beanie so that it rounds better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">For a few years now, I had been wanting to have this hat modeled right on that same beach which inspired the piece. I had images in my head of a male model against the rocks, and with the crashing waves in the back. It took that many years for this vision to take shape, and for that, I am grateful. Good things come to those who wait and I found the perfect model and the perfect time - both physically and spiritually - to have this happen since over the time that elapsed, I have realized that the meaning of the hat has evolved and grown very much like I feel I have. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Finding myself...</span></strong></strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkZeVLgRzAOM-rmEoSA2-n3OoVJaG9cW39Y6dlSqKwQMFqTBPEhLhrC3bo5hJyI_HoJL7axSarugRlicVIrNKPFjRbo3O2hCkYBt2DvIlQ7mHYHPP-0-_XY4VKk9BZSnHItbsO5O9r4Y/s1600/DSC_1214+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkZeVLgRzAOM-rmEoSA2-n3OoVJaG9cW39Y6dlSqKwQMFqTBPEhLhrC3bo5hJyI_HoJL7axSarugRlicVIrNKPFjRbo3O2hCkYBt2DvIlQ7mHYHPP-0-_XY4VKk9BZSnHItbsO5O9r4Y/s200/DSC_1214+-+Version+2.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have often believed that life is made up of different chapters where each of us is its own protagonist. Even when these chapters are put together making the story of each of our lives, each chapter is built with its own introduction, rising action, climax, and <span class="mw-headline" id="D.C3.A9nouement.2C_resolution.2C_or_catastrophe">dénouement or resolution. These chapters are like waves in the ocean with soft (or wild) rises and falls. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="mw-headline">I feel like over this period of time, a chapter in my life has come to close and another one is opening. My son and I are embarking in a new relationship. My partner and I are looking brightly and differently at the future. None of these things is still easy and take work, but they are different. They are anew. I feel like a wave crashed on the beach or against that rock formation, and the ocean is retrieving for a new swell to take its place. I am so excited for that because each chapter is unique and can bring with it so many great lessons.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Patanjali states that the yoga practice needs to be regular in order for one to gain the most benefits from it. Even though I didn't see the benefits of my practice right away during those early months in 2011, having stuck with it, I can see the benefits of it every day now. I am seeing the same thing with so many life experiences: being partnered, being a dad, a professional, a yoga teacher, a man. This journey of finding myself is just beginning. And for that, I'm grateful. Let's say "hola" together. ;)e-</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegwQhUNA5smLMKG84upVHfr3rpIRUHP6MJfv0f1oIHemQ4UijVz7qfZbqw6c5GHAuLOfI75aHyOrHwV1YOvaS7-jhXQfS3rymoiCbZnyG3-kgaSRyy58fK3ebmeclsA-HLofj-d-c-Hg/s1600/DSC_1258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegwQhUNA5smLMKG84upVHfr3rpIRUHP6MJfv0f1oIHemQ4UijVz7qfZbqw6c5GHAuLOfI75aHyOrHwV1YOvaS7-jhXQfS3rymoiCbZnyG3-kgaSRyy58fK3ebmeclsA-HLofj-d-c-Hg/s200/DSC_1258.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A very special "muchas gracias" to our new friend Mark G. who has taken the bull by the horns by moving from Texas to Puerto Rico and is starting a new chapter or "una nueva ola" in his life. When I mentioned that I had found the perfect model at the perfect time, I wasn't kiddin'. ;)e-</span><br />
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<br />;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-82144521092334983362011-04-30T14:15:00.000-04:002011-04-30T14:15:14.866-04:00Black & White<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7nOInxz0894LjlCyzWOpxvFzPJ4mxvmyBJgGyY8OzyqsCRCL4oLAUesTAKlZQWQuLBEa9kksgyezr4rxcKqRxjzLDjJzhVP5R4Jtwl80UWAZjNT-w9XpXRC0fC1yF95nN4X4bRGViBY/s1600/IMG_0201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7nOInxz0894LjlCyzWOpxvFzPJ4mxvmyBJgGyY8OzyqsCRCL4oLAUesTAKlZQWQuLBEa9kksgyezr4rxcKqRxjzLDjJzhVP5R4Jtwl80UWAZjNT-w9XpXRC0fC1yF95nN4X4bRGViBY/s320/IMG_0201.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"> Nothing is ever black or white.</div><br />
At the beginning of my career, I learned about a customer service model which presented three points of view in any conversation: (1) the way the customer sees the situation, (2) the way you see the same situation, and (3) the way it really is. Understanding this model is important as it allows us to exercise its point: bring <i>one</i> and <i>two</i> closer together to arrive at <i>three</i>... the way it is. <br />
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Later on and after teaching this principle for years, I began to manage, and I learned that in managing people, the model still applied. This time, it was about how a manager's direct reports sees a situation (1), how the manager sees it (2), and the way it really is. Unlike the customer service scenario, however, I also learned that a manager has more data which oftentimes helps to determine whether or not an employee is meeting expectation, sure. Nonetheless, the point remains the same: bring the manager and the employee's points of view closer together to clearly outline the way it really is. And we do that by ensuring that our employees are clear on expectations and continuously receive feedback to aide their growth. (Sounds like parenting, eh?) Bringing one and two closer together gets us to execution. (And how "managerial" is that?!) <br />
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To date as a manager, I have faced a lot of... interesting... situations with my direct reports, and I have learned a lot from each of them. As I matured in my career, I started working with a manager who reminded me over and over that nothing was ever black or white, but that the answer always lied somewhere in the gray. This was not very different than the aforementioned model. But... it did bring up an interesting paradigm that needs pondering...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLTopOG04sxTeKxMMSRBpe9zC1-1WLUCIOpdqSzzKdwQuxU9grLKhBrCm1D3wGw82ACpbb2OjX6cEEVmCrSbFvQN0aHd3rffv1CT52Jf5KqgM9SypG8VyjZx7DNGrpf8YXEaS09kSugo/s1600/IMG_0172_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLTopOG04sxTeKxMMSRBpe9zC1-1WLUCIOpdqSzzKdwQuxU9grLKhBrCm1D3wGw82ACpbb2OjX6cEEVmCrSbFvQN0aHd3rffv1CT52Jf5KqgM9SypG8VyjZx7DNGrpf8YXEaS09kSugo/s200/IMG_0172_2.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
Is there anything that is truly black <em>or</em> white? Is there? Or are we to <i>always</i> seek all pertinent facts before rendering a decision? Isn't that what our legal system does/is supposed to do?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArFho5JMZglf-TiId-3przIUjoLwdF_zd7g4UqN-vVB2tGwhZau_55hy80DZQvFsj83-HHxmghAiXZt69BTiaAybiGu7nXBWIiLuWeDiZYw4eZ1755HVXcvUvu9EFBpFSiJi1btpIQuE/s1600/IMG_0133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArFho5JMZglf-TiId-3przIUjoLwdF_zd7g4UqN-vVB2tGwhZau_55hy80DZQvFsj83-HHxmghAiXZt69BTiaAybiGu7nXBWIiLuWeDiZYw4eZ1755HVXcvUvu9EFBpFSiJi1btpIQuE/s200/IMG_0133.jpg" width="133" /></a>As I have shared, I was raised with the values of the Catholic church. At the core, one can find the ten commandments. Let's start with one: Thou shall not kill. But what if one kills another in self-defense? Is the issue still black and white or do we understand it and excuse it? All of a sudden, we have gone from black to... gray? <br />
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Thou shall not steal. I have yet to hear anyone put Robin Hood down. (n.b., I am not an advocate for stealing from the rich to give to the poor. I am just wondering why we hold a different lens to this...) <br />
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And then, there are the Church's "rules" on my sexual orientation. Does God (the One with whom I grew up and follow today) love me less for living honestly and integrally? Is my sexual orientation a black and white issue?<br />
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<b>On parenting...</b><br />
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Needless to say, the concept of living in the gray is paramount to parenting - especially as these babies of ours get older and older... P is in the last six months of his 11th year. This is an important point to make in development as I learned from a teacher of his a while back. He is already a tween and I am beginning to see signs (both beautiful and tough ones) of what the teenage years will bring.<br />
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Earlier this month, we had "issues" with losing something important for school. P chose to react very "victim-like", and it probably did not help that I was not very sympathetic about it. Part of me just wanted him to look at the situation logically and make plans for what would happen if we could not find the missing piece: a memory stick with his work in it. Unlike other times when he would get stuck on his first reaction, he re-responded quickly to re-do his work. I was amazed that he could come up with this work so very quickly - for anyone who knows him, this has been uncharacteristic of most of his academic life: working fast <em><u>and</u></em> precisely. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqon7XS08K-XLYg2lj-f1KEm1J9xlHGGIt-xqYjPcwqHrvG_7HNYeI3j_lyJOTsjHBPCJzn7BHkyaW6kbSekXhyphenhyphen3Nh1mZFsv5PEDOr2B4VNgjW_AaV-FEU0MdWNYkztFNNJlN-bi0SaM4/s1600/IMG_0095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqon7XS08K-XLYg2lj-f1KEm1J9xlHGGIt-xqYjPcwqHrvG_7HNYeI3j_lyJOTsjHBPCJzn7BHkyaW6kbSekXhyphenhyphen3Nh1mZFsv5PEDOr2B4VNgjW_AaV-FEU0MdWNYkztFNNJlN-bi0SaM4/s200/IMG_0095.jpg" width="133" /></a>Hmmm... what was going on with him? P is a kid of extremes. Most kids are, I have noticed. Could he have gone from "white" to "black" overnight? Had some switch flipped? Was it the "last six months" of his 11th year?<br />
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After both of us got some rest, the next morning, I sat with him right before breakfast and told him I wanted to talk about what had happened the day before. But before I could say anything else, P exclaimed, "I know what I'm going to do about my work." And he proceeded to explain his entire plan. Few-to-no clarifying questions remained. He even explained his reactions. So, I had to pause to celebrate his thinking. At the same time, however, I wondered... what had happened to my child? I like it, but what happened?<br />
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I thought about it throughout the entire day reflecting on the idea that nothing is either black or white but most often (maybe always?) gray, somewhere in the middle where my son and I had met. Could I have encouraged him to be more forthcoming during the work he was doing the night before instead of being so "black" to his "white"? Every day, there is a lesson in parenting. And every day, I'm reminded that gray is the color of the way.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jHSVKKhynTKSzr1RjV0mT1Te2wkb-tRRQU3gHLBB3nwBZR0EE4f3zyY3HDnYhunNeO6t-nus9lKDHwojTydd1CgC_0UIrOZVqz_6q1NmkEziR-CbWr7IjuCbQHWkU33t3uFfIT9OtgA/s1600/IMG_0106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jHSVKKhynTKSzr1RjV0mT1Te2wkb-tRRQU3gHLBB3nwBZR0EE4f3zyY3HDnYhunNeO6t-nus9lKDHwojTydd1CgC_0UIrOZVqz_6q1NmkEziR-CbWr7IjuCbQHWkU33t3uFfIT9OtgA/s200/IMG_0106.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><b>On paradise...</b><br />
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Most recently, I have been bombarded with conversations and images on things that appear to deviate from the "normal". (What is "normal" anyway?) Rapidly, I have had to do checks to ensure that I am not passing judgment. Remaining unjudgemental is important to me. In these images (like the ones I present to you today), I wonder if I know the entire story. I wonder if I am putting too much of who I am and not enough of what the other point of view is saying. How can I remain un-judgemental in the process of seeing something? It is not that I was raised in that accepting of an environment; it is that as someone who has often been judged, I do not ever want to go there for others. And I have always known that as I parent, I want to raise a child who is tolerant, less judgemental than most of us, and accepting. In there, I hope he finds his paradise, and in there, I hope he finds love.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG11PEireV8-qyV2Z0Ddh5ogiBUqqrp4BHyeBAtPjUiP4q5-DwU9PcZ9cI30BC8Co9J1jIH-KZAZNE120lXOOJ5QedOjV0viEbJ1ioTbaOkrHu3amOXDnoEBgZ8xKTH1SUXpuQ9m7UxZc/s1600/IMG_0151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG11PEireV8-qyV2Z0Ddh5ogiBUqqrp4BHyeBAtPjUiP4q5-DwU9PcZ9cI30BC8Co9J1jIH-KZAZNE120lXOOJ5QedOjV0viEbJ1ioTbaOkrHu3amOXDnoEBgZ8xKTH1SUXpuQ9m7UxZc/s320/IMG_0151.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkynQb1pz2iaJFVrNFiQNSi5LDQFUg6r8XA0FU4ryD_wAW30tyNXNn93_xi4mZrbgrwlZPcLZVYgZCVz4UhNmOq7UudaQT2S4J5q4Et6_mPQknhf4pey8HcXRZ51zXdaKT23zlGEA2a0/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkynQb1pz2iaJFVrNFiQNSi5LDQFUg6r8XA0FU4ryD_wAW30tyNXNn93_xi4mZrbgrwlZPcLZVYgZCVz4UhNmOq7UudaQT2S4J5q4Et6_mPQknhf4pey8HcXRZ51zXdaKT23zlGEA2a0/s200/IMG_0117.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><b>In the beginning...</b><br />
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As we start turning the corner toward the conclusion of Adam and Eve in knitwear, this arc we started exploring a year ago, I knew that I wanted to make a piece of knitwear inspired by something less traditional. It was my friend, Todd B., who introduced me to the pondering of black v. white. And so, I wanted to push myself to see if I could see things in a different manner.<br />
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This neck cuff is inspired by the boot covers I made earlier, mixed in with the tradition of cables and the warmth of beautiful yarn, and a little S&M for seasoning. Believe it or not, the seasoning came from my last trip to a Burberry (sigh!) store in Chicago...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9E0ak-V-vTudC375nlxvbZ5QfJ1rK4yP846xy8WRRTU5togGOJ_GIIh7EZ_SkBXDtMZwfOfRrzVVC8O6Ib_cpIm3_puWkwiKcea0Eogz-o9fV4Cd6mQpjTszw7eBTXe3lj49rHC0y7Y/s1600/IMG_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9E0ak-V-vTudC375nlxvbZ5QfJ1rK4yP846xy8WRRTU5togGOJ_GIIh7EZ_SkBXDtMZwfOfRrzVVC8O6Ib_cpIm3_puWkwiKcea0Eogz-o9fV4Cd6mQpjTszw7eBTXe3lj49rHC0y7Y/s200/IMG_0135.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
It is a simple rectangle. It starts with a 2x1 ribbing which helped secure the fasteners. From there, the neck warmer is made up of five rows of cable alternating the rows where the cable twists. At first, the twists felt somewhat weird just like the ENTIRE idea behind it. However, as the knitting continued, the soft waves reveiled themselves. Again, this is true of thoughts and of my knitting this month. <br />
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I love the end look of this piece. Hopefully, in it, you see the soft, the hard, the edgy and the hmmm, what is that?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmeNFx8clwg_uCfMvcyEUYJtpn1QndskD4jmF1ROMwGCjg3CMDW_Roh3Im6_OhDp5kOhU-OJM4LcrR2ujB8YztZEBrIi8vzsRcJajGehIfaT7B7KdQNXnZ5UjFNpX5Vd91WeR6OTShpQ/s1600/IMG_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmeNFx8clwg_uCfMvcyEUYJtpn1QndskD4jmF1ROMwGCjg3CMDW_Roh3Im6_OhDp5kOhU-OJM4LcrR2ujB8YztZEBrIi8vzsRcJajGehIfaT7B7KdQNXnZ5UjFNpX5Vd91WeR6OTShpQ/s200/IMG_0041.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
PS This month, P ended up getting braces. When he was asked what color he wanted his rubber bands to be, he chose... black! Funny, isn't it? :)e-<br />
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A special thanks to my dear friend, Todd B., who has been watching and reading for this entire year. Todd is supportive and encouraging, and in all of that, my family and I feel his love. Thank you, Todd! ;)e-;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-84130049274550453712011-03-31T23:06:00.001-04:002011-03-31T23:06:56.737-04:00Good luck to you!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQLm4WL7xLVKd3pGbQwwFp46yS9Zn_u71SIefj5wqmwXIxMNUE6C2jJfbMS2G95BSzXuiBZElKfHclbza5VQXhUxnt0eDjQ7GfhoPuaTLzBZZezLZ-1G6dc2RliCJ-7qcHp4qaP9Y9lc/s1600/IMG_6245_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQLm4WL7xLVKd3pGbQwwFp46yS9Zn_u71SIefj5wqmwXIxMNUE6C2jJfbMS2G95BSzXuiBZElKfHclbza5VQXhUxnt0eDjQ7GfhoPuaTLzBZZezLZ-1G6dc2RliCJ-7qcHp4qaP9Y9lc/s320/IMG_6245_2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
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Luck is a funny thing. Dictionary.com defines "luck" as <span id="hotword"><em><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">force</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">that</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">seems</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">operate</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">for</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">good</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">ill</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">person's</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">life,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">as</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">shaping</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">circumstances,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">events,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'">or</span> </em><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><em>opportunities</em>. We often wish "good luck" to people in many of their endeavors - unless you are in the theatre where wishing someone "good luck" is actually "bad luck".</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHb53huDiSzRW_v5zSbabxUA6gQ2jwlLyMB0r8kJ5BbdxQ6eoF9Py9FNZA6wur50ctZln3j2CTHaDFsU_axIX9f_S91qkfgAMDA1D9mwYxdDHyc5QmzMztVEYcgIyumG9u9vClUN2M50/s1600/IMG_6255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHb53huDiSzRW_v5zSbabxUA6gQ2jwlLyMB0r8kJ5BbdxQ6eoF9Py9FNZA6wur50ctZln3j2CTHaDFsU_axIX9f_S91qkfgAMDA1D9mwYxdDHyc5QmzMztVEYcgIyumG9u9vClUN2M50/s200/IMG_6255.jpg" width="133" /></a><span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">Some months ago, I was engaged in a conversation with P's violin teacher, Miss Marion (¡hola!) when she shared her views about "talent" and whether a child has talent or not. As a teacher - and this is one of the many reasons I love her to death, she believes that with hard work everyone has talent. In other words, it is not really about having something magical, but really about how hard you work to get something done. Since then, I have thought a lot about that paradigm quite a bit, and this month, as the "luck of the Irish" came around, I pondered on whether the same is true for "luck".</span><br />
<br />
<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">Coming from my Hispanic, Catholic background, I heard a lot of "that was God" whenever something good or bad happened. Was that mami's view and expression on "luck"? Early in my relationship with my first partner and P's daddy, I must have channeled my mami as I said in an auto-pilot moment, "that was God" to something "bad but funny" that had just happened to him. His response which to this day I still think of as priceless was, "My God is not a punishing God. My God is a loving God." Hmmmm, good point, mine is too. From then on, the phrase changed a little: "it's karma". </span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">Can we really account for all the good and bad things that happen in our lives to pure luck? I do feel lucky that I have a support system in family and friends that nurture me, make me feel loved, and have my back daily. Is it because of luck? I suppose that I didn't choose my family, so one could consider this to be luck. But as I look at my relationships with my siblings, my mom, cousins, aunts, and uncles, we have all had our ups and downs. (In some cases, we still have some downs.) And still, I treasure all of them. In every case, there is an enormous amount of work that has been put forth (or perhaps that will be needed in the future) to keep those relationships alive and well. </span><span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">And as I look at my "chosen" family, my friends, I also look at a lot of work in nurturing and keeping those relationships healthy. I could think of it as luck... but to me, it's daily work.</span><br />
<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQboqvwj1yaLYQ_yMhU7zd-qpOPtpCN7uZbgJERBfSLNJjWLDnKyX4KJ_ary1bWdSCFEChyUcz2sOlOTxdiKf4pLoQFiiiNBdvGHEOxs2V_Cfhk3agFMF9AvmSK2nAXOV5vtggWTB8RNo/s1600/IMG_6251_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQboqvwj1yaLYQ_yMhU7zd-qpOPtpCN7uZbgJERBfSLNJjWLDnKyX4KJ_ary1bWdSCFEChyUcz2sOlOTxdiKf4pLoQFiiiNBdvGHEOxs2V_Cfhk3agFMF9AvmSK2nAXOV5vtggWTB8RNo/s320/IMG_6251_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><b>On parenting...</b></span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">My son works so hard at so many things. Yes, he is still a kid and from time to time, he wanders, or slacks a tad. Without guidance, his bed would probably go unmade and his room undone for his entire life. Nonetheless, it is fun and very interesting as his papa to see him "at work" whether it be homework, violin, a sport, or simply at the dinner table as his wheels turn right before a question or right before the answer to an interesting question. It is even more fulfilling to see him reap the fruits of his hard work after a recital or when he gets a paper back. It is also as rewarding to discuss the lessons learned from mishaps or failures and ponder how to change the work around that to change the outcome.</span><br />
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I share this because I am not sure how I feel about teaching him the lesson on "luck". Will his hard work be for nothing if he doesn't have luck on his side? Should he slack in the hopes of having luck be kind to him?<br />
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Funnily, he uses the phrase "you are so lucky" often, and more and more I have noticed myself explaining the rationale behind what happened as hard work.<br />
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Am I killing the magic of luck? What am I missing?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpyg_ophRiX7wkNv4y0zqNBeYD7Pdc9g7iSQVi3hpC0Xa3tiJorysPKaQD8ixqUe4dRYykaixdi-E3UrvhZM-9-3XN-irXv40xZMxV7vSOaeTgMEH5krRKhVIXry9MF29QNciJ0bJOGME/s1600/IMG_6268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpyg_ophRiX7wkNv4y0zqNBeYD7Pdc9g7iSQVi3hpC0Xa3tiJorysPKaQD8ixqUe4dRYykaixdi-E3UrvhZM-9-3XN-irXv40xZMxV7vSOaeTgMEH5krRKhVIXry9MF29QNciJ0bJOGME/s200/IMG_6268.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
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I wonder...<br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><strong><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><strong><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><strong><br />
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<b><br />
</b><br />
<strong>On Adam...</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DeudZ6cSUJazBw0Wwu8NgNM04cFHsCo9CwOMsw7fzSp6Wfvk0ejMdpUH5CyE3N9Z2iNyiNJEfSxMfqPUH2vPXfyYMFVAJTenho_mqiG4_PF_oUrjbirOkpiLT8-zpmy-gwueVtolIiM/s1600/IMG_6277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DeudZ6cSUJazBw0Wwu8NgNM04cFHsCo9CwOMsw7fzSp6Wfvk0ejMdpUH5CyE3N9Z2iNyiNJEfSxMfqPUH2vPXfyYMFVAJTenho_mqiG4_PF_oUrjbirOkpiLT8-zpmy-gwueVtolIiM/s200/IMG_6277.jpg" width="168" /></a><span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">For the longest time, my son has been asking for a pair of fingerless gloves. After my recent bout of singleitis - resolved by my (now Don D's) Pinky Swear mittens, I have attempted to find a good pattern for these. For those knitters out there reading, I attemped the Knucks a couple of times, and somehow, I was a bit unhappy about how they kept turning out. So, I kept researching.</span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">After some time, I sillily realized that I had all the skills to do my own pattern. What luck! Not really... I had just researched enough to land back in Pinky Swear land... </span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">These gloves start at the cuff, and I like a long cuff to bridge the gap between my shirt/jacket cuffs and my hands. These are 2.5" long in a 2X2 rib. Like with Pinky Swear, I detailed the outside edge of each glove with a simple four-stitch cable which runs through and ends with the pinky finger.</span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">I kept the body of the glove snug as to avoid the bulk. After passing the thumb and reaching the end of the palm, I increased the width slightly to provide enough stitches for the fingers.</span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">I love how these turned out and I love how the look and feel. The yarn... I chose a heathered green reminiscent of the Midwest green grass about to sprout, but also as a nod to the green clovers, and the green hills of the Irish countryside, and an acknowledgement that on March 17th, we are all Irish, and by default, we are all... lucky. ;)e-</span><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"><br />
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<span name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">Enough kind words cannot be said about my good friend, Eric S. He is a trooper and I thank him from the bottom of my heart for his generosity. I feel fortunate to have him (and Bucky) in my life. :)e-</span>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-52768992084081892832011-02-28T21:17:00.000-05:002011-02-28T21:17:48.754-05:00Love & Roses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ__WRsmXysKdeQh3kJEVEf2GzxHKPqgMEwZnJ-9n8V2cIfMOZ6Oshs8VTQKU4-o7u3dDJWvUyJ4Ei3JnvbterR3TpVd8sGG6Qw4g8smJXohOv797NWNXsr_MJ4gxxQ7YQ-qvQ4HdhX2w/s1600/IMG_5856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ__WRsmXysKdeQh3kJEVEf2GzxHKPqgMEwZnJ-9n8V2cIfMOZ6Oshs8VTQKU4-o7u3dDJWvUyJ4Ei3JnvbterR3TpVd8sGG6Qw4g8smJXohOv797NWNXsr_MJ4gxxQ7YQ-qvQ4HdhX2w/s200/IMG_5856.jpg" width="164" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: right;">Ahhhh, February.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In February, we get to participate in two special celebrations: Valentine's Day, and Black History Month. And this year, I found special meaning in both of these. I saw the beauty of both of these celebrations and the intertwined nature of them, and I realized that February was the perfect month for celebrating Black History when, for many years, we have been celebrating... Cupid.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>On parenting...</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This month has been a rollercoaster. The beginning of the month started with my son's SCPP test in order to determine if he would be accepted and able to attend Walnut Hills High School - a Special College Preparatory Program. The day of the test - a beautiful Saturday morning, he had a good breakfast, and we left with plenty of time. He found a good friend of his in the awaiting crowd, and he went off to take the test. As I waited for him at the end of the test, I thought something was off as he was much later than originally anticipated. He walked out feeling defeated and tired - as he often does on many things. That day was hectic and we had no time to process those feelings as we needed to head to his next event: a gala at the Art Museum where he was playing violin. I felt horrible. All I could do was refocus him and invite him to think about his still upcoming audition for the School for Creative and Performing Arts (SCPA). I wanted to finish the paperwork and set his audition for the SCPA. After all, if P did not pass that SCPP test, we would have to see what his prospects would be for the SCPA. (I could only start thinking what this would be like in four more years when we started talking about colleges... OMG!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FgRMSj2w5CIwIz9f3g7P5W8wWmx5ujGrZEb_nOH3smYEZdSRAjLWEPjYnSQjwqmIup3QuB97q3w9heOV2lLm4Jd6BiMnLW7m7uLv2UYFHeLtODCcYBWr-KCw28B9e6lDrwIbL9VTozA/s1600/IMG_5931_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FgRMSj2w5CIwIz9f3g7P5W8wWmx5ujGrZEb_nOH3smYEZdSRAjLWEPjYnSQjwqmIup3QuB97q3w9heOV2lLm4Jd6BiMnLW7m7uLv2UYFHeLtODCcYBWr-KCw28B9e6lDrwIbL9VTozA/s200/IMG_5931_2.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That Monday, the application went out and by Tuesday, I was being informed that the <em>final </em>audition for the SCPA <em>this year</em> was that next Saturday. Oy! The audition which lasted 3.5 hours (!) went beautifully well even through the perceived lack of organization. P was excited, and I thought - based on comments shared by the audition staff - that we had a good prospect for him ahead. And so... the waiting game began as in both cases, the SCPP and the SCPA, we were told that we would not hear a peep until... mid-March. Oy, again.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>On Black History Month...</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As the waiting game unfolded, I continued coaching my son through his school papers. Through his research and his writing, I learned about Gandhi and his "influence on our Civil Rights Movement", about the children's march in the South during the Civil Rights Movement and the "KID POWER worth celebrating", and Bessie Coleman and how she broke barriers "as an African American female pilot". I loved watching P learn about civil rights and what these stories were teaching him. It was heart-warming to see his eyes opening to the progress we have made, but also - and sadly - to the insanity that our history contains. "Really?!" is a question he often asked. We have been through so much ignorance and discrimination. Much of it is still around us, perhaps better-disguised. It seems that at the core of the hatred our history houses, there was so much ignorance which led to so much pain! The discrimination, the chaos, the pushing, the shoving.... the pushing... and the shoving... Really?!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>On Valentine's Day...</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It came... and it went... quietly...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-K-gL-tetDB04W1erM08bjOjoPLC5B6sqdRxPaJFRt0IEtVonRDJ8BwZSr9IM7-wUvHfNaPh0zeff5rM_R-V59xtuDj1s8tI4s55nBteAE8Uq0iHIyOKQQtAfjZrhYM2zytaQg_ENWw/s1600/IMG_5870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-K-gL-tetDB04W1erM08bjOjoPLC5B6sqdRxPaJFRt0IEtVonRDJ8BwZSr9IM7-wUvHfNaPh0zeff5rM_R-V59xtuDj1s8tI4s55nBteAE8Uq0iHIyOKQQtAfjZrhYM2zytaQg_ENWw/s200/IMG_5870.jpg" width="150" /></a>But throughout the week, I had the opportunity to think about love and what it means in my life. I am a pretty lucky fellow. I have the love a wonderful partner who is patient and caring. I have the love of my family: my siblings, mami, my cousins, aunts and uncles all of whom raised me and some with whom I have recently reconnected. I have the love of my friends who are supportive and encouraging. I don't know what I would do without them. And I have the love of my son who at eleven years of age has already become a thoughtful, fun (and funny), intelligent (both in street- and book-smarts), young man. I never knew you could feel so much for someone in your life as I feel for my son. And when I try to show him... often, I am <em>always</em> reminded that I am suffocating him from hugging him too tightly <strong>and</strong> too closely. Whoops. The fun thing is that I am now beginning to feel the tight hugs back from him. Yipee! </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>On parenting... again...</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, as the month moved on, my son and I were still waiting to hear from one of the schools. I had asked P to think through the different scenarios and to start preparing an opinion on what he wanted to do depending on what happened. My son was not too thrilled of thinking about what he would need to do if he was not accepted at Walnut, but he agreed to go through the exercise with me. (Even though my parents never taught me to do this, I find myself finding opportunities to teach my son about projecting and thinking through what options and paths are ahead.) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">By this point in our story, it was now February 22nd. That day, we worked so hard at catching up with work and with homelife after our very short but very fun ski trip to Salt Lake City. We were exhausted. By evening, while dinner was being prepared, I realized that no one had checked the mail, so I ran out to get it. The top piece of mail was from CPS (Cincinnati Public Schools). My heart went to my throat. This can't be THE letter! It has only been 17 days - including weekends and holidays - since the test. How could this be <strong>that</strong> letter?! I opened the letter nervously. I could not focus on ANYTHING in that letter; I could not read it at all! But after a second or two, I found the following words, "I am pleased..." Immediately and excitedly, I ran to the kitchen to read the letter. The look on my son's face was PRECIOUS! (I think he had a moment like mine when I opened the letter, because I ended up explaining what I had read a couple of times. We were all so excited! We had a little family party to celebrate! P had passed his test and - interestingly - he now had the option he desired (a.k.a., the opinion). Yeah! Congratulations, P.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">(As a funny side note and as any parent could relate to... my feeling of jubilation was quickly curtailed when, as I reviewed the information, I learned very quickly that I had two days (!) to prepare the tome of paperwork needed to register P at Walnut. At that point, I had less than 48 hours from that night we celebrated, otherwise, I would have had to wait a month and a half! February was just crazy!)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>And in the beginning...</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsBlx3syTqGWZ5GjR6LRiSmehLKbHgmlzSSUspA8XZ0-Oa3ipwQMBTTGgfzrR4li7eC7Mb5MN8D6THS0c0UIoM3ILyq0915LLpfbvoUIHZHSj-ow9qSV8-vRYJAvutGwp56eIuJ7eAIQ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsBlx3syTqGWZ5GjR6LRiSmehLKbHgmlzSSUspA8XZ0-Oa3ipwQMBTTGgfzrR4li7eC7Mb5MN8D6THS0c0UIoM3ILyq0915LLpfbvoUIHZHSj-ow9qSV8-vRYJAvutGwp56eIuJ7eAIQ/s200/photo.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>The piece I am sharing with you today is a cozy neck warmer. It is knitted in one piece. On one end, there is a knot resembling a rose, and on the other, two leaves, slightly separated so that the rose can sneak through. The middle is a simple, luscious cable.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I find the piece significant for this month's post not because of my (stomach) knots throughout the entire month which turned out to be no more than a rose, but because of the lessons learned this month. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In February, we get to participate in two beautiful celebrations: Valentine's and Black History Month. After learning about so many different influences and important people and events of our Civil Rights Movement, I now see Valentine's and Black History Month like this neck warmer: intertwined in life like the cable that joins the rose with its leaves. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As a gay, Hispanic father living in a committed relationship, I often feel discrimination. And I know in my mind that it is based on ignorance. So, I usually combat <em>it</em> with education. However, as a human being, I am also a feeling person, and the hurt discrimination provides is big. <em>If ignorance is fought with education, I want to fight the hurt with love.</em> "Love and Roses" is dedicated to the fight we face when discrimination is the protagonist, to the great work and wonderful people who have paved ways for many of us regardless of who we are or from where we come, and it is dedicated to the discrimination we face still ahead. This is my hopeful reminder that I combat with... love. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: right;">Happy Valentine's Day and may you have had a chance to learn something new about Black History this year. ;)e-</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtOFluCtJxnvPHzVCJHz_pjwk2hQSbEwblRHKUE985B-xziS4S9-V6faLMiohizbpUp9rHz9lrwhkCA5Kb577PyIvEQI7l41s-JXbegl9R_60BrffWIepIQzQGi5zJvSukVg0TniyI8A/s1600/IMG_5910_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtOFluCtJxnvPHzVCJHz_pjwk2hQSbEwblRHKUE985B-xziS4S9-V6faLMiohizbpUp9rHz9lrwhkCA5Kb577PyIvEQI7l41s-JXbegl9R_60BrffWIepIQzQGi5zJvSukVg0TniyI8A/s200/IMG_5910_2.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A special thank you to my friend Cate C. who took a leap of faith and a step forward by modeling this piece. Her beauty is classic as is her style. Thank you, Cate. :)e-</div>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-85619865046891485612011-01-31T22:24:00.000-05:002011-01-31T22:24:17.200-05:00Happy New Year: A time for renewal...<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0OlVWh-stpLkV5MQNfEnI0tiT95R6ye2qI66VCFkZo2Ej5TjEXZsnrvBgc-6kvIAI3UmN1pU19t8kE_QVYOT-umCgFvvd1W0t7mDLojsaaJHeeVWq7ZtqTgDrGnHd22nzHkzPJ_HTI4/s1600/IMG_4801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0OlVWh-stpLkV5MQNfEnI0tiT95R6ye2qI66VCFkZo2Ej5TjEXZsnrvBgc-6kvIAI3UmN1pU19t8kE_QVYOT-umCgFvvd1W0t7mDLojsaaJHeeVWq7ZtqTgDrGnHd22nzHkzPJ_HTI4/s200/IMG_4801.jpg" width="132" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Early in our relationship, a friend called me a "Renaissance Man". </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our conversation that day had progressed into things that interested me and that I truly enjoyed doing. The list moved from home improvements - carpentry, tiling, painting, plumbing, and electrical work - to dance, yoga, skiing, golfing, karate, music, writing, interior design, cooking, quilting, and yes, knitting. After the casual mention of these things, my friend exclaimed, "Eric, you are a Renaissance Man!" The compliment was beautiful, and I accepted this compliment as it came. I think I blushed a little, too... Well... as much as I can blush. ;) But as lovely as that compliment was, at that time, I wasn't sure if I truly saw myself as a Renaissance Man. Yes, I do dabble in a lot of things, and I am happy with how most of them turn out, but does the sheer number of things one does make him/her a Renaissance person? Perhaps that is not what my friend meant... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Renaissance period was a time of rebirth and renewal. It was during this period that many of the things we know and believe in today (i.e., philosophies) came to being. Is that what she meant? There is something very beautiful about renewal and rebirth. (Hmmmm, I do get teary-eyed when there is a baptism during Mass...) Renewal is our time to begin anew and move forward. I love the spirit of finding new things and being able to simply do them. Maybe that is where I get all excited when projects arise. The fulfillment I get from these interests is certainly not in the sheer quantity of them or in their variety, but in the process and their outcome. Each opportunity to try something new is an opportunity to reinvent myself by adding a new experience to my repertoire, no? The beginning of every project is an opportunity for something new to take shape, to start something fresh, anew.</span><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On living...</span></strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdHT_IP_wLUSNRDKtIZrx5ttKwZ4KPnIOM8qq4YLzR6Yz9F_NgGbQDD-WjznuvXuCJBgYCVGTJlMr2GaCLPTrolrJT4PzLO55uO-yyYccvGIElz144-d1jdE1xLwrjq3baP39ya9boMQ/s1600/IMG_4808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdHT_IP_wLUSNRDKtIZrx5ttKwZ4KPnIOM8qq4YLzR6Yz9F_NgGbQDD-WjznuvXuCJBgYCVGTJlMr2GaCLPTrolrJT4PzLO55uO-yyYccvGIElz144-d1jdE1xLwrjq3baP39ya9boMQ/s200/IMG_4808.jpg" width="133" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I had the joy of spending the Holidays with my family in Puerto Rico. I loved every moment we spent together as a family and with friends, both old and new. During this trip, my sister (hola, mi amor) treated me to attend yoga sessions at the studio where she practices. I was a little shy at first - new studio, new teacher. (I think the older I am getting, the more comfortable I am with habits... Ugh! Not good!) But as the first session (of three I got to attend) started and got moving, my spirit started moving with it. The breathing exercises at the beginning of each session became a reminder of the movement - body and spirit - to which I was committing. And the final medidations allowed me to feel renewed. It was in one of these final meditations that the concept of renewal became more than a passing thought through the chanting and the breathing... Our instructor spoke of the spirit. He also spoke about sweat and the role it plays in the renewal of the body. Little by little, I found my body going back, finding its energy, and renewing itself. The beginning of every yoga practice (or every run, every workout, or every cast-on for that matter) marks the beginning of my personal renewal.</span><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On parenting...</span></strong><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Every August, I am thrilled to see my son go back to school. While many of us parents look forward to the routine that seems to settle things down from hectic summer camps, vacations, and sometimes the occasional "nothing-to-do" syndrome, the beginning of the school year also brings with it the opportunity to start over once again. The beginning of each of my school years from elementary school through my graduate program allowed me the opportunity to start anew. I keep reminding P that August is a time to consider the things that went well in the previous year and repeat those, and try to change those that we didn't like as much or we could do better. Renewal. And this is the same conversation we have had the last couple of 12/31/XX. As we close one calendar year, we have the opportunity to look back, ponder, and wildly look ahead and start fresh. "P, this is our chance to look back at the last year and repeat those things that went well, and also learn the lessons of those things that did not go as well, so we can help them get better this new year." The beginning of every school year and the beginning of every calendar year provide us with the opportunity to begin anew.</span><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the beginning...</span></strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18979butELBuPq3Tfvl9Ji6-bHRU5BJajCdOvbzyAWlk1L9-laAk_HsvWCTJSvVPyQbXTBbC688EuX7ijVzpd1BRJT9_fXYYQpXbw3QFsQU4sho8PRrb9ygN7-VUvYS81S5O6zAAX3LI/s1600/IMG_4812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18979butELBuPq3Tfvl9Ji6-bHRU5BJajCdOvbzyAWlk1L9-laAk_HsvWCTJSvVPyQbXTBbC688EuX7ijVzpd1BRJT9_fXYYQpXbw3QFsQU4sho8PRrb9ygN7-VUvYS81S5O6zAAX3LI/s200/IMG_4812.jpg" width="109" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A few posts back when I shared the concept of ripping stitches to begin again, taking things back and starting fresh, I never thought I would find myself looking at this slouch.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The hat was knitted with a simple concept in mind: play with knits and purls to create a subtle pattern. Well, can you see the pattern?! Oh, don't squint too much, you can't even see it in real life. It was an experiment. In some folks' eyes, it probably went awry. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At first, I thought I needed to rip it and repurpose the yarn. Unfortunately, I grabbed needles, yarn, and a sketch of the pattern to be purled in the stockinette background so quickly that I had no time for ripping and starting fresh. I had finished the hat before I knew it. In the end, the beanie turned out to be a slouch, and the pattern - a very trendy skull and crossbones - can't even be seen! But...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This slouch is significant for many reasons:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">1. It re-taught me the importance of gauge: a lesson that can't be repeated often enough.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">2. It taught me that sampling/making a swatch to try your pattern can be useful.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">3. It reminded me that perfection is subjective. Both my son and my partner loved the try and the concept of this slouch. And my son, the forever cool kid, kept it. So there has to be some merit to the design, eh?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">4. Most importantly, I found in this little mishap an opportunity to renew my love for knitting, my spirit, and my energy. I tried it, and I moved on.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvA7QIzCc5Xb6g-7vOrTLKlknHpaw18JJPkrmQlpb_MgRL7brA8zydld5q9mIJx9vSFF6-qDDq9g_cRkgHb2edux6N0W5LREUGfrUkbyY3imT0C_trYodwh3ZJIuwspjkJCBaxCjXfmsI/s1600/IMG_4778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvA7QIzCc5Xb6g-7vOrTLKlknHpaw18JJPkrmQlpb_MgRL7brA8zydld5q9mIJx9vSFF6-qDDq9g_cRkgHb2edux6N0W5LREUGfrUkbyY3imT0C_trYodwh3ZJIuwspjkJCBaxCjXfmsI/s200/IMG_4778.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The beginning of this project was filled with excitement, and after all the lessons I had... The beginning of my next project became the start of a new journey with more excitement along the way. Every cast-on is a door to a new space, an opportunity to renew.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If I am not yet one, I want to truly become a Renaissance man. </span><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One short and final thought...</span></strong><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You know, every day is work - no, not the kind that pays the bills, or the kind that keeps your household running. Every day is work for every one of us. It's not that life is hard; it's just that we all have to work hard to move through the day. Yogis say that daily practice maintains the body, soul, and spirit renewed. I wonder if in our daily work, we all take moments to renew our spirits - whether it's yoga, meditation, prayer, rest (like a nap!), spending time with loved ones, or simply "staring into space" to calm our minds, bodies, and spirits. What do </span><strong><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">you</span></em></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> do to renew?</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNYAWvGi4cbZCm-vaQt0GmqyWupw-0ydKIpRhM8jDhFHQgzrHrGsJ9i7FxCCaF3d8Y8IdhWk-utPfAgXjTJauAuNedR4sxcYkPASMeEK2ZE5h1NDSMpBh8ZfWMtgSD_qxR9FaH_fFIrd8/s1600/IMG_4788_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the meantime, while we ponder together and as we continue to practice and find ways to renew ourselves and share, January 2011 marks the beginning of a new year - an opportunity to reflect on the past, and <em><strong>look wildly </strong></em>toward the future. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy New Year!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A special thanks to my friend Steve B. who through his daily practice of living, loving, and taking care of himself lives a new year every day. :)e-</span></div>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-80009210597992726022010-12-17T21:39:00.000-05:002010-12-17T21:39:39.566-05:00Happy Holidays!!!<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlx0R1tY4d8Lqud7v0DIinFwJoIlYIYsHnbpmyWN5thHe9yfx8nLQLgG1HOE8p4VOnbuiZpsN-aASV2eqt8YT4kkD97Jh-FJcVfZwTqgDNxpR2SThvts9azOSfxjv5ALT5P0OelNHOpc/s1600/IMG_2935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlx0R1tY4d8Lqud7v0DIinFwJoIlYIYsHnbpmyWN5thHe9yfx8nLQLgG1HOE8p4VOnbuiZpsN-aASV2eqt8YT4kkD97Jh-FJcVfZwTqgDNxpR2SThvts9azOSfxjv5ALT5P0OelNHOpc/s320/IMG_2935.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
I love the Holiday Season regardless of what we are celebrating.</div></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">On my way home from a business trip recently, I was sitting by the airplane window, and as we were landing, I chose to stop my usual traveling activity, knitting, to look outside at the lights of Northern Kentucky where the Greater Cincinnati International Airport (CVG) is located. As I looked down, I noticed that the lights were twinkling. "Were they really twinkling or was I suffering from a headache/migraine?!" Upon further inspection, I noticed they were really twinkling! "Awww, it's like a Christmas tree!" I thought. And right away, my mind moved quickly to my "to do" list before the Holidays... The cards! OMG, I have had the cards for over a month, and they are not ready! Decorations! We are in a new house and I have to come up with a new schematic and design if I am to have the 12 Christmas trees I want before we leave! Food! Are we going to have a Holiday dinner before going home? Presents! OMG, we need to come up with our "Dear Santa" lists and we have to start shopping and shipping! What are we going to do to "give back" to our community this Holiday? The parties, the RSVPs, the luminaria walks... OMG. OMG. OMG.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">WAIT!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASeFq8pZ6aL1VymxNahqvOw71QHLGrfcVHlSLNbBDxHbIP3Bog9Q0hHDwiBARMjBnowvoCdHo4CUODt56RTa6PMNIK8HC_sOdXlToBuasrVrlH5K0geXonmDD6C8QpH1wvlyq02n0M1M/s1600/IMG_4825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 203px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 134px;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASeFq8pZ6aL1VymxNahqvOw71QHLGrfcVHlSLNbBDxHbIP3Bog9Q0hHDwiBARMjBnowvoCdHo4CUODt56RTa6PMNIK8HC_sOdXlToBuasrVrlH5K0geXonmDD6C8QpH1wvlyq02n0M1M/s200/IMG_4825.jpg" width="132" /></a>Why was I in a panic? "It is only NOVEMBER!" I quickly realized that I had time! More importantly, however, was the realization - if I have learned anything this year - that I have to enjoy all of my available moments with my son, my partner, my family, and friends without getting overwhelmed by the "to do" lists with which most of us tend to end up. Those moments with my loved ones are so fleating and so precious! I already spent too much time in my 20's and my 30's focusing on the wrong things to spend my 40's doing more of the same. Ok, I needed to refocus, breathe, and relax. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Breathe in. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Breathe out. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Breathe in... and... look at the lights... </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Once I relaxed, I saw the twinkling lights through a completely different lens, and I started thinking about the Holidays and their beauty. Breathe out... The first "clean" thought that came to mind after my moment of panic was how interesting it was that all the Holiday celebrations that kept coming up for me involved and/or celebrate the beauty of light. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">At the end of October, I had the pleasure of visiting with work colleagues in Bangalore, India, where they were getting ready to celebrate Diwali - the Hindu festival of lights - which started this year on November 5th. I was treated to the explanation of the festival, the excitement of getting ready and receiving family, and yes, even the commercials of all of the special deals <em>this Diwali</em>. Through this new experience, I was beautifully prepped and pumped for the many Holiday celebrations in which we partake here in the States: Christmas, Hannukah, Winter Solstice, Kwanza, Epiphany, among others. In just a few minutes, I was amazed to think of the role that light plays in all of them. From stars to manoras, from tree and house lights to luminarias. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Every Holiday season, our local zoo puts on the Festival of Lights. I love the zoo, and during the Holidays, it takes an even more magical quality. It dresses up, it inspires, and it rejoices the spirit. It, too, celebrates with light. It is so much fun to visit and see the kids and the adults behaving like kids all in awe at the beauty of the lights. What does light represent for us? So, I pondered...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In light, we seem to see hope, life, newness, expectation, ourselves, each other.<br />
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</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">While sharing lessons learned about parenting, someone special shared once that our kids are balls of light or energy that we - adults - through rules and regulations (musts and must-nots) start shaping until they become the adults we envision. In that child-rearing effort, we seem to slowly-but-surely diminish the light we are given at birth. Hmmmmm... It is no surprise, then, that we as adults always strive to behave more "child-like". It is as if we want that light back. Logically, it makes sense. Emotionally, if you are like me, it breaks your heart. But if "awareness" is Step #1 of any 12-step program, "believe" is Step #2, and I do believe that we can respark our imaginations, our spirit, our emotions, and our lives by learning from our kids whether they are biological, adopted, by relation (nephews, and grandchildren, for example), or by friendship.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In light, we seem to see hope, life, newness, expectation, ourselves, each other.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnIboWc6Hd__N4_O5gGHaJh4v7hzHbWida5mlSBgveQcfiZkqOBKQUneisZqMySXViRm83Lv5-pP42GzSFxrI33TxJRLt2NX5tw7BE8OTPrUnMxvKXvzY3InZ_p97_bIUceb-kk_HtXo/s1600/IMG_4827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnIboWc6Hd__N4_O5gGHaJh4v7hzHbWida5mlSBgveQcfiZkqOBKQUneisZqMySXViRm83Lv5-pP42GzSFxrI33TxJRLt2NX5tw7BE8OTPrUnMxvKXvzY3InZ_p97_bIUceb-kk_HtXo/s200/IMG_4827.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<strong>On looking...</strong></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdhkezl7WA2Mv71IExHPi4T8PE0odib92lOJbC4XG1bYfyct_kecVLP8MeaFc6SrYvfdyZjMFOjAoPWKUaNWwYogSRD4MW56spaKcF3bfcqd-KKtDLT2pWyBZRPWGWhfaUPiz2DbM0uM/s1600/IMG_2942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdhkezl7WA2Mv71IExHPi4T8PE0odib92lOJbC4XG1bYfyct_kecVLP8MeaFc6SrYvfdyZjMFOjAoPWKUaNWwYogSRD4MW56spaKcF3bfcqd-KKtDLT2pWyBZRPWGWhfaUPiz2DbM0uM/s200/IMG_2942.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As I talk to friends and family, I have been wondering how many of us are going to try - as we often wish - to make this Holiday Season special. Can we step away from the chaos of decorating, cooking, shopping, and stressing over the Christmas tree lights to find our own light? Could we look hard enough this Season to see if the spark is still within us, or better yet, if we can see it within our child, our partner/spouse, or our friend's eyes. How could we spend this time renewing our spirit to find our inner light?</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, I'm not one to start quoting songs, but something funny happened with Katy Perry's song, <em>Fireworks</em>. When I first heard it, I didn't like the song. I felt like she screamed the whole chorus. Then, I saw the video and gave the song a "second look". (I often find that video images force me to listen better.) And in the song, Katy Perry says,</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9QsQLqUQndYbJAevm9td5fL4zQhPoc3NJg-Zcl1AbOBK5i5-AaEWeGeyb_3kclFexnD8ez-ObTyjXSITVLYqFwdB_OtGJMKK2gOy96z0NusfFxEWylY6KcjCcI5d9f9TxwdpSabS4rE/s1600/IMG_2937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9QsQLqUQndYbJAevm9td5fL4zQhPoc3NJg-Zcl1AbOBK5i5-AaEWeGeyb_3kclFexnD8ez-ObTyjXSITVLYqFwdB_OtGJMKK2gOy96z0NusfFxEWylY6KcjCcI5d9f9TxwdpSabS4rE/s200/IMG_2937.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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"...Cause there’s a spark in you<br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">You just gotta ignite the light</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And let it shine</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Just own the night</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Like the Fourth of July</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Cause baby you’re a firework..."</div></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I want to feel the firework inside of me this Holiday Season. I want to find my light this Holiday Season. I want to do that with my family and friends. And in that light, I want to renew my commitment to being a better father, a better son, a better brother, a better nephew, a better uncle, a better cousin, a better partner, and a better person.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>In the beginning...</strong></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16rfcGBgsoe5B3sn4rDr4ZxTmlykNFxH2d5HfLLv41SjccdWCIDzAGE4ovfpXKnxL1eK3JZSj72QUriNjLIqtgQ_8nbxODN2OL9wOoKNEtwA7NpFOvBq5BjlZ_VXEu_Icd0NbEjxjUZg/s1600/IMG_4856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16rfcGBgsoe5B3sn4rDr4ZxTmlykNFxH2d5HfLLv41SjccdWCIDzAGE4ovfpXKnxL1eK3JZSj72QUriNjLIqtgQ_8nbxODN2OL9wOoKNEtwA7NpFOvBq5BjlZ_VXEu_Icd0NbEjxjUZg/s320/IMG_4856.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As I was finished with this month's knitting projects - Two Turtle Doves - it occurred to me that it would be lovely to see these two modeled together. I first made this bomber hat for my son after picking out some yarn at a LYS (Local Yarn Shop) during my 40th birthday celebration weekend in NYC. The yarn I got reminded me of a BIG HUG - similar to those my son gives me when he is in need of affection... otherwise, it's like the hugs I <em>try</em> to give him all the time... even when he doesn't want them. LOL! I was excited to get this hat done for him, and after a couple of false starts - like most of my projects, I got it done in one afternoon. The original pattern - displayed here in red - has a whale bone cable. After finishing it, I decided to try it with a simple twist... my brother has a version in brown, and there is also the green version here. (Can you tell how much I love this pattern?)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I love the boyish demeanor this hat gives all the men who wear it. The hat does have a very childlike nature to it. And that nature is like the light we seem to seek or go after every Holiday Season. Whether you are 11, like my son, or a little older, like my Adams, there is something fun about wearing bomber hats. I love the detail of the stitches, the chained cords, and the crowns. Every time I have knitted this hat, I have gone back to the feeling of the yarn and the hugs exchanged between my son and me. They are the perfect light in my life.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
I hope this holiday season as you spend time searching for your light, you, too, spend some time receiving big warm hugs from those you love. Hugs are the best present ever...</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXCOuj1IwItdws6UErvzlEbEWyAnFDPtdRQozRzYDiSdnoWg3EFkgScALOfDa8H5CvXpL85KMlXvCz7xy60dy1J221EwttJxdkwiHaj4eqmPdoNy2yiiDNCYNWyvIhQ97YLCezeauhFg/s200/IMG_4860.JPG" width="200" /></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I wish you love, health, happiness... and light this Holiday Season. Happy Holidays!!!</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A special thanks to three wonderful men and friends who have helped me realize a good portion of this journey this year: Eric S., Rob D., and Steve B. Their love and support have fueled my creativity. Thank you, guys! :)e-</div>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-76050335850578322402010-11-26T10:00:00.000-05:002010-11-26T10:00:47.911-05:00Knee-Deep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqut1nPHeKZIZWnnDn2re_NZVin299Vad2_lwr17-mYkf7G0KaVVBhlVNZ_fAkRofiKcqgfrpKkCJV68omJLp1MuWB6sZubKMxx3lq4PmKlmhUhVOsYvFzJOD7TFkLNiUJOwjBDbFV7EI/s1600/IMG_4770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqut1nPHeKZIZWnnDn2re_NZVin299Vad2_lwr17-mYkf7G0KaVVBhlVNZ_fAkRofiKcqgfrpKkCJV68omJLp1MuWB6sZubKMxx3lq4PmKlmhUhVOsYvFzJOD7TFkLNiUJOwjBDbFV7EI/s320/IMG_4770.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I am knee-deep into the situation and I'm not afraid to handle it."</div><br />
Did I say that correctly? It does sound like "I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it." But I'm a pacifist; guns are not my thing. In any event, I am not sure if I got the right idiom or if it is even a real one. After 25 years of living in the States I still find myself confusing idioms between English and Spanish, and worse, arranging the words to really mess them up because once I hear them, I interpret these idioms in my head and share them back as I understood them. My friends have caught me saying more than once that I dislike running around, "like a chicken with no head" instead of "like a chicken with its head cut off." Aren't they the same? Food for fodder. Please discuss amongst yourselves. ;)<br />
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As of late, I have been finding myself knee-deep in some situations: (a) parenting - always a challenge and a joy all-in-one, (b) hate mail - you know someone's paying attention to you when they feel strongly enough to say something, (c) work... well, what else is there to say..., and (d) life. And I am grateful for the village - i.e., my support system - around me who helps me every day to cope with both the expected and the unexpected. Without them, I would be up to my neck in these situations without the possibility of ever coming out.<br />
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<strong>On parenting (again)...</strong><br />
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Since my last post, I realized that the parenting situations I was facing as of late were not requiring me to roll up my sleeves to handle them, but they were begging me to tuck in my pant legs inside my boots, protect my boots, and get knee-deep into them. I have grown to know this as "involved parenting". ;) <br />
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As I think of my life as a child, I remember that I often wanted "to be left alone," but in reality, all I wanted was some attention and time with my parents. Sadly, I never knew how to express that in a manner that let them know how much I love them and wanted them around me. I am, by sheer nature, raising a kid who needs time with his two dads, and more interestingly, doesn't always show it - until that dad/papa time is not there. Then, things go a little... off. I find that strickingly amazing... how the pattern repeats itself no matter how one tries to affect it. But you know what? I adore spending time with my son. I am in awe of him and what he brings to the world and I miss him when he's not around - even during the day when I'm at work and he's at school. He has so much to share with this world. It's amazing! I often say I can't wait to see him as an adult and see what he shares. (n.b., I <em>really can</em> wait! Because like my mother, I will cry, cry, and cry the day he leaves the nest.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOv1JEzabqcQYynPdzAEo4ID6jXYQ1dE5Bre0Co7ohzjXH-RR3giaZcQjlt3qZAu5a8Ho5ETde9YzATfh-EfpMAVLq2J2ZQwYmLYsDlnTkf1ooLalszEVH-L1tyTX9EljdPjbj1CIBfY/s1600/IMG_4759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOv1JEzabqcQYynPdzAEo4ID6jXYQ1dE5Bre0Co7ohzjXH-RR3giaZcQjlt3qZAu5a8Ho5ETde9YzATfh-EfpMAVLq2J2ZQwYmLYsDlnTkf1ooLalszEVH-L1tyTX9EljdPjbj1CIBfY/s200/IMG_4759.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Today, I am knee-deep into this situation (i.e., parenting), getting involved, and letting my son know that I am here for him. He, too, has a support system that cares about him and his success and we are all rallied to nurture him to be the best person he can be. And that is all his dads want for him - just like my parents wanted that for me. Things seem to be moving positively for him which only means that I may just need to stay this involved until he can feel my support in an ongoing fashion whether I am present or not. I want him to feel that way - supported - always.<br />
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It is interestlingly bizarre that as I continue writing, proofing, and pondering upon this post, I continue experiencing so many highs and lows in this journey to parenthood. Let it be learned that there is something important to be noted from "highs and lows" and that I as a parent need to be more aware of that so that I can help my son address it. The principle of "Steady Eddie" with our children has some merit - especially if we understand how important routines and familiarity are to our kiddos.<br />
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<strong>On hate mail...</strong><br />
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After I published the <em>Holding Hands</em> blog, I received my first piece of "hate mail". (I realize that the word "hate" is probably harsh, or like I share with my son, P, a little too strong, but this individual was not happy with the pictures I was publishing.) She started our interaction by asking me if I was looking for sex or knitting. I was confused and the question tremendously perplexed me! She asked me to put clothes on my models. I shared kindly with her - we'll call her... Roberta... - that they had clothes on. Don't they? Well, everything is covered, at least! After wondering for a bit, I asked her if she knew how to read because this blog was not about sex and the storyline I was exploring with the models was not about that either. Needless to say, after about five exchanges, I realized that she was not going to change who she was and no matter what I said, she would always equate nudity with sex. What a concept! I found myself knee-deep in a conversation with someone where that someone... Roberta... would not seek to understand but simply wanted to be understood. I couldn't let her issues (about nudity) be my issues. So, Roberta, I wish you well, and I want to thank you, too, as you just inspired the closing post of this arc I am exploring (i.e., What if Adam and Eve had knitwear?) next summer. Here are some more pictures just in case...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgI38gJAa0LWyEDEhv47ku6puar8bo7yoRzcNxGnskvOvKUquge50bbW9fDXnsS_1m9ih6ncQGmOx7CO0Fngy5mJcwrihv1BEly0zTEadbwGy4uunRe3UELCQw_q-mNvijMScN6B-uM4/s1600/IMG_4731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgI38gJAa0LWyEDEhv47ku6puar8bo7yoRzcNxGnskvOvKUquge50bbW9fDXnsS_1m9ih6ncQGmOx7CO0Fngy5mJcwrihv1BEly0zTEadbwGy4uunRe3UELCQw_q-mNvijMScN6B-uM4/s200/IMG_4731.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPtDP3e5qV6UCGgdvxvwvzm4ecqTP7LZCntXYy0RyIa3Nbo578AoPAN9XAFaHvmu1OjhrPaG_bspgkBNWPSMOc42LOzyrHE6CB9GXCtghmORRsU7K70YVeIXuzlQiR8VmqSuwhEOy6aY/s1600/IMG_4735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPtDP3e5qV6UCGgdvxvwvzm4ecqTP7LZCntXYy0RyIa3Nbo578AoPAN9XAFaHvmu1OjhrPaG_bspgkBNWPSMOc42LOzyrHE6CB9GXCtghmORRsU7K70YVeIXuzlQiR8VmqSuwhEOy6aY/s200/IMG_4735.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgI38gJAa0LWyEDEhv47ku6puar8bo7yoRzcNxGnskvOvKUquge50bbW9fDXnsS_1m9ih6ncQGmOx7CO0Fngy5mJcwrihv1BEly0zTEadbwGy4uunRe3UELCQw_q-mNvijMScN6B-uM4/s1600/IMG_4731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgI38gJAa0LWyEDEhv47ku6puar8bo7yoRzcNxGnskvOvKUquge50bbW9fDXnsS_1m9ih6ncQGmOx7CO0Fngy5mJcwrihv1BEly0zTEadbwGy4uunRe3UELCQw_q-mNvijMScN6B-uM4/s200/IMG_4731.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
<strong>A short word on work...</strong><br />
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I was sharing with someone recently that folks are usually at their best when they are following their hearts and get to pursue their vocation, no matter what that is. After a few weeks of attempting to handle an ugly situation with a peer of mine who was once a friend, too, I realized that - just like "Roberta" - I couldn't let whatever was affecting my peer become my issue. I am learning how to handle these situations by continuing to be cordial and getting the work done without <em>it (the crap) </em>affect me, my personal life, or the passion I feel for what I do on a daily basis. So I immersed myself, knee-deep, into what I love the most in my work - my vocation and calling - and I am loving it. What a high! I have found where and how to really enjoy what I do without sacrificing who I am.<br />
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<strong>And Adam found himself "knee-deep" in the situation...</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkWnDgg3c0Cqc_wupmjFjcojzdE5An_xTqO1cH9ATxFZw64hZkuKMDc-k_F6BE1QvFXFk4Jy2XYQWSeOiU-CauzwDpCXORkSUteyb6nYp7jG5AD829SuH1yijGg_O0q1ON4txtrRc6tg/s1600/IMG_4765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkWnDgg3c0Cqc_wupmjFjcojzdE5An_xTqO1cH9ATxFZw64hZkuKMDc-k_F6BE1QvFXFk4Jy2XYQWSeOiU-CauzwDpCXORkSUteyb6nYp7jG5AD829SuH1yijGg_O0q1ON4txtrRc6tg/s200/IMG_4765.jpg" width="133" /></a>My son and I <strong>LOVE</strong> to ski. We both love the snow and being outside during snow storms, at ski resorts, or even after a big blizzard has gone by. I personally prefer it than to being outside in the middle of the summer. It is hard to think after growing up in the tropics I can be so enamored with the winter season. Again, I think part of it came from those visits to Vermont with my family... I still remember the first and only snowman I built with my dad, the engineer both by vocation and profession. That snowman was so structurally sound that I think it probably had to melt with the spring in order to disappear because no storm would be able to break him down. Its shape was... different, and I loved it. This "different" is for certain one of the many things I loved about my dad and the legacy he left me. But alas, I digress...<br />
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One of the problems P and I often face while playing in the snow is that even when you sneak in your pant legs into your boots, snow crawls right in - especially when you find yourself knee-deep in snow. And once you have snow inside your shoe, you might as well go in: cold and wet feet are no fun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj10_tXrXA6FSxUnQN776BxLJlTP-a2oXvn27rmcoHOVA-L9FpvsU5qkdHI-oujr5uFCIZxJQgXiNUh30kwyWReZLdHEd2SvN84SDkG0Ve6twzTkFozTRtV-SvjyaJ178J-jFFajeu-0/s1600/IMG_4773_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj10_tXrXA6FSxUnQN776BxLJlTP-a2oXvn27rmcoHOVA-L9FpvsU5qkdHI-oujr5uFCIZxJQgXiNUh30kwyWReZLdHEd2SvN84SDkG0Ve6twzTkFozTRtV-SvjyaJ178J-jFFajeu-0/s200/IMG_4773_2.JPG" width="184" /></a><br />
I realize that some people may see these as leg warmers, but since they are not really warming the legs and just really providing extra coverage at the boot opening and the areas where snow may just filter in, I prefer to refer to them as my "boot covers". Will you entertain me? ;)<br />
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I wanted these boot covers to be thick and masculine, but I also wanted to explore the beauty of cabling stitches (see <em>Twists & Turns</em>) and what you can do with them to tell the story. As I conceived these, I imagined snow getting caught in some of the nooks and crannies of the covers highlighting the work and the love that had been put into them. To add to the masculine feel, I designed faux leather straps to allow for the bottom of the cover to open atop the foot.<br />
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I knitted these from the bottom up which made cabling really fun to reverse. What cannot be seen is the flap that holds the buckle which separates for additional space and to allow for the top of the foot.<br />
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I love how these covers look on Adam.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Az16JxQduYanB4_Bdl_eCMvlY6hJkg59X7UFkB_nGX6q2jdrny4SfpOsQAesiNIpcTP_HDK7QK36Wl-fXFL0h5IhR-ds8czz3FryZyczIETsaGaDDf0ktDy88GY7SxIpDGPzcLcNMX4/s1600/IMG_4746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Az16JxQduYanB4_Bdl_eCMvlY6hJkg59X7UFkB_nGX6q2jdrny4SfpOsQAesiNIpcTP_HDK7QK36Wl-fXFL0h5IhR-ds8czz3FryZyczIETsaGaDDf0ktDy88GY7SxIpDGPzcLcNMX4/s200/IMG_4746.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
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A special thanks to my dear friend Rob D. who modeled these chunky boot covers for me. His spirit and joyousness have him knee-deep into life, and I love that about him.;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-40338540255760795212010-10-31T21:44:00.000-04:002010-10-31T21:44:06.276-04:00Twists & Turns<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZhNx4dBkE9Z00D3uLmqg2GugFPIfHznd9njNfc2qZqN9zSFiBei3sE3SVlNh-k1OS22_OtBm2oSV3PvKH7ECk7mc1BncOoE7ImkI1iBptYHrW1LvWLCquB4VlbQ_uU6UlMajSYWbGYM/s1600/IMG_4710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZhNx4dBkE9Z00D3uLmqg2GugFPIfHznd9njNfc2qZqN9zSFiBei3sE3SVlNh-k1OS22_OtBm2oSV3PvKH7ECk7mc1BncOoE7ImkI1iBptYHrW1LvWLCquB4VlbQ_uU6UlMajSYWbGYM/s320/IMG_4710.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Have you ever seen the details of a beautiful Irish fisherman sweater?</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Here are some links for you...</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><a href="http://www.murphyofireland.com/aran-sweaters.php"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.murphyofireland.com/aran-sweaters.php</span></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> and</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><a href="http://www.clanarans.com/ca/catalog/?gclid=CO_I5Ii1_aQCFRpO5QodLUw3hw"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.clanarans.com/ca/catalog/?gclid=CO_I5Ii1_aQCFRpO5QodLUw3hw</span></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;">)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Growing up in <place w:st="on">Puerto Rico</place>, I never owned any winter clothes. My only exposure to winter attire and sweaters was left to my grandparents in NY who kindly borrowed sweaters and coats to lend us for the "every-third-Christmas-or-so" visits. Today, looking at those pictures in NYC and our grandparents’ home in <state w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vermont</place></state> brings back interesting memories – both emotional and tactile. ...the cold of the air, the warmth of the sweaters and coats, the fun things that we just didn't do in Puerto Rico: ice skating, Rockefeller center, the snow, the slush, the smell of the furnace at my grandparents'. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;">It wasn’t until I went to college that I had to worry about owning clothes that could keep me warm through the cold <place w:st="on">New England</place> winters. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;">The summer after my college sophomore year, I had the opportunity to visit Ireland for the summer. And while I was in Dublin, in the middle of that hot summer, I had to figure out a way to buy two (very expensive for me at the time) undyed Irish fisherman sweaters. These sweaters are beautiful and each of them tell a story about the family who wears them, the men who were often at sea making a living, and today, about the tradition. These sweaters were very popular in Boston where everybody - and I mean EVERYBODY - is Irish. So, I had to have one... or two...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br />
I love knitted cables. They tell a story. They are complex and intricate. And yet, they are so simple to make. I love knitt<i>ing</i> cables.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHb4Lx8fbxB3j6-FpphQVFcmC7EZIm1hbg2CgknJOa-QvMEJhmDOvYEPK3tywtZHhLiXzRg1hTzEhfsvvqyl73AG5SaHWh6T-6cuyZ6XCKkXCqvDoaut6gPEshB0gRLeT2B93A4uDSD4/s1600/IMG_4665_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHb4Lx8fbxB3j6-FpphQVFcmC7EZIm1hbg2CgknJOa-QvMEJhmDOvYEPK3tywtZHhLiXzRg1hTzEhfsvvqyl73AG5SaHWh6T-6cuyZ6XCKkXCqvDoaut6gPEshB0gRLeT2B93A4uDSD4/s200/IMG_4665_2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><strong>On parenting…</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Parenting is like a two-lane road full of twists and turns, crossing states, planes, mountains, and valleys. I have often said that being a father is the most difficult, and at the same time, the most rewarding job I have ever had. Like a two-lane road, we as parents often set the course for what’s to happen; if I work hard, I’ll be able to look ahead for about a mile or so. However, I seem to forget that just like a road, there are twists that often – in a surprising manner – present themselves.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">I tell my friends that I love driving my car. It handles like a dream. It grabs the road no matter the conditions – rain, shine, or even snow. I am so in awe of it that I tend to take the corners a little sharply so that I can feel the car gripping the asphalt. Who would have ever thought that I would have been such the “driver” person?!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Unfortunately, in this parenting road, I have no car to help me feel “in control” of the situation. The twists and turns come suddenly and without notice; they can make me feel “less than adequate” as a father, and even as a person. And I often wish I could find a little rest area or a passing landing where I can just park to either plan, think, or even wait before responding. The phrase "growing pains" has to refer to more than just the physical pains of growing...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Parenting is like knitted cable work: complex, intricate, full of twists and turns.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><strong>On life…</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMnwNr4oxzD29yZjtTr1hotk-9ou1i4TK9aKEHFRfH8Ey8_BH5JayqLLz8AXzjtzTGDICbatQ1eAgV0BaHuX251vzx9-P99zqXaKF3DbvTLjquzUFOXr2AUDnwtsifFYaASzce1ppt9E/s1600/IMG_4675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMnwNr4oxzD29yZjtTr1hotk-9ou1i4TK9aKEHFRfH8Ey8_BH5JayqLLz8AXzjtzTGDICbatQ1eAgV0BaHuX251vzx9-P99zqXaKF3DbvTLjquzUFOXr2AUDnwtsifFYaASzce1ppt9E/s200/IMG_4675.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Communication is like a two-lane road full of twists and turns, connecting people. Positively or negatively, communication connects us all. Like knitted cables with traveling stitches, our messages veer right and veer left. Sometimes – and hopefully often - they seek and meet in the center. But it seems like more often than not, we face issues which are their core are the product of miscommunications.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">For me, parenting seems to be becoming a lesson in simple communication – since those “terrible twos” which in hind sight were not that terrible, really. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Relationships are all about communication, both spoken and not. Work (the one that pays you and pays your bills) is all about communications. Can you think of anything that does not involve or is at its core all about communicating?</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Communication is like knitted cable work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><strong>On Adam’s cables…</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Adam’s knitted cables tell a story. The scarf he wears is my partner’s (Jon’s) pattern: The Jonny Jump Rope. It was my first cable work project. I had been wanting to knit it since the night I met Jon… he was wearing his version of it (in Navy) when we met and I was fascinated with it. (Well, I was also fascinated with Jon too, but don’t tell him that.) The intricate cables which expand from a tight rope to a diamond as if the jump rope were in mid-swing reminded me of the Irish fisherman sweaters I once bought so energetically. So, when it was my turn to learn how to cable and start my Jonny Jump Rope, I chose a color of yarn that reminded me of one of my beautiful Irish sweaters. Jon did such a nice job with the pattern that it has become a favorite of mine.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknguVkwKp8gQrRS__1od09BBga8FH92en12sWaI8d-weRdIz-uLY_t0Rsvg9IbIm0ZT7LoiD0C8OU2Ay6EvG5DNGbmV8KJ4cARDSzl7kJKskO5ger8qD9SIJRqAaw-Qn61Ozg33I2laQ/s1600/IMG_4716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknguVkwKp8gQrRS__1od09BBga8FH92en12sWaI8d-weRdIz-uLY_t0Rsvg9IbIm0ZT7LoiD0C8OU2Ay6EvG5DNGbmV8KJ4cARDSzl7kJKskO5ger8qD9SIJRqAaw-Qn61Ozg33I2laQ/s200/IMG_4716.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Once I had that scarf completed, I wanted a corresponding hat to go with it. I found this easy-to-make hat knitted flat and using short rows. This makes the cable on the band easier to make. Unlike Joss, though, this hat is made all at once and sewn on the back. Originally, the pattern required ear flaps, but those never really looked right, not with this yarn, and not in this color…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RTFEPaH6kfTdpBVlaTHY6AH17OHC9ya2T2vKgNq-FU-51xBjA5TKYwbwWzHK5zd2l2AGbTZSx1r3V1CdsYWB-7TjAcJ7r-usTjC0FUSiNB3_x9kLbyxtdxOxtFHKgIeACnGjrFFPRYc/s1600/IMG_4727_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RTFEPaH6kfTdpBVlaTHY6AH17OHC9ya2T2vKgNq-FU-51xBjA5TKYwbwWzHK5zd2l2AGbTZSx1r3V1CdsYWB-7TjAcJ7r-usTjC0FUSiNB3_x9kLbyxtdxOxtFHKgIeACnGjrFFPRYc/s200/IMG_4727_2.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Adam’s cables tell the story of parents around the world driving on two-lane roads and facing the unexpected twists and turns our children present. Adam’s cables tell the story of the communications' trials and tribulations we face with our family members, our friends, our co-workers, and even with strangers. These are</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"> all two-lane roads. But there is one thing we must all remember... For the lane in which I drive, there is a corresponding lane perhaps going in the opposite direction, but potentially also moving in the same. For every argument, disagreement, or misunderstanding we have in one lane, there is another side. And… these twists and turns have taught me that…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div><ul style="margin-top: 0pt;" type="square"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">On the other side of controversy, there is peace.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">On the other side of confusion, there is understanding.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">On the other side of a tear, there is a belly laugh so hard, you can't help but cry.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">And on the other side of frustration, there is tolerance, there is compassion, and there is love.</span></li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">I love knitted cables. e-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma;">A special thanks to my friend Steve B. for modeling these Twists and Turns. I am so thankful that after almost 15 years of knowing Steve, I finally got a chance to reacquaint and connect with him and his partner Rob. Those are the beautiful twists and turns of life.</span></div>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-40041818931149142612010-09-24T18:44:00.002-04:002010-10-31T21:06:30.867-04:00Holding Hands<div style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPq2pVEptMMVSxo8I3aHKeFH1QwDxGxE0IB3xfPSerMF_mywuG1booeHC2b69Q2jik6rOogGIv9ZuQ_k45GPZtklPvd02sGYoQ4Ip1X59Xe4596puufIqe3Oy-L6yyaEYmwo0d-uJjDV8/s1600/IMG_4595_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPq2pVEptMMVSxo8I3aHKeFH1QwDxGxE0IB3xfPSerMF_mywuG1booeHC2b69Q2jik6rOogGIv9ZuQ_k45GPZtklPvd02sGYoQ4Ip1X59Xe4596puufIqe3Oy-L6yyaEYmwo0d-uJjDV8/s320/IMG_4595_2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am a tactile person. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought you should know that about me before we begin today. </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am a tactile person. I always thought it was because I am Hispanic... when you look at us as a culture, we're all about the hello hugs and the touching on the shoulder, but more beautifully, men and women and family members always greet each other with kisses on the cheek. It is such the perfect opening punctuation mark (yes, in Spanish, we do have opening punctuation marks: ¿ or ¡ for the typical ? or !) to any conversation/meeting! However, the more I have studied my upbringing, the more I have realized that yes, perhaps it is because I'm Hispanic that I'm a tactile person, but it is also the wonderful matriarchal community in which I was raised - and to which I am highly grateful - that explains why touching is so important to me. Between my abuelita and her sisters, and their next generation: my mom and her sister, I was always surrounded by hugs, kisses, invitations to sit on their laps, and touch! Believe it or not, my abuelita held me in her lap even through my teenage years. It always made me feel so loved and special! Even today, my mom's hugs are the longest, and my tía Carlota's multiple-kisses, the most repetitively loving you'll ever find. (I miss my abuelita - R.I.P. - and her sisters, some of them who have passed and others whom I have not seen in decades.)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgei_vmVswM2z3_V4xHce-_EsgtpQ8ApAiujfC5P_t0EyASV2fwznzQzWAgtuTGA0ytIPy8TR8Otq-le8dzsEIbX-rgrI93GpNmhSieaiKnYURmwKjuIzyz8Ia3QPmLtGY5pvAtzm8PiM4/s1600/IMG_4557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgei_vmVswM2z3_V4xHce-_EsgtpQ8ApAiujfC5P_t0EyASV2fwznzQzWAgtuTGA0ytIPy8TR8Otq-le8dzsEIbX-rgrI93GpNmhSieaiKnYURmwKjuIzyz8Ia3QPmLtGY5pvAtzm8PiM4/s200/IMG_4557.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is something to be said for spending time with your children and expressing through touch how much they mean to you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>In raising my son...</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From the day Pablo was born, I have purposefully channeled all of those women who influenced whom I have become. Since P has two dads, I guess I wanted to make sure he never missed that (often believed to be) <em>feminine</em> touch. (No hate mail, please; it's just a musing...) </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I tend to hug P a lot. I tend to touch his head or his shoulder. I love to hold his feet which are getting big and not so boyish any more (!). I love when he reaches out in the morning for that first hug which says "good morning" and "I love you!" I love cuddling with him to watch TV or a movie, or sit next to him while he plays a game. And I love to hold his hand, but I melt when he reaches for <em>my</em> hand and <em>chooses</em> to hold mine, at home while at the dinner table, or more surprisingly when we are in public walking somewhere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To this day, I often remember a special moment when P was only a few days old. Some of our friends - all men, P, his dad, and I (P's papa) had gone out to a restaurant for dinner. P was in his pumpkin seat sleeping as he SELDOM did. Next to us were a man and a woman having dinner. From a quick conversation, we gathered that he had three boys from a previous marriage. And even though many new parents shy away from "getting advice" from others, I welcome the piece of advice he provided. He said, "You may want to hug him and kiss him a lot while he's this small..." I smiled. "...because later on, he won't be so open to it..." And I nodded in understanding. "...and he won't smell as good!" And I busted in laughter. (Thank you for that one, kind man. I am still thinking about it 11 years later!)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLpyndSzzfLpIk6nQxcm3hfTigSJKoxngj1aNhBxsi4cTlw7iCKEA6t5taGO_idtDX3STt7gZxJ_o14EjgyYeBdOuAF25f2l-ohKRuBbB3orRNm-bg69LpFE2LVtAGjC94MvMvYIMztE/s1600/IMG_4590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLpyndSzzfLpIk6nQxcm3hfTigSJKoxngj1aNhBxsi4cTlw7iCKEA6t5taGO_idtDX3STt7gZxJ_o14EjgyYeBdOuAF25f2l-ohKRuBbB3orRNm-bg69LpFE2LVtAGjC94MvMvYIMztE/s200/IMG_4590.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><strong>A parenthetical thought about dating and <em>singleitis</em>...</strong><br />
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Life is funny. After an 11-year-old relationship with P's dad, a few years back, I was single again. This time, I had a son, and life had moved alongside me. Things weren't the same, so I had to do a little work to rediscover the evolved me. I wanted to grow to become a better person, a better partner, and a better parent. In my <em>singleitis</em> (I'll explain the word further down), I found as I dated that touch is not for everyone. I'm not sure if it is the culture in which I live or the different meanings that touching has on people. Often, from those I was dating, I got the idea that touch was "a little too close, a little too much, and a little too soon - regardless of time". But rather than changing who I was (and I am, today) for these men, I sat still with the love of my friends and my family, and then found someone whose hand I love to hold and who, in turn, holds my heart...<br />
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<strong>And so, in the beginning...</strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUx6_pilYTYdNc9suWSBOir5LZnvLN7kJCyhow7nF8z8k9eENvU_QPa0WJdNDzZruXRBodKrEqvLxMrGJaOZVMBXJJzfdiy2CM459_dQidpdrcZabI988Dfdo22yuJDrZqPCLaE86LVkU/s1600/IMG_4605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUx6_pilYTYdNc9suWSBOir5LZnvLN7kJCyhow7nF8z8k9eENvU_QPa0WJdNDzZruXRBodKrEqvLxMrGJaOZVMBXJJzfdiy2CM459_dQidpdrcZabI988Dfdo22yuJDrZqPCLaE86LVkU/s200/IMG_4605.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
I heard once that hands are the most injured part of the body. It makes sense... both kids and adults get our hands into everything! For many of us, they often are the first thing to get cold. And if you like to be outdoors in the winter - like my son and I like to do - covering them is important.<br />
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Many knitters suffer from a common disease known as <em>singleitis</em> - the inability to finish the pair (or second one) of a two-item garment such as socks, gloves/mittens/wristlets, ear-warmers... you get the idea. I have heard many explanations as to why this happens:<br />
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<ul><li>Once you have worked so hard on the first piece, the second one seems like an unsurmountable amount of work...</li>
<li>Once you have made so many modifications to the first piece, you can't remember how to complete the second one...</li>
<li>The work for hands and feet are often too detail-oriented...</li>
<li>It gets boring...</li>
</ul>During my first year as a knitter, I started a thrummed mittens project just to abandon it after the first one was completed. :( Since then, I have refused to knit socks, and I attempted a pair of fingerless gloves for my son which turned out disasterously. Oy! It goes without saying that since I wanted to explore Adam & Eve in knitwear, I would have to go where I had not gone before... or in a long time... the hands. If the hands are the most injured part of the body, I wanted to do something for them that was simple, warm, and just me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFKeDkQN25xkkUvWniBeFbalIsq4xt5nCoEStW3Mtf9vQI6JdxDCiKvE7APLLbcOoflqgk357GBCVU-a7OJIzN0vlfP8dweo7HRmG1cKqseQcbVgN3FNKiVzBZjFYAgYVMd8Vd4FdJMk/s1600/IMG_4625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFKeDkQN25xkkUvWniBeFbalIsq4xt5nCoEStW3Mtf9vQI6JdxDCiKvE7APLLbcOoflqgk357GBCVU-a7OJIzN0vlfP8dweo7HRmG1cKqseQcbVgN3FNKiVzBZjFYAgYVMd8Vd4FdJMk/s200/IMG_4625.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
These mittens were knitted in the round with a ribbed cuff and a simple, knitted front and back. What I think makes it special is the quiet cable band that runs on the outside of each mitten and through the front of the fingers. It was interesting to conceive and play out, and thanks to the many techniques explored, I am really eager to try on variations on this theme: e.g., try the cable band on the thumb and run it all the way through in a seamless manner, texture the palm of the mitten for added grip.<br />
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I love mittens because: (a) they use your own body heat to keep your fingers warm, (b) they bring me back to childhood when we didn't have full isolating mobility of our hands, and (c) they are great for holding hands!<br />
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So, I'm cured from my <em>singleitis</em> in more than one way. I found a partner in Jon who is as tactile as I am and for that (and many other reasons) I love him. I can knit two of the same things so I can now go back to re-try my son's fingerless gloves in the funkiest colors of green (I love his adventurous side!), and I can start knitting mittens for myself in an effort to keep my hands warm this winter while skiing, or simply walking with Jon and P holding hands! ;)e-<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVyM-r5_KmHFsuhqsvmf972YXmhDt0hiceAUmiMPPZK13vfGoejUq8p8pjiNYXuJpee5QycbrLyHm9SUvHTfuwRGD-pEiSMekUal4PXZSJgKETTNh9sVMArP2LTg9Z80kdch0Wnzs4Ak/s1600/IMG_4638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVyM-r5_KmHFsuhqsvmf972YXmhDt0hiceAUmiMPPZK13vfGoejUq8p8pjiNYXuJpee5QycbrLyHm9SUvHTfuwRGD-pEiSMekUal4PXZSJgKETTNh9sVMArP2LTg9Z80kdch0Wnzs4Ak/s200/IMG_4638.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
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Thank you to my dear friend Dave G. (a.k.a., Don Dave) for modeling these for me. Blue is his color, so it was a wonderful experience to further explore the color with these mittens. More ironically is the fact that Dave is a hand therapist and this irony <em>almost</em> went dead on all of us after we had pinpointed the yarn color, and the article he'd be modeling. Thank you, DD!;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-44321503440892178542010-08-27T08:32:00.000-04:002010-08-27T08:32:52.136-04:00Ribbit, Ribbit<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">First and foremost... This post is especially dedicated to any parent who has ever wished s/he could erase a "sour moment" (and <em>you</em> know exactly what I'm talking about) with their kids, but also to any human being who has ever wished for a do-over.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQ3mmZBiXVaZKRfuhPOQi3BxiSf8BefMCG81uZfxsvViO0UnG4CVlVMGnGZFwESTVHwUic4LrxvVy0oQPB7oC_aX_Quvogi29OxgyHE777lCq_8eAKYxlj6c0S3wP8S3nSGwciwsygG4/s1600/IMG_4492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQ3mmZBiXVaZKRfuhPOQi3BxiSf8BefMCG81uZfxsvViO0UnG4CVlVMGnGZFwESTVHwUic4LrxvVy0oQPB7oC_aX_Quvogi29OxgyHE777lCq_8eAKYxlj6c0S3wP8S3nSGwciwsygG4/s200/IMG_4492.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">On life and parenting...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Raising a child - heck, living... presents its challenges, doesn't it? There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think or wish for at least one do-over. It goes without saying that only in movies or some of those Nick cartoons does anyone ever get a life or a moment do-over... Oh, well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I feel lucky enough to have an amazing support system. Together with me, they often celebrate the child I am raising and the bond that the two of us are creating. "Luckily," they are not shy about telling me when I was a bit too tough, came across as not-understanding, or when... I could have handled <em>that </em>parenting moment... better. Those are my "I wish for a do-over" moments. In them, I have often heard a little bit of my dad, and a little bit of all of the noise out there in the world crashing into my interactions with my son. Each of those moments is often significant - if not for me, then, for my son. Why does it feel so difficult at times? Certainly, the rewards far outweigh these sour moments, and still... why does it often feel like you are walking uphill both ways with weights on your backpack? (Did anyone say "back-to-school" yet? LOL!)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMzJ61ksw2xHneLxXRZWEWGgWIUGMGSfNK_d_GP-ZC_19znnIqm8yHz-q7zDh_lsMB0Bqf_yoCFs8FlLdqExhb-SNReGYyKTm6btZzzj7ISZxY0psAET0rHhk_adnWcYFuEgusWs1kXo/s1600/IMG_0582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMzJ61ksw2xHneLxXRZWEWGgWIUGMGSfNK_d_GP-ZC_19znnIqm8yHz-q7zDh_lsMB0Bqf_yoCFs8FlLdqExhb-SNReGYyKTm6btZzzj7ISZxY0psAET0rHhk_adnWcYFuEgusWs1kXo/s200/IMG_0582.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My dear friend, Ray, often reminds me to be kind to myself and give myself a break. After all, we parents are trying the best we can with what we have. We may not be able to do-over our interactions, but we can learn, and re-learn to avoid the same pitfalls in the future. I keep trying... </span><br />
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<strong></strong><strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">On knitting, learning, and re-learning...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thankfully, there are places where do-overs are allowed. In knitting, even after you have cut the yarn, do-overs are not only permissible, but they have become a lesson on which to grow.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq87YeaEkugiPerdNWML6mtwS_NQqED2huqbMgRWK4fmKu904XE4FjVgaiPgwzRewxuap9KbPrCsqAxVgAwule0qqaA1GqNoo_b2NLg9Jj51t4_jbxcb8G4LxEd_pRzH7AnLiS_VrmoT8/s1600/IMG_4512_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq87YeaEkugiPerdNWML6mtwS_NQqED2huqbMgRWK4fmKu904XE4FjVgaiPgwzRewxuap9KbPrCsqAxVgAwule0qqaA1GqNoo_b2NLg9Jj51t4_jbxcb8G4LxEd_pRzH7AnLiS_VrmoT8/s200/IMG_4512_2.JPG" width="185" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ever since I started my new <em>life</em> as a knitter, I have often been nervous about blatant mistakes on my work... Yes, I know, most mistakes correct themselves in the long run, and as one of my LYS owners reminds me... "We knitters often forget about the thousands of perfect stitches we make and only focus on the <em>one </em>that did not come out as well..." (Now, that is a life lesson I want to absorb and pass on to my son!) However, when a blatant mistake, one with which you cannot live, is made, we have three options: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">(1) back-track stitch-by-stitch to fix the issue, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(2) put the work aside and pray to some knitting force that the mistake will go away by itself... LOL! (...and what ends up happening is that the work is never picked up again), or </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(3) rip it and either catch the work in a row below your mistake or start from scratch.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNt8-ALADwRudDul_3KWa-tZhTf4yIBuErz9zHh-jqYI3uP8gFUFp0XNSTkUqLeB2xuZjqnWuUUqjjlDU5YjgQ1hwL1feTIE7smcUYC4KREXH02wKVstSvRtS_IslsuKdMfSmdE0ReXgk/s1600/IMG_4521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNt8-ALADwRudDul_3KWa-tZhTf4yIBuErz9zHh-jqYI3uP8gFUFp0XNSTkUqLeB2xuZjqnWuUUqjjlDU5YjgQ1hwL1feTIE7smcUYC4KREXH02wKVstSvRtS_IslsuKdMfSmdE0ReXgk/s200/IMG_4521.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Until recently, I only subscribed to option number one since the mere thought of taking the needles off of my work caused more agita than the announcement that <em>Pushing Daisies </em>AND<em> Eli Stone</em> were BOTH going off the air! :( However, early in the summer, I met a group of men who empowered me to cut, rip, and backtrack in a more aggressive and speedy manner. Ribbit, Ribbit. (Thank you, Todd and Michael!) And why not?! After all, stitches can be redone, and if a mistake in your lovingly knitted article is going to make you unhappy, start it over, or rip it until you feel comfortable that it is what YOU want it to be.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">Introducing <em>Joss</em>...</span></strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F7Fk6LzJEZZ8oIKryvAlMKXBU6PRqOTtqESfKC1X3M_HY1TUzSvm5vJphcsv-SsUX1ewL2OJvHpEDe_p420zydOa7G22eGvx9WEHWlGorPA27qSZVwvbebeTZyHP4WRGlQjklczA9m0/s1600/IMG_4500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F7Fk6LzJEZZ8oIKryvAlMKXBU6PRqOTtqESfKC1X3M_HY1TUzSvm5vJphcsv-SsUX1ewL2OJvHpEDe_p420zydOa7G22eGvx9WEHWlGorPA27qSZVwvbebeTZyHP4WRGlQjklczA9m0/s200/IMG_4500.jpg" width="133" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">In this "What if Adam and Eve had had knitwear?" series, <em>Joss</em> was the hat that had seven false starts and when it was finished <em>for the first time</em>, the crown was attacked by a pair of scissors so that it could be frogged (ripped) down to the band and reknitted. YES! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At first, I couldn't find the right yarn, and even after I found it, I didn't have enough of it to move past the band. :( Once I started knitting the band, I couldn't figure out what I didn't like about it, so it kept getting ripped. I needed to be happy with it. All along, I kept on testing different yarns, gauges, and even patterns for the cable. The crown was started three times, and when I finished it, I went to try it on my model and it looked a bit... off... so, with a glass of bubbly in hand and a pair of scissors (scary combination for both hair and yarn), we sat on our front porch, and I ripped it, ripped it... all the way to the band. Now, that's empowerment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This hat was knitted following the ultimate pattern: a vision of what you want and <u>no</u> instructions. More empowerment... (Wait! How can it ever be wrong then?! LOL!) The cabled band was knitted first to about 22" (approx. 85 rows) with slipped stitches at the end of each row and a buttonhole about 1/2 " before the end. Once I had the band fitted for length, I picked up 75 stitches from the wrong edge of the band - as I wanted to keep the slipped stitches border visible, and stopping about 1/2" <em>before </em>the buttonhole as it needed to overlap with the other side. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On my first row, I increased by one stitch every <em>third</em> stitch for a total of 100 stitches, and from there, I followed by easy-breezy pattern for my beanies, purling my whole way through.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljfs9ZJWUFMoIaLrdOJaJlfdb8kyjxH4VBep6KgB30XcYt0VO9NTQWeXWhoDpZzmjDqHwLuQrSpiBDjOcK2sSQ5fB5C-r_Qh2PH2497ATIzb8rySAuZ7nXgrVaEIDtbj_bLGXc5T332g/s1600/IMG_4443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljfs9ZJWUFMoIaLrdOJaJlfdb8kyjxH4VBep6KgB30XcYt0VO9NTQWeXWhoDpZzmjDqHwLuQrSpiBDjOcK2sSQ5fB5C-r_Qh2PH2497ATIzb8rySAuZ7nXgrVaEIDtbj_bLGXc5T332g/s200/IMG_4443.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love the color and the detail of the button. Thanks to the many do-overs and the opportunity to have them while knitting this hat, the end product was a flirty beanie with a lovely button detail perfect for fall and winter - and now perfect for my sister who already claimed ownership of the hat. Hee, hee! e-</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0zdIEt9mWqDUqa0Zdyx-kQym6976mFHoAMMj1k1znWnIqxTXWFlVv7sQlTEGxsvjc_lUlaeGGTJmUNEQKuTFhyphenhyphen6OoR7URqd-fLac9Lst1dBrn3DKZkCz3oBXwdMt3fO-IXypmvKkpxY/s1600/IMG_4525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0zdIEt9mWqDUqa0Zdyx-kQym6976mFHoAMMj1k1znWnIqxTXWFlVv7sQlTEGxsvjc_lUlaeGGTJmUNEQKuTFhyphenhyphen6OoR7URqd-fLac9Lst1dBrn3DKZkCz3oBXwdMt3fO-IXypmvKkpxY/s200/IMG_4525.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A special thanks for my wonderful <em>and</em> beautiful <em>and</em> not-at-all-shy, dear friend Susan H. for modeling this hat. We had a great time working together. There's more to come! Please stay tuned... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-12469488200685587602010-07-28T23:39:00.001-04:002010-08-05T16:08:27.445-04:00Try Something New!<div style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZyu4ZlFklqB8Ti-Vji7tniYUS6egVc6UhziqlxRp1ECcXbX2Vn4ULoqbtm2eHbn5q0mnyaXpBHMBkoavp8SrGvdCjmUex3zogNU2CSz1_9fjmilNYshZuUyV5sTBLmYN9h9vlUW6au4/s1600/esmith+five.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZyu4ZlFklqB8Ti-Vji7tniYUS6egVc6UhziqlxRp1ECcXbX2Vn4ULoqbtm2eHbn5q0mnyaXpBHMBkoavp8SrGvdCjmUex3zogNU2CSz1_9fjmilNYshZuUyV5sTBLmYN9h9vlUW6au4/s200/esmith+five.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I love the idea of trying new things out. </span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My sister and I have always had this unspoken agreement that when we go shopping, trying things out is essential to knowing if we like them or not. The same goes with food. ("No, mami, todavia no lo he probado. Asi que no puedo decirle 'fo'. Tienes razón.") Similarly, I often tell my son that trying things out allows us a taste of the food, the clothes, or whatever the activity, so that we can make better decisions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This past spring, in the spirit of trying new things, my family and I visited New York City (NYC). Let me clarify when I say "family"... my son (10), my brother's son (15), my sister (forever young), my partner Jon (we often joke that he's 90-something), and I together on vacation. While it wasn't any of the adults' first time in NYC, it was the kiddos' (the almost tween and the teenager's) first visit to the Big Apple.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On life through a young one's eyes...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because the adults had been to NYC so many times, we seem to have forgotten how wonderous a place this is! My son was perplexed by the big city, the traffic, the people. I often found myself quoting my aunts, uncles, and grandparents who lived in NYC while we were growing up, when they all had to rein us in every time we went for a walk. "P, keep an eye on us or hold my hand!" I would say often. But it is difficult to follow or not just stare when you are surrounded by skycrapers, beautiful greenery (as in Central Park) and so much activity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">By the second day - and based on my lesson learned when P and I went to Disney World many years back - I surrendered to the experience of just enjoying it all as if it were all new to me...</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On those new things...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was on one of those days when I was walking around like my ten-year-old that I noticed the most interesting ad. In its center, there were two chopsticks with knitted noodles. (Did you know you can knit with almost anything?!) I laughed and pointed it to my sister and my partner - both knitters. I loved it. (BTW, since then, I have researched this further, and of course, YouTube has videos on "how to" knit with noodles and chopsticks. Go figure!)</span><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This idea got me thinking, though... I love my local yarn shops (LYS), and I wondered... Could I find something to knit somewhere else other than my LYS or my LNJ (that's "local noodle joint")?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Since we were staging our home for sale and buying a new-old (!) home which would need some TLC, we were visiting home improvement stores <em>every</em> weekend. (What happened to my LYS weekly visits?! Sniff!) It was at our local home improvement store that I ventured into two aisles looking for: (a) rope and cording and (b) snaps and closures. I have always loved the bright colors in which nylon cording (a.k.a. mason lines) come: oranges, hot pink, yellow, and even pure white. Could I knit something for "Adam" which was manly-like and wearable using these? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And so, these necklace and bracelets were born...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fYndU0BzHwZgEw_L4RJF3EanXt8CXGfy6u-TBf9BQua9QtojRiyJOvE6xbfRCY4TalAhzu1zfWdrW1JE29UFkRSAFmX8hmjoWer46naEGmU02WJU0A4iznMxPoOi_AD3iTunPyWEWjU/s1600/esmith+six.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fYndU0BzHwZgEw_L4RJF3EanXt8CXGfy6u-TBf9BQua9QtojRiyJOvE6xbfRCY4TalAhzu1zfWdrW1JE29UFkRSAFmX8hmjoWer46naEGmU02WJU0A4iznMxPoOi_AD3iTunPyWEWjU/s200/esmith+six.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Using the infamous i-cord, I cast on four stitches onto the the clasp (i.e., used the clasp as a secondary needle on which to cast on) and knitted the i-cord long enough not to be a chocker, but short enough so that it wouldn't be a "strand of pearls". To create a second loop, I flattened the i-cord, and reduced by K2tog until I had one stitch left. When weaving in my end, I left a little loop which could be grabbed by the clasp.</span> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiez1-PAx5PlaQ2eE2lEuNVuE10GARBxHqUZ0p3z-DMVkUzpq_q79VKarriK-B1R-iUYKZ-WnyDl_us9jzbmhWMg82XB9ybuyz1Ckcow8QOgUEWRWJe20jgDQGmiVZe6oxUGir27U9t4OU/s1600/esmith+two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiez1-PAx5PlaQ2eE2lEuNVuE10GARBxHqUZ0p3z-DMVkUzpq_q79VKarriK-B1R-iUYKZ-WnyDl_us9jzbmhWMg82XB9ybuyz1Ckcow8QOgUEWRWJe20jgDQGmiVZe6oxUGir27U9t4OU/s200/esmith+two.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I applied the same principle with the hot pink bracelet (three stitches instead of four), except that I reversed the method... I cast on separately <em>sans clasp</em> and knitted the i-cord until it was long enough to go around the wrist. Instead of casting off, I replaced the needle with the clasp and snuck in the end through the cord. To secure the bracelet, I just snuck in the cast on end into the clasp. Voila! ;)</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Lastly, I had to try cabling with one of these... Six stitches this time with a three-stitch cabling (to the back)... Could it look like a braided bracelet... I think so... </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BsVVxNMvx7zLlp9C4iF07sF4rQc51WucVwducJOecyeoIildOjJ43YjGCqHhwKC-YPI8YP5A1NovsoG-HN4NhXJSXH2h1BVJDwPnHIBY8VZmQUrYqWuCoK5pQda9_Z06Q3gWycDJP6o/s1600/esmith+one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BsVVxNMvx7zLlp9C4iF07sF4rQc51WucVwducJOecyeoIildOjJ43YjGCqHhwKC-YPI8YP5A1NovsoG-HN4NhXJSXH2h1BVJDwPnHIBY8VZmQUrYqWuCoK5pQda9_Z06Q3gWycDJP6o/s200/esmith+one.jpg" width="130" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Knitting with nylon cording was... interesting. It was rough, and tough, and manly, and... wait... Knitting with nylon cording was... interesting! ;) And I think the experiment was successful: I have two orders for bracelets now! LOL!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><em>So, have you ever tried to knit with something different?</em> If so, what was it? I would love to hear some other ideas and see some pictures! Keep me on the edge; I'd like to try something new soon! e-</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DGJBYkday7STTYzPVrjNw5BhCJydTP71Sb0-pTeYM7clGutE0Z4dZHXcHxO0diHjyJdiYRDYsF-YNpIQu_-iBi6b3ppr8mJ0xLZ58P9a8P2w4HrVrUBV9fTR3fWFwRJC6pmzFnSi4Fg/s1600/esmith+three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DGJBYkday7STTYzPVrjNw5BhCJydTP71Sb0-pTeYM7clGutE0Z4dZHXcHxO0diHjyJdiYRDYsF-YNpIQu_-iBi6b3ppr8mJ0xLZ58P9a8P2w4HrVrUBV9fTR3fWFwRJC6pmzFnSi4Fg/s200/esmith+three.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Special thanks to Eric S. (again!) who modeled for these pictures. He was quite the trooper in modeling these and we ended with more pictures that I could ever post... maybe. </span>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-83827322905414112292010-06-30T21:34:00.000-04:002010-06-30T21:34:37.767-04:00June, June, June<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRskC-xCfQlcWrpyO4VixmQRH3rkgdUVAvdm0lgYgY_R0GZ_0HJx4E7SqccMydTQqHvAxbTjp8YbwP28VPBqWmMZuuX-Kngy2UGejr0QTkghCtlvM2L0bmQ54F_efZFV0Z_bbvvPHBFho/s1600/IMG_4050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRskC-xCfQlcWrpyO4VixmQRH3rkgdUVAvdm0lgYgY_R0GZ_0HJx4E7SqccMydTQqHvAxbTjp8YbwP28VPBqWmMZuuX-Kngy2UGejr0QTkghCtlvM2L0bmQ54F_efZFV0Z_bbvvPHBFho/s320/IMG_4050.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If you have never seen the YouTube video phenomenon of Leslie Uggams <em>butchering</em> (and I say that painfully because I love Miss Uggams back from her days in "Roots" - the ground-breaking mini-series!) "June Is Bustin' Out All Over" from <em>Carousel</em>, you SHOULD. Here, let me help you as this video is this post's foundation: </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mrma76T5Wa4"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mrma76T5Wa4</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Have you ever tried lace?! Well, I do to lace what Leslie Uggams did to "June Is Bustin' Out All Over" in that performance! Man! My hands with any fine yarn and small needles are not friends. Like Miss Uggams, most of my lace work often comes out a big ol' mess...</span><br />
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</span></div><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On parenting...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Recently, I was chatting with a fellow parent, a mom at my son's violin studio (Hi, J!) Together, we were commiserating on how difficult summers felt. Most often, they are crazily unstructured. We longed for the routines we had lost with the end of the school year... and how good these routines are not only for our kids, but for us, too. I suppose it's exactly what that Staples commercial celebrates in the fall: the return to the school year marks... the most wonderful time... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Summers, in essence, end up feeling a bit messy, like a bad piece of lacework (i.e., my attempts at it to say the least) or a bad rendition of "June is Bustin' Out All Over"! (Did you watch that video?!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To avoid this lack of structure and because this year my son whom I often call "P" rebelled against camp, we are trying something new. At first, it looks like a big ol' pile of activities - again, much like my attempts at lacework. But upon closer inspection while there appears to be no structure to our summer activities, I am learning from knitting - as I have learned from his Montessori education - that everything has structure, even our impromptu work. I love it. P has a series of small camps and a whole bunch of activities at home. The two of us are attacking every day and every week like a complex pattern: a stitch at a time. Similar to lace as well, our summer schedule (or our "pattern") seems to change every day/row, therefore, the two of us are trying to pay close attention to avoid having to unravel the work. He is doing great, and this "life knitting pattern" of our own seems to be working... I love spending time with him and watching him grow. Don't get me wrong; I'm still longing for the school year, but until then... What a treat!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As with other things, today, I am taking a page from life to inform my knitting, and I am taking a page from knitting to inform my journey through parenthood...</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On Adam, Eve, and their knitwear...</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Following the story, one day, Eve needed a hat...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lace. Lace. Lace. I'm not giving up on you, but I need to better understand how you function first! We must try and try again. Here we go...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><em>In the beginning...</em> Wait. Could I try something other than lace? My mom's shawl did not go well... Could I try something else? Hmmm.... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><em>In the beginning... </em>there was a man, some needles, and some beautiful yarn... some of his favorite. (Yes, let's start with some of my favorite yarn!) Using Berroco Ultra Alpaca - my "go to" yarn for beanies - I tackled the workings of lace. Yes, I know... I have heard it already... worsted weight lace is for chickens, but remember, my method was to better understand the workings of lace and how it can be just like any other project, right? (YIKES!) I wanted to create something simple, quick, inspired by the 1920's, and that allowed me to explore something<em> lace-like</em>. I wanted it to feel pretty, and I wanted it to feel girly. To that end, I felt like adding a little adornment: a rosette. After all, Eve was fussy about her looks as we learned later on during Sunday school... ;)</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlWj04lBg60PJu2J7QzI61FGMvlHi7HgkuwnfJxiNjy6Llld3M9rN8Ps13JSSlW1iHpY-nuwSVDtZjzzTlCM-HQQZgJDf_GU8OuSG-v45Irf1HzoTlPD9kl2NS-SK0H3Y6Gy3pLMaBks/s1600/IMG_4061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlWj04lBg60PJu2J7QzI61FGMvlHi7HgkuwnfJxiNjy6Llld3M9rN8Ps13JSSlW1iHpY-nuwSVDtZjzzTlCM-HQQZgJDf_GU8OuSG-v45Irf1HzoTlPD9kl2NS-SK0H3Y6Gy3pLMaBks/s200/IMG_4061.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFt2bHDvqj9xDTaflGAuTEkehSrZ5pagPtAql8X0AcjHfZMov3ovpNL6HN5txnkhdmTHkMzpDHmNtRuECu5TAFBaVX1ChjCDNUXcKMslH7pwvxdP4QJAW2nlrCvDa9JyibdRgTruVq44/s1600/IMG_4068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFt2bHDvqj9xDTaflGAuTEkehSrZ5pagPtAql8X0AcjHfZMov3ovpNL6HN5txnkhdmTHkMzpDHmNtRuECu5TAFBaVX1ChjCDNUXcKMslH7pwvxdP4QJAW2nlrCvDa9JyibdRgTruVq44/s200/IMG_4068.JPG" width="135" /></a></div></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The hat follows my quick recipe for a beanie incorporating yarnovers (YO) and knit-two-togethers (K2tog). It was pretty straight-forward until I tried to use my preferred crown shaping which gives my beanies a rounder top and a spiral decrease. Nothing was complicated; keeping track of the adjustmensts was a challenge - just like our summer schedule!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwUn8i01hpNyEvvRpTPJJOUVpYpoQSx3EUvCitXNIqcN5HtrSAKfhw_dtUM8k-P1p21W6s-dSe5nDNEg-9e0QpW49uSa_ohrz209yYMNcAV_xwzFTIdNL2stomPu5qpOq79wkXme__Cw/s1600/DSC00602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwUn8i01hpNyEvvRpTPJJOUVpYpoQSx3EUvCitXNIqcN5HtrSAKfhw_dtUM8k-P1p21W6s-dSe5nDNEg-9e0QpW49uSa_ohrz209yYMNcAV_xwzFTIdNL2stomPu5qpOq79wkXme__Cw/s200/DSC00602.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia;">For the adornment, I experimented with both dyed (pink and green - see left) and natural color yarn (see pictures above) creating a long I-Cord (18"), folding it in half, and wrapping it into a knot. Before doing so, I "opened" the I-Cord and continued knitting together one or two leaves (all in one piece) for dimension. I liked it so much that I thought of a million and one different uses for those rosettes: tied to a ribbon around the neck, as a lapelle pin, as a headband, as a hair clip, as button closure (which you'll see later), as a belt...</span><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Perhaps all of my women-friends (and some of my male friends) will be getting one this holiday season... perhaps... </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTGtTW9e8lB9ltkEqI6MoPouP11yth_ZfYyoocCgmz-ZYj2uocEiWJk7jdPlGCZSQZA2w1jXdh_GRVG3uOnxlojn1hLSPaHoYkOLUfKsmeSvMfJyHeB3MwppWruNRBttsOGo2fD8pa7w/s1600/IMG_4058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTGtTW9e8lB9ltkEqI6MoPouP11yth_ZfYyoocCgmz-ZYj2uocEiWJk7jdPlGCZSQZA2w1jXdh_GRVG3uOnxlojn1hLSPaHoYkOLUfKsmeSvMfJyHeB3MwppWruNRBttsOGo2fD8pa7w/s200/IMG_4058.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thank you for reading and sharing with me. And don't forget to feed the fishies! (Use your mouse to drop some food - by clicking - for them before you leave...) e-</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">PS A special thanks to my beautiful friend, Meg T., for modeling this hat - neither she nor Eve was a prude, and I think Meg is prettier than Eve was. Stay tuned for more...</span></div>;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5556992600587049598.post-62181744925177281902010-05-31T12:14:00.000-04:002010-05-31T12:14:27.751-04:00In the beginning...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2NHll_2cz3ncPkJJZ5YxyvHae9IQI5YhD-nZxMFxjjp32P6muXSrVqqs0BBCJ3TLX-9IQkJOr8d1YAi4eM6kJh6_l7WlMC9RcJyXoUO1IijSw6Ctzt_9g0gpaFE1wa03OUwAlnnO61E/s1600/IMG_2879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2NHll_2cz3ncPkJJZ5YxyvHae9IQI5YhD-nZxMFxjjp32P6muXSrVqqs0BBCJ3TLX-9IQkJOr8d1YAi4eM6kJh6_l7WlMC9RcJyXoUO1IijSw6Ctzt_9g0gpaFE1wa03OUwAlnnO61E/s320/IMG_2879.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br />
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Having been raised as a Catholic boy in Puerto Rico, these three little words ("In the beginning...") tend to evoke a lot of different feelings - most of them of a religious nature. Today, however, I have learned that life is whatever you make it out to be much more so than a prescription of what "anyone else" has for you. And beginnings can be so very beautiful, can't they?<br />
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<b>On getting started...</b><br />
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A little over two years ago, I cast on my first stitch. I remember that day vividly. I was celebrating with two dear friends, and I felt courageous enough to try something new. "Can you teach me how to knit?" I asked Todd. As loving and helpful as he always is, he answered, "Sure!" And so that journey began with a scarf I knit for my son, Pablo. This scarf ended up being twice his height in length and wide as wide can be. We called it his "Harry Potter" scarf even though it looked more like a blanket, but hey... it kept him warm on the slopes during our first ski trip together, and he still uses that scarf to ski.<br />
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Since that first scarf, I have ventured into a lot of different knitting projects: beanies, shawls, fingerless gloves, suffered a case of the "onesie" with a mitten, neck warmers, baby sweaters, more scarves, a toy lobster (!), and sweaters. Whew! With every project, I have learned something new - a stitch, how to read a pattern, how to design a pattern, how to make a mistake, and how to repair it, how to put positive energy into a garment, and how to stop when the energy is not right. But most importantly, I have learned to be patient as stitches, like our children, do not always respond in the way you expect them to.<br />
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I know, I know... there is so much more about child-rearing. And, I'll give you that. But, it is in knitting that I have found (and keep finding) my chi. It is in the trance of knitting that I often ponder on the problems I face in my workaday job, in my relationships with my family and friends, and in raising my son. I say that I knit to keep sane, but it is also in the trance of knitting that I find my inspiration.<br />
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<b>On other beginnings...</b><br />
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It was in one of those trances that I recently pondered on an idea... After seeing a beautiful Tanis Gray scarf pattern in Vogue Knitting (Winter, 2008/2009), I decided to alter it for myself and try my hand at another scarf a little too big and a little too long.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbT5kpvEyXAJaO8kYpzRX4Cex_CtVREQZ-7sJ7RyaaGuRqq_78q00akq8t9xSVzqcy566vqXrn1n-xaDcFDs3gWl2zsg0O0_IjFGNSHhvV56Ov0pgVlJCdAxxUJ3G4icUOwxN7gEBX9U/s1600/IMG_2899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbT5kpvEyXAJaO8kYpzRX4Cex_CtVREQZ-7sJ7RyaaGuRqq_78q00akq8t9xSVzqcy566vqXrn1n-xaDcFDs3gWl2zsg0O0_IjFGNSHhvV56Ov0pgVlJCdAxxUJ3G4icUOwxN7gEBX9U/s200/IMG_2899.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>As I was knitting the scarf, I started pondering on the idea of beginnings again. In the beginning... there was a man... (remember, I was raised as a Catholic boy in Puerto Rico...) there was a man... (and in true fashion, my thoughts went on a tangent...) there was a man... his name was Adam... and what if Adam had knitwear? Huh! What if Adam had knitwear?! What would this world be if Adam had knitwear?! I have always thought of us knitters as really kind-hearted people, so would Eve have been a bit more prudent and not had that apple? Would Cain and Abel have been nicer to each other because they all had knitwear?! Hmmm...<br />
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When I finished this 11' (yes, that's eleven feet) scarf - a foot and a half wide - I rejoiced at the idea that this beautiful scarf could do more than be a fashion accessory. It certainly was intended to keep me warm. And now, it had become a symbol of growth (both personal and professional). It was a reminder of the kind-hearted nature of us knitters, and how there is so much out there to explore, still! This scarf left me to ponder the idea of what this world would be if we had had knitwear... in the beginning. e-<br />
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PS A special thanks to my good friend, Eric S., for modeling this scarf and some other projects to come... if Adam and Eve had had knitwear. Stay tuned...;)e-http://www.blogger.com/profile/18081355700307369390noreply@blogger.com1