Off the hook

I often wonder just what my kids will remember from their childhoods. They already remember so much more than I think they do or think they should and from a much younger age. But where things like the 7 years carting 3 overlapping children back and forth from preschool made quite the indelible impression in my mind, I find that my kids hardly remember those days. It makes me wonder if our focus was at times misplaced.

But it's these lazy afternoons in the middle of the week when Daddy takes the afternoon off, takes them fishing and they catch us a fresh fish dinner from a nearby pond that I know they will remember for some time to come.

He has their full attention. They learn how to bait a hook, cast a line and how to hold a wriggling, wet, slimy fish and even take it off the hook.

They recount these experiences to anyone who will listen, including their entire classes respectively. But preschool is nothing more than a fading memory, or something like a dream where they're not really sure if it happened at all.

Make my day

I usually take away from work more than I expect to receive. Such was the case the other day when after just meeting a man and starting to work together I knew it would be a special hour. The man happens to be blind.

patient: "How many children do you have?"

me: "How do you know I have kids?"

patient: "I can tell you're a mother. I knew it right away."

me: "I take that as a compliment, you know."

patient: "I meant it as one."

me: "Thank you. *gush* Well, I have three, there's......


So, I send yet another happy birthday wish to the man without whom we wouldn't have our amazing, perfect three.

The art of getting away

Even if it takes ten months when it should only take ten minutes, plan it anyway. And if you meant to go in time to see Fall in full color but know you've missed your window, go anyway.

Because I know you'll find something beautiful that you've missed.

And that has missed you. It's been waiting for you to come back.







This time only better, together.

She Knits, camps

Don't for one minute think that when we go camping I'm cooking homemade blueberry scones with freshly picked berries over an open fire, or grilling steaks and cranking the old-fashioned ice cream maker to whip up some dessert afterward because that would just be wrong. But if you think that our camping trips bring relaxation,

the chance to dive into books,

the ever-important hula hooping,

and games of catch,


you'd be right.

You'd also be right to assume that the boat is a necessary guest and the highlight of the trip for some.



And for the rest of us the scenery,



and water alone,

are enough to do the trick.

Inside looking out

I've been remiss in posting lately, I know, but our time has been swallowed up with the kids starting school, me working at the hospital a bit more and this little thing called an addition. If it was just one room in and of itself it might not have such a big impact on our living space, but as it is (and I'm so happy with the way it is) it affects every space on the front of the house as you can see.

We're missing some walls,

we have some new windows,

and some major feats of framing and engineering have been accomplished, a.k.a. sawing the wall in half that holds up the second floor and putting a beam in so we can be wall-less in this section of the house that will become our new bedroom. I don't know how he does it without the house falling down, but by now I just know he can and that's probably all I need to know.

I can now stand in what will soon become my office and dream about how it will be laid out and what kind of storage I'll need. Kevin says he'll make me some built-in cabinets/shelves/whatever, I just need to tell him what I want. He's also informed me that he's going to be tired after this addition's all done, tired, "for like TWO YEARS" he says.

From the looks of it

The view out our front door will reveal that it'd be an uncomfortable first step if you happened not to notice that there's something missing, the front porch, that is. You may remember it was torn off the house some time ago to make way for an addition. Not a big, sprawling addition, but rather one that adds just enough space to make things a bit more comfortable and livable inside.

To be as brief as possible, I'll just say that this will allow each of our kids to have their own room and share 1 bathroom upstairs, Kevin and I will move downstairs and have our own bathroom, the foyer will be extended to make a place for the piano and there will be a new home office/She Knits headquarters and we'll be down to one living room instead of two.

Dodging the torrential rain from tropical storm Bill, the floor joists went on today and a concrete footing was added around an existing brick pier to support the current house better. It is old and apparently they didn't see the need for minor things like, say, a foundation way back when.

It's here that I must again hand it to the resident jack-of-all-trades, handyman, builder extraordinaire, hardworking machine that is my husband who just today, with his rain soaked hair standing on end (and he has a head full of it) like Billy Idol, had a coming to terms with himself about the benefits or lack thereof of doing all the work himself. It is a dilemma of epic proportions that I'm afraid he must struggle with internally. Will he continue to be a do-it-yourself-er or will one day he become a pay-someone-to-do-it-for-you-er? I think we already have our answer.

But in the meantime while he soul searches, let's just have a little look at his boots, shall we?

Can you see what I see?

It must be the mud in part that's getting to him, or maybe it's the grunt work. Neither of which are much fun.

And in response to the comments and emails from friends wondering how or why I seemed to have had a job and lost it, let me just say that I didn't explain myself very well. The job is still there, it's just that I'm one of the expendible folks who isn't full time and can either be scheduled last minute or cancelled last minute based on the sometimes vast fluctuation in patient census.

So, this time of the year like every year (I should know by now), many doctors schedule vacations not surgeries and there aren't as many folks in the hospital. The end result is I have some unplanned free time on my hands which at first bummed me out and set the chain reaction in motion of slight panic, which led to irritation, which led to imagination, and then mild elation. Let's just say I'm over it. And as I said in my last post, things can, will and do change on on a dime. In a month or two the hospitals will be overflowing and I'll be wishing for these days again. It's that whole grass-is-greener thing.

Signs of work

The addition progresses,

the red clay permeates,

someone knows what they're doing (and it's not me),


we have an almost completed foundation to prove it.

The bees are working too,

and there's a busy one in the house, this happens to be my 400th post.

Addition progress

We have a footing, that's the thing the foundation sits on for the construction illiterate like I was not too many years ago. Digging and putting one in is quite a bit more work than one would expect. Both physical and mental work with lots of measuring, leveling, looking at elevations, etc. Thankfully all of that is out of my hands and in some very good ones.

Progress in motion.

The men were digging and getting ready, lucky for Kevin and I he has some extra helping hands to employ, especially when the red clay's as hard as concrete.

Enter "Mr. Old Timer in the Conrete Truck",

and, TADA! We have a footing. A bit anticlimactic I know, but it's important as I'm told. Very important to get it right. But it doesn't look like much, does it?

Now if the house were level we'd be getting somewhere fast, but after 80 years what can you expect?

This is so wrong

So I was just sitting here on the computer minding my own business when I hear this little snickering behind me and I turn around to see that Kevin has brought the entire wheelbarrow full of firewood in the room. And then the full on giggling starts when he sees that I see what he's doing. "I'm really tired, man!" is his only explanation. The rest of the unloading took place on the porch where it usually does.

And then I see this:

Should I be worried that the 13 year old cat allows herself to be covered up in the kids' blankets while wearing a Mr. Potato Head hat? We're losin' it around here, Spring can't come soon enough!

Waiting

This new boot/planter, a Christmas present from my in-laws (isn't it cute?) is waiting.
This old washtub/converted planter is waiting,

and I am waiting, waiting, waiting for Spring! It's always at this time of the year where I'm so tired of winter and I just can't wait for the weather to change and Spring to arrive. It's also the time of year where I'll tell you over and over until you get sick of me how much I'm in love with our woodstove and how it's the one thing I look forward to in January and February. Of course it was snowing this morning, just a tiny little Virginia flurry, and I'll admit I do love the snow and I really like to ski, but I'd much rather be hot than cold. I have a very long time to wait, I know.

Certainly I'm not the only one who feels this way, part of the reason I'm thinking Spring is there are reminders everywhere. First of all, every store I pass has shorts in them already, swimsuits come in the bombardment of catalogs that seem to hit the house daily, a friend and I started talking about a Spring "show" and I just got the application for the farmers market this summer. I can't wait for market season!

So, I'm thinking about my display and how it needs, no, how it HAS to have a serious upgrade this year. I bought a couple of old shutters with the idea of hanging sweaters from them at the entrance of my tent and then some for the tabletop to hang necklaces on. Here's a pretty blue one:

I brought them home and said excitedly to Kevin, "honey, look at the cute shutters I bought for my booth at the market!"

"Why'd you buy them? I have about 20 of them out in the shop" he said.

silence.

That's always the case, I should know by now. He always has 20 of something out in the shop, or 500 or 8,000, whatever. His probably aren't a pretty blue.

And while we're on the subject of Kevin, you've probably noticed my camera was somehow found. It came back with a few more dents than it had when I last saw it (he has a nasty habit of dropping it frequently, it's a wonder it still functions). There was no big "ta da" when it was located, it just suddenly appeared on my desk. I didn't ask questions nor do I need to know the details of where it was or how narrowly it escaped being lost, I'm just glad it's back.

Which brings me to my next thought. There's one more thing that's waiting and it's little Miss Sunny Sunshine who is perpetually waiting for her next walk or game of fetch or romp in the yard, any of the above will do. I caught her gnawing on my rosebush this morning the little stinker. Thorns? What thorns? I have a feeling my flower garden out back is in for some serious destruction this year.

Yes, the back doors are waiting too for someone to Windex the puppy smudges off them. Goodness.