I Had A Dream

Queen of Beads
Originally uploaded by knithound

For the first time since my father died last year, I dreamt of him last night. He was sitting in his favorite recliner and we were talking. He had on a golf shirt with a breast pocket for his glass case. He had his glasses on and there was a martini (half gin, half vermouth) on the side table next to him. I remember hearing the sound of his voice and his lively, bright smile, but I do not remember what he was saying to me. I remember feeling very good about the conversation and very happy when it ended.

I don't know why he came to me last night. I wish I could figure it out. I gave blood on Saturday. His birthday (which is also the shop's birthday) was on Sunday. One of my students was recently diagnosed with cancer and I'm making her a wrap. Maybe each of those has a part of it.

But I do know that it has been one year and two months and I still cry when I think about him. I miss him terribly.

However, today, my new kit from Blue Moon Fiber Arts arrived -- the March Socks that Rock kit. Maybe opening some new sock yarn will make me feel better. I'm not sure.

Here's a quick pic of the January sock - Queen of Beads. I'm very pleased that I finished them before the next sock arrived.

The Power of Facebook

Last month, after a call from a reporter doing a story on technology, I decided to join Facebook.  Instantly, I found a whole boatload of people I went to high school with.  (OK, it's not that hard, there were 585 people in my HS graduating class).  

But, I was able to connect with some friends who I see regularly now.  So last Tuesday morning I go to post a birthday wish on a friend's wall.  I see a note from her brother, saying, for updates on Martha go to . . . a blog he had set up.

Turns out over the holiday weekend she became severely ill and was in a medically induced coma on life support.  She came close to death a few times.  She is a mother of four -- two are the same age as mine and friends at school.  She and I practiced law together.  

By the power of Facebook, and yelling out the window at car line, I was able to spread the word.  By 8:30 Tuesday evening, a month's worth of meals had been organized for the family.  Emails blasted through.

Now, on Sunday, a week after she was admitted to the hospital, she is off the ventilator and regaining consciousness.   More than 10,000 hits have been counted on her blog set up by her brother with updates.  More than 250 comments have been left for her on a special comments site.

This couldn't have happened five years ago -- it may have been more than a week before anyone found out about her illness.  

Too often, Facebook is used for stupid stuff -- what we had for lunch, etc.  But sometimes, it's value cannot be measured.

Continue to recover, Martha!  We'll keep praying. 

Too Tired to Say Anthing

Except that the Girl Scout troop has sold about 1250 boxes of cookies, that the store has been nuts, that I'm doing my first crochet birthday party this weekend for 10 10-year-old girls and I haven't had time to do much of anything.

Oh, did I mention the mini blanket for the baby doll that needed to be knit to hold the 100 pieces of yarn for the 100th day of kindergarten?

I'm tired.

It's Been A Year

It's been a year and a day.  Dad died on January 28, 2008.  I miss him every day.  It still hurts.  Somehow, I thought it would get better.  I know in time it will, but there hasn't been enough time yet.  The photo above was taken on the annual trek to Florida in Spring 2007 with the kids.  It was done on Easter Sunday.

I find myself crying at odd things -- when Amazing Grace is played at church.  When I see an older man who looks like him -- baseball cap covering the mostly bald head with a big smile for passing children.  

In the snow and rain we drove to the cemetery in North Jersey yesterday.  In the rain, I stood and cried.  I really didn't want to bring the kids with me, but there was no school due to the weather.  We all stood and cried.  Loving hubby took the kids back to the car so I could have some time alone with Dad.  

We headed home and to have a Mass for dad at church.  Except the Rector forgot.  Ok, I'm human too, but I'm very angry.  I know that I should get angry at anyone, especially clergy, but I'm really ticked off.  I might get past it, but I don't know.  I haven't been this angry since I stopped practicing law full time.  

The hurt is deep.  I miss him terribly.  I love you, Dad.

Belated Happy Birthday to Daughter No. 2

I am remiss.  Last Thursday was Daughter 2's sixth birthday and I did not post her birthday wishes.  I guess I knew I could buy myself some time because she does not yet read.  But what could make a mom more happy than her six year old being super excited about getting a ball of worsted weight yarn and size eight needles.

She wants to learn to knit.  I'm having one of the teachers at the shop work with her.  In my view, it's one of those things you don't teach your own kids -- like driving.  Too dangerous.

Happy Birthday Pumpkin!  I'm proud of you.

They Stole Our Tree

This is not the tree we took home.  This is the one we picked out that someone else, after removing all identifying markings, cut down and took home.  I hope if falls on the head of someone in their house -- I have very little Christmas spirit about this.  

OK.  The Sunday after Thanksgiving we pile everyone in the car and drive about 45 minutes to go to a family-owned Christmas Tree farm near home.  Have been going there almost 20 years.  Love the place.  Love the people.  Follow the instructions for tagging our tree.  Put multiple white ribbons and a sold tag on the tree with our name.

Sunday, pile everyone in the car to go cut down and bring the tree home.  Can't find the tree.  Check the photo we took on the cellphone.  Still can't find the tree.  Come to the grim realization that some idiot took our tags off the tree, cut it down and took it home.

The folks at the farm were very apologetic.  Had any of the tags been left on, they never would have sold the tree.  But someone was sneaky.  Someone who deserves a lump of coal in their stocking.  

What kind of person cuts down another's tree at Christmas?  I'm not happy.  I'm not having a Christian attitude and have wished that many bad things happen to these people.  Next year, we'll just cut it down on the spot and take it home.   

Christmas Crazies

OK.  It's that time of year.  You know the time, when you don't have a moment to breathe.  Yet, this year, that seems OK.  I've kind of been dreading this Christmas, what with my dad dying this year.  

So, here we are, off to the races.  Thursday, the giving tree gifts are due at school.  Got the shopping done, now have to wrap.  (That means finding Christmas wrapping paper at home.)  Saturday - husband's holiday party for his company -- two hour drive each way.  Fun.  Still need to find something to wear.  Sunday, pick up Christmas Tree. (Need to find boxes with lights and decorations).  

Before next Wednesday, need to get older daughter black pants and shirt for holiday concert.  Need to go to holiday recital for both girls for piano.  Need to figure out what I'm cooking for Christmas dinner.  Need to do Christmas cards.  Need to buy gifts.

The busyness of it all would normally make me crazy, but this year not so much.  I miss my dad so much.  He loved this time of year and it will be very hard not to have him with us -- singing loudly and off key at Christmas eve services.  But being busy keeps me from crying.  

Well, no time to blog-- must do something Christmas related!