Complete

 Dun….

 Dun…
 Dun…


Dun-NA…

 

 buhm-buhm, buhm-buhm, buhm-buhm….


So happy that it’s done.  Of course it stills need to be washed and blocked and eventually frame for the holidays, but for now it’s complete!  I hate doing the backstitch detail on these and I’m rather proud that I pushed myself to get it done quickly instead of letting it sit almost completed for months.
The little devil on my shoulder wants to take it to work to show my co-worker who claims there’s no way you can craft with small children around (hence the x-stitch that’s been in her closet for 17 years) and say something akin to
“Bo-yah”.
Of course it’s on the next thing on the list – I’m about half done with my 2nd Hermione sock and plotting my next crafting spree.  Along with holiday knitting plans (it’s never too early right?) I’ve got another x-stitch for my parents 30th wedding anniversary to order and start, a pile of fabric that needs to become a quilt and a freezer of yarn that I really should do something about.

The Home Front

{Hardening off tomatoes, lettuces and few other things}

{Radishes, Carrots and Green Onions}

{Potatoes Popping Out}

{Future Pears}

{First of the Seasons Strawberries}

{Onions and Spinach}
*Rather proud of the straw.  My mother trimmed away last years decorative tall grass from a plot in her yard and I realized it was perfect for free straw, so far so good.*
and last, but not least a new use for a chest freezer.

I opened my “air tight” yarn box a few days ago to find a few alive wool moths, so everything is going in the deep freeze for a few days to hopefully kill anything leftover.  Luckily (I guess) a lot of my yarn right now isn’t 100% natural fibers (I prefer to give baby knitting that is easily washed and cared for) so I didn’t find too much damage.

The Magic Door

There’s a large tree in our back yard.  It twists and turns in fantastic ways.  As much as I want more sunlight for veggies in the yard, this tree has me captivated.  I look at it quite a lot from my kitchen and just yesterday I looked out at it and I swear there is something there that I’ve never seen before – a knot, dead center of the tree that looks like a doorknob and it beckons the “Lucy the Valiant” in me to reach out and see if it just might turn. 

Perhaps we could see Mr. Tumnus or have tea with a delightful chap in an over-sized hat or fly away to mermaid coves and Indian teepees or perhaps on day a little sign will appear “Here, there be dragons.”

Oh, the wonderful possibilities of a door in a tree.

It’s wonderful to have a little reminder of just how wonderfully magical the world can be.

The Mother and Alleluia

I have always considered myself a Christian, but I have to admit I’ve always had a rough time with feeling and experience the life of Christ the way others seem to.  I’ve never been moved to tears of joy or sorrow contemplating His life though I’ve been moved by His teachings.  It’s just not how I’ve experienced my faith and it’s just different, not bad in the same way that I’ve come to accept that I’ll never be canonized (though I think there should be a catch-all for committed, loving mothers who try their best) and I’ll probably never be visited by an angel or other such apparition.

But motherhood is starting to change that for me.

It’s strange that even on my road to Catholicism I’m wary of Mary – growing up Protestant makes me tread lightly on the subject and on any devotion to this woman, but now since becoming a mother it’s thinking of the life of Christ thru her eyes that allows me to feel tangible emotions when trying to reflect on Christs’ life.

I can understand the joy of bringing a baby into this world and being able to forget your troubles and your uncertain surroundings out of the joy that little body brings.

I can understand the worry when you’re out in public and suddenly that little one is out of your sight, just for a moment.

And on the most basic level, on the level of fear and the desire of never having to live through such a moment I can understand the sorrow of watching your only child give his life whether it’s as a young child who has no control over an illness or a grown man choosing to give himself completely for another.  I can understand that pain just a little better now.

It’s because I’m a mother now that I can understand why Easter is not to be celebrating as a funeral, but as a celebration because every mother can imagine the worst and every mother who’s lived thru that can only dream of the sheer joy of seeing that loved one again if only for a moment.  I can understand the joy so much more now because it is so real to me now.

I understand why we say “Alleluia” so often in Mass today, it is exactly what I would say over and over again if my little one I had lost was returned to me if only for a moment.