Yes I Did

Did you really do it?  Or is it just a picture?  No, I really did it. That is my wrist you are looking at.

Something that says what I can't always manage to say.  Something beautiful. Something I never would have dreamed that I would do.  Yet there it is along with the miracles and the Faith.  There is my one and only tattoo.
I am home. We are all presently in a safe harbour.  God is with us.
Anne

Packing For the Hospital

I started packing. There is only worrying and packing to do. I choose to pack.
I have my mother's bible ready. It is crammed with notes and papers.

Mom's Bible

There are passages marked in here that I know will be perfect when I need them.
Then I packed the project bags.
Hospital Knitting is different from any ordinary knitting.  I guess it is even more ordinary.  It is knitting that you just knit. The stitches you know and can rely on.  The ones that comfort you. 
I have an old friend in this bag.

Kathleen Taylor's wristers

 Wristersby Kathleen Taylor. They are the perfect wristers and so pretty made with bright self striping yarn. Kathleen writes a blog that I follow. She is a writer and fiber instructed her patterns are easy to follow.
In this bag I have Knitty wristers.  Knitty is always good. Like thousands of old and dear friends are stitting with you knitting along on their much beloved patterns.
This is my knitty project bag with some beautiful wool yarn a friend sent me last year.


Fall Berry By Knitty
 

this wrister has a pattern so it will be for the really good days. Since the yarn is white I will be able to see the pattern through my cataracts.  Yeah I'm hoping too.


Groups of Loops Cowl

by Dani Hodge

I have lush old Shetland Wool in this bag. For a simple cowl. I found this yarn at a thrift shop and I know it has waited years for this chance to be picked up and worked with.



Silver's Sock Class
 

Here is a bag of socks.  The endless socks. Not the colonoscopy socks those are a dead end... These are hopeful pretty blue stretchy socks  .... Hopeful I can find the original pattern. (and I did on ravelry)
Here is everything all lying out and ready for packng.

& yes the Xanax is packed.  A mother needs HER Mother's  bible, her knitting and her Xanax when her child is in the hospital. 
They all fit in the big red Donate Blood project bag

I have not donated blood lately, my H & H don't want to cooperate, neither does my blood pressure.  Maybe you will have the opportunity to donate.  It is so important.

I am ready and waiting for the call that says "yes YES" and then I will book my flight and leave for Boston.  It is just hours away. I am ready. I have been ready for years. 
I am praying for the donor family. I am praying for my family and for the Dr's hands and hearts.
I am relying on my angels above and my friends and family here on earth.  I am in God's hands and so is my son.
I am full of hope and Xanax. Please pray with me. God to guide us, God to Hold us. God to bring us Salvation.
Anne.

Waiting

Waiting ...  Merriam Webster
verb
to remain stationary in readiness or expectation
to look forward  expectantly
to hold back expectantly
to be ready and available
to remain temporarily neglected or unrealized

Wikipedia, Patience
Patience (or forbearing) is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

Waiting for a transplant...
be steadfast
have faith
be ready to be neglected or unrealized
be ready and remain expectant

Hope is a better
word.
Hope is faith
Hope is being available and expectant.
Faith is being ready even if what you hope for is unrealized. Faith is knowing God is always with you.
Hope is intangible
...it is the lifeline that you cannot see.

Hope is taking a leap of Faith

Introducing My New Grandson

Birth by appointment... C-section is really very nice to plan around.  Our little man entered the world right on schedule and both he and his mother are doing perfectly...
and here he is...

Brennan Cole

Brennan Cole entered our world on June 20th, 2012 weighing 6 lbs 11 oz and 20" long.  He has his mother's eyes, his father's mouth and his big sisters hair...he is exquisite in every way.  He was born on the 100th anniversary of my mother's birth. 
We are all in baby bliss... big sister loves his little toes...and secure in her parents love she is showing her love for her tiny baby brudda.

first day

Mya discovers baby toes

Big Sister Mya

Dad in total bliss with his boy in his arms

all knit and wrapped up!

Brennan may you be blessed as you have blessed us.  We thank you God for this tiny life intrusted to our care from your eternal love.

Baby Boys Do Have Cute Things

Daughter's baby shower was today.  I have been planning and preparing for several weeks. It has been a long time since I have given a party. Especially for this dear daughter.
It was lots of fun. The hardest part was packing the car full of shrimp salad, cupcakes, fondant hydrangea blossoms, ice, drinks, a hot crock pot... and not driving it all into a ditch.  I arrived with everything intact.

Cupcakes

The party was held in daughter's new home.  Setting up was lots of fun.

cute little elephants scattered around

The nursery and Mya's rooms are so cute!

Nursery

Mya's Big Sister Room

Baby gifts are just so much fun!

Proof that baby boy's things are cute too!

Adorable little outfits with Monkeys on them

It was a fun day and in just 4 short weeks the newest member of this growing family will make his appearance...we can't wait!
Anne    May 20 2012

  Jesus Loves the Little Children
Jesus calls the children dear,
“Come to me and never fear,
For I love the little children of the world;
I will take you by the hand,
Lead you to the better land,
For I love the little children of the world.”

Refrain

Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white,
All are precious in His sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world.

My Mother's Writing Her Story of Motherhood

How Do You Dust A Butterfly:
  by my mother
Barbara Arnold written about 1995

Dusting was not high on my priority list, but it had to be done occasionally.  When I was especially lax my husband would write the date on the slant top  mahogany desk.  Then I would go to work.  The children's rooms were a problem.  There were the unfinished automobile and plane models I wasn't supposed to touch, and piles of oddments I didn't want to touch I might put my hand on an attempt to cure a squirrel skin, or a very old sandwich with furry mold on it.  I was careful about clothing after I pulled three decomposed clams from Ross's blue jeans, the forgotten bait from fishing two weeks past.
    
I dusted the base boards, window sills, and arranged stuffed animals artistically, as in a home decorating magazine, then tackled the real challenge, the tops of furniture.  Here were the treasures which under no circumtances could be thrown away, not a single rusty nail, box top, marble or unstitched baseball.

The Scouts, bless them, and the schools all encouraged hobbies and edifying collections in shoe boxes, glass jars, mounted on cardboard, taped in scrap books which fell apart, and in heaps.  All attracted dust, especially Chip's car parts.  Have you ever considered dusting the greasy organs of a disembowelled automobile engine?  The trick is to put them in boxes with covers, a bigger box every week as the collection grows.  I must not forget he won a blue ribbon with his dismantled V8 engine, each part carefully identified and connected to a diagram with tape.

Then there were the live things, the fuzzy caterpillar living of course in a shoe box, the bowls of guppies which ate their children, and the baby racoons demanding to be fed every half hour with Anne's doll baby bottle.

No, our house would not have made the pages of  " House Beautiful".  Interesting, yes, but odd.  What decorator would put piles of rocks on the bureau, and cigar boxes of possible fools's gold and "could be" arrowheads teetering  on the bookcase:  Why were the books in tall stacks on the floor?  They were pressing leaves and wild flowers for, you guessed it, a nature collection.

Anne's room was usually booby-trapped with open paint boxes on the floor, jars of mixed and murky paint water, and damp paintings where I needed to step.  "Ginny dolls" and their accouterments occupied the level spaces, all of them, except where the stuffed animals and our live cat Cleopatra lounged.

I dediced to go with the flow on one occasion and posed the dolls interestingly
standing on their heads, peeking out of drawers, sitting precariously on the toilet, peering in the mirror, and so on.  That was fun but I had to stop to fix supper, and the dusting didn't get done.

Lullabelle, the Big Doll, seated in Anne's little rocker, presided sweetly over the chaos.  I had to be careful of her.  She was the Best Doll, so loved her arms and legs were prone to fall off.  She once had to go to the doll hospital and came home intact but with a new wig which took a long time to become accustomed to.  Today she sits on the sofa in Anne's living room, a presence in an antique dress.

My heart skipped a beat once at the sight of a fragile bird nest on Ross's desk, and one day, a butterfly.  After a few weeks I could blow the dust off the nest without disturbing its delicate construction, but how does one dust a butterfly?  It wasn't impaled on a pin, or part of a collection, just there as one would place a treasured bibelot, a wonder to be cherished.  It stopped me.  I was suddenly so glad I had a son who kept a butterfly on his desk.  In the high school, this oldest son Was on the wrestling team, but I had seen this butterfly!  At last the wings fell off, it disappeared, and I would look at the space where it had been.

Ross is gone from us now, but not before the special dust on a butterfly's wings touched us all forever.

Anne, the little mama of Lullabelle, the "Ginny"  dolls, and Cleopatra's descendents which cat-wise threatened to populate the earth, grew up to mother two adopted children along with her home made son,  sheltered a succession of black Labradors, and presently owns a mutt named " Otis Campbell", and a small dog creature that well looks to me, well, like a "dust kitty".  Her water colors now decorate her walls, crisp fragile renditions of fruits and flowers which I who was an art teacher wound not dare attempt.

Anne and her husband once provided dinner, bed, bath, and breakfast to a remarkable man passing through town on foot.  He was carrying a huge wooden cross, like Jesus.  It had a little wheel at the foot so he could drag it along the highway.  More recently she was a nurse and bus-mother to twenty teen-agers on a church mission to Mexico to build a house for a grateful little family in a barrio.  Twice lately when I have gone to visit her in another state there was a family or person in need housed in the guest room.  That is what she is like.

Younger son Chip, now middle aged, shares a house with me.. He has long since graduated from car parts, though that knowledge has been invaluable to us all these years.  He distinguished himself early by becoming the youngest graduate of Saab school and parts manager in the country.  He likes to hike in the woods and this spring brought home a beautiful perfect skin of a five foot long black snake, freshly discarded.  He draped it across the chest of drawers in his room, among the pictures and mementos of his children.    I found it a problem on cleaning day, so coiled it in a shallow box and stretched Saran over the top for viewing.  It is very handsome.  We can see how the emerging retile carefully peeled it off around the eyes and mouth, revealing an elegant new suit, never tearing even to the tip of the tail!  I feel good when I look at it.  I am old now and know I am in good hands.

I learned I didn't need to be so tidy, just wait a while and the hoards would be assigned to oblivion by their owners.  New sets of wonders would appear, and they really were wonders, the stuff and dreams of my children.  Dance programs, a victory sign cut from leather, another of metal welded in the school shop, posters, ballet slippers, a tiara, hockey pucks and the derby Ross wore exuberantly for sprin skiing, awards, diplomas follwed, and then they were gone, so soon it seemed that after all the dust had settled.

by Barbara C. Arnold


I miss you mom and I always will.  I think of  " how to dust a butterfly" often.  I remember the brother who first collected it every day.  I wonder at how my mother managed this balance in her life... this will to continue to search for beauty and the courage to cherish life and children with such passion even as they are taken from us and the dust settles.  Mothering is like taking off your clothes and walking naked when your tired and your feet hurt and your heart hurts you would take this walk for your child you would carry your child.  This is how God shows us to love one another.  Having faith to loose all you hold so dear and taking the walk carefully and with amazement past the butterfly, past the mementos and ahead into the every lasting love of God. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:


Happy Mother's day to the mothers I know, and the birth mother's I haven't met but who have taken that naked walk and intrusted their most precious gift with me.
Happy Mother's Day to my daughter's Amy and Biz and my dearest friends and my Sister's in law Gail and Debbie.  Bless you all.
Anne

Mom and Ross

Mom and Chip

Biz and Leo

Me, Mya, Amy

Mom and I her 90th birthday

Me and Lullabelle

Sweet Stuff

I can not wait to plop these into mounds of icing on cupcakes for my daughter's baby shower.

gum paste hydrangea flowers

 you can purchase them here:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/GumpasteGarden?ref=seller_info

Baby Showers in May

Planning a baby shower for the new little boy that will be arriving in June.
His due date is my mom's 100th birthday 6/20/12.  I am sure she has had a hand in that arrangement.  Thanks Mom your always watching over us.

goodies

 Haven't thrown a party in a long time...let's see if I can pull this off.  Having it at daughter's house!
Anne

Cadet Hat Topi

I don't look good in hats. This one is lots of fun to make though and yes I know I need to block it. My cataracts are lit up like high beams here.

Cadet Hat

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEspring06/PATTtopi.html
I  really made this hat with my daughter in law in mind. She looks great in hats and she likes brims that keep the snow and rain off her glasses.

Topi with buttons

Topi brim

I will make this again and use wool. This was Vanna's Choice. It came out to big. I had to run a round of crochet around the bottom edge to pull it in snug.  Next time... wool and go down to a size 6 needle. Or go up a needle...wool and felt it a bit....hmmmm....knitting is always all about the endless mire of possibilities !

Carte de Visite

little boy with his drum

darling little sisters

In the 1860's photography took a modern turn when small albumin print photos were made as cards to easily mail or pass out. Especially popular during the Civil War as they were easily mailed to loved ones.  Cardomania was born. 

Knitting and Reading

I love these little sepia cards. I have stacks to catalog and go through. Many are of my relatives and destined for my nieces, nephews and children to divvy them up.  And some of people long gone and unknown will go into Etsy to bring joy to others with cardomania and a love of ephemera. 

Anne 

A boy

Prayer                                                                                   
for a boy
praying
a moment
of wonder
and waiting


Prayer 
my boy
for time
a chance
praying.


relinquish the wish
to God.
breathe.


Anne 3/7/12

Family 2012

The last day of Christmas vacation...

we went to Myakka State Park Sarasota, FL

the bird walk over the grass and lake offered a safe place for toddlers to explore...

a place for a boy's curiosity to bloom...

a chance for Auntie to get one more armful of boy...

for cousins to climb...

 a moment for proud gramma to share the stage of life with her son and grand children...

for Momma Biz to put her back into it and have her heart and hands filled with the loveliest of children...
The house is quiet now.  Decorations are stored away for another year.  Gramma and Papa have had a couple of days to get back into their routine.  The memories begin. Where did two and a half weeks go so quickly?  I am already planning for when... for when we get together again.
God thank you for the joys of family and the many blessings in my life. 
Anne

Wee Lil Seoul's Very Bad Hair Day Part 1

Very bad hair day :)

Making this wee Lil Seoul for my grandaughter Mya. Her black hair reminds me of Mya's mommy's beautiful black hair and how much fun I had combing and playing with it when she was a little girl.  This will remind my daughter Amy of the time I cut her hair into a Mullet. Still an unforgivable offense.  
This doll was designed by 
weefolkart.com/content/knitted-round-12-baby-doll-part-1-knitting-body
  I love the simplicity of the pattern. In the style of Waldorf Dolls. I am knitting her body and clothes with stash yarn, but I splurged on a new skein on Paton's Classic Wool for her black hair. 
I am hopeful that I will be able to pull off an original design for her Hanbok. (traditional girls Korean dress).

                                                                    Yes she has a belly button :)


Grandma  
할머니 
Halmoni / Halmeoni 

Halmonie, halmoni and halmony are basically all the same. 
Ie - ee / 이 (ㅣ) 
i - ee / 이 (ㅣ) 
Y / ee / 이 (ㅣ) 

Y as in pony, harmony, etc. 

Where Do Babies Go to Dream

Where do babies go to dream?

Lashes dewy on their cheeks.
Sweet surrender slumber deep.
Where do babies go to dream?

Far away and past our shores spirits soar.
Beyond this world loves shared kiss
mingles there.
Where do babies go to dream?

Briefly hugged by those above.
Tender whispers go back, go back
wrapped in love.
Where do babies go to dream?

Breath's soft breeze
fingers furled, mouth and cheek
nursing seek.
Where do babies go to dream?

Sweet caress loves tenderness.
You're here with us and stay you must.
Where do babies go to dream?

Amidst our loved ones now unseen.
The kiss of God upon your face.
Where do babies go to dream?

Awake, awake from deep embrace.
Mother's breast upon your cheek.
Where do babies go to Dream?


Anne Pierce 1/30/2011