A Transit Story

Perfect weather for the Winter carnival, I suppose.  It’s snowing here again.  We’re expecting six inches by the time it’s over.

When that happens, I take the bus to work.  No stress of slipping and sliding, or tailgaters in a hurry.  I walk across the street from my house, hop (ok, I don’t really hop) on the bus and pull out my knitting.  When I get into town, I have to transfer to a second bus that will pass close to the college.  While I wait for the second bus, I chat with my mother on the phone.  Makes for a relaxed commute.

This morning, a gentleman got on the bus and told the driver that he needed to sit down while he looked for his bus pass.  we all do that sometimes, when we can’t pull it out in time.  The guy sat down, and eventually stood back up and told the driver that he couldn’t find his pass.  He told the driver he would get out at the next stop.

That’s the policy if one cannot pay the fare.  The gentleman knew that and complied before he had to be told.  But the driver asked him where he was going and what he was going to do if he got off.  The gentleman said that he would walk.  he further explained that he would have to forego his second bus because he would have no transfer ticket from the first bus.  He wasn’t complaining, loud, or rude.

All the while this subdued conversation was taking place, the driver was calling out the names of the streets as he passed.  Drivers do that to give the passengers info on where they are in transit.

The bus driver quietly handed the gentleman a transfer and told him he could stay on the bus.  He didn’t lecture him about the fare or trying to cheat.  Then he called ou the name of the next street.

Know what the name of the street was?  Hope.

Perfect, eh?

It’s snowing like crazy here.  The gentleman would have had a crappy walk to work: slippery and cold.  I love it when human kindness works so quietly.

Ice Castles and Palaces

The Winter Carnival continues . . .

Just for fun I thought I would post a few photos of the Ice Castles/Palaces we’ve had over the years.

We held our first Winter Carnival in 1886.  Below is a photo of the ice castle that year.

There was an ice castle the very next year, in 1887.

The photo below is of the 1988 castle and is on an old postcard.

 

The photo below is of the 1917 ice castle.

The ice castle in the photo below was from 1941.

The ice castle in the photo below was built for the 100th anniversary of the Winter Carnival – 1987.  I lived close to the park where that one was built.

The castle in the photo below was from 1992. 

The castle in the photo below was built for the 2004 Winter Carnival.  This is a day time photo and the castle was built  on one end of the downtown area.  A renovation of that particular block had left it vacant at just the right time for the castle.  It’s a transit hub now, so no more ice castles there.

 

The photo below shows the 2004 ice castle closer to sunset.  I loved this location because I could slide down the hill from where I work, grab a winter carnival lunch, and then hike back up the hill in time for my afternoon schedule.  The vantage point of the photo is actully looking up the hill.  Sliding down was more fun than the hike back up . . . .

 

F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote a short story called “The Ice Palace.” Click the link to read it online.  Want to guess where he got is idea?  He used to live here!

Must go find my Winter Carnival Muff.  I designed it and knit it quite a while ago – for watching the Winter Carnival parades.  It’s a rather frivolous accessory these days, but I pull it out and use it once a year . . . . because I can, I suppose.

 

Winter Carnival

It’s time for the Saint Paul Winter Carnival.  Goodnight and I got up and out of the house early enough for a Saturday morning.  We headed into town to have look at the 125 foot wall of ice.  We’re celebrating the 125th anniversary of the Winter Carnival. so that’s the reason for the 125 foot wall of ice.

Lovely to look at, too big to hold.

Put on your mittens, cuz honey,  it’s cold!

The Ice Wall showcases a collection of old photos from past Winter Carnivals.  It’s stunningly beautiful.  The ice is clear and has a delicate look to it.

There are snowflakes atop the Ice wall, as well as “125 YEARS” to remind us of how long we’ve been playing outdoors – officially.

After we checked out the Ice Wall and ice sculptures, we headed to the state fairgrounds to see how the snow sculptures were coming along.  They are mostly still in progress, as the work continues today.  But there was plenty to see and do.

The photo below shows one of the snow sculptures in progress.  Looks like two human figures and a wall . . . but it’s not nearly done yet.  I’m curious about what the final product will look like.

There was a snow maze with a castle-like entrance. 

Goodnight found a $5 bill in her first walk-through of the maze.  She was cheery about that!  Then she walked through again with me after I took photos.

It was great to get outside!  I love winter as a season – but it loses its charm when it’s so cold that my bones hurt, or when I’m busy shoveling.  The Winter Carnival helps bring back the charm of the season for me.

Back at home, however, I’m snuggled up under my “Leftover Shawl”.  I had yarn leftover from the Coffee Break Wristers I knit last week, and wanted to use the rest of the yarn.  I rescued the yarn from a thrift shop for under a dollar and it was a full 10-ounce skein.  I never pass that kind of thing up! 

My Leftover Shawl is just a K2, P2 triangle with corner-up shaping.  I used #11 (US) straight needles and it worked up quickly.  I increased two stitches at each on every other row, until I ran nearly out of yarn. 

I bound off the edge and turned the front corners back on themselves to make little pockets.  I made Twisted Cord ties to close the front of the shawl.  It’s not HUGE shawl.  It’s just enough to cover my shoulders and upper arms for that snuggly feeling.  The K2, P2 ribbing makes it nicely stretchy!  I’ll be tossing this one in my bag for work on Monday.

Baby’s Breath, A Rose, the Long Walk, and Officer Friendly’s Turtleneck . . .

I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that the anniversary of Officer Friendly’s death comes just days before the anniversary of Angel’s birth.  On the one hand, we get slammed with an overload of emotions in such a short time.  On the other hand, we get a lot of ‘reflection’ out of the way in a short period of time.  It is what it is – and I’m just grateful I didn’t have to listen to “Taps” at a national cemetery on the day when my heart called me to a different cemetery.  Yikes, eh?

Goodnight’s heart knows it’s time long before her head does.  It surfaces as an unease that turns to misbehavior.  The moment that happens, I call her to me, hold her close and remind her that she’s not really uncharacteristically naughty, but that her heart is looking for a way to express its loss.  I remind her that we’ll go out to dinner and celebrate her mother’s life because without having had her on this earth, Goodnight would not be here either.  I can feel the wave of relief that runs through her body when she realizes what time of year it is and she can name what was gnawing at her unconsciously.

Then the graceful behavior comes . . . grief has its own beauty, I believe.  She asks me where we will go out to eat.  She asks me if she can wear one of ”mama’s’ necklaces.  Then she goes to her room for a while – to put the necklace on and stare in the mirror, I think.  Looking for her mother, but hopefully finding it in the features that were passed on to her.  I hope she sees the differences as good too, and not defiance of any sort.   Through it all, I have come to a deep appreciation of what any human soul must endure and an absolute awe and respect of what can come from so much pain . . . . not only hers or mine . . . . but anyone’s.  I think her wisdom comes from that place.  So does her kindness.

So what has all this to do with the title of my post?

The other half of the Goodnightgram equation is the Gram.  I ponder things in my heart and decide to keep on . . . breathing.  I make my visit to the cemetery in private.  I take Baby’s Breath – because I was there for her first, and her last.  I also take a rose in honor of that little ‘bud’ she left behind because it reminds me of my promise to raise that bud to full bloom.

The long walk isn’t long in distance – it’s long in emotion.  As I approach Ange’s niche, the emotion is for what I lost.  As I leave, the emotion is for all the work I have left to do.  The pain passes and I just . . .  breathe.

We do that, don’t we?  We keep breathing.  I think I exhale some more of the pain each time, and then breathe in fresh courage to go on.

At the end of these days, I dig into the closet where I’ve kept two of Officer Friendly’s turtleneck shirts.  I bought them for him – because I was cold, I think.  He was over a foot taller than me and a very large guy.  His shirts are not my size, but I’ve kept them anyway.  I slip my favorite one on and crawl into bed – remembering him, and Angel and “Taps”, and cancer, and the tri-corner flag they hand to a widow, or the empty squad car that parked outside OF’s memorial reception, with the doors open and the lights flashing their silent reminder that an officer is down.  It feels like madness to handle it all in less than a week – to know the difference between the precipice of grief and the valley of despair in which we have to make our lives new again.

But . . . we do go on.  We tuck the turtlenecks away for another time.  We tells happy stories about OF and Angel over dinner out, we find ways to be who were with them, even though they don’t walk beside us any longer.  And then we . . . keep breathing.

Goodnight will have more sleepovers and I will forget for a while that I don’t much like being a widow and will design another outrageously fun Super Scarf.  For these few moments in time, however, we have turned intensely inward.

At the end of it all, I find myself walking a little taller, and stepping a little lighter for the struggle.  We are nearly at the walking taller and stepping lighter part . . . . .

Wisdom from the back seat

Goodnight and I ran some errands yesterday afternoon.  She still sits in the back seat of my car because she’s not five feet tall, yet and the standard to be safe with a passenger side airbag is five feet.

As we were heading out, we went through  get our usual questions “What was the best part of your day?”  Who did you eat lunch with?”  I like to hear about her world from her perspective and I want to make sure she isn’t eating her lunch alone.  She’s not, but I want to make sure that lunch is pleasant.  I know I look forward to my lunch break and I’m sure she does too.

When she finishes describing her day, she turns it on me and asks similar questions.  My days are pretty good.  I love my job and try not to bring work home with me.  But we have a new parking system at the college that is incensing most of the staff and students and it’s only just begun.  I have a slow fuse, but have been walking into work with a little ‘steam’ coming out from around my collar, if you get my drift.  So . . . . in an answer to Goodnight’s questions, I started talking about ‘tomorrow’ at some point.  I wasn’t ranting, just speaking, but Goodnight is very intuitive.

“Oh Gram, don’t start tomorrow before you have to.”

What a great phrase!  What great advice!

“Gram? Want me to go get the car?”

She’s a pixie - that granddaughter of mine.

It was cold here all weekend and it found its way into my bones, I think.  I found it hard to get warm.

Despite the temperature, we went to church and on our way out after the service, Goodnight asked me the question that was the title of my post, “Gram?  Do you want me to go get the car?  So you can stay warm?”

I said no, of course, but I got a little tug on my heart, nonetheless.  She’s growing up.  But perhaps I should stop letting her ‘drive’.

 

 

Coffee Break Wristers

When I get cold . . . . I’m open to almost anything to keep me warm . . . particularly if it involves knitting.  One thing that I like to wear is wristers.  It’s amazing how much warmth a knit wrist band can add.

It occurred to me that my wristers could be a tad more frivolous (and useful) than those I’ve already knit.  So, yesterday I decided to give it a try.

I knit wristers with pockets in them!  The wristers look like cuffs on a very warm sweater and the pockets are just the right size for tucking some coffee money inside . . . or the little hand warmers that I use frequently at work.

I call them my Coffee Break Wristers©. . . just a simple 2×2 rib with and inset pocket.  I like the ribbing because it draws the wrister close to the wrist.  The money sticks out of the pocket only for the photo.  The pockets are deep enough to tuck the money all the way inside.  They are amazingly warm!  There is a button closure, but it’s hidden behind the paper bill in the photo.

 

That’s about it for my thrilling weekend.  It was pretty cold outside: double digits below zero F.  I spent much of the weekend here, under the blanket with my nose in the book.  Officer Friendly won that blanket at a church festival raffle we went to the first year we were married – so I cuddled up in fond memories while I read.

To make the Coffee Break Wristers©:

(Make two)

Worsted weight yarn

#5 (US) double-pointed needles. 

CO 40 stitches.

K2, P2 for 18 rounds.

On next round, BO 14 stitches for insert pocket, continue in established ribbing to end of round.

On next round, CO 14stitches in ribbing pattern, contiue in established ribbing to end of round.

K2, P2, for five more round. 

BO in ribbing.

Turn wrister inside-out.

At the edge where you CO, pick up 14 stitches and follow ribbing pattern for 16 rows.

BO in ribbing.

Cut yarn.

Sew pocket to inside of wrister.

Weave in all ends.

If you don’t know how to do inset pockets, then just CO 40, and then K2, P2 ribbing for 25 rounds, BO in ribbing.  Then make a patch pocket in the ribbing and then sew it on, matching the ribs.

Tuck some cash in the pocket and take yourself out for coffee!

Happy Knitting!

It’s so cold . . . . .

When the temperature gets to -20 F., what is there possibly left to do outdoors?

Well . . . there’s always the old ‘throw boiling water into the air and watch it vaporize instantly’  pastime.  It’s good for a moment of fun and scaring the heck out of a kid as a warning about what could happen if they don’t dress for the weather.

So at 6:00 this morning, that’s what we did.  I let Goodnight run the camera.

It the first photo, you can see the steam from the water – fresh off the stove.

When the water hits such a cold temperature, it instantly vaporizes.  The photos below show the vapor cloud as it spreads.

For even more fun, you can color the water . . . . . (or stay in the house and try to forget it’s -20F.)

We did this twice this morning – two pots of water.  ‘Nuf o’ that winter fun for me.  No Goodnights were hurt in the boiling water toss.  And I didn’t wake her up fo this much fun . . . she was already awake.

I wonder what ‘Angel’ would say. . .

It must get as old and boring for the children as it does for the people who have to keep telling them to tidy up their bedrooms.  I don’t expect perfection – but I expect a safe walking path, no fire hazards, and no blocked heating ducts.  That’s reasonable, I think.

It was that time again – just a gentle reminder.  I sent Goodnight to her room to pick things up.  I usually tell her I will inspect before she gets to move on to something she’d rather do.  My inspections vary.  Sunday afternoon, I’m less flexible because I want it tidy and ready for a busy week.  During the week, however, I’m happy if the bed is cleared and her clothes are in the hamper.

I decided to make it a little more fun for Goodnight this time.  I sent her upstairs with my camcorder to film her room.  It’s not that I couldn’t put my knitting down and go up there myself . . . . (if I had to . . ), but I thought the twist would make it seem less evil or something.

I could hear her giggling as she walked around her room.  She was surprisingly thorough with her filming.  She didn’t hide the parts that she knew I wouldn’t let fly.  But at least she thought it was fun.

I’ve already mentioned that she is very good at being 13, and it’s been interesting so far, so here’s what her room looked like after the first clean and sweep.  Sorry the photos are a tad blurry.  She told me that she thought if they were blurry, I might  not notice so much . . .

When she came downstairs with the camcorder, we plugged it into the TV and watched together.  She just giggled.  She wanted to watch it a couple of times.  I pointed out what I thought were GLARING omissions in her work and set her back for another stab at the hands-on application of the word ‘tidy.’

When she came down the second time, we had another look:

 

The stuff on the floor in the first photo was all picked up and the bed was made.  MUCH BETTER.

She ended her video production with something special that she added to her door:

When the footage ended with the above scene, she turned to me and asked, “Get the hint, Gram?”

I did.  ‘Nuf cleaning for the evening.  I wonder if her mother would approve.  I know she would smile.

“Host City Magic” – Super Scarf #24

Time for another Super Scarf for the Indianapolis Super Bowl in 2012.  I just checked the site this morning and they have collected nearly 2400 scarves.  We have a way to go to reach 8000.

I’m rather fond of the Illusion/Shadow style of knitting and decided to design another scarf using that technique.  It just makes me smile to see the images appear, I guess.  And yet, they are disguised as stripes . . . . . it’s like playing for me.

Anyway . . . for this scarf, I was thinking about Indianapolis and all the work that has to go on behind the scenes in order to prepare for the Super Bowl.   I thought I would give the host city a huge ‘shout out’ via my yarn. 

In the photo below, you have to read it from the top down . . . but it says “INDY   XLVI.”  I decided to use this message because the first and last character was the ‘I’ and it makes it look somewhat symmetrical – at least on the ends.  The eight characters made the scarf a tad longer than some I’ve done, but still within the accepted dimension limits set by the Host Committee.  The letters in the foreground look larger than those at the top of the scarf, however they all have the same width and height dimensions.

 

Here’s  the scarf a look at the scarf from a 90-degree viewing angle – showing the stripes that make up the magic. 

I guess we can’t judge a scarf by its stripes, eh?  At least not until we see what magic unfolds when the viewing angle changes.

I knit the scarf with some yarnovers at each end, which provide equally spaced holes for the fringe.

So . . . . Indy . . . . here’s a shout out to you fresh off my needles.  Thanks to everyone who is playing a role in the preparation for Super Bowl 46.  Hang in there!

I’ll be posting the pattern here when I get the opportunity to finish typing it.

 

Happy knitting!