Magic Water – Super Scarf #34

I have completed another Super Scarf for the Indianapolis Super Bowl.  For my 34th design, I decided to pay tribute to one of the Community Initiatives that were established by the Indianapolis Host Committee:  1st and Green.

You can click on the link to read the interesting environmental details of the 1st and Green initiative, but for this Super Scarf, I wanted to focus on water:  H₂O. 

My Magic Water Super Scarf is an Illusion/Shadow design.  The photo below was taken at an obtuse viewing angle, at which the design becomes visible.

Illusion/Shadow knitting is constructed using (for the most part, though not always) two colors in alternating double rows.  The pieces look striped as they are knit.  The magic happens when the piece is set on a flat surface and the viewer steps back to widen the viewing angle.  Below is a photo of the scarf as it looks when viewed at a 90-degree angle.  Just stripes and the water disappears.

But . . . we don’t want water to disappear, so check out the 1st and Green link for tips and to join their challenge to save water and offset carbon,  if you’d like to.

Note 1:  For one of my granddaughter’s science fair projects, she decided to focus on saving water at home.  Because of her project, I had already charted water drops for a face cloth that I knit for her.  I borrowed my own chart and then added charting for the H₂O image.

Note2:  As of the original post date, I had not decided to crochet a border on the scarf.  Illusion/Shadow knitting curls cause a knit piece to curl and I am not always opposed to the curl.  Scarves, especially, can curl around our necks anyway when we wrap them around – so somtimes I igore any edging.  Since writing this post, I have added three crocheted rows to the long edges of the scarf, beginning with the wrong side facing me for the first row.  The photo below is the result.

There are other ways to handle the curling, but in the end, a decision has to be made.  I went with crocheting.  If you notice a slight waviness to the edges now, it’s because the H₂O image was worked over en even number of stitches and the image of water drops was worked over an odd number of stitches.

I just checked the Super Scarf website and they are showing a total of 6,256 scarves that have been collected so far.  The number is still climbing.

If you would like to knit the Magic Water Scarf, click the link for the pdf pattern.

Happy knitting!

Candy Cane Christmas Clutch – the Verse of the Purse

by Goodnightgram.wordpress.com

 

Get your needles – number threes**.

Find white and red – one ounce of these.

Cast on 40, knit ‘em tight.

Two rows each: first read, then white.

At eight inches, bind off, turn hem.

Sew side seams. There’re two of them.

Add a zipper.  Twist pull-cord.

Keep making clutches until you’re bored.

I’ve made a green one.  Now it’s done.

So just start knitting Christmas fun.

**US needle size

Christmas Dilemma in Church . . . What’s an Organist to Do?

I still have the key.. . . . . 

I was the church organist in my Smalltownville church for many years: from seventh grade, through high school, and then all through my college years.  Somehow the key to the organ has moved with me from Smalltownville, to Hell** and back, and resides with me now in Seven Hills.  I’m sure the key would still unlock the roll-top cover to the organ’s keyboards.  Though things change in Smalltownville, things don’t change that quickly.  They change slower still in the religious corporation that owns the church where the organ is the only piece of permanent furniture in the balcony.

I spent much of my youth in that balcony, practicing or playing for services.  When one or two of the pipes would whistle in the summer humidity, I climbed the narrow staircase of the belfry, listened for the offending pipe(s), then pulled them out.  That was the simplest solution to end the incessant noise!  It also ended my ability to play that particular note, too, but there are creative ways to get around that.

I spent so much time in that church that it seriously impeded my free time for things . . .  like Christmas shopping.  As a general rule, I didn’t shop much.  I either made my gifts or somehow managed to figure something out.  One year, though, I wanted to buy my mother (Gr8) a sweater and I didn’t want her to have a single clue about it.  Shopping wasn’t really a pastime in Smalltownville back then, so my free time was spent on math and chemistry homework, helping with household chores, babysitting and of course, playing the organ.  When I thought I had a moment to buy the sweater, Mother was either with me or waiting for me at home and would have spotted my bag.  That wouldn’t do.  It’s not a surprise if it’s not a surprise.

What to do?  With two services on Saturday evening each week, and three services on Sunday, it seemed as if I was always in church and would never have a chance to sneak to the store to buy my mother’s Christmas sweater.

I decided to be a little bold. (Brash, bossy and sassy, if I’m honest) but to this day, I take secret delight in my solution.  Prior to the service, I told the presiding minister that I was going shopping during his sermon and he needed to keep talking until he saw me return to the balcony.  I explained that I was going to play the song before the sermon, then r-u-n the two blocks to the main street, and bolt the last half block to the store where the clerk was holding my mother’s Christmas gift for me.  I told him I would have the cash ready, pay for the gift and r-u-n back to the church in time for the song after his sermon.  He understood and agreed.

So that’s how it went down, sort of.  My family members were all seated in a pew in the church below my perch.  The service progressed through opening hymn, prayers, etc and the time had come for the sermon.  I tiptoed down the balcony stairs.  I gently opened and closed the side front door to the church.  I made my two-block sprint to the main street.  I took a right turn  and dashed past the five and dime to the clothing store and paid for my mother’s sweater.  I had some change to spare.

The mistake in my plan was having that change to spare.  I walked out of the clothing store and into the five and dime next door.  I bought a soda – which we didn’t have very often – and after all, weren’t we were getting close enough to Christmas for a special treat?  I opened the bottle and took a long slow swallow.  What a treat – freedom from what was, by that time, my 1040th service in a row in that church!  That’s a lot to ask from a high school kid.

I couldn’t actually r-u-n back to church with an opened, glass soda bottle, so I strolled a bit.  I had a chance to look at the snow in the trees and take it all in breath by breath, step by step.  In fact, I strolled a bit longer than I had realized.  When I arrived back to my organ bench in the balcony, I turned to see the associate pastor pacing back and forth in front of the altar as he ad-libbed the part of the sermon that was NOT on his carefully prepared and typed paper.

First of all, Catholic priests at that time did not pace when they preached.  And secondly, they did not ad lib either.  I had been gone a half hour and it was long past time for the sermon to have ended.  Bless his heart, he didn’t give me away (other than the pacing and the ad-libbing.)

I hid my mother’s sweater under the roll-top cover to the organ, for which I had the key.  And since I was the only organist for that church, there wasn’t much danger of my gift disappearing until I had a chance to wrap it and bring it home after I played the last note of the final Christmas hymn for the Midnight Mass that year.

The associate pastor is no longer a priest and I am no longer a church organist.  The one thing that remains is my mother’s Christmas sweater.  She still has it and wears it from time to time.  It’s a part of me and my Smalltownville memories.

** Hell is my pseudonym for all the times and spaces and places between Smalltownville and Seven Hills, which are generally not addressed in this blog.

We went to get a dozen eggs

As I mentioned in my previous post, Goodnight and I took a drive to Smalltownville to visit Gr8.  It’s been a lovely visit so far.

This morning, my mother told me that she would like me to pick up a dozen eggs for her.  Rather than make the five block trip to the Smalltownville market myself, I asked her if she was up to getting out and joining me.  She was.  So I  rolled Goodnight out of her comfy position in Gr8′s recliner to join us.  I had a plan.

When Gr8 got into my car, I said, “I just want to warn you ahead of time, that I’d like to take you on a drive in the country before we get your eggs.  It will do us both some good.  My knee still hurts like crazy and I think mental health is as important as physical health.  Okay?”

Gr8 just smiled at me.  She knew I would find a country road that neither us had ever been on and find a way to make us all smile about it.  It just happens, though, without too much planning on my part.

We left at 8:45 a.m. to ‘get the eggs’.

I headed north out of Smalltownville.  I told her that I was actually curious about where a specific road in the next small town would lead us.  I didn’t know where it went and wanted to find out.  So . . . . we took a left turn at the corner where, for most of my life, I’ve taken a right.  In retrospect, I’m certain I was influenced my the ghost of Robert Frost and his Road Not Taken.

The towns are small, so it wasn’t long before we were out in the countryside again.  We drove a while and soon I realized that I was headed to a town where I had travelled with my high school band to play in their summer festival – a festival of corn-on-the-cob.  What a good place to do some sight-seeing.

Sight-seeing in a small town isn’t like going to big places boasting tourist attractions.  It’s much different.  We looked at very old brick homes that are sturdier than they appear on their time-worn exteriors.  We looked at old businesses that used to employ many of the local residents and drew residents of neighboring communities for work, as well.  We noticed that the main thoroughfare in the business district had been transformed enough to prohibit cars from ‘cruising the main drag’ like folks did when I was young.

Not a problem for my Chevro-sleigh.  I could see that all I had to do was go around a building, drive through a parking lot, and come out on the other side to continue my drive.

What was on the other side?  Could that be a thrift store?  Oh my!  ”Mom?  Wanna stop in for a moment – you know, just for a quick look?”

Gr8:  I doubt if they are open on Sunday.

Gram:  It’s Saturday.  Let’s see if they have Saturday hours.

We went into the store and had a great time looking around.  All three of us found some useful things.  More importantly, someone who knew my mother, introduced herself and had a good long chat with Gr8.

When we left the thrift store, we pointed the car toward home, but via a different route.  We were making a loop rather than backtracking.  Backtracking wouldn’t be as fun.

When we arrived at the small town between the one where the thrift shop was and Smalltownville, I noticed the time and thought it would make a nice stop to take Gr8 and Little Gr8 out for a meal.  We found a quiet family restaurant and enjoyed our dinner together.  The restaurant was across the parking lot from the public swimming pool where I got to go once every summer when I was a child.  The restaurant wasn’t there years ago.  It had been an ice-cream shop and cones were only five cents.  Ah the good old days, eh?

By the time we left the restaurant, we had been gone from home about three hours, just to go five blocks for a dozen eggs.  Fun!

We headed toward home.  When we were a mile out of Smalltownville, Gr8 wanted to see if a friend of hers was at home, but as we drove past her house, Gr8 remembered that her friend was going to volunteer at the Smalltownville food shelf and had told Gr8 to stop by for a visit.  So . . . we did.  GN calls Gr8′s friend her BFFWAOP (Best Friends Forever with an Old Person), so she had to say hi and give her a hug, too.

Fun stop for me.  The Smalltownville food shelf is housed in an old convent that is no longer inhabited by nuns.  I had attended the grade school that was adjacent to the convent, but never really had an occasion to see much of the convent – only the kitchen when I would rake the leaves away from the back door for the nun/cook who would pay me back with a cookie.  I raked for her whenever I could. 

When I was in grade school, the old convent housed ten nuns.  Eight of them taught in the grade school, one was a cook and the other was the church organist who gave piano lessons, too.  I took piano lessons from her beginning the summer after I completed first grade.

I remember my first piano lesson distinctly.  She opened the music book to the first page and asked me to read.  It said, “To the pupil:”

The old nun asked me if I knew who the pupil was.

I wasn’t sure.  It was an unfamiliar word to me and had an aire of importance to it, so I said, “You are!” with all the innocence of my youth.  She just smiled at me and had me continue reading.  I don’t remember exactly when I figured out that I was the pupil, but I remained her pupil until I took over her post as the church organist when I was in the seventh grade.  She retired and moved away from Smalltownville to the priory where she lived out her years – to the age of 103.

I’m sure one of the upstairs bedrooms in the empty convent was hers.

The kitchen looked much as it I remembered.  The hill where the autumn leaves collected outside the kitchen door had been leveled for the back addition to the grade school.  It didn’t level my memories, however.

By the time we left the convent and said our good-byes to BFFWAOP, we had been gone over four hours.  The Smalltownville grocery market was two blocks from the convent.  Gr8 and Little Gr8 went in to finally find the eggs that were the reason for getting out of the house in the first place.

I sat in the store and texted my sis in another state to tell her about the convent and to make her a wee bit jealous at our thrift shop treasures.  We had a good electronic trip down memory lane while I waited for the egg-hunters.

Smalltownville holds a charm for me.  Perhaps it’s because I can leave it and come back whenever I want to – something I couldn’t do as a child.  Perhaps it’s because Gr8 still lives there and she is the reason to enjoy it still.  It could be that the dusty roads close to home that I have yet to discover lure me there.  What I really believe, however, is that Smalltownville holds a charm for me because I have grown up enough to notice what was there all along. 

Besides, it’s so much fun going out to buy a dozen eggs! 

Have Fruits and Veggies – Will Travel

I had so much fun fixing up a fruit and veggie caddy for Goodnight that I bought a second one and fixed it up for Gr8.

I have no clue how those chocolate footballs got in there, but they are hidden in the middle layer of the caddy that Goodnight and I are taking when we go for a visit today.

Yesterday is gone and the overcast sky we had is gone, too.  It’s a beautiful day for a drive to Smalltownville.  I think I shall take the scenic route . . . .   

 

Perfect Timing for Goodnight!

The bus with Goodnight and her peers returned from their day trip to a water park just after 5:30 p.m. yesterday – pretty much on time.

She hopped off the bus with smiles and goodbyes to her friends until next weeks adventure.  Then she hopped in the car and just chattered away about her day.  I loved it!

She wasn’t chilled to the bone from swimming outside in the 60-degree drizzling rain.  The water was heated to 80 degrees.  Good to know.  She was fine and in a fun mood.

GN:  But you’ll never guess who was there, Gram!

Gram:  Probably not.  Who was there?

GN: ’ HENRY’!

Gram:  Henry?

GN:  Yah, you remember?  Hen-ry was there today.

The lightbulb clicked and I started grinning immediately.  I couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.

On earlier this month, I wrote a post called When the Kindergarten Teacher Retires and told a story that happened when Goodnight was in Kindergarten.  She got in the face of a little boy and screamed at him to stop crying – only her words were . . . much different!  That’s the Henry that was at the water park yesterday.

Gram:  Did you say hello?

GN:  Oh sure!

Gram:  Did he remember you?

GN:  Oh sure!

Gram:  Did he remember what you did?

GN:  Vaguely.  But I told him that the Kindergarten teacher told you the story a couple of weeks ago and that you told me.  I told him I was sorry.  He said he was cool about it.  Then we just chatted for a while to catch up.

What I love about this chance meeting with ‘Henry’, is the timing of it all.  I’m so glad GN had a chance to see an old classmate,  apologize for what she did, and then  find out what kind of nice young teen he’s turning out to be.  I also love how easy it was for GN to bring it up with him and how easy it was for him to overlook the incident.   

p.s. She said he doesn’t cry when his mother drops him off anymore. 

Refrigerator Makeover . . . . making healthy snacks more appealing and convenient

I am not an expert on healthy eating or snacking.  If things didn’t cause a person to run the risk of high blood pressure, diabetes, or any other internal ailment or risk, I would drink more coffee than water, have ice-cream for breakfast (I suppose with fruit in it just because it’s breakfast) and BBQ pork ribs washed down with a dark brown ale MUCH more frequently than I do.  But . . . . I try to stay on the straight and narrow and set an example for Goodnight.

Goodnight is gone for the day.  She was excited to begin her once-a-week summer program.  In the morning, a group of students will get together for a community service project and in the afternoon, they head out for an activity.  From the schedule, it looks like most of the afternoon activities are at water parks.  Yea for Goodnight!  I love her dearly, but she needs to be with her friends, too.

I am curious about what the service projects will be and I can’t wait to hear about today’s water park adventure because it’s drizzling outside now and downright chilly!

While she’s away, however, I’m giving the refrigerator a make-over.  Not a huge one, but something to make Goodnight’s snacking more convenient.

The first thing I spend my grocery money on for the week is fresh fruits and vegetables.  I try to buy just enough for the week so we minimize waste and boredom.  Everything has been in its own separate container or bag, but that makes for a lot of digging and container juggling when she’s hungry, so I’ve been looking for just the right thing to make refrigerator snacking easier for her.

I really don’t want to turn this into a commercial for a specific product, but I found something that I think will work for her.  I bought a set of stacking trays with a carrying handle.  I couldn’t find a photo of the exact 3-tiered box I bought, but I found a photo of a 4-tiered caddy by the same company. 

In the photo below, the caddy is used for Christmas things.  Mine has three tiers and two of the tiers have divided compartments so I can separate the grapes from the blueberries, or the snap peas from the grape tomatoes and so forth.  But you can get the idea.

I found it in the Home Storage section instead of Housewares or the Kitchen section.

I am going to fill Goodnight’s caddy with things that she likes but doesn’t want to take the time to wash or cut when she’s hungry.  I hope she likes it!

Just doing what I can to raise a healthy Goodnight.

p.s.  The cupboards were already pretty healthy.  Unsalted versions of nuts,  pretzels and nachos, no sodas (or dark brown ale) and sadly for her, no cookies.  I took her to a candy store last week, and she has been AMAZING in how shes been budgeting her stash.  I was curious how that was going to go.

While my knee is elevated and ‘on ice’ . . .

I can’t say that I’m bored yet.  Maybe it wasn’t only my knee that needed some healing.  I seldom feel that my ‘spirits’ are down, but having so much time at home to just enjoy being here, has been a wonderful boost despite my swollen knee.

I am walking with crutches and yesterday I took my knee stabilizer off  long enough to get into the car and drive to the thrift store where I found several (five is several, right?) Christmas movies that I didn’t have.  The best of the deals was $.49, and the most expensive one I found was the one I mentioned in yesterday’s post – $1.

So . . . I hang out at home with my knitting and my Christmas movies.  I know it’s only June, but hey – December will come so quickly once I get back to work! 

At the thrift store yesterday, I also found a book that is a collection of Christmas stories and poems.   I decided to use it for my sister’s annual ‘sister-quip’ puzzles that I write for her and send for each day of Advent.  I plan to work on as many puzzles as I can today.

The Christmas Candy Caddies are done.  I think I have enough – for now.

I haven’t given up on the Super Scarf Project for the Indianapolis Super Bowl.  I have a stash of blue and white yarn to keep me company.  I’m just waiting for it to tell me what it wants to be.  Nope!  I do not talk to yarn!

I just listen to it. 

“What are those things sticking out of your basket?”

I collect Christmas movies.  It doesn’t matter to me what time of year I find one.  If I don’t have it, I am likely to consider buying it . . . . especially if it costs only $1.00.

I found one yesterday that I’ve never seen before.  (I don’t get cable, so don’t know if it aired there.)  I got it for 8 bits at a thrift shop.  I took it home and watched it immediately.  Loved it.  I won’t spoil the plot, but a knitter has got to love one spot in the middle . . . . .

Boy (walking with his mother through woods): What are those things sticking out of your basket?

Mother:  They’re knitting needles.  I thought I would try knitting you some clothes now that I’ve mastered cooking.

I’ve been knitting long enough that I spotted those knitting needles even before the boy in the movie did – and the red yarn, too!

From: The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey, 2007, a 91 minute family film, starring Tom Berenger.  Directed by Bill Clark.  From the book by  Susan Wojciechowski.

Actually, we get to see what happens with the red yarn later in the movie. 

Made my day.  

Lipstick Caddy

The cap had jiggled off.  The tube inside had twisted upward and my medium pink lip color had smeared over everything!  I guess the answer to the HUGE mess I had at the bottom of my purse would have been  to decide never to wear lipstick again, but . . . that isn’t the option I went with.

I decided to knit a lipstick caddy instead.  It’s big enough to hold just one tube, but at least the cover can’t jiggle off anymore!

Three things influenced me as I designed this little case.  1) I have a collection of Anchor Hocking Blue Moonstone table wear – and the dressing table powder box in the photo, too - so I like the hobnail look.  2) I like vintage textiles in darker colors. 3) I found a set of craft mirrors at a thrift shop for a song!  If I had purchased them at a craft store, I might have had to dance, too.

I used the Trinity Stitch for this piece.  It is also referred to as the Astrakhan Stitch.  It can be what some knitters would call fussy work, especially the P3 Tog.  I understand why.  It can throw off the thythm of knitting, but I like the outcome, so I think it’s worth the patience.

Lipstick Caddy

Dimensions

Width:  3 ½”

Height:  2 ½’

Materials

#3 (US) straight needles

worsted weight cotton yarn in color of choice

blunt end yarn needle

5/8″ diameter snap

thread in color to match yarn

small mirror with self-adhesive backing

Abbreviations

BO: bind off

CO: cast on

K: knit

P: purl

Tog: together

Directions

CO 20 stitches

Row 1 – Wrong Side:  (K1, P1, K1 in one stitch), P3 Tog

Row 2:  P

Row 3:  P3 Tog, (K1, P1, K1 in one stitch)

Row 4:  P

Repeat rows 1-4 until the piece measures 6 inches.

Bind off in P on either the 2nd or 4th row whenever peice measures 6 inches.

Finishing

The finished knit piece can be evenly divided as follows –  two inches for the front of the caddy, two inches for the back of the caddy and two inches for the fold-over flap. 

Fold the piece accordingly and sew the two side seams.

Weave in yarn ends.

Attach snap pieces – one to the inside of cover and one to the front of the caddy.

Remove back from self-adhesive mirror and attach to the inside of the cover, just under the snap – centered on the fold-over flap.

Goodnight saw mine and wants one for herself.  “Not black, though.  Okay, Gram?”