Blessed.

When the random thought to knit overtook me, I figured my family at the very least would think I was insane, or more insane.  But that persistent voice in my head won out, needles and yarn purchased I settled in.  Granted it was hours of me locked in my room screaming at tiny needles and unruly, squeaky acrylic but I did in the end succeed. 

My first box of yarn arrived shortly there after.  A gift from a friend who acquired it for free on Craigslist.  

Addiction established. 

A hat gifted to my mom, resulted in two huge bags passed on from one of her friends, excited that I was taking it up. 

Most recently, a Christmas hat for my sister leads to conversations of yarn with her friend and now another bag ends up on my doorstep.

 

I still don't know the why behind me picking up needles. 

I don't know if I'll ever be privy to that information, if the stars will align and it'll all make sense. 

I'm more than confident in the necessity though.  I gave up on coincidence a long time ago.  For whatever reason, bag after bag keeps finding it's way in, it's not my place to question, simply to cast on. 

My "Thank You" hat knit for my sister's friend.  I love the cable band and cloche styling, hope she does too!

Perfection.

Something I have yet to attain, nor see in my immediate future.  Pretty darn good, I know a lot about.  The latest project was conceived as a knit along with my girlfriend and since I had yarn searching for a project, I paired them up and cast on. 


Needless to say this one made me think. 

Middle medallion was actually done rather quickly, star transforming before my eyes.

The outer band was another beast entirely.

"Knit until it fits around" is not my favorite term.  A quick Google search on finding circumference refreshed my high school math skills and gave my goal number.

After some chart memorization techniques that would've come in handy about 52 inches earlier, it began to fly.

Perfect would've been the cotton it called for, I used wool.

Perfect would've been all cables crossed correctly, instead I once went right when I should've gone left.  Realization too far along to care.

Perfect would've been a nice seamlessly, tight kitchener.  I can barely spell kitchener I'm impressed I thought to do it at all.

Perfect would've read the pattern to see an additional seam needed before joining all pieces.  As usual, I dove right in to get 'er done.

But in the end, it is me.  Thank you my friend for doing this one too, commiserating along the way is half the fun.  You'll be done before you know it, two imperfect friends, happily looking over the faults.

Phases.

I've honestly lost track of which phase this would be, but if there is a precursor to empty nest this would be it.  On the tail end of storm clouds, summer vacation arrives. 

Today was my last day alone with Elijah. 

This Fall he enters the world of school.  Another woman will not only hold his attention but his affection as well.

Ethan lived his youth in daycare and pre-k.  Elaina soaked up one solid year at home, while I got my sea-legs.  Elijah basked in three entire mommy filled years.

With my heart in my throat we commenced our day. 

What does a perfect day for a 5 year old look like?

It starts with a stroll downtown. 

Stopping to watch a bird in the awning above a store. 

Waving at a toddler crawling through mannequin legs. 

Staring in awe at rapid water as it disappears underground. 

Ice cold strawberries and cream licked greedily off a straw. 

A surprise stop at a favorite sweet shop. 

Lunch on a blanket with Frank and Jessica squirrel as they snatch up all the apple they possibly can. 

Back in the car, a sudden cry to stop, simply to drop a stick in a tiny stream and watch it flow all the way to the pond below.

And with that our phase has ended. 



Will this time shape him differently than the other two? 

Will he encourage his future wife to sacrifice career to the infinitely more important role of mom?

Bell rings, two more enter. 

Arguing ensues, tears flow, the injustice of imagined lack.

Heart firmly pushed back down in place, one long, deep breath before diving into this next phase. 

Summer begins.

Bliss.

After a ridiculously wet May and a months worth of rain in one day for June we knew, without a doubt, it was time.  Trailer in literal tow we packed up the kids and headed over the hills in search of bliss.  The clouds parted and sun beams shone down on the perfect spot nestled in the woods.  This was of course after the current campers with the three enourmous dogs that tried to eat our friends dog left. But I digress.  Oasis rises with the turn of a crank.   Bliss emerges.

Chairs unfold, fire smolders to life, children giggle-run after butterflies fluttering for their lives. 

No buzz of technology. 

No "Can I get on?" cry to play on the computer 24/7.

Not even enough reception to determine the time.

Silent bliss.

Native fish navigating the river behind camp, provide the perfect opportunity for Ethan.  Unfamiliar fly rod tentatively held, he manages to entice.  Success spawns confidence, another fly fisherman has been born. 

Back at camp, grill marks form while sausages sizzle. 

Marshmallow, chocolate and dirt covers each child as they sleepily retire from day 1.

Exhausted bliss.

Bacon fills the air as scorching water drains through  grounds. 

Kids happily play with bubbles as groggy adults prepare for the day, Lawrence Welk's camping road tour.

Never to be out done by the older brother, Elaina awkwardly makes her first cast.  Middle child triuphantly lands four fish.  Two small fly rods now in our monetary future. 

Two days down, three spent kids, one dog that will sleep unmoving for days and two very satisfied parents. 

Victory claimed over the inaugural trip.

Memories and abilities to be passed down to their own broods.

Stocked trailer simply awaits food and clothing. 

Bliss attained.