And now for something completely different

I have been working away pretty steadily at my latest circular lace shawl. I used to be a knitter that had several projects on the go at once, but over the last couple of years, I have become more of a one-thing-at-a-time gal. Someone might draw all kinds of commitment conclusions; I think I just happen to like what I am working on.

That doesn't mean I don't take an occasional break, like this little Christmas ornament, a slight modification of a pattern Jan taught at the guild last year.

Here's the original except I threw in yarnover knit 2 together instead of plain knitting between the beads:

For my third one (no photos of my second one), I used pale blue yarn, crystal beads, stretched it over a pearl white ball and added double yarn overs so it is lacier.

(It works best if you squint your eyes a bit. I do miss Cass. She used to take my photos!)

My Life in Cookie Cutters

Today is Mom's birthday and I was thinking about how lucky I am to have her for my mother. I grew up hearing that I could accomplish anything -- big things, little things. No limits.

Here's proof:


I wanted to do something special for Vince and his Eagle Ceremony. Not something Grand and Expensive. Something small and special. Like cut-out cookies in the shape of Boy Scout emblems. I didn't have a cookie cutter in the right shape but did have aluminum flashing and tape. And the memory of Mom making a heart-shaped cutter for Valentine's Day when she wanted one just the right size. (It was the perfect size: not skimpy, not so big that it took up too much cookie dough.)

The Boy Scout cookies were charming. I iced them with gold icing, then forgot them on the kitchen counter as we rushed to the ceremony. Sigh. It is a good thing Boy Scouts are just as happy to eat cookies at their next meeting as they are to eat them at an Eagle Ceremony.

I grew up hearing I did not have to do what everyone else did. We had Christmas cookies shaped like Santas, snowmen, angels, Christmas trees, bells ... and chickens. We had Christmas chickens. Every time I make cut-out cookies, no matter what the holiday, I always make a few chickens.

I grew up knowing the world was a big place, getting the chance to see a bit of it, but knowing right down to my metatarsals that I had a home. I had a place I belonged.

Somewhere along the line, I learned that love counts. Not things. Not square footage. Not the number of shoes in my closet or how discerning my palate.

Thank you for showing me these things, Mom. Happy birthday. I love you.