Camping

I have come to understand that knitting does not mix well with vacation, at least in my case. When packing for our nice long camping trip last weekend I managed to limit myself to two small projects to bring along. Did I touch them? Not a bit. Now I did get a bit done on the ride home from New Hampshire, but that was only once we hit the Boston traffic.

Otherwise, it’s hard to concentrate on knitting when my eyes are drawn to the beautiful White Mountains and fall foliage.

We had a blast-did some late season apple picking. Phil (despite the baby weight) easily hoisted me onto his shoulders to pick any apple of my desiring. Scout assisted by, well, providing constant companionship and his own sense of doggie humor. I firmly believe that our beloved Scout is quite the joker, and tries constantly to make us laugh. He did this for most of the weekend with great success.

We rewarded him Sunday by taking him to Stephen Huneck’s gallery for the dog party. Apparently, Stephen has since appeared on Oprahhhhhh, and the party was quite big, and a bit more attended than the one we went to a few years ago. Yup, it was the Oprah effect. Due to his celebrity status, we have yet to actually meet Mr. Huneck, as his time was monopolized by some annoying celebrity-seekers and their snuffling pug.

We also passed by a ‘fainting goat’ farm. If you haven’t seen the tv report, or received the email, lookee here. I couldn’t result snapping a shot.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/faintinggoats.html

Halfway There...

....to the weekend. Big plans this time! Camping in New Hampshire, apple picking, some (very slow) hiking, campfire cooking, and on sunday?
Another Dog Party at Steven Huneck's gallery in Vermont. Scout is included in this trip, so its a true family vacation. The last time we went to Dog Mountain we had a blast. It was like heaven- dogs were eating treats, roaming through all the buildings, splashing in the ponds, frolicking in the fields. Pretty cool. I should also mention that when Phil was deployed, the people at Steven Huneck's gallery were kind enough to ship a whole roll of prints of our favorite artwork to him to cheer up his living space and remind him that his best buddy was waiting for him to return home.

My quest today is to search ahead for local knit shops and alpaca farms, since Phil might be willing to stop and shop with me a little this weekend. Blogless Sharon has also been talking about acquiring some merino for her flock, so its always a good idea to keep an eye open in our travels!

Small Things

Wow, it seems sometimes like I hate to finish projects. There are a million of them around the house, competing for my attention, like the nursery that needs a second coat of paint, the pants that could use a crisp finished cuff, the pea pod sweater that STILL needs buttons and a matching hat... But last night I began carefully seaming the raglan baby sweater and found that the finishing touches made me feel so..relaxed.

Every moment we are thinking ahead-how best to utilize that commute home, what we might need to pick up for dinner, did I RSVP for that shower yet? My mind is always racing, I'm always keeping in mind the next bill to be paid, the next call to make, the next weekend's plans.

So, its time to remind myself to keep things simple. To not sweat the small stuff, but to savor it. After all, we don't get forever to enjoy these things, like dinners with the family, couch time with Scout (he's a great foot warmer), and taking a few seconds every morning to watch the waves from my kitchen window while taking a couple deep breaths.

So we shut the TV off last night, Phil read a book, and I meticulously seamed that itty bitty sweater before going to sleep. So I have learned another lesson from knitting; sometimes its important to master a new skill, or finish a daunting task. But sometimes it is enough to just enjoy a few simple stitches.

Show and Tell

So I was a bit frustrated with all I have to do, but last night was just not the night to get anything done. Nope. Last night I watched bad TV, put my feet up, and ate a lot of Kraft Mac&Cheese. Oh, I also took Scout for a walk, in my pajamas. Well, he wasn't wearing them, I was..nevermind.

It may have been because Phil was working, or perhaps because my little foray into Kohl's maternity section was soooooo depressing. And I want to know why are those clothes so nasty! Peak childbearing years for women these days seem to be the mid-30's, which I think is an age in which most women reach a better self-awareness, have created their own sense of style, and probably have a bit more in their pockets to spend on decently-manufactured clothing. So why is everything I get to pick from for the next four months made of 100% poly-rayon blends? If my body is going to change drastically why are seams and stitching so cheaply done? And why does the Motherhood clothing manufacturer think I want a velour sweatsuit?

Don't they notice that stores like Banana Republic and The Limited, who cater predominantly to women in my age-bracket do NOT stock their shelves with hideous bourbon-colored paisley tops? Do I buy pants that say PINK or PRINCESS across my butt? Do I slouch anymore? By 30 we all grow up a little (hopefully) learn to stand taller, have some dignity, and dress ourselves with a little pride.
Sweatsuits are for the gym, and I'm about as likely to go jump into a sculpting class as a rock-climbing competition right now, so spare me. I guess Kohl's maternity feels that pregnant women should be locked away in confinement, only to surface for food-shopping in their sloppy sweats, dragging their feet in loud flip-flops. I personally was hoping to show of my maternity glow, wearing some sparklies and elegant pants with at least a halfway decent drape. Dammit, I'm calling Nordstrom.

That's my friday rant. At this time I would like to bring your attention to the CUUUUTE buttons I picked up last weekend. Teeny little airplanes, rustic wooden leaves (and the stitch markers I whipped up from some leftover beads.)

Bender Update: Turbulence

My good old boyfriend Joe Bender is hitting the rapids today. Why, you ask? Well, when you get a lot of pressure at the dam, the result will be more turbulent waters (or so I learned at Zoar white water rafting in western MA). So my 'turbulence' is a result of putting too many things off for tomorrow. Now its time to buckle my PFD and take the plunge.

1)We have a big vacant master bedroom that needs to be de-wallpapered before my father-in-law can come in to fix it up.
2)We have a nursery that is half-painted. I'm also down to my last pair of pre-pregnant pants, and shamefully must admit to myself its time for elastic waistbands.
3) After a fun trip to Windsor Button last weekend, I came home with these gorgeous wooden buttons, shaped like leaves, for my baby raglan sweater. However, making buttonholes big enough on the raglan decreases has proven more difficult than a simple YO. Today, in between my legitimate work (believe it or not I actually do work) I need to find a pattern to assimilate into my own design..
4) Friends? Where are they? I need to set aside some serious QT for my buddies, because not everything in this world revolves around babies. Or knitting. Just everything in MY world.
5) October. Almost here. How the hell did that happen?

Loopy Wednesday

Ha ha! Rhinebeck is going to be a blast! I signed up this week to be a player in Blogger Bingo, so watch out! I am a fearless hunter who will be on the prowl, come hell or high water!
I decided not to be a square because right now I'd most likely be known as "Fields of Heather, WHO?" I peeked at Stitchy's list of participants and see there are a ton of bloggers who will be squares that I can't wait to meet. Being a newbie, I think this year I will really enjoy making new friends and finding new bloggers to learn from. So let the games begin!

I also worked on my brother's care package this weekend, and decided to go the frivolous route. Mom is sending home-made brownies and neccesities to comfort him. I'm sending toys, movies, and assorted crack-ups, such as windup rubber bugs the size of your hand that scurry across the floor, and of course the greatest action figure in my mind, Joe Bender.

Joe is pretty cool, and I like to keep him around, but he would make a very bad boyfriend. As you can see, sometimes he grows his hair way too long, and he obviously spend a fortune on sporting goods. In his collection is hockey, football, baseball gear, assorted skiing and snowboarding equipment. He recently splurged on a sporty little kayak. Oh, and apparently he doesn't bother with the PFD. So unfortunately our relationship would not last. I will rest my hopes with good old G.I. Joe.

Again, no camera handy

While my mother may remain blogless, I apparently from time to time am cameraless. What a terrible weekend to leave my camera at work! Saturday with friends at a cheezy Journey/Def Leppard concert, sunday in Boston at the Knit-Out-what was I thinking?! Fajitas & 'Ritas with new blogger friends, building up excitement for Winebeck, I mean, Rhinebeck was purty cool. Attacking Windsor Button in a frenzy-also purty neat. Tomorrow I will be able to post pictures of my new stash, and some of the goodies I snagged at the Knit-Out on the Common yesterday.

To be honest, I'm still feelin' a bit special because my LYS was there to represent, and the ladies from Duxbury's Wool Basket Yarns even recognized me. I'm proud to be such a yarn-shop haunt. More tomorrow, as I am sagging under the weight of a million hearings, and goody-goody that I am, volunteered to adopt a few extra just to be helpful. And they took me up on it.

Darn.

Needles of Fire!

I picked up a Debbie Bliss publication, the Baby Knits Book, this week and went to town. I had seen her hooded cable sweater pattern online and just couldn't get it out of my head! After I got the book home I read that it would require about 6 skeins of cotton on something like a size 3 needle. Hmm... how about I just put that off a little longer. Sounds like the perfect project for next Christmas.

But, to have something fun to whip up, I nabbed a few hanks of Plymouth Yarn's Suri Merino (55% alpaca, 45% merino) in a soft sage color to make the raglan sweater. My half-stitched idea, however, is to combine this with another pattern so I can have a 2-button closure on the shoulder. After all, who wants to pull a fitted rollneck collar over a baby's head? Debbie should have though of that... If anyone has any ideas let me know, otherwise I'm just going to play it by ear.
The baby Pea Pod set is so fun to make. I'm working on the cap right now, and possibly matching socks if I have enough cashmerino left over. This sunday at the Knit Out I will need to hit Windsor Button for some nifty little buttons.

On a side note, I peeked through Knitting Nature and spotted the coolest pattern for woolen women's tams, and thought this might be a fun idea for Christmas gifts. I know I would wear it, and it's simple enough that I could make enough for my friends. Does anyone have a similar pattern they could share?

My Favorite Guys...5 years later

(With the exception of my wonderful dad).

Here's to Ed, Kevin, and Mr. Phil-the best lookin' guys I know. I love them, I love them I love them! Kevin is happily married to Michelle, five+ years and counting. They were wed within the same year that Phil and I said our "I do's". To this day we are still close friends. I cheekily call Ed 'my other husband' but to be honest these guys are more than just friends-they are family.


And this next picture just grabbed me, as Phil was walking with a little guy to show off the jeep, it hit me that this might be identical to the way things will be just a few years from now, right down to the little blonde boy in cargo pants, no less!

I'm the bad Mommy....

So I was at a lovely baptism yesterday for our friends-the kind of friends that live close by, you love them dearly, but for some crazy reason you don't see often enough. You know those? Well, at the party afterwards us mommies-to-be flocked together for a few minutes like we always do, to exchange info (how far along? have any names yet? who's your doctor? etc) and compare tummies. Of course, we love new mommies too, and they always join us to share the joy. They also join us to share a lot of No-no's. For this reason, I'm a little wary of first-time moms. They always have a strict and sensitive list of things you MUST not do or touch when you're pregnant. They carry a bottle of antibacterial gel wherever they go, and are acutely talented at pointing out your boo-boos publicly.

I have a lot of those.

So we were sharing with a friend who had just announced her pregnancy and talking about food, of course, and how funny it is (not really) to say goodbye to the world of sushi, beer, and rare meats. She wasn't too happy about the caffeine restriction and was admitting she still gave in often to diet coke, and I was confessing the same, when the 'fresh off the delivery table' mom joined in and began expounding on her lengthy list of no-no's. "And NEVER drink those protein waters," she bellowed and looked pointedly at me. I froze, a bottle of Vitamin Water poised at my lips. Somewhere on the patio a glass broke, the music skipped, and a sweet italian grandmother slid to the ground in a faint.

I smiled as innocently as I could, and slowly lowered the bottle, certain that I would be taken to the ground by a SWAT team if I dared another sip, based on the consternation I saw on SuperMom's face. Aw, hell. Sometimes they take it so seriously you feel they have created their own philosophy, and you have ventured into the Parish of Perfect Motherhood without respecting their principles. By sucking down a water beverage fortified with electrolytes I had just tread upon her ethos. Thinking of the cold cuts accidentally eaten the day before I blushed.

Then little baby Rand from down below gave me a big boot, like some silent confirmation that all was alright. I hadn't messed up anything seriously so far. So maybe "What to Expect When You're Expecting" is gathering dust under my coffeetable. Imagine the looks on their faces if they knew we were going camping in late october in new hampshire, and that I planned on not bathing for four days *gasp* and would definitely NOT bring any antibacterial gel! Mercy!

On a side note- I hope to see you at the Boston Knit-Out on sunday-I am so excited! Just please don't point and scream if you see me with a bottle of gatorade...

Doggie Time

This Friday I have nothing witty or interesting to say, so I'll just babble about what is foremost on my mind.

You see, we have this fantastic dog-not a pet, really. He's more of a companion, protector, therapist, and heated blanket rolled into one. That is the wonderful-ness we call Scout. He's big (about 120 lbs) and hairy, has the most gentle amber eyes. On the farm we always had one or two just like him rolling around, and they always had the run of the house. They were under the table during dinner, followed us as we did our chores, slept closely by our sides. My childhood pet, Hugo is credited with rescuing me from a vicious neighborhood dog and a possibly rabid woodchuck-I swear. He also took on a few cars head-on and lived to tell the tale. He was a toughie.

It has become natural for me to awake and listen for anything unusual if I hear Scout get up and check the front window in the middle of the night. While I do respect the leash law, it is the dog's primary purpose to protect and alert us to danger-how is this possible if they are confined or not by our side constantly? So its a family habit to have a big lug next to us at all times, like a shadow.

Well, I am reluctant to accept another dog this time, but I know it is for the best. Phil has brought up the subject of bringing the next generation of canine into our house, so that some of the Scout-ness may rub off and be perpetuated. The only way I can be open to this is to think of another big, dumb, gentle giant by my side, so Phil has found the American Mastiff as our next buddy (unless fate steps in like it did with Scout). One look at the photos at the Flying W Farms website, and I saw tiny children with their arms wrapped around these big brutes. I thought about Hugo, and his big ugly face and his gentle nature. We have a long time to wait before the next litter is ready, so I can get used to the idea (and brace myself for a puppy and the chewed shoes, poops and problems they bring), but its still a hard fact to swallow. But maybe Scout will really like being the alpha dog around the house...we'll see.

So sad...

I was driving to work this morning, singing to myself as usual, when I realized that I knew every word to "Blasphemous Rumours."

Now, I have absolutely nothing against Depeche Mode, but I began to wonder what the hell was wrong with me. In my high school years I experienced a serious case of teen angst for some reason, and my behavior included all of the following: listening to angry music such as Fugazi and Operation Ivy, dying my hair with Manic Panic into a furious shade of crimson, briefly dating a strange grim boy who wore combat boots and spoke rarely except to blurt out his love of knives (but he was a wellesley boy, so don't worry, mom and dad!), a brief foray into the fashion world of doc martens and strangely patterned tights that I would scurrilously collect at Harvard Square thrift shops, and a habit of name-dropping characters from literary masterpieces.

I tried to create a brooding dark soul of myself, and probably drove my parents crazy in the process. I even scared the Paysons, my dorm parents, once or twice with a serious crying jag or weeklong silences.

Well, at least now I know how well teenagers can act! What a drama queen-in reality I am nothing like that. Yes, the 17-year old Heather was just railing against the fact that she was bound to be yet another petite and bubbly blonde. I tried as hard as I could, but you just can't deny who you really are. Perky, yup. Exhuberant, yup. Excessively silly, and prone to foot-in-mouth moments? Oh dear god, all the time. Oh well. I said goodbye to the dark, brooding soul a long time ago, and it's only snippets of music that bring those days back. Its just funny that I had to go to such an extreme-especially when never in my life have I ever had anything to be brooding and dark about whatsoever.....

If You Can't Beat Them...

So there you have it- my first football game ever. I was so excited I barely notice how disappointing the first half was. But my wonderful husband, with little to no nagging, brought me to see the Pats play in their season-opener against Buffalo. Right here I caught the kickoff, not bad considering we had seats in the highest section of the stadium. It was amazing enough to see the game from such a phenomenal view. It turned out to be the perfect day, and I have the sunburn to prove it...




We also got there in the morning to tailgate, meet up with all Phil's friends, and have some beer (or in my case, water). I knew this was going to be fun, but really had no clue what a great day it was going to be. We packed some food, drinks and camp chairs and met up with our friends for grilling, good times, and to talk it up before and after the game. (You also have to love knowing the right people in order to get free parking just steps away from the stadium.)

And yes, I brought my knitting. I didn't bring it with me, as checking any type of belongings to a game is a pain in the ***, but there was plenty of time after the game, in between all the good food to catch up on the pea pod set. I finished the body and moved on to the sleeves. Pretty easy, considering I really only spent about a half hour of the day on it, since my hands were usually full of food!


But here's the body, ready for sleeves, collar, and itty bitty buttons. Its so soft and cuddly-I can't wait to finish it. This week I'll be on the hunt for a pullver baby sweater, in a kind of eddie bauer style, something to match what his daddy wears... perhaps in a yummy light brown or taupe so I don't get sick of pastel blue.

With Octoberfest approaching and my favorite Maine brewers announcing their fall and winter specials, i would like to take this moment to step away from knitting (I'm back in stockinette-stitch hell again anyways) and make a quick nod to beer. I was reading Men's Journal last night (I read the men's mags, its true but they have better health tips and fascinating articles than Cosmo. Last month they had a great article about climbing Everest) and was tickled to find the editor-in-chief had reviewed beers across the nation and listed his favorites. This included SmuttyNose IPA from New Hampshire (yummy), and Allagash Interlude (sounds yummy) from Maine.

Your uber-preggie bloghostess is also a beer aficionado, and has three or four times turned her nose up at Boston's Harpoon fest (yuck) in favor of the Maine Brewer's Fest in Portland, and once for the Vermont version. I coasted through the web this morning for the brews I remember the most fondly and came up with the following yummy mix:

Sea Dog had several brews to imbibe, haha. And I often saved them for last, as they favor the fruity, sweet and wheaty flavors that can be hard to tolerate early in the evening. But after a few honey porters, this was always a great chaser. I remember the first sample being passed around our group and being found much to our liking. Of course, there wasn't much we didn't like at that point...


Gritty McDuff's Black Fly Stout. All I can remember is that this beer is bad-ass, and it takes one to drink it. Its like a wave of warm molasses hitting your gullet, and usually requires some time to finish. If I could review this beer in the way I would a wine, I would call it a 'dramatic' beer. Not something you take very lightly.



All of Casco Bay's beer are good for the soul. The red ale or Riptide is no different. I would drink this any day, to cool off and relax, or with a big heavy meal. It wasn't a heavy beer, had no great depth or character to it. Well, some character, but nothing that would linger bitterly on your tongue, like most reds.

Geary's IPA, however, was a pale ale that HAD a lot of character. I have to finish my post with this beer, because whenever I am in doubt, I go with Geary's.

Well, that's it for today. I will return to work and savor my memories from those beer-sloshed autumn nights, where we would cram into a cab like a pack of sardines and wobble down to Gritty's pub for food, more beer, and silly games of Pass the Pigs. The Good ole' days....

Just a pea in the pod...

No way! You can't see any of the details in this picture!

Well, here's the Pea Pod sweater so far, ready to split into the sleeves and neckline as of last night. There are three different patterns here, from the ribbing, the leaf lace, to the seed stitch, so I'm pretty enthralled. No case of knit-boredom this time. (It also helps that this is a teensy-weensy garment!) That baby cashmerino also goes a long way. I'm just finishing up the first skein, with three more waiting in the wings for the matching hat. Perhaps booties too? We'll see..

I'm also shocked at you knit-bloggers for your shameless and reckless behaviors! Who would have thought knit- & spin-enthusiasts could be so wild! Rhinebeck is not too far away, and I'm hearing plans of partying, drinking, and debauchery for the weekend. Damn, looks like I picked the wrong time to be pregnant...

Great Expectations

Yesterday was beautiful. I sat on my back porch for at least an hour watching the sailboats head up to the channel. The day before? Not so good. But I'm new to coastal living, so I still find beauty even on the bad days. These are pictures of the the point on sunday...

I do hope, that all your weekends otherwise were as lovely as mine. I spent plenty of time with Mr., picked up three gallons of paint for the nursery, cleaned out what has previously been called 'the junk room' for the project, and of course skipped down on saturday to the Wool Basket and picked up four skeins of Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino in blue.

I'm already plowing through the pea pod baby set pattern from the Interweave Knits website with its pretty falling leaves lace design, which means I have finally learned how to read a pattern from a chart. Very exciting.

But on a deeper note, I thought a lot about having a little boy, the area we live in, and the kind of people we are. It makes me wonder what he will be like. There are so many factors when you look at parenting, education, and environment. Will he be creative? Will he be a plymouth beach bum? Will he be outgoing, fearless, and social like us? Or will he be more of an introvert-shy, and close to only a select few friends (like I used to be.)

What will he bring to our beach on saturdays? A fishing pole? A surfboard? Or an easel? I do hope he's more interested in fly-fishing than flirting, but I'm getting ahead of myself here. (Please dear God let him be disinterested in teenage girls) But having watched two younger brothers grow into young men, I know that we cannot predict who this little boy will be. It will just have to be another one of our little adventures. I just can't wait to meet him (and thank him for kicking up a storm last night at about 2 AM.)

Why, Thank You!

Yesterday a co-worker greeted me by saying, "Heather, you LOOK pregnant!"

I think that's the nicest thing you could say to me right now...

Today I want to give thanks for the silly things, the basic things, and some of the things that won't even say "you're welcome" back:

1. Thank you for our wonderful midwives, who spend so much time talking to us at every visit, laugh at our ridiculous jokes (fishfinder, Phil?), and listen patiently to our concerns.
2. Thank you for ribs. St Louis style, to be exact. And while I'm at it, thank you to the Little Red Smokehouse in Carver who provided said ribs in great quantities with dirty rice, chili, and paper towels. I'm sure Phil is thanking whomever that his pregnant wife craves ribs and steak tips, rather than banana sandwiches and spinach roll-ups.
2 1/2. Thank you for ribs.
3. Thank you for my wonderful husband, who understands that when I say "I MIGHT like to go to XYZ sometime," I really mean "I want to go to XYZ." You see, my parents raised me like a lady, so in our house there were never any 'I want's. I learned to put it more politely, like a suggestion. It also meant I was rarely disappointed because people do not like demanding children. But anywhooo, Phil heard one of thos suggestions and surprised me with tickets to the Pats, my first game ever, opening game no less! I LOVE YOU, PHIL!
4. Thank you for ribs...uh, I mean thank you for a wonderful job, great friends, and family. Without these things (and Phil of course) I would not feel so secure and happy, and content. Because of these things, you rarely catch me not smiling.
5. Of course, thank you to my brave little brother Evan, who is serving overseas at this time (Email me for his address if you'd like to write or send the soldiers a care package). Thank you for protecting us, just like our brother, my husband, our father, and our grandfathers have done.

Back to knitting. I just spotted a wonderful book on the Interweave site that I might like to have. It includes this adorable sweater, named Kai. Now, Kai is one of those names on my radar, because it pertains to the ocean. The feminine version is "kaia" which would make a lovely middle name, as in 'Lily Kaia Rand.' We are not hawaiian, however, so I think that choice would be met with derision and/or teasing.

That doesn't mean I can't make the sweater! How cute is that?

Fuzzy Feet, Jumping Munchkins and North End Chowin'

I was working away at the sleeves of my sweater last night (well, not really) and enjoying my fuzzy legwarmers when I had a warm, fuzzy moment of reminiscing. Reminiscing usually pertains to thinking of something in the distant past, but in this case I was thinking back to the last wonderful weekend. If I had a mental checklist of the things I love to do the most, I would have all the items checked off by sunday night:

Eating new and interesting foods? ...check
Laughing with good friends? ...check
Playing with my adorable nieces and nephews?...check


The list goes on, but the happy montage playing in my head last night goes a little something like today's post. Silly moments, like watching my husband pig-pile with Casey and Cassandra with little Alexandra wobbling her way over to join in. Laughing as we pretended to make the big announcement while my mother was rushing up the driveway, an adorable pout on her face.

Chasing around the North End band on a friday night, trying to spot the statue of St. Anthony in the crowd. Looking quizzically at a ball of food called arrancini, daring one another to try it first.

People-watching from the window at Carmen's, my fave little restaurant in the north end, where you can sample great wines while nibbling on sauteed sweet red peppers, olives, and marinated fiddleheads.


When all is said and done, I am entirely exhausted from the last weekend, but happily so. Its fortunate that in three days I could spend time alone with Phil (and most of the Boston italian community), time with friends, and plenty of time with our family. Could I do it again next weekend?

I don't think so!

Boy boy boy!

Its public- we're having a little boy! I couldn't possibly be any happier. We broke the news to our family last night at Phil's birthday party, in writing, on a cake. It was hard to keep the secret that long, but we did it. Everyone was happy, especially my brother who seemed to just love talking about his soon-to-be nephew. It was also great to have my entire family around (sans Evan..) for one evening. Phil was glowing, but then again it might have been my super homemade sangria...


My niece Alexandra celebrated by showering us with baby kisses.

Backtrack to saturday-I really have to mention the beautiful wedding we attended for another of my Fab 5 buddies. It was made even more fantastic by the company we kept- our close friends, and the men that were by my husband's side while he served in Iraq. Noreen and Mike had a simply justice of the peace ceremony two years ago, as their wedding plans were cancelled by Mike's impending deployment. I am so pleased they were finally able to celebrate their marriage and have a huge reception for friends and family. But what reception would be complete without bumping into an old classmate from those awkward jr. high years? Oh yes, the pleasure was NOT mine when I was recognized by Colleen, a former teammate of the soccer team, and member of the popular/cheerleader clique back in 1988.

Very awkward, especially when I noted a severe communication problem between us. She had trouble understanding me, I guess, and I could not tell whether it was due to the speakers behind us or the fact that she was completely wasted.

A Basketcase

Before I begin, Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband! I hope he has a fantastic birthday weekend-beginning with some fun tonight in the North End at the St. Anthony's Feast and culiminating in a bit o' cake and ice cream on sunday with the entire fam-damily. I love you honey!

My house is being taken over by baskets. It appears that I cannot drive/walk past a HomeGoods, Christmas Tree Shop, or even Pier1 without saying "OOH! That basket would be perfect for my (yarn, shoes, bathroom closet, husband's collection of baseball hats, empty wine bottles...)!"

I was talking to Phil, in fact, about women and our predilection for hobbies that require collecting massive amounts of supplies. In quilting, for instance, I'm always keeping my eyes open for interesting fabrics to give Blogless Sharon in her Christmas stocking, regardless of what projects she has already. In any craft or hobby we acquire, women need space. Space for supplies, space for the completed works, space for just working on the not-yet-completed works. Phil calls us 'hoarders' and I explain to him after every trip to the LYS how I carefully controlled my urge to buy six skeins of baby alpaca for which I may not have any purpose for years to come. Meanwhile, I have stashed 2 skeins of yummy merino or angora blend hidden under the bed...

Luckily, baskets are quite pretty, and yarn is darn cute too when artfully arranged in said basket like a bowl of round fuzzy fruit.

(Well, you might have hoped I could tell you what Phil and I are having after our ultrasound last night. And I can. But I won't. Not until we break the news to our families on sunday! I can tell you, however, that the little babe is quite healthy and active, has ten fingers and ten toes, and has a MUCH better profile than before!)

What Would Your Mother Say?!

Super-pumpkin ankle warmers are almost done, but most importantly, today is THE BIG DAY. Possibly. Hopefully. Mr & I finally get to see another ultrasound, and hopefully our little one looks a little more human than last time. I'm still a bit creeped out from the first peek we had, when our little guy/gal looked like a strange cross between Abe Lincoln and an alien. Eww.

So until then, I am on pins and needles all day. Even the blur of work to be done this morning isn't helping much. When will 3:30 get here, dammit?

Well, yesterday I was driving to work and saw this van next to me. Normally at 7AM I am too sleepy to read, but somehow the word 'erection' caught my eye. Now who would do such a thing? Sure its funny, but so crude. The ironic part, is that this wonderful slogan was last seen cruising into D-el-uxbury.

Belly Up!

Finally, Blogger decides to cooperate and allow me to post some photos!

Behold the wool blend I picked up over the weekend! I'm already halfway through it, making some frivolous leg-warmers. This color made me so happy, I had to have it, even though its 45% acrylic. Yet another purchase we can blame on the hormones. There's no cute name for the dye lot, so I call this color 'happy pumpkin' and am certain the leg-warmers will keep me toasty this fall....

Luckily, my LYS had a few skeins of the Miracle left, so I don't have to cheat on the sleeves of my dreaded sweater. But that's another tale for another day.

Since time is just a-flyin' and the belly is starting to show, I thought it might be funny to track the progress and measure it month-by-month. Keep in mind, this is not any attempt to boast, but more my coping mechanism for dealing with the MASSIVE change to the one part of my body that has always been under my control-my stomach. I'll admit that my upper arms, legs and thighs have been a different story. They seem to do what they want, despite my darndest efforts at strict dietary discipline and a nearly abusive weekly sculpting class at the gym. But my stomach has always complied, and its with the greatest effort that I have been able to resign myself to the fact that it will be the most prominent part of my body for a very long time! ACK! Double ACK! But with a good sense of humor, I find I don't really care anymore-its nothing I can control, and who knows if it will ever be the same. And who really cares?! I'm 32 dammit, and I should have more important things on my mind and my self-image should be reflective more of my personality and interests, rather than how skinny I can be.

How did it get this bad? How did I get to be so shallow? Was it from reading too many magazines? Watching too much MTV? Too many episodes of Top Model?

Not at all. It's simply that these things had never been put in perspective before. In truth, I was vain. Self-centered, my body consciousness weighed in far above the things that truly matter. Well, it feels fantastic to let that flawed thinking go. To just give in to such an important event. It's about time, my father would say. So here's to shaking the tree- changing up things, taking an unexpected route, and the many adventures that life brings. I just can't wait to see what happens next!

Oh, and the belly wasn't really big enough to brag about yet. Just 32 inches, but I know I'll be poppin' any day now. So we'll consider that the starting point.

Mean Girls

(Blogger stinks today, so this comes to you without photos)

What do you get when you hire a bunch of attorneys and legal assistants fresh out of college? A very cruel and catty staff. This was the kind of atmosphere our office had over a year ago. I can certainly say that I was never a part of this problem. I can also say that I kept a wide berth from those I suspected to be particularly cruel. Let's face it-you KNOW who they are. You know by the way they look at you, or the insincere expressions on their faces when you or others speak.

Our particularly worst crew would gather every friday at a local watering hole after work, never really inviting outsiders unless they needed fuel or fodder for gossip later. The female leader of this group once bragged that she invited one particular co-worker along so they could ask her questions and laugh about her answers later. They spread rumors that our supervisors were involved in sordid affairs, and hinted that those in power came to their positions by blackmail. If you disagreed or reported them to the administration, you were taunted and called a 'traitor.' One newcomer who did this lasted barely three months, fled the company, and as far as I know quit her pursuits in the field of law immediately. Those members of the malicious crew rejoiced in her downfall. I know this sounds ridiculous for a bunch of adults, but it is true. I like to think I was overlooked by this group, but of course that isn't the case.

The good thing about gossips is that they are weak and shallow. Their loyalties equally so. So when the group split and went their own professional ways, the remaining people involved slowly disseminate the rumors, until we were all fully aware of what things were said against us. Apparently, my 'flashiness' was not overlooked, and the female leader of this group was fond of pointing it out. I learned that I was ridiculed to this point, and nicknamed 'sashay'...perhaps because of my flair? Or do I resemble a bag of lavender you would toss in a dresser drawer? I don't know-I don't really get it, so I doubt it really amused them for long.

In honor of these nasty people, I dedicate my aquisition from this weekend: bright pumpkin wool. Currently be used in the creation of legwarmers that will secretly be worn under my dress pants at work and keep me toasty. When I think of those mean people, I might even let them show a little.

Dilemna

So I have one nearly finished sweater-just two short ribbed sleeves to go. This could be a 1 hour jobbie and then voila...FO. Just one problem-I'm procrastinating. Not sure why. It could be due to the shortage of yarn. I am down to 2/3rds of a skein, and no scale handy to ensure I have allowed enough for both sleeves. But that could be fixed easily with one trip to the store and a quick purchase of a kitchen scale. Nope. It could be easy-in fact I could have finished tuesday. Instead I am more comfortable staring at the sweater on my coffeetable for a few days, savoring the chance to watch Project Runway (Alison's gone? Nooo!!) with my hands free.

Is it self-doubt? After all, the majority of sewing projects I have completed have resulted in nothing better than a few tank tops and dresses that would suit me better as nightgowns. Will my knitting be the same? Will I be forced to find a creative use for knitting as I find myself afraid to wear my FO's in public? Am I afraid that after all this work this lovely sweater may be relegated to the bottom of my sweater pile?



Behold bunnies: just to cheer you up. It works for me.

Why hasn't anyone thought of this yet?

Late Night knit shop? When you just can't face that never-ending project, but all other shops are closed...

Someone needs to look into this...

Peaches

I'm back, and cheery as ever, thanks to the wonderful preggie hormones surging through me, and my lovely friends known as the fab 5. Christie orchestrated a little field trip to Nashoba Valley Winery last weekend, and as luck may have it, it's also the season for peaches.

Jen, Noreen, Christie and I took the quick hop down 495 on saturday, most excited because it was the perfect day. We had a fantastic lunch, and the girls sampled some wines with thir meal. Then it was off for a tour of the winery and a tasting of course. But my favorite part was picking peaches in the orchard. Don't ask me why, but I had decided to dress rather Zsa-Zsa-esque, but it could be because I feel able to get away with anything now that I'm preggo.

And I have to include a picture of my nearly finished sweater- the hazy weather of the past few weeks really slowed me down. The last thing I wanted to do in that heat was touch softy and warm Alpaca-I was happier with a glass of soda water and lime over ice in my hands. Poor Phil began begging for an air-conditioner again. And Scout? Well, he did his best impersonation of a rug for about four days, with only breaks for eating.

These crisp nights have allowed me to return to the project, and I'm hoping to have it done by the 24th. This would be the wondrous date we possibly find out whether we're having a Phil jr or Heather jr....

Bad Girl!

I know I know.. I was an absentee blogger last week. This morning I woke up with a blog-idea in my head, BUT I forgot the cable for my camera, so it will have to wait until tomorrow. Until then, here are my excuses for being blogless. Pick whichever you prefer:

* The alien growing in my belly inhibits my ability to think creatively.
* I was, without warning, promoted to a new position (without adequate compensation I must add) and I've been too darn busy to do the things I enjoy.
* Little bro' Evan was deployed to god-knows-where last tuesday, and it was a somber week to say the least. You wouldn't need a downer of a post, would you?
* The gypsies came and took me away to their little camp in the moutains.
* Mom and Dad went to Sturgiss, SD for bike week and I've spent every waking moment watching the news in case they get into some kind of trouble, those crazy kids.
* I ate pita chips until I fell into a happy chip- and hummus- induced sleep for several days.
* Four words: Back to School Sales.
* Inspired by the Rick Springfield/Eddie Money concert I saw on thursday I decided to quit my job and become a Journey groupie. (Sept 23rd!!!!!)

See you tomorrow with some crazy pictures of peaches, and that sweater I love to hate.

I Know it When I Get Hooked..

...on a new hobby, that is. This weekend we went to Winter Island in Salem to participate in the bassfishing shootout I talked about last week. It was more of a kayak retreat for me. Based on the tides, the participants were constantly on the water, silently trolling for bass and blues (no luck on the latter.)

Crawling out of the tent at 6AM, sliding quietly into the water for a relaxing 5-hour paddle, startling a school of MAAD pogies, this was the epitome of fun. I think the other wives and girlfriends I met were very sweet, but SHAME on you ladies for staying earthbound with a chance like this!

I am impressed with the New England Kayak Fishing crew for many things-first, I just love the guys. They were welcoming, warm and friendly; not the slightest bit intimidating. They were also organized-the competition ran without a hitch, with members coming from as far as Connecticut to compete. They were great sportsmen, and should give kayak fishermen a good name. At the culmination of the event, the winners were presented with plaques, and due to increasing sponsorship, every participant won a prize in the raffle. One lucky fella walked away with this:

A Prowler, donated by Ocean Kayak. I was jealous. By this time I had decided to 'get on the boat' and try it out for myself-there's still plenty of time in this season to get started, after all.

Saturday evening we slid into the water as the sun had just set, me in my sturdy (non-fishing) craft and about 8 others in their shmancy equipped sit-on-top Prowlers and Tarpons, hoping to catch some post-contest action along the rocks by Salem Willows. As the moon rose and the water became jet black I briefly regretted watching too much of Discovery Channel during Shark Week.... As the guys dropped their bait, we quietly paddled in a broken line between the boats at rest in the harbor, each kayak distinguishable by a tiny beacon.

Now where's that Cabela's catalog?

If you happen to read any of the major Boston-area newspapers on December 19, 2005 you might remember this picture.

I keep a copy in my desk and look at it from time to time. It marks the end of one of the greatest challenges of my life; being separated from my husband for 18 months and facing the fear of him being hurt in combat.

My husband is a member of the Massachusett's National Guard, and had volunteered the previously year to join a unit being sent to Iraq. Our family waited patiently for his return, amidst stories of mortar & rocket attacks, long days of convoys, and long periods of time where we were unable to hear from or speak to him.

When he emerged from the bus after this ordeal I was waiting in the cold december morning air, freezing because I was determined to look adorable rather than warm for our first reunion since his 2-week leave. We held onto each other for sooo long, and I can still feel that rush of joy when I see him every day. I just want to share this so you can say you personally know someone who has served in combat, or someone who's most loved one has served. This sacrifice that my husband made has changed our lives profoundly. I do not look at even the simplest things without feel grateful that we have just another day together.

I can't say that I'll never let go of him again-our country needs men like Phil, and I knew this was his calling from the very beginning. No doubt the choices he makes in his future career will always be determined by how much he could possibly serve the community domestically or overseas (most likely the latter). But I can say that I will ALWAYS treasure the love that we have, and be grateful that we were granted by the grace of God more time together.

And of course, I finally was ready to have children.

I Caught You a Delicious Bass...

Woohoo! Two more days before the New England Kayak Fishing Mass Bay Striper shootout in Salem, MA!

Hanging Up The Dancing Shoes

My friends are loads of fun- they take kayak crash-courses with me, venture into new types of restaurants and experience mouth-blazing spicy food with me. They dress up like crazy people on Halloween nights, and try all sorts of different hobbies with me. Much more than just your average partying/drinking crowd.

Last year we began going to a salsa club every week, learning to dance. Despite having two left feet, I had a great time. To be honest, its not too scary. If you have a great lead, you can fool anyone into thinking you have some latina in your blood. It involves a lot of hip movement, but when everyone else is shakin' it, you don't feel so auspicious.

I organized a get-together among my friends for a salsa cruise in Boston last sunday, after a long break from the nightclub routine of last summer. It seemed like a lot of fun would be had by all, but unfortunately I just wasn't able to get my butt on that boat. It turns out, salsa-burnout is hard to overcome. As I was standing next to The Landing a smirking man oozed by me, and wickedly said "I hope you're coming on the cruise, because I really want to dance with you." He had the charisma of an encyclopedia salesman, but apprently the skin-tight shirt he was wearing gave him some sort of superpower, or the ability to outsleeze every woman in sight with the simplest glance. My skin crawled. I looked fervently towards the sidewalk for my friends. I begged myself to be strong and forget the smarmy sound of his voice.

Unfortunately, I've just lost that lovin' feeling for the dance. It's time to hang up the salsa shoes.

With the new preggie-bod I may be well suited for bellydancing, though. And I know exactly who would like to try it with me. :)

And the Winners Are...

Back to the Barnstable County Fair! I took some snapshots of the winning skeins and projects. Maybe you could say I was just scoping out the competition....Talk about yummy- and great uniformity. I do have to say, however, that most of the work I've seen from the blogcrew would win by a more-than-safe margin. Here's the blue-ribbon and red-ribbon finalists in the woolly bear category (of course I just made that up.) I thought they were just lovely, but of course that's because they were in their natural shades, which are my favorite.Then they had some adorable blankets and sweaters. Again, I say we could all offer some serious competition...

Tomorrow perhaps I'll give you a peek at my favorite quilts from the fair...