The Crochet Nanny

Day Seventeen, January 22nd, 2010

2010-02-08T16:32:00.000-08:00

Today was an amazingly happy day. I picked up Chinese Food for my favorite cousin and we celebrated her birthday together while she was babysitting her grandchildren. She will kill me if I tell you how old she is, but let me say that it is the beginning of a decade that has the same number in it as the year I was married, which is 1972. So you can safely guess that she isn't one or two, so that leaves just two options! Anyway, her granddaughter made us super special iced coffees that she especially created at her job at Dunkin Donuts and they were beyond awesome. She has her own secret formula and customers ask for her just so that she can make it for them. Some of the ingredients are extra caramel and heavy cream, don't ask about the calories. From there I headed to historic Gibbsboro for my grandson Damien's first penance. (On the way, I made a little detour but will save that for another time). Damien was really nervous about his First Penance, but after a very lovely play, video, sing a long, and church service the children got to pick their priest, either one behind the traditional closed confessional, or face to face. Damien chose the Pastor, a very kindly looking man with a thick Irish Brogue, who was hearing confessions face to face behind a glass door. He was the next to last to go, and his parents watched very curiously on the other side of the door as he celebrated this important sacrament. When he came out, he was beaming, and professed that it wasn't bad at all. I asked him how it felt to have a clean soul, but he said it didn't feel any different. The children all looked so cheerful that for a moment I even thought about perhaps going to confession myself. Not quite ready for that yet, the trauma of the stern priest at Sacred Heart Church in Jersey City, in 1963 asking me, "is that all" in his booming mean voice just hasn't left me yet. Thank goodness things are different in many ways, and seeing the peaceful joy on Damien's face was the happiest part of today.

Day Sixteen, January 21st, 2010

2010-01-22T06:25:00.000-08:00

I admit it, I am addicted. I have wasted more time playing this game than I will ever own up to. I sneak a few games in before work, and as soon as I get home, play a few. I keep telling myself, it's only one minute, in fact the guy in the computer says One Minute when the game starts, so I am really not wasting a lot of time. Except I keep clicking play, after one minute, and one minute becomes 40 minutes. My goal is to not be embarrassed by my score. I see all my friends with these awesomes scores, like in the 100,000 and 200,000 range. I have even messaged them on Facebook, and asked for their secret. Shannon's mom Janet is always on the top. I asked Shannon, and she said, I don't know, but she is always playing it. I asked my soninlaw who worked at Ubisoft in Romania, he said it has to do with the cascades, you have to form cascades. My friend Janet had a very detailed three point explanation involving hypercubes and flaming gems and stuff like that. Joanne F told me that you just have to keep moving your mouse and when you see a cluster click on it. She offered to come over and show me how to do it. That would be pretty lame. So each day I attempt to get a high score, I try cascading, I try the three point theory explained by Janet, I try just playing the game over and over like Shannon's mom, and I tried just moving the mouse around really quick like Joanne suggested. Today, I tried turning the sound off. That was hard, I like the sound. I like when the man in the computer says, Awesome, or Excellent, or Good. It is reassuring that I am doing something right. Plus the sound of the explosions is really cool! But the downside is that you get that annoying beeping kind of sound that tells you your time is almost up. That is a lot of pressure, because I then realize what a loser I really am when I see the puny score that I have achieved. But then something phenomenally awesome happened. My time was up and my score was 179,000. How could that happen, I have no idea what I did! But I am #2, right under Shannon's mom. I can't believe it, this is the most exciting thing that has happened today. This is the highest score I have ever achieved. Only thing is, I have no idea how I did it! Gotta go, I have three minutes till I have to catch the dryer., maybe I can beat my own score!

Day Fifteen, January 20th, 2010

2010-01-20T17:18:00.000-08:00

Wow, I have been looking forward to today! My precious niece and godchild, Katie, and her brother, my amazing nephew, Tommy, drove down to my office to have lunch with me today. Katie lives in South Orange where she is taking her final class for her masters degree. Tommy lives in Illinois with the rest of the Sheldons and was here for the week to visit his sister. I was so touched and honored that they wanted to spend some time with their old aunt!~ We used to spend so much time together when they were little. They lived in Jackson and I saw them every week at church, every Sunday after church for bagels, and several times during the week too. Ten years ago, my brother took a job in Illinois and took all the precious little Sheldons with him too. I think it has to be about two years since I have seen Tommy and last summer for Katie. I was so impressed at how beautiful, sophisticated, mature and grown up they are. What a wonderful lunch, with great conversation. I was just in awe at these amazing adults that just not too long ago were little babies. How did that happen! It was so hard to say goodbye to them after lunch, I miss them so much and love them so dearly. Katie and Tommy thanks for the joy you brought to my day!

Day Fourteen, January 19th, 2010

2010-01-20T16:47:00.000-08:00

My friend Joanne has to be the luckiest lady in the world because her awesome mom, Sara, lives with her part of the time and part of the time with her sister. When she is at Joanne's house, she usually has her cobbler apron on and is always cooking something delicious. (That's Sara in the picture, dancing at my daughter's wedding!)Joanne wanted me to come over and take some pictures of her upstairs with my digital camera because her fatherinlaw just moved in and is contemplating moving upstairs and he wanted to see what it looked like. She emailed me at work to see if tonight would be good, and also, said, why don't you come to eat, my mom is cooking sausage and peppers. You didn't have to ask me twice! When I got to Joannes (a long walk across the street!), her mom had everything set up and served me too! She made her delicious sausages with three different colored peppers, baked sweet potatoes, and pasta with butter. She also had a great salad with oil and vinegar (what else) and Italian bread. You know, the kind that is crunchy on the outside and soft in the inside. What a treat! I never knew my grandmothers, they died before I was born. Being at Sara's tonight, I felt like a little girl must feel in her grandmother's kitchen. Great smells, delicious foods, and extra big ladles of love. Thanks Sara~!

Day Thirteen, January 18th, 2010

2010-01-20T16:38:00.000-08:00

What's better than getting an order on your etsy shop! Buying the yarn with a 50% off one regular price item at AC Moore! I printed out the coupon, cut it out and raced to AC Moore. There is was, my Boucle Bernat yarn, sole ingredient for my own creation, my dark baby cocoon, regular price $3.99, use of 50% off coupon, cha ching, $1.99!!! Plus it counted toward my AC Moore Awards! I love AC Moore, I love yarn, I love a bargain! Good day for happy!!!

Day Twelve, January 17th, 2010

2010-01-18T20:18:00.000-08:00

My husband cracks me up. Now that we are empty nesters, he has gotten used to having all my attention devoted to him! Poor man, he waited 38 years for the last little bird to leave the nest so he could jump back in his spot! Very patient so he is. Well, today, we were planning a big exciting trip to Lowes when my daughter called. I was chit chatting for a while and he was kind of giving me "the look" like he wanted me to get off the phone. I said, you can go without me if you want. I knew what his answer would be, because these days he doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything without me. He says he is lonely and he misses me! Hey, we even moved the computer back upstairs so I can be a little closer to him while I am playing bejeweled blitz and tracking everyone's updates on Facebook. I told my daughter I better go because Dad gets lonely and wants me to go with him to the store. He said, "yea, your mother is my arm candy!" Arm Candy! I am still laughing!!!

Day Eleven, January 16th, 2010

2010-01-17T07:07:00.000-08:00

When I tried to evaluate the joy quotient for today, I found a thread that ran through the whole day, neighbors that have become life long friends. I have lived in my house for almost 32 years, and forged friendships with other young moms, that have lasted to this day. Anna, Peggy, Kathy, Ronnie, Janet, and Sandy moved on, Cathy and Frances passed away much too young, but from the old crew, Joanne F, Bonnie and Pat and I remain. Newer neighbors just as dear are Sharon and her mom, Johanna, Joanne W, Renee, Julie and Julia. Today I rode with Joanne F to the wake for Julia's daughter who died after a courageous battle with cystic fibrosis. Before we left, Sharon and Johanna offered a ride as well. In the parking lot, Joanne and I met up with Pat and her daughter Lisa. I drove Pat to the hospital when she was in labor with Lisa with the emergency brake on all the way, a fact that we love to laugh about to this day. Pat's daughter Lori was on her way down from NY with her new baby, Victoria, and I hoped to stop by to give her a little cuddle. When I got home my husband told me that my daughter had called and was meeting up with her old friends from the neighborhood, Melissa, Jessica and Colleen and before going out for dinner she would stop by. The friends grouped at my house and the little girls now have babies of their own. My grandson didn't want to go out to dinner with the girls and the babies since his bestest friend from when he lived with us in our neighborhood was over to play. So Rebecca and Damien hung out, ate dinner, made cookies and explored my junk room with their hard hats. Rebecca was proud to tell my daughter's friends that Damien was her oldest and best friend, that they had been friends since they were three. Damien corrected her and said, no Rebecca, I think since we were two. Big seven year olds with a lifetime friendship. Just like me and my good neighbors, just like my daughter and her neighborhood pals. Someone once wrote that you can't go home again, in our neighborhood, that just isn't so, it will always be home and always be the place where lifelong friendships are formed and last. And that thought is what brought me joy today.

Day Ten, January 15th, 2010

2010-01-16T06:31:00.000-08:00

Todays joy is not mine, but belongs to my cousin, Kevin O'Brien. Kevin O'Brien is the ultimate Jets fan. Hey, his email address is KevOJet! (That's Kevin on the far right in his Jets uniform with his buddies!) I know absolutely nothing about football. My husband has tried to explain it to me hundreds of times, I must be dense. I can understand every aspect of baseball, but football floors me. Anyway, the last few days or so I have been noticing a lot of excited posts from Kevin on Facebook about the Jets. He usually posts about his tailgate parties and if you look at his photos, there are some delicious looking foods that he makes at those shindigs. Kevin is in San Diego now for a Jets game. My husband tells me it is an important one, and I am guessing for a Jets fan this game pushes excitement to the top of the meter. Even more awesome is that my cousin, Susan, Kevin's sister, just happens to be in San Diego too for a nurses conference. My husband tells me the Jets have been waiting a long time to get back into the SuperBowl, and I think this game has something to do with that. I just realized that Joe Nameth played for the Jets, and I guess he was around the last time they won a Super Bowl which was in 1969 or something like that. (Boy I am football ignorant!) Anyway, today's joy is for my cousin Kevin, he is a great guy, and a devoted Jets fan, and if they win this game in San Diego, I don't think there is a camera with a wide enough lens to capture his smile! Kevin, enjoy the game, and if they win, you can have a sit down with me and explain the game of football - Jets Style!

Day Nine, January 14th, 2009

2010-01-14T19:45:00.000-08:00

This has been a tough day. Not much to be happy about. It started off a little good when Nancy brought in Dunkin Donuts. She used a gift certificate that she got and treated the office. I asked her whose birthday it was, but there was no reason, just being nice, which Nancy always is. Turns out it was someone's birthday, Cathy D., but I didn't know that when the donuts came. I had a half of a blueberry one and those little crunchy sugar crystals on top made me pretty happy, or as happy as you can be at work on the day you get your paycheck with the new health insurance premium amount deducted. Yikes, there were a lot of gasps and tears when that happened. Nancy brought me a tissue, that was nice of Nancy. Maybe that's why she brought in the donuts, she knew we would need some cheering up. So on the way home, I was thinking that was probably going to be the only joyful thing that happened today, but there was another one coming, probably equal in joy to the donuts. This one like the other day, came in the mailbox. Grabbing in the dark I felt a small package, something the size of the box of checks you get from the bank. But this was a little soft and squooshy. So I saw the return address and it was from my sisterinlaw's daughter, I guess that would be my niece, its a little complicated, you see, oh well, let's just say she is my niece, Donna. She had emailed me a few weeks ago to ask me if I got the new Ann Rule book yet. I introduced her to Ann Rule and she is hooked, just like me. Ann Rule is probably the best true crime author out there. She wrote the Stranger Beside Me about Ted Bundy, who unbelievably she knew personally when she was a Seattle policewoman. In better times, I would rush to buy her newest book in hard cover, as soon as it came out, but these days we are all watching our pennies. When I told Donna that I hadn't read it yet, she said, I will send you mine. And that was what was in the mailbox today. Donna hasn't had it easy, she lives with many medical problems, a tracheotomy, and has lost two siblings in the last year. I was really touched that she sent me her book, and I have to remember to pay that forward. So a low joy day, but joyful nonetheless because two very nice people shared. Thanks Nancy and Donna.

Day Eight, January 13th, 2010

2010-01-13T20:04:00.001-08:00

I have been looking forward to today for quite a while. My grandson, Damien, entered his first science fair. Tonight was the actual event and I asked to leave work a half hour early so I could get there in time. The judging of each project was done and the doors were set to open at 7:15 for the public viewing and presentation of awards. Damien was right in the front, at the first table, and he was beaming. He demonstrated his project, which was static electricity and gathered quite a little crowd. His favorite example was rubbing a balloon on his head so that his hair would stand up. He did such a good job that the balloon stuck onto his head! After viewing all the projects, which were awesome, it was time for the judging. Each child got a nice plaque, a certificate and a green ribbon. Damien was the only entrant in the second grade, so he easily won first place for the second grade with a nice certificate and blue ribbon. The other grades were presented with their winners and it was time for the overall prizes. Damien won fourth prize overall! He looped all three award ribbons around his wrist! It was a great evening, and I am so proud of Damien! He worked very hard on his project and presented it beautifully. He also had a very good grasp of the science behind static electricity. Just before I left, he was telling us that next year he wants to do a project about the earth's natural resources! When did he get so big! Good job Damien, you were the happiest part of the day!

Day Seven, January 12th, 2010

2010-01-12T16:11:00.000-08:00

Letters, we get letters! When I got home from work today, in the dark, carrying four plastic shopping bags on one arm, and juggling my purse and lunch bag in the other, I jabbed the mailbox open with one elbow, grabbed the mail, tucked it under my arm and tripped through the front door. Feeling the urgency of that 5:00 cup of coffee, I almost didn't take the time to look at the mail. But when I threw it on the table, the first upright envelope had the familiar handwriting of my cousin. I have been waiting for this letter for about six months. I tore open the envelope and carefully unfolded the single yellow legal page crammed front and back with his combination of cursive and printing, blue ink, familiar style. We have had quite a correspondence going for the past several years, often exchanging letters weekly. I have them all saved, in a box, in their envelopes. Life got busy for me, although it rarely changes for him, and slowly the weeks became months, and for a reason that I know very well, he has not answered many of my last letters. He apologized for that, but I know that for him there has been little joy and little reason to seek the door to happiness which opens out, even if that door doesn't really let you out of anything but your mind. But for me today, his letter, that I can fold and unfold, read and re-read,was my moment of joy, and I hope for him it was the beginning of rediscovering joy. Gotta go, I owe my cousin a letter!

Day Six, January 11th, 2010

2010-01-12T16:04:00.000-08:00

There is nothing joyful about Mondays. When I was a kid, it would start with the Ed Sullivan show. You knew it was Sunday night and that the fun was over. Monday's are hard, but then I guess if we had Monday's off, Tuesday's would be hard. The common denominator is work, but as someone once said, if it was fun, it would be called fun, thus it is called work. So before even getting out of bed I knew it was going to be tough to kill the gloom today. What could there possibly be to bring joy to the day. Getting to work, I blew off the music. Yea, that did make me pretty happy the first day, but I was being a pollyanna then. This little project is not even a week old and I am out of joy. So I scanned my email, and realized that I had forwarded to myself at work the pictures from my camera taken on Christmas. I opened them, and shuffled through and came across this one of my adorable baby grandson, Marcus. Immediate warmth and joy flooded me. What can be more joyful than a baby's first Christmas. So I kept looking at it throughout the day, restoking the joy fire with that little face.

Day Five, January 10th, 2010

2010-01-12T15:54:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, shortly after posting about my discovery of the magnetic wand, my husband noticed that my computer was "doing that thing again". This is going to be hard to describe, but try to picture this. You are trying to read The Guttenberg Bible, on a roller coaster, with a hangover and vertigo, each time you think you have focused on the words, the roller coaster dips and dives and you have an extreme case of the hiccups. The words start spinning and rolling, portions are light, portions are dark, and flash across the screen like bolts of lightning. I knew I was in trouble. So being totally non technical, I switched the surge protector on and off a couple of times, played with all the connections, plugged and unplugged stuff and then started to panic. I was having flashbacks to a year or so ago when I lost 3,000 plus pictures when my hard drive crashed. I thought maybe if I let it rest, it would feel better in the morning. I got up on Sunday, went to 7:00 a.m., Mass and after communion, I am ashamed to say, prayed for my computer. When I got home, I realized God was busy with other problems, real problems. I went on my husband's computer thinking maybe I could troubleshoot by googling a description of what the computer was doing and that brought me to the Dell website and a phone number for technical support. Okay, hope springs again. I grabbed the phone and dialed the number and after all the appropriate prompts and holds, I hear a voice that I immediately recognize as based in Mumbai. My heart sank. If you have ever had the fun of dealing with an outsourced call center in India, no explanation is needed . So we begin and I attempt to follow all the directions, but I have to tell you the accent is making it hard to understand. He starts saying something like forty dead leafy walnut trees, or more clay lace currants please. He keeps repeating, I just can't make it out. I handed the phone to my husband and all of a sudden, his face is beaming. Four days left on warranty! The computer is still under warranty for four more days! They will send someone out to fix it and it is all covered under our warranty. Yippee the joyful moment of the day!

Day Four, January 9th, 2010

2010-01-09T15:24:00.001-08:00

Quiet day, hubby off to work for half the day, and a long put off project started, tackling my messy craft room. And I do mean messy, it could qualify for an episode of Hoarders. If the police came to my house they would think I was robbed, with my craft room totally ransacked. Try to picture it: A volcanic explosion of yarn, scrapbooking papers swirled and tossed as if they were in Hurricane Andrew, fabric everywhere, buttons and pins and needles and hooks and looms look like they were shot out of a Ringling Brothers Cannon. There is no order to this disorder, and that is mostly the reason I have been putting it off so long. It is downstairs, I can shut the door. If I have to get some yarn, I tie a rope around my waist, anchor the rope around the drain pipe for the washer and dive in. I leave post its with pleas to come look for me if I don't return in one hour. It is bad. Embarrasingly bad. So I was able to clear a small portion of the floor in about two foot increments so that I could put one foot in at a time through the clutter. Then I saw it, the sewing basket filled with pins and needles, open and upside down. I grabbed the handle and they sprayed the room, landing some up, some down. This is not going to be good. I started picking up the pins, I felt like St. Theresa, one by one picking them up. I know I have not been so good, but this much penance I don't need. And then I had an Aunt Alice moment. Bingo! Bingo! It was so easy to find it, Aunt Alice's old red plastic container with the magnetic bingo chips and the MAGNETIC BINGO RETRIEVAL WAND!! Tethered by the rope, balancing in the footholds, I whipped it out and swirled like a maestro! The pins were defenseless, drawn like moths to the light, bees to the honey, metal to a magnet, well you get the picture. I scooped them up, and into the trash they went. And that was the most joyful moment of the day!

Day 3, January 8th, 2010

2010-01-08T08:44:00.001-08:00

Today's post is early and a no brainer! Lots of smiles here today! 30 years ago, at this moment I was in the labor room at the now closed Pt.Pleasant Beach Hospital awaiting the birth of my daughter! The trend of the day was natural childbirth, and by that I mean no drugs! I hee hee'd so hard I hyperventilated. I heard the doctor tell my husband, encourage her not to take any drugs! I told the nurse I had to push, and she patted my hand and said now now, the doctor just checked you, you have a long time to go! She took a look and screamed, delivery room now. My husband who said he wasn't going to watch, ran behind us, and we barely made it there. The baby was screaming before she was even delivered!!! The doctor was holding her and kept putting his finger in her mouth so she would stop crying! He finally said, don't you want to know what it is! Those days, we didn't know until the baby arrived, we were so excited, we forgot to ask! It was a girl, my precious adorable daughter, Lauren Nicole! What a wonderful 30 years it has been, and it only gets better! And she has blessed us with two beautiful grandsons! Happy Birthday Lauren, thanks for 30 years of joy!

Day Two, January 7th, 2010

2010-01-07T17:18:00.001-08:00

The best part of today came before lunch when my buddy Lisa Fusco opened her desk drawer, shuffled through her snack stash and pulled out a ziplock bag with two of her famous cookies in it, and said "Want one?". There is not a chocolate chip cookie in the entire state or country for that fact that rivals Lisa's. It is her signature, her trademark. Every birthday boy or girl is the recipient of their own private batch, and some people, like Lou, don't even need a reason to get this very sought after prize. And this is not just my opinion, hands down, hers are the best. We try to pry the secret out of her, and she says, well maybe it is the dark brown sugar I use, or maybe it is the butter not margarine, or maybe it is the pan. I think it is that she puts her heart and soul into every morsel knowing how much joy each cookie brings. Eyes brighten, mouths water, you just have to experience it once in your life. Pure cookie joy, crisp bottom, soft inside, gooey chocolate chips, each bite dissolves slowly in your mouth as sacred as a first communion wafer. Pure joy, pure happiness, it doesn't get any better than Lisa's chocolate chip cookies.

Day One, Choosing to be Happy!

2010-01-06T20:45:00.000-08:00

January 6th, 2010

Music. Today, I decided to turn on the music on my computer. I have not had it on for months. I always used to play classical music while I was working because the music was calming but not distracting. It was just a lilting sort of background which makes me feel professional and productive. It also brings back memories. When we were kids, my father had a victrola (record player) and lots of records. Many Sundays he would play the records because in those days there was little on TV or much to do. With our parents gone, I still have tons of records stashed in the basement. When my kids were little, I loved to play Beethoven's pastoral symphony and we would pretend we were ice skating in our socks on the wooden floors. Thinking of that today, and listening to my music at work, is making me smile. Day one, choosing to be happy, success.

Gingerbread house making day

2009-12-11T16:43:00.000-08:00

My grandson Damien invited me to his school today to make a gingerbread house with his class. There are 11 kids in the class, and they are just adorable. The teacher set everything up so that each child had all the ingredients to create their own gingerbread house. Damien came up with an awesome building, and crowned it off with a horn of plenty filled with gumdrops and M&M's. I was really astounded at how creative seven year olds are. Damien even made a sled with a gingerbread cookieman riding it. This was such a fun day, and one I will treasure. Thank you Damien for inviting me, it was an awesome day and put me in the Christmas spirit!

Hughey Waldman

2009-08-17T05:50:00.000-07:00

My husband and I were down in Historic Gibbsboro yesterday for my grandson's christening. My son-in-laws family flew in from Romania (first plane ride ever!) to join in the happy event. We speak no Romanian, they speak no English. Well, we can say a few words, like car, and how are you, and dead and sugar. They can say a few words too, like very hot, and beautiful and good. My husband was a little nervous about interacting with my son-in-laws father, but as the day went on, I saw them in the yard, walking around, pointing at trees and talking! On the ride home, my husband told me that although they did their best to communicate in the language of gestures, facial expressions and hand waving, he really had no clue as to what the other father was trying to tell him. He said, he kept telling me, "Hughey Waldman" and my husband was trying to search his brain to figure out who this Hughey Waldman guy was since it apparently was an English name that this Romanian guy knew very well. They repeated it slowly to each other, stretched out the syllables, broke it down into sections, each repeating the mantra back and forth to each other. My husband kept asking, is he a famous person and other such clues to arrive at who this Hughey Waldman guy was. My daughter called as we were driving home, and I said, ask Sorin to ask his father what he was trying to tell Dad. He kept saying Hughey Waldman, Hughey Waldman. Sorin came back with the translation, what his father was telling my husband, in his little grasp of English was - You/Me Old Men. We laughed the entire way home.

If you are in Jackson, wave when you drive by~

2009-07-19T13:31:00.001-07:00

We've been spending a lot of time in the yard lately, since our air conditioner blew. But that is another story. I happened to see this guy walking around across the street with this metal thing that I can only describe as a divining rod. You know, the Y-shaped stick that people used to hunt for water in the olden days? You would walk with it in front of you and when it slightly tilted downward, you knew there was water under the ground. You could scream, Eureka! and everyone would come running with their shovels and a well would be born, or so they tell me. I guess it is something like a Ouija board for pioneers. Anyway, this guy was walking around with this thing, it was metal and sort of like a rod with two antenna's on it. So you know, I just had to walk across the street and ask him what he was doing. Seems he is from the cable company and he is looking for stray signals. He told me that normally he just sits in his truck and rides around the neighborhood, and then if he gets a signal, he can explore it with his divining rod (my term, not his!) Well, this was really interesting, and I walked back home to tell my husband when the guy crossed into our yard and proclaimed that the problem was coming from our house. He put a doorknocker thing on the door and told us to call the number immediately for a service call and then he got back in his truck to scan the neighborhood. A few days later the water meter reader came, he had to get in our house, seems they are going to be reading the meters remotely, you guessed it, from the truck! So they had to put a gadget on our meter so that they can just drive by and find out how much to bill us! Gee, I remember when we first moved here, we had some drive bys too, but they sure weren't anonymous! They actually got out of the car, and we kind of looked forward to seeing them. We had the egg man, he would come about once a week and deliver eggs if you were on his list, we had the soda man, he lived off of Addison Road before they shortened it to build 195 and he would deliver any flavor of soda you wanted, and then pick up the bottles the next week. We also had the gypsys that lived in the trailer park on the edge of town. They made some awesome patio furniture and picnic tables, and they would drive around with their pickup truck loaded, selling them right from the curb. Of course, we had the paperboy, but they did away with them in favor of adult carriers, that . . . . drive by and throw the paper from the car. Yea, the good old days, friendly faces, familiar faces, a little conversation, a laugh or too. Gonna miss that, so to the water meter reader and the cable troubleshooter, can you do me a favor, can you wave as you drive by!

What a crazy few weeks it has been

2009-06-19T06:29:00.001-07:00

I realized today I have really neglected my blog postings. So I just jumped off this crazy carousel to bring you up to date! The last I wrote was about my daughter's baby shower in April, I didn't add that we were babysitting my son's animals while he and his partner went on a wonderful two week vacation to Portugal! It was my son's first visit there to see his partner's "homeland" and the pictures they brought back were awesome! So much white and red, concrete buildings, tile roofs, blue skies, just breathtaking. We had an early Memorial Day get together while anxiously waiting for the new baby to arrive. The night before my son's birthday, May 21st, he was mugged while jogging on the boardwalk (he is fine) but just another confirmation to me that exercise can be dangerous! On Friday, May 29th, we were sure it was the day for the baby! I rushed down to my daughters and we walked and got a caffeine loaded cappucino, timed contractions, and the following day everything stopped! Then my son called, his partner was in the hospital with a collapsed lung! Apparently this is something that can sometimes spontaneously happen, so went back home to visit the patient. Still no baby so my husband and I tackled a big job in the yard, we dug out (I mean he dug out) a seven foot tall Mimosa tree that had grown through our fence and transplanted it to the front yard. ( I dug out that hole). We just finished and decided that we would shower and collapse when daughter called, contractions were five minutes apart for three hours! I rushed down and the following morning my new little grandson, Marcus Cornel, was born! You can see his new baby pictures on my friend Denise Snyder's blog. So I spent the week with my daughter's family and am now trying to land back on earth! Check out the pictures! http://dsnyderphoto.blogspot.com/

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WEATHER FORECASTING THE OLD FASHIONED WAY

2009-05-09T16:38:00.000-07:00

There seems to be an awful lot of discussion about the weather. I guess it coincides with the high tech age that we are in. At work invariably the subject comes up, usually, within the discussion of the weekend, or whether or not to take the free Blue Claws baseball tickets that the firm just offered. Once the question is popped, “What’s the weather going to be like?” it starts a free for all to get instant data for future events. Of course, if you are sitting by the computer, it is easy, Accuweather or the Weather Bug are the most popular among my crowd. With weather bug, you can have a pictorial forecast right on your tool bar. You don’t even have to open the program, a quick look at your monitor, and either the sun is out, or there are clouds. If there is a cactus there, better crank up the air conditioning, that means it is going to be a hot one! I fell victim to virtual weather predicting myself while waiting for my daughter’s wedding in August of 2007. I found out that with Accuweather you can really extend the forecast out, like for up to 15 days. So of course in the two weeks before the wedding, I was checking it every day. “Please let it be sunny, please let it be sunny”, that was my daily mantra. I think I overdid. It was sunny alright, like about 99 degrees, in the shade, it was so hot most people skipped the stroll around the historical grounds that I plotted out to fill the gap between the ceremony and the reception. Another furtive week of praying preceded my daughter’s April 2009 babyshower. I even recruited for that. Most of my emails ended with Pray for Sunshine. You think I would have learned my lesson. The big day came, almost topped 90, in April. I had the oven on, cooking and sweating. The guests were cooking too, it was boiling in my kitchen. We turned on the air, but it needed freon or something, it was blowing out the vents, but warm air. I thought I heard the AC hissing “are you freaking kidding me lady, its April! ”, but my husband said it was just the fan blowing. Be careful what you pray for, with the weather, it seems that Mother Nature has a direct line to God’s ear. At work, the lady that does our calendar every day has started printing a weather forecast in the corner. It is a clip art icon, but very cute. We wait every day for the calendar to come out to see if there is a smiling sun, an umbrella, a cloud. This is a good way to know what the weather is going to be tomorrow. There is so much anticipation for that emailed calendar, that we have started saying, “who needs Bill Evans, we have Cathy.” On Cinco De Mayo she put a cute little sombrero on the calendar. It was nice, but we really needed to know if we could eat on CHEVY’s Patio, or have to say inside on May 5th. Another good indicator to know what the weather is going to be is the Weather Channel on cable. How can we live without the weather channel? Think of the unnecessary raincoats, umbrellas and snow boots you would drag out if you didn’t have the weather channel to tell you how to dress. How many mothers are shushing their kids while buttering their toast, waiting for the forecast. How about the people who want to fly a kite and they have to find out how fast the wind is gusting, or if it is gusting at all. A lot of planning revolves around the weather. And what about outdoor chores! Saturday is the usual cut the grass, trim the hedges, do the outdoor stuff at our house. If you have a tremendous amount of outdoor work to do, it is crucial to watch the weather channel with your morning cup of coffee. Now why start mowing the lawn if there is a chance of rain? Who would want to be outside mowing around the patio when a drop of rain fell? Also, you have to consider the dampness, the humidity, the barometric pressure how is that going to affect the blades of grass, whether they will get caught up in the lawn mower. I mean, mowing the lawn consumes about an hour total. Why risk getting wet, better check the weather channel first before going outside. Hey if there is a chance of rain, why even bother starting any chores, better to wait and watch the forecast to know when the perfect time is to spend an hour outside. Sometimes we finish a whole pot of coffee watching the weather channel on Saturday morning so we can find out if it is a good idea to mow the lawn or not. Now, my son just got back from Portugal and brought us the most amazing weather forecasting device. It is a Blessed Virgin Mary barometer. Our Lady is wearing a beautiful cloak, and depending on the weather, it changes color. Now, if it is sunny, it is blue, pink means rain. So any variant between those two colors gives you the forecast. I put it on my window sill, this way I can check it every morning to see what it is doing outside. So, for instance, yesterday afternoon, Our Lady’s robe was really blue, blue means sun. So that means it was sunny outside. My husband confirmed it with the Weather Channel. Mary was right, it was sunny outside. This morning, I raced to the window again, and picked Her up, pink, it is going to rain, pink means rain. Rain means I can’t do what I wanted to do, I wanted to rake, I wanted to put some seeds in, do some weeding, but that is not going to happen today. So what does that mean for us, what of all our plans, all our chores, what we were going to wear. I told my husband, Mary says it’s raining, how could it be raining again, we have so much gardening to do, I wanted to wear shorts and flip flops today, when are we ever going to get our weeding done. He said, “Ellen, look out the window, it’s not raining.” Just because Mary is pink does not mean it is presently pink, it could be a future pink she is warning us about. And that was my Eureka moment, as Oprah says, the Ah Ha Moment, the necessity is the mother of invention moment. It finally hit me, it was like a flash of lightening, a clap of thunder, a blinding beam of sunlight, hail bopping on my head. I have a great idea, even better than Mary, even better than Bill Evans, even better that the Weather Channel, or Accuweater. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it. I feel like a genius, my own absolutely accurate, foolproof way to find out what the weather is like.

O P E N

T H E

W I N D O W !!!!!

The Coffee Pot Game

2009-03-27T14:21:00.001-07:00

My father started it. He used to say, "you can get a lot done while the coffee is perking". So being my father's daughter, I have played this silly little game for about the past 36 years or so. It's kind of like that old game, Beat the Clock, but it's beat the coffee pot. Here's how it goes. I get up at 5:30 and the first thing I do is make the coffee. Now, this is often a challenge because most nights I go to bed with dishes still in the sink or junk still laying around on the counter. So just to get to the coffee pot is often a feat in itself! But once I press the button, its like somebody says, ready, set go. I have timed it and it takes just about 16 minutes to get the finished pot. Now, my husband is one of those people that stands around with his empty but well seasoned coffee cup in his hand, waiting for the last drip to drop. Pacing, looking, dawdling, waiting. Not racing, not playing the game. He will occasionally pull out the pot just a little bit to check the progress. When I catch him doing this, it really burns me up, and I usually chastise him with something like, wait till its done, or its not done yet, or something obvious and lame like that. But I digress, that is usually a weekend event because the four days a week that I work, I am up at 5:30 and quite frankly, he's not. Well, not until lately when he started working an hour and a half north, but he usually waits till my little ritual is done. So the game is mine, alone. So back to the button, its pushed, and the countdown starts. Usually, I start with the dishwasher, because typically, I have filled it and washed the dishes to some extent, but there are always others laying around. So I empty the dishwasher and put the dishes away, but, okay, here's another confession, I have this counting thing, so I have to tap each glass before I take it out and count them, I know it's nutty, but I can't stop. So first I count them, then I take them out and put them on a towel on the counter, and make sure they are totally dry, then I count them on the counter, and then put them in the cabinet and count them as they go in. Now if I could stop this obsession, I would probably cut at least two minutes out of my race performance, but it is just not possible. Okay, so now that all the clean dishes have been counted and put away, I attack the dirty ones laying around, wash them out, rinse and put in the dishwaser . . . okay, I count them too. Then slam the dishwahser, wipe down the counter. Coffee is still perking. I still have quite a bit of time to go. If I can perfect this, I could probably try out for the Amazing Race! Next is packing up my lunch for work, and breakfast because I go in so early, so I have to pour out my cereal, get some fruit, cut it up if it is strawberries for instance, then put either a leftover in a container or make up a salad, throw in some fruit, get that all done, put in a bag. Coffee is still not done. Next tackle is the kitchen table, I go through the mail, sort it out, keep checking the coffee pot, checking the clock, okay, I am way ahead of the pot now. Next is my medicine, I put it out on the counter, get a coffee mug out, put the medicine next to the coffee mug. That's done. My father would be so proud of me. Keep the eye on the prize they say. Well that prize is the first cup of freshly brewed coffee, one pink sweet and lo and one coffee mate dollop of french vanilla (I know, the french vanilla kind of makes the sweet and lo seem ridiculous, doesn't it!). Anyway, during all this craziness, that's my goal, and the strong aroma of that wonderfully flavorful coffee, the first cup from the freshly brewed pot, the first splash after the last drip . . . . ok, I am salvating, let me get back to the race. So I am done with my lunch preparations, emptied the dishwasher, reloaded, counted, cleaned off the table, thrown out the junk mail, and I still have time. I check the clock again, hmmmm, just a little over a minute. What can I do? What can I do, I have to be productive, or the game isn't the same, oh yea, I can run downstairs and find the movie I rented from Netflix and package it up, and check my email again. Okay, done, ten seconds to go, just enough time to climb the stairs, and watch the last drip, you know that last drip that signals the pot is done, and the first savory, delicious, rewarding, cup is ready, just for me, just because I have used my time so wisely, my reward, my steps quicken, I am almost skipping, I reach the top of the stairs just to pass my husband as he walks out to the garage, unlit cigarette in one hand, coffee cup in the other, full coffee cup, fresh coffee, first cup, my cup, "Good Morning" he nods as he saunters out to savor that coffee/cigarette combo. For today at least, I know the agony of defeat!

Are you ready for this!

2009-03-16T19:36:00.001-07:00

Ok, here it is! My newest nuttiness! The apron is hotter than the kitchen collection of not your granny's aprons! Check it out. More patterns to follow!

What's that smell?

2009-03-15T09:02:00.000-07:00

Whew! It is strong in here! When you come in from outside it smacks you in the face. I was going to light one of the fragrance candles, but the competition of aromas would be too much. In the crock pot, I have potato and leek soup, and couldn't resist throwing an onion in. That was a very weepy production. But I noticed that Paula Deen was wearing these onion goggles, and I have to get myself some. Between the leeks and the onions yesterday, I could have cried myself a river, literally! Anyway, I am reheating that since I made it yesterday. I have some shredded cheese and crisp bacon to throw on top when it is ready to eat. On the stove is a slab of corned beef with all the seasonings that was in the packet, that has been simmering since about 10:00 a.m., and I just threw in the red potatoes. My husband is telling me to wait on the cabbage, he likes it firmer. Guess that will mask the taste of the corned beef that he hates! Anyway, my son and his partner are coming, so the table is only set for four. Daughter is very pregnant and tired, and the trip is a little too much these days, especially for a meal that you hate! I made cupcakes yesterday and coated them with sprinkles, green and white, and I did my second attempt at an ice cream cake, chocolate chip mint on the bottom, crushed thin mint girl scout cookies, mini chocolate chips and hersheys' syrup, then another layer of just vanilla ice cream. I did that yesterday and just took it out a while ago, and dyed some cool whip green and put the sprinkles on and put that back in the freezer. Hubby just came back from the liquor store with two kinds of Irish beer. Plus our cable company that plays music has all Irish music on the Sounds of the Season channel. It is pretty dreary out, misty and rainy. My neighbor is from Ireland and she tells me that is the way it is over there. I wouldn't know. I always dream of someday going to Ireland, but if that every happens, that would be a miracle. I'm all set for today though, a little bit of Irish heaven in Jackson, New Jersey. Plus, I was busy sewing this morning. Wait until you see what I made, I will post it later, but I want my son to model it for me first! So since my friend Nora asked me to post some pictures of my Irish kitchen, I have put some in here for you to look at! Pretty soon all the Irish stuff will come down and the Easter curtains, tablecloth, etc., will go up. Change, variety, the spice of life! Reminds me, I heard somewhere that change is the only constant thing you can count on. Thats for sure. Lot of changes, from the St. Paddy's day celebrations with my parents when we were kids, my own over the years with the house overflowing with relatives and nieces and nephews and grandchildren, to this simple table set for four. Many empty chairs, my brother and family moved to Illinois nine years ago, Aunt Edna has passed, David has passed, Mom and Dad Tietke, and of course my parents well over 30 years ago. Things have changed a lot, but a lot has stayed the same. Love of family, sharing a simple meal, carrying on a tradition.

A Mother's Love's a Blessing

2009-03-08T16:42:00.000-07:00

A mother's love's a blessing,
No matter where you roam,
Keep her while she's living,
You'll miss her when she's gone,
Love her as in childhood,
Though feeble, old and grey,
For you'll never miss a mother's love,
Till she's buried beneath the clay.

I've been humming this song lately. It is kind of melancholy. I first knew of it when I read the book Angela's Ashes. I think of that song a lot this time of year, because of two occasions, my mother's birthday and St. Patrick's Day. My mom was born on March 16th, 1926, and growing up I always associated her birthday with our celebration of St. Patrick's Day. My mother was proud to be Irish. Margaret Ellen O'Brien was her name, but most people called her Peggy. Anyway, on St. Patrick's Day, she would always make a traditional Irish dinner of corn beef and cabbage and red potatoes, all boiled in the same pot. And we would have rye bread with lots of butter and she would put a drop of green food coloring in my father's beer. There was always Irish music playing on the record player, and my dad often sang, Peg of My Heart, or my Wild Irish Rose to her. She died in 1974, at the very young age of 48, suddenly, in an instant. One moment she was talking, the next she was gone. Earlier that year she had ordered a set of Irish records that were advertised on TV, you know the kind of infomercials that they had back then, even in the 70's. She waited patiently for them to come, and they did arrive, about a month after she died. I remember my dad saying, Mama's records came. I think we played them, but it just wasn't the same. Through the years, I have tried to recreate that festive Irish celebration for my family. My kids usually groaned, and my husband would annouce that he hates corn beef and cabbage but will eat it just once a year. I decorate for the occasion, I have special Irish curtains and a tablecloth that I made. In fact, this year, I bought new material, because my old set was getting pretty raggedty. I will buy the soda bread, corn beef, cabbage, red potatoes and rye bread. I already put out all my Irish knicknacks. My kids are grown now with families of their own, and I have been trying to coordinate their very busy schedules to get them home for an Irish dinner around St. Patrick's Day. One soninlaw is from Portugal and the other soninlaw is from Romania, so guess the Irish blood is getting thinner and thinner in our family! Anyway, we are down to two possible dates now, so it looks good for this year. So once we settle on that date, the music will be played and the food prepared and for one day I will step back in time and feel the warmth of my mother's love as she made that day so special for us. I have often told my kids that the best feeling I ever can remember is the embrace of my mother when I was a child. So much of our life is assumed, assumed that people know how we feel, assumed that we will have tomorrow, assumed that there will always be more time. So if you are lucky enough to have your mom still living, give her an extra long hug. As for me, I have to save my hugs until I see her again, but hope she hears me singing . . . . " . . a Mother's Love's a Blessing . . ."

What do you mean I am too big for this bed

2009-02-28T12:05:00.000-08:00

On this crazy journey, life changes, and what was familiar and comfortable before sort of melds into something new. About a year and a half ago, we were an overflowing household. An elderly aunt, who entertained us with dementia, until it became heartbreaking, a married daughter and her husband and son, her two dogs, cat, fish, and variety of visitors in and out all day long. We had them from 6 to 82 and all the drama and emotion that goes along with it. And then everything changed. Aunt Edna died, and Lauren and Sorin and our grandson moved away with their animals. The house was empty, quiet, still, lonely. And then came Lena. We inherited her from the Covaci family when my daughter discovered my grandson was allergic to him. Now, we weren't in the market for a cat, or a pet of any kind for that matter. And Lena, was . . . . a little strange, the true personification of a fraidy cat. When my daughter and her family moved last summer, Lena crawled in the space between the washer and the shower and stayed there, we can't even guess how long she was there because we never saw her. Don't worry, she came out, there was the usual evidence of that, eaten food, food deposited after recycling into the litter box. We knew she was okay. But it took weeks to catch her and put her in the carrying case. She scratched my son in law who was formerly her idol and she just never got real cozy in the new place and upon her return, she wasn't really that crazy about being here either. But after a few weeks, she noticed that it is pretty quiet around here without the grandson, the two crazy dogs, the visitors, and all the hoopla that goes with a busy household. So she started venturing out and letting us pet her . . . . with our feet! She still hasn't let us pick her up and scampers away when we try to pet her. But she is becoming more and more friendly and we have to admit that we have grown quite attached to her. My brother was asking us why we didn't just spend Christmas Eve with our children this year, and I blurted out, but we have to watch Lena open her presents. Instantly, I knew that admission was a mistake, just by his reaction. Ok, and we did kind of overdo it on the presents, she has a little basket with all her toys in it. And yea, we got one of those laser mice things, that you click the button and a laser light comes on and you can make the cat chase it all over. Ray likes to make it go up the wall, that really drives Lena crazy, sometimes she is so excited she drools. When I leave for work in the morning, she kind of sits in the window and stares, with those big kitty cat eyes. And both of us call out to her when we come in before we greet each other. Now that is pretty sick. But you know what, it is comfortable. At some point, I pulled this little bed out from the cat carrying case and put it on the floor. My daughter said that Lena never sat in it when she lived with them, but I gave it a try anyway. Lena slowly started sitting in it, and as she has grown, she really overflows in it. We tried making her other little beds, but she really likes this one. It doesn't matter that her feet hang out, she is comfortable. And you know what, so are we. Life has changed, and we are moving on, rediscovering our relationship, embracing the quiet, and squeezing ourselves into a new kind of comfortable.

I LIKE TO SING!

2009-02-24T17:34:00.000-08:00

I guess it can get pretty annoying, my habit of either humming or singing most of the time. I just can't help myself, but I have started to realize that not everyone wants to hear my various arrangements of songs, complete with the substituted forgotten words. When my kids were little, I thought they enjoyed it, although they will probably point to that little idiosyncrasy as an explanation for some future psychoanalysis needs. I liked to take actual songs and mess up the words, or just take a chore and try to make a rhyming instruction with it. Ask the kids about Roses Make me Fart. Anyway, we had an actual record player in the living room, and lots of old vinyl records. I liked to play classical music and tell the kids to close their eyes and pretend we were ice skating. We did a lot of crazy pantomine dances to the records that I would play. Another fun one was Our House by the Clancy Brothers, telling the story of people that came to visit and never left, but not in a good way. One of my favorites was to blast Day O in the morning to wake my little darlings up for school. You know the song, it's playing right now while you are reading this. I would tiptoe into the living room, gingerly, pump up the volume (hey, I was cool even then!) and gently lift the arm of the record player. As soon as the needle touched the vinyl, I could imagine their eyes popping open in terror as Belafonte shouted out the famous words! Of course, I had to accompany it with various exagerated dances and lipsyncing for just the proper effect. And some mothers used the warm washcloth technique! SISSIES! As the kids moved on, or as they like to call it, "escaped from the asylum," I mastered humming. There really wasn't any specific song or tune, just kind of an idiotic repetitive low gutteral buzzing sound, that seemed to just always be there. I didn't even realize it, it was like a vibrator had been attached to my vocal cords. While I was helping a client on the phone when I worked at a law office in Howell, the client suddenly said, "are you humming". I felt like saying, "yea, you got a problem with that?" I had another job where my boss and I shared the same office. One day he jumped up and screamed, "WILL YOU STOP THAT HUMMING?" I think I did for a few weeks, his outburst was very traumatic for me. Now when I go into work, my humming precedes me. As I am hanging up my coat, I invariably will hear, "the hummer is here." I don't think that is something that I should necessarily be proud of. This morning, at about 5:30 a.m., I felt that I was in great voice. I went though a few hymns, "Yahweh I know you are here", "Lord when I come to the water", then an Irish song about some boyfriend that sailed across the sea. As I was going into the shower on the second verse of Day O, my husband shouted, ALL RIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH. Hey, I thought he was sleeping. What nerve! Anyway, I turned on the shower full blast, and knocked it down a few octaves, but I finished the song. Geez! But as soon as I shut the front door, it escaped " I hear a bird . . . a Londonderry bird . . . " (By the way, the picture above is of my own creation, the Rasta Hat, in honor of Harry Belafonte, custom made, just pick your color and size, $25)

The saddest thing in life is wasted talent, and the choices that you make will shape your life forever.

2009-02-22T06:24:00.000-08:00

Powerful! I wish I had thought of that myself, but it is one of the closing lines in the movie, The Bronx Tale. I was reminded of it on Friday night when I was watching 20/20. The kid that played in the Bronx Tale was being interviewed. Lillo Brancato is his name. He was in the Sopranos too. But his interview was not on some movie set, it was behind the bars of jail, where he will be sitting for about the next ten years or so. You may have read it in the paper, high on drugs, looking for more drugs, making the wrong choice, he got wrapped up with a guy who shot an off duty police officer. The cop heard glass breaking and called it in, made a choice, made the right choice, investigated it, and it cost him his life. And now Lillo Brancato is being asked if he remembers the last line of The Bronx Tale. Of course he does, and he quotes it as above. And it started me thinking, about the choices we make. How one split second decision can alter the course of your life. I guess I was on that subject on Friday because I had gotten a letter from my cousin, who is in jail, for murdering his mother and step father. Whenever I hear from him, it makes me wonder, how did that happen, how did a good, loving sensitive kid end up with a double life prison term. You can ask him, he probably doesn't know either. But it has to do with choices. Some choices are planned out, plotted, prepared, and executed with precision. But many are not, many are split second judgment calls. Hey, we all have made them, and looking back, I have made a lot of very poor judgment calls in my life, but somehow they worked out okay. I have made a lot of good judgment calls too, but at those moments,I wasn't thinking, good or bad, yes or no, pro or con, I just picked one, and thankfully it was the right one. So when I was thinking about this today, I was thinking life is full of choices, the gift of free will made it so. Each day, each moment, presents us with a choice, whispers in our ear, like the angel and the devil on opposing shoulders. And like Calogero C. Anello, said in the Bronx Tale, the choices you make will shape your life forever.

2009-01-30T06:55:00.001-08:00

An unexpected bonus

2009-01-24T05:57:00.001-08:00

You know, you kind of just don't know if people like what you do or not. Like Christmas, for instance. It was a rough year, for everybody. Our family put a halt on gifts, but I just wanted to do something. I made up scarfs and hats for my children and their significant others. I made about a dozen soap savers and bought some fancy soaps on sale and made a little gift packet to give to relatives and friends. I made a lot of pumpkin bread . . . . a lot! I made a lot of fudge too, and ate way too much of it! I wrapped them in Christmas paper and tied them with ribbons and gave them away as gifts. I found some placemats on the clearance table and made them into crochet hook holders and even monogrammed them to give to some friends who crocheted. Now, they really like them, and you could tell they appreciated the work that went into them. (Why wouldn't they, they crochet too!) Anyway, I thought I was doing really good. I was giving stuff made with love from the heart with my own wrinkly stubby fingers. So the reactions were . . . . well, not always what I expected or hoped. Everybody seemed to like the food gifts. But the handmade stuff, hmmm, not so sure. I asked one person to whom I had given the soap saver, if she liked it, well . . . yea, I'll find something to use it for. I said, you are supposed to put your soap in it. Oh, she repeated, well, I'll find something to do with it. Ugh. Then another one, after I asked, said, well, I really liked the way the soap smells, I didn't open it yet, but I could smell it. I told her, well, you can put the soap in the holder, and it sort of acts like a washcloth and catches all the remnants of the soap. Ok, so I am realizing, not everybody is enthusiastic about the stuff I make. I was just starting to feel pretty dejected about it. I mean, after all, I did try to give something to everyone, in the spirt of Christmas. And then my daughter's friend stopped by, with her beautiful baby, and he was wearing the set I made for him and gave to her at her baby shower. She told me she adores it, and he wears it all the time. She also loves the assortment of hats that I have been giving her. The picture attached is of beautiful Isaiah laying on his blanket that I made for him before he was even born. I felt like Sally Field! You like it, you really really like it! So I am starting to accept that not everyone is flipping out over the stuff I make. But you know what, there are a lot of people that do. Today, in fact, I reconnected with a former co-worker who moved to North Carolina. She ended her email, with a by the way, remember that little Irish doll you made me. I still have it! I had made her a little dolly to take with her since she was driving alone to North Carolina and I felt she should have a traveling companion. (Ok, now that I read it, it does sound weird, but that's me) I have made and given away a lot of afghans, and every once in a while I get an email or a comment from someone who tells me that it is their favorite comfort blanket. I am sure that there is an equal number that just shoved them into the bottom of their closets! But you know what, I am just going to keep on creating and keep on giving my stuff away. My husband keeps telling me, you are never going to make any money if you keep giving your hats away! Of course, I would love it if somebody actually bought something! But the joy is in the creation, the sense of accomplishment of a task completed, and the sharing of myself. And if along the way someone actually likes what I made for them, that is the unexpected bonus!

Procrastination gets the last laugh at the Crochet Nanny

2009-01-06T03:19:00.001-08:00

Well, December 10th, last day I blogged. Where has she been they ask. My friend says, "I keep checking to see if there is something new" . . . New? Yea, there is something new all right! In fact, it rhymes with new, sort of like the name game. The first letter is not the same, replace it and you have the name, new, drop the n, add bl, and you got it. B L E W! My hard drive blew, as in fried, dead as a doornail, virtual mortuary, computer cemetery, electronic crematory. Remember how I said I was a procrastinator? Remember how I was talking about all this stuff I wanted to do, like, SAVE MY PICTURES ONTO A DISK! There are on a disk alright, a hard drive disk that is wrapped in a plastic Walmart bag and sitting on a table down here. I heard the clickety clackety sound. It certainly wasn't Santa on the rooftop. But did I even think to wonder what it was? No o o o o , just kept downloading, surfing, emailing, scrolling, doing my puzzles, playing Hidden Object, everything but backing up. That was something I was going to get to. My son in law needed directions to the NJ Devils, game, sure said I, mapquest, google earth, 4ll.com, msn maps, hey, I have been on them all. Take your pick, do you want the scenic route, or the direct, fastest, or less miles? Do you want me to print it right from their website with a picture of the stadium? I'm good at this I think as I walk over to the computer that is always on by the way. I'm looking at my screen, it says hard disk error. He is still on the phone, so I say, hold on, I have to reboot. He says with his Romanian accent, "I don't think you should do that, you should call someone." Did I listen? You know the answer already. So, control/alt/delete, reboot, hard reboot, trip the surge protector, pull the plug out of the wall, yea that should do it. It didn't, same message. Ok, so not to panic. My friend's husband plays with computers, he takes all our old computers from work, breaks them down into parts. He assures me, "I have a whole closet of hard drives, let me see what I can do." I am sweating a little at this point, my grandson, he is 6, every stinking day of his life is on that computer. Ever meet a first time grandmother with a digital camera? My pictures thingy said I had 3,000 pictures stored on it. That can't be possible, can it? Anyway, I pleaded, "I don't care about anything, just get me my pictures of my grandson" I felt like I was negotiating with a kidnapper. Maybe I should have gotten a SWAT team involved. It didn't take him long to call. My friend was on the phone, he was on the extension, I guess they were going to double tag team break it to me. It was done, there was nothing that could be done. It was dead, he knew it as soon as he turned it on and heard that clicking/buzzing sound. "How long has that been going on?" , not too long, I answered sheepishly, not wanting to admit that it had to be a few (gulp!) months. "Well, I'll throw a new hard drive in there" . Still hopeful, I asked, "what about my pictures, can I get them?" He said best I can do is give you the old harddrive back. They have places that supposedly can try to retrieve stuff from dead hard drives. I picture a dark alley, exchanging cash, sweaty palms, a kid with a mohawk named Moses, saying, what's it to ya, Nanny? It couldn't be that bad. . I asked around, and someone told me that there are places that will retrieve stuff from your driver. I even got the website, and gee, his friend had it done about six years ago and it only cost him $267! Are you kidding me? Anyway, I went on the website. They have a little diagnostic testing thing there. You click on it, and turn on your speakers and it makes all kind of noises and you can identify what is wrong with your computer by the noise. I tested them all, yea, it was the hard drive alright. The website said, if you hear this noise which it then clearly demonstrated, immediately back up all your stuff on disks in case of a hard drive failure. So there sits my hard drive, seven years worth of baby pictures safely locked away for eternity in its sealed tight vault. I guess I could call Geraldo and see if he can send some kind of expedition in to see what he can find like he did with Al Capone's lost treasure. First I took the tower back from my friend and hooked it up. Unfortunately, when I turned it on, it emitted a high ear piercing, usually heard only by dogs, shrill buzzing sound. I tried playing a movie in it, and then a music DVD but it wouldn't mask the sound. It's been a week, my ears are still ringing. Right now my husband hooked up his laptop to my monitor, but it is moving at the speed of, well, slightly slower than a molasses covered snail in January. It just took me an hour and half to download one picture for a new product listing. Problem is, every time I go upstairs, I have to pass that Walmart wrapped tragedy, sitting on the table, taunting me, reminding me of all that was lost. I have tried averting my eyes, but it magnetizes me, like I have a steel plate in my head, my head snaps immediately to it. I can't stop looking at it wistfully, asking, why? why? as if I didn't know why! Stupidity and procrastination have their own revenge. I know you are not going to believe this, but last night, as I flicked off the light and headed up the stairs, I swore I heard it say, "Na na na na na, I told you so . . . . !!!"

The Lady from Latvia taught the Crochet Nanny to appreciate what you have

2008-12-10T03:39:00.000-08:00

I think I am a collector of stories. I am fascinated by people and their lives, and for some reason, people, even strangers, like to tell me their stories. And from them, I learn a lot, and from one lady, I learned to appreciate what I have. These days, with the economy crashing, I am remembering a chance encounter that left a lasting impression on me, that even today makes me think,stop whining and just be happy for what you have. I call her the Lady from Latvia and here's her story.

The Lakewood ShopRite is not a place to go for a quick milk run. For me, at least, any visit there is as much for the experience, as for the shopping. You see, Lakewood is an international melting point, having perhaps as many different cultures blended there as any major urban center. Walking down the aisles, you may feel that you have stumbled onto the ancient city of Babel. The largest rabbinical college in the world is located in Lakewood, and Hassaidic Jews from all over the world come to Lakewood to study. Men with their curly sideburns and tall black hats, rush to the "Kosher Experience" for some last minute touches for their evening meal, making sure they escape before sundown. Middle Eastern men who crowd into single rooms after working at gas stations for minimum wage so they can send their earnings home to their families in Turkey, scour the dairy aisle for yogurt. Mexican men hide in chicken coops behind farm markets, by day picking tomatoes, and by night walking miles to buy plantains before Shop Rite closes at 1:00 a.m. Indian women in their saris load their baskets with onions and search the spice aisles for coriander seeds to season their rich curries. You can hear the chatter of Poles, and Czechs and Russian Jews, all searching the shelves for something that reminds them of home. And they are not disappointed. Shop Rite stocks so many varieties of food that to a curious born in the USA housewife, you can get lost in the possibilities.

It was on a lazy Sunday afternoon that my daughter and I met the Lady from Latvia. We were looking at the meat case, which covers the entire back of the store, and laughing at the packages of pigs feet, pigs ears, chicken feet, and other such delicacies. A very well dressed older woman, with shiny white hair, and brilliant blue eyes, her pale skin ashen next to the bright red lipstick painting her lips, stood next to us, fingering packets of lamb shank, examining and then selecting three. I asked her what she was going to make with the lamb shanks, since my daughter and I were always trying to come up with new recipes. She told us that she had a hard time finding lamb shanks,and when she saw them , she would buy several to keep on hand. Her speech was very formal, slightly accented, and she held her head erect. I would not call it pride, but more an air of confidence and comfort with who she was. She started to explain her recipe, and she told me it was a very European style of cooking. She would cover the shank with water, seasonings, and lots of vegetables and potatoes, and let it cook for hours. It would develop the most flavorful broth and tenderize the little meat on the shank. She was alone and she could get several meals from one pot. It was a dish she had made for many years. Although she was polite, I noted that she was a bit reserved, but nonetheless I took the bold step of asking her more. I said, may I ask what country you are from? I could feel my daughter cringing with the knowledge that her mother was at it again, interrogating perfect strangers because of her desperate curiosity to know about people. She didn't hesitate, and it almost seemed that she wanted to talk. She told me that she was from a little country, called Latvia, had I ever heard of it? And of course, I had, and told her so. She told me that she was born there, and that she had married and had an infant son. When her son was just a baby, the Russians invaded her country, and captured her husband. She was able to flee with her son to Poland where a minister from a church offered her his help to get her to America as a refugee. Knowing absolutely no one, she took her baby son and came to New Jersey. With the contacts that the minister had given her, she was able to get a small apartment and a job in a factory. She worked 50-60 hours a week, for over 40 years, in the same factory, putting every penny into funding a good education for her son. Her son was now the owner of his own computer company in California, had a PhD and was a very educated and wealthy man. She told me that her son takes very good care of her, and that she lives very comfortably now in her retirement, without any worries about money. It struck me that even with this admitted comfort, she was still searching through the cheapest cuts of meat to make a bountiful old world stew. I asked her if she ever had a chance to go back to Latvia, and she told me that she had not. Then she paused and said , but I didn't find out what happened to my husband until just five years ago. I found out that after the Russians captured my husband, they took him to a field, and executed him by firing squad. All these years, I had been waiting for some word from him, waiting to find him, and he had been dead from the beginning. Her eyes seemed a little wistful , and she said to me, is this your daughter? After acknowledging that she was, she said to both of us, America is the greatest country in the world, don't ever forget that, you are the luckiest people that you are born here and live here. And then she said, And now you know my story.

And now so do you.

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It Takes a Village, filled with 1000 markets

2008-12-08T03:21:00.001-08:00

You know, when Hillary Clinton's book, It Takes a Village came out, I have to say, even without reading it, I was a critic. What do you mean, it takes a village? What kind of theory is that? I don't need a village to raise my child, or do anything else for that matter. I should have read, No Man is an Island Unto Himself! Recently, a neighbor had a baby after a difficult pregnancy. The baby has some kind of gastric problem that keeps her up and crying 24/7. It's sleeping time is about three seconds out of every five. Very difficult for the baby, and also for the parents who are rotating shifts so that they can sleep. Shortly after the baby was born, I sent over a big dish of macaroni and cheese and fudge, there's that fudge again! My neighbor across the street sent over rotisserie chicken and sides the next day. As I was getting ready for work about a week later, I noticed another neighbor standing on the bus stop with new mommy's older child. On another day, neighbor across the street called since teenage big sister was babysitting and couldn't calm the baby. I went across the street and within five minutes, another neighbor and her husband arrived as well. Our neighborhood is like that, it's like a (gulp) village. And as I sit at my computer at 5:00 a.m., before getting ready for work (the job that pays the bills, not the fun one!), I am centered right smack in the middle of a virtual village. 1000 markets was unknown to me until someone on another marketplace mentioned it in a forum. I took a look and immediately loved it. I mentioned it to a few virtual friends and before I knew it they had shops. Being somewhat graphically challenged but a big blabbermouth, I just mentioned that I wanted to snazz up my shop, and a wonderful lady, Liz Designs, took a look and gave me the finishing touches. Another virtual friend, Alyson 2, was so complimentary on this site and we patted each other's back when we were accepted! In visiting the forums, and writing my blogs and reading other blogs, I am learning a lot about people in my little village. For instance, when I mentioned to Alyson that my husband was recently laid off, she offered her expertise in resume writing, (her other career task!). I have met a lot of amazing people on this site, well, not met, you know what I mean. Amazing people who are honest, sensitive, creative, and willing to reach out and help their fellow virtual market members. I find myself racing to the computer to see what is written in the forums, or the blogs, or just strolling through the markets, incredibly impressed by my window shopping. I have learned a lot by participating, and reading and when you are a grandmother there is a lot to learn about this stuff! So to my fellow shopkeepers, I say, thank you so much, and to Hilary Clinton, I say, you were right, it does take a village, a virtual village.

Better do today what you want to put off until tomorrow

2008-12-07T11:32:00.001-08:00

You know, my head is bursting with ideas. Now, I am not going to pretend that they spring from some creative fountain deep inside, but they are snippets from magazines, TV, internet, friends, and real life churning through my head like a subliminal slide show. I am the first to admit they are a little grandiose and if I thought logically, instead of emotionally all the time, I would realize that sometimes I bite off more than I can chew. Like my brother's surprise for his 50th birthday. I was going to make him a scrapbook of his entire life, prefaced by a genealogy, pictures and anecdotal blurbs about family members. I started with gusto, the pages filled, all six of them, the birthday came, the birthday went, and now my goal is to present it to him on his 60th. I had similar success with my grandson’s, his book is complete to his christening at six weeks. He turned six this summer. Yea, there are quite a few, like my great idea to have everyone sign the holiday tablecloth, and then I would embroider their signatures, capturing them forever. They signed, I stitched, but am about three years behind on that project. Also, the book my daughter presented me when she gave birth to my first grandchild, the one where you write all your memories and history to preserve for your grandchildren. I just can’t seem to find the right pen, plus, should I print, or script? These are big decisions when you are creating a heirloom. Don’t even ask me about the 3,000 pictures I have on my computer that I am going to organize into categories, and print out into booklets. Let’s not go there, okay? I have often said if I could eliminate work and sleep, I could get all my projects done. But recently, I learned a real lesson that taught me, just do it, and get it over with! I had read a lot about prayer shawls that some churches were doing to comfort people facing major illness. My church doesn’t do them, my son’s church does. I thought what a great idea, I want to do that, but never took the next step to join an organized group. Then my dear cousin, Tim, was given horrible news. Lung cancer that had spread. This was about two years ago, and I thought, wow, wouldn’t a prayer shawl be nice. Of course, it would, and after all that thinking, it would be nice, I finally bought the yarn, but there it sat, I worked it a little, put it aside. I felt guilty for not being part of a prayer group, and doing it on my own. I researched that to see if it were as effective. These things take time, you know. It should have taken a weekend, it took months. One weekend, I just got a burst and finished it. I mailed it off to him and late on a Monday he called. He wanted to tell me that he had gotten awful news. All treatment was suspended, the cancer had spread into his bones. The pain in his shoulder that he was suffering with was because his shoulder had disintegrated, laced with cancer. There was really nothing more that they could do. But he had received the shawl, and he loved it, he immediately wrapped it around him, he loved the softness of it, he said it made him feel better. I told him, when you wrap it around you, I hope you can feel all my love and prayers and the hope that went into making it. A few days later, he collapsed and went to the hospital. The shawl went with him. His wife said it made him feel better, he said it made his shoulder not hurt so much. It never left him. He lapsed into a coma, and was taken home by hospice. Never waking up, he died the next day. One week after getting the shawl that was two years in the making. His sister said to me the day he died, “ I thought there was more time, I guess I have learned not to delay, not to put things off.” She is right, as it seems that life is speeding away like a runaway train and I am holding on for dear life, hoping to make it around the next bend. They say life is what happens when you are busy making plans. Life - like Aunt Edna always used to say, "nobody gets out alive." Guess I better try to change my mantra from I’m gonna to I did, it’s going to be hard, but I think it is time to start being a verb and not a noun.

We are what we make, not what we buy!

2008-12-07T11:31:00.001-08:00

I had just clicked "send" on my All Users email for my co-workers birthday, when it seemed instantly, an attorney from our office sent me a message from his blackberry at court "did you make that awesome pie/cake thing". I emailed back, "yes, and fudge too," and the reply came immediately, "can you save some of it for me because when I get back it will be all gone." And as predicted, when he did come into the office, the foil tray was in the garbage, virtually licked clean. My nephew had a housewarming party yesterday, invites went out quite a while ago, but on Monday he called, and after some idle chit chat, asked if I could make "your meatballs". This is what I called the curse recipe, because once you bring this dish to an event, you are forever, for the rest of your life doomed to have to bring it again. I have renamed it Peggy's curried meatballs, as my mother had torn it out of some newspaper, and the worn and stained clipping was tossed from drawer to drawer over the years until it actually was lost. Thankfully, a friend had diligently copied down the recipe while my mother was making it and years later, nonchalantly said, "oh, that recipe, I have it." It's not that I mind making it, but it is a two day project. You have to make all the meatballs, not spaghetti and meatball size, but those little appetizer size, as uniform as you can get them, and make sure they don't burn. Then you make the special sauce and you have to soak the meatballs in the sauce in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours so everything blends. Then the day of the event, you have to put them in a crockpot for at least six hours to heat, because these are not the throw in the microwave type of food. Yea, it is a curse, but the expression on everyone's face first when you walk into a party with them, and second, as they are savoring their third and fourth helping, all makes it worthwhile. I think everyone has their special dishes, and there is always that person in the family that you associate with a special food. Food that is made from scratch, time consuming, multi-step, always tastes just right, a creation. And that how it is with the artisans in this market. Anyone can pick up a machine made mass marketed scarf, but how many people can crochet or knit one, choosing the yarn, choosing the stitch, all with the intention of sharing a craft, giving of yourself and creating a memory. Whatever the product, the fact that is hand made is special, unique and lasting. I just can't imagine being associated with some mass produced, big box store , grab from the freezer, shove in the microwave speciality, and come to think of it, I have never heard anybody rave about Mary's Sara Lee cake, or Laura's bagel bites, or John's Beefaroni. The fact that people associate the creator with the creation, like Aunt Edna's apple pie, or Aunt Alice's doilies, those are the things that last, that endure, that fill hope chests and are passed from generation to generation. Things that are made by hand, by people,and with the love and joy of the creator.

What I've been up to lately

2008-11-09T11:56:00.000-08:00

Well, a new beautiful baby arrived on our block late in October, so I cracked out the recipe for fudge that I hadn't made in so long, and made a tray of that and a big tray of yummy comforting macaroni and cheese and sent it across the street. Then someone in the office had a birthday, so I made the fudge again. I forgot how easy it was to throw together, and of course everyone loved it. I was thinking about when we lived in Erie, PA and would go for rides and see signs that said, "Goat Milk Fudge" for sale. Now, my memory is not that good, so I am not sure if we ever bought goat milk fudge, or ate it, but somehow I have this thought of stopping along the road and buying some and savoring it, but it could just be one of my many dreams/memories mixtures! Anyway, speaking of babies, we are expecting another grandchild! L & S, the newlyweds, recent homeowners are expecting in late May early June. I am really looking forward to seeing if I should buy pink yarn or blue! Also, due to the school holiday, D came to visit since last Wednesday and went home last night. I call it the arrival of the six year tornado! But honestly, it is more or less my participation in the fun that makes the house look like it was ransacked from one end to another. Of course, we had to drag out the afghans and put them on the living room floor so we could pretend we were on a raft in the middle of the ocean, plus D was deputized and gave us a lot of tickets, I got one for not having socks on and PopPop got one for eating grapes in the living room, plus he shot a giant tiger (stuffed) with a tranquilizer gun and caged it up so he could return it to the zoo! Oh to be six again! Also, in my spare time, I finally finished a bunting for M at work and his new baby which is due within the next two weeks. Here's a picture

Saying goodbye to Aunt Edna

2008-11-09T11:49:00.001-08:00

You know, people always say, when you get older, time passes more quickly. That seems impossible, there are the same amount of minutes in the day whether you are six or sixty, but why does it seems to just keep going faster and faster? From the last time I wrote, we took Aunt Edna to her final rest. It was a cool day, misty and gentle rain started falling when we moved to the cemetery plot. It was very odd seeing a deep hole and then the velvet wrapped box that contained all the bodily remains. I kept asking myself, is that all there is, is that it, you live your life, and so soon it has passed. As we drove away, the cemetery worker who had been sitting patiently by while we listened to Edna lead us in prayer, came with a lone shovel, one shovelful at a time, filling it in. We all met afterwards and lingered so long over lunch, it was hours, but somehow no one wanted to leave.It was almost a feeling of what might happen before we can all be together again, and the feeling that we should just savor the moments of being together. I have tried to take a few minutes each day and remember Aunt Edna and all the love she brought to the world and hopefully through those memories she will be forever alive.

Trying to be a verb, and not a noun.

2008-09-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that it has been so long since I last posted on my blog. Reminds me of that saying that life happens while you are busy making plans. I always plan to post, but somehow everything else pops up! My crochet cocoon creations have gotten some "air time" on Denise Snyder's Photography website and I am posting the two precious little angels here as well. We had a nice two night visit with my brother from Illinois, who is coming again tonight. He kept remarking how quiet our house is, and that is certainly true. After having two dogs, a cat, newlyweds, and a six year old and his friends and visitors, it has taken some getting used to. We had a nice visit in Historic Gibbsboro for a housewarming party for L's house which was a great success. It coincided with my birthday and there was plenty of desserts, and a very big cake with a lot of candles on it. Thank goodness for my sisterinlaw Ellie, she was able to help me blow them out, I think I was able to get two extinguished and thank her for helping me with the rest. Have been down to South Jersey to check out D's soccer games and so far they are doing great. S ran in a relay race for the Food Bank of Monmouth and Ocean county and I am very proud to say his team came in 14th out of 120! Quite a showing! Good Job! After many prayers, S's fatherinlaw came safely through his surgery and is home resting now getting plenty of TLC. Of course, I have been busy crocheting, I made a soap holder for some great homemade soap that my friend, K, gave me for my birthday, and am just about finished with a blanket, sweater, hat, sleeping bag cozy and matching hat for a little newborn that is due to arrive in a few weeks. Also, have been working on a prayer shawl for a very special cousin, and that is coinciding with my readng of a very good book, The Shack, about man's relationship with God. My favorite passage today from that book is that God is a verb and not a noun. What a concept! If you have time to read it, it is certainly worth it, but be prepared to re-read a few chapters! This weekend, we are traveling up north to bring Aunt E to her final rest beside her family members, her grandmother, grandfather, mother and father. Has been making me think a bit of how family traditions have changed over the years, how the distance is making it a little hard to stay connected in the old ways, like Sunday dinners, and just meeting for birthday cake. Seems like most of my reaching out to people is through the internet, and though it does seem cold in a way, it is the best we have these days. Just trying to coordinate everyone's schedule for this special occasion for Aunt E was difficult. I will let you know how it goes. And if you have a minute this week, try to be a verb and not a noun

Babies, Babies, Babies

2008-09-08T18:06:00.001-07:00

You have got to go right now, right this minute to my friend Denise Snyder's blog and see the most adorable little babies! Little Isaiah Matthew and Little Cassie. If you want to see what pure angelic innocence looks like, type in her website right now! Little Isaiah is wrapped in my boucle cocoon and Little Cassie is swaddled in my cream boucle coccoon. Each one has on one of my little hats, and I mean little, because they are too small for their little heads! Now call anybody that you know that is pregnant, and tell them to go right to Denise's blog and look at those babies, and then call Denise with their due dates. Anyone booking a session with Denise at my recommendation will get a custom made hat for their baby's first picture, and one that fits too! http://dsnyderphoto.blogspot.com/

Welcome to the World Isaiah Matthew

2008-08-19T19:30:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to Matt and Melissa as they welcome their beautiful little baby boy Isaiah Matthew into the world on August 17th, 2008. Who would have thought that tiny little Melissa would have given birth to a whopping 9 pound, 1 ounce little treasure. I can't wait to see his precious face, and made this cute little hat that Thumbelina is trying out just for Isaiah. This is what makes crocheting so special, crafting stitch by stitch a special gift for a special little boy. Welcome to the World!

Thanks Denise for the great pictures!

2008-08-18T15:23:00.001-07:00

My friend Denise photographed some of my goofy hats for me! Denise has a way of capturing the special moments of life and preserving them in forever memories.Please visit her website at Denise Snyder Photography for some phenomenal pictures. http://dsnyderphoto.blogspot.com/ You will not be disappointed! Thanks Denise!

It's a Small World after all!

2008-08-13T17:30:00.001-07:00

Had a great week off of work spending time with a special friend that is visiting from Spain. He arrived on Saturday evening, and we were on the go all week. Monday, we went to New York City, but first picked up my godchild, K, who just graduated from Seton Hall University. We took the train from South Orange to Hoboken where we jumped on the Path train, intending to get off at the World Trade Center. As we approached Exchange Place, my Spanish friend, J, wanted to show us Manhattan from the Jersey side, and we got off and mingled with the financial guys during their lunch time stroll on the riverfront. We grabbed the Ferry and traveled over to the World Trade Center site, and just walked and walked and walked. J wanted desperately to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge and take the train back, but after convincing him that we would need a wheelchair for me, we saved it for another day. We walked for hours and ended up in a little sandwich shop where unbelievably J ran into someone he knew from Barcelona! Later my godchild got a call from her aunt who was visiting from Oklahoma and was waiting with her family on the island in the middle of Times Square! We met up with them and then walked back to Madison Square Garden to catch the train back to South Amboy. What a great day!

A simple day

2008-08-02T07:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent a great day with my grandson, D, at his new home in Historic Gibbsboro, NJ. I went down to wait for the electrician who was changing over tube and knob electrical wires into whatever it is that they use now. I commented to the electrician that perhaps Thomas Edison had put in the original wiring! Apparently, this was the way that electricity was brought into homes and this house built in 1875 was probably proud of such a modern convenience in its time. Sitting on my daughter's front porch, is like stepping back in time. The house is in the historic district and the surrounding homes have big porches with large baskets of Boston ferns, oversized wicker porch furniture and very ornamental Victorian Gardens. My grandson and I took a nice walk around the town and stopped for a big ice cream cone at Mazzo's. They have a great covered patio that was nice and breezy and my grandson and I tried to catch the dripping ice cream that was quickly melting in the summer heat. Near the end, my grandson's cone dripped down his shirt causing us to race for some napkins. I wanted to circle around to my daughter's house through the cricket fields, but D was determined to retrace our original route. He finally admitted that he was afraid to walk through the cricket field which was home to about 20 Canadian Geese. We scouted out a little park with an old fashioned clock and gazebo built in honor of a long time resident. Also there was an apple tree planted by the 1999 kindergarten class as a tribute to their retiring teacher who served the school for over 30 years. The whole day made me think of simple times, when mothers greeted their children from school with warm chocolate chip cookies, and maybe spent the evening crocheting an afghan for extra warmth on a winter night. Maybe that is why I like to crochet so much, the warmth of the worked piece on your lap, the progress of one stitch after another to make something uniquely yours, and the feeling that life is simple and cozy and good.

My cute little model, Thumbelina

2008-07-28T19:05:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed my very cooperative and adorable model, Thumbelina. Santa brought her to me when I was about 10 years old, I think it was the same year that my brother got Mighty Matilda, the pride of the fleet. Anyway, she will actually come to life if you turn the big wooden knob on her back, it is really freaky. My kids used to cry when I wound her up, especially when I added the little voice, but that is a subject for another day. She is really pretty beat up, good thing she is modeling hats, that way you can avoid looking at her very grotesque hairdo, it is kind of Pebbles gone wild with what looks like a poor Joe Biden hairplug job in the front. Poor Thumb has stuck with me all these years, and now hangs out on my bed until I drag her out to try on sweaters and stuff. She doesn't complain which is one of the qualities I admire most about her. So Thumb, just wanted to say, thanks for the memories.

Hand Crocheted Items for Sale

2008-07-27T18:41:00.001-07:00

Thanks to my friend Denise for suggesting a way to fill the empty nest! I will post pictures of some of my work on this blog for your review. All items shown are for an infant size, unless otherwise noted, and can be special ordered with your choice of yarns and colors and in other sizes which may or may not be at the same price. If you have something in mind, let me know, and I will see if I can make it. All prices exclude shipping and handling, and will take between 1-2 weeks to complete, depending on the item. Keep checking back, I have lots of ideas and how to get them made and posted here, and hopefully will fine tune my little store to make it more efficient as I learn! Thanks for taking the time to browse!~

Thanks to Ella!

2008-07-27T09:14:00.001-07:00

It is only fitting that my first post on this crochet blog should be a tribute to my husband's grandmother, Ella Sander Tietke, who had the patience to teach me to crochet. It was a craft that took many years of giving up and giving it another chance, until I figured out how to do it. Ella loved to make the ripple afghan and that was her signature. Over the years, she probably made over 100 of them, all without charge, just asking people to cover the cost of the yarn. As her niece always says, Thank God for Tanta Ella's Afghans! Each of us had our own, and snuggled under them while watching TV, or reading a good book, or sneaking an afternoon nap. In our family, you can see them draped over a couch, positioned on the end of a bed, or piled with others in baskets on the floors. It has been said that Ella first liked to knit but after having a heart attack in her 30's, her doctor suggested that she change to crocheting since it was a less stressful technique. In my memories of her sitting in her comfy chair, fingers laced with yarn, her project was always afghans, and always the ripple, with combinations of two to three colors, and always Red Heart yarn. If you bought her skeins, she would suggest complementing colors and say a total of seven for an adult and five for a child. She had a cottage industry before they had a name for it. And to Ella, I say Thank you for teaching me to crochet.