Amuma (Grandmother)

Amuma is Basque for Grandmother. (pronounced a moo ma--short a sound both times) This was my mother's mother, and June 1st she died.   We had gotten a call the day before to let us know that her kidneys were shutting down, and my mother called to let me know that she and my dad were going to drive to Eastern Oregon the next day.  I really wanted to go, but my husband was supposed to go to North Carolina for a Knug Fu Testing.  (He is a 6th degree black belt and was to sit on a testing board)  My wonderful husband cancelled his trip, and told me to go to the funeral.  So within an hour, I had called work let them know I would be gone, told my mom to pick me up on her way out of town, and had started to pack.

You see, my Amuma had a really rocky path of a life.  In a time when mental frailty was just not spoken of, and handled even worse, my Amuma had to deal with everyday life with what would have been called "having had a break down"  (my other Grandma Alice always used to say of the subject  "What did we know?  We knew nothing about mental illness, and we still know very little--Grandma Alice was very wise.)

Don't get me wrong, this did not define my mum (pronounced moom) She was in so many ways the most generous of women.  She loved fiercely, but often did not show it as easily, mum's way was to make sure that you had peaches when they were in season, or some money to take to the store to buy candy.   This, of course, was my perception as a child.   When I was a young woman, Mum and I went to the movies together, and my perception changed.  This is the story I told at her funeral.

After my Ichica (I-long sound cheecha) (grandfather) died my mum and I went to see the movie Ghost
and when the scene with Patrick Swazyee and Demi Moore came on with them working with the pottery wheel.. you know the one right? I was getting worried.  I thought to myself.  "Geesh, this is a little hot and heavy for my mum." and I looked over at her to see how she was taking the scene.  She had tears running down her face.  I was really worried, I said
"Mum, are you okay?"  she answered me without taking her eyes from the screen.

"I had the world's best lover."

This was spoken so softly, with such passion. I was completely floored.  My perception of humanity changed at that very moment.  Grandparents had lovers.  Mothers and Fathers had lovers.  Not just the knowledge of this that our heads have.. that in our minds we know this must be so because we ourselves are here.. but the heart felt, soul touched surety.  That before I felt the pull of passion, before I cried tears of joy from the beauty of my lover's embrace, my grandparents felt this same desire, the same pull toward each other.  I have never looked at any one person in the same way.  That moment with my Amuma changed my entire world view.  Every one of us, Grandparents, Parents, everyone you meet has had hopes, dreams, aspirations, despairs, and lovers.

My Grandmother lived  23 years after the death of her lover.

I had said to one of my cousins the day before the funeral that I was feeling guilty that I wasn't more upset (of course I started crying then when I said that at the funeral) but what came to me the next morning, and what I said at the end was that I knew that at the minute of my mum's death, my mum and cheech shared a kiss that shook the universe.  How could I be sad for that?

This isn't exactly how I said it of course.. I didn't write it down, and I was speaking to family, they all knew the love that my grandparents shared. At that country funeral, with their best wrangler jeans on, and their Stetsons covering their hearts, many of those still there witnessed that love from beginning to end.  What did I know?  I came in kind of late in the game after all.  But on that very windy hill, with the sun just peeking through some fluffy white clouds in a little town called Jordan Valley, Oregon it seemed the right time to point it out again. 

Almost Summer

Tomorrow is the last half day of school... I am so very ready.  I think I'm more ready than my boys. 

summer, summer, summer, summer, SUMMER!

Take that you lacey blue thingy...

Well.. I do hate to lose.  

Now I just need to run it to my friend Melissa.. and be done with it.   I think I just stuck my knitting tongue out at it.

So you think you can knit??

This is for all of my readers (the two of you) that always go on and on about my ability to knit absolutely anything, and with the apparent thought that I never, never get frustrated with it.  I envision you thinking that I serenely sit back, knitting, without looking at my hands, with a beatific smile on my face, and a glow to my skin.  

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP!

I have been knitting for over a week to try to work on a little lacy cowl for a friend of mine.  She has a Bar Mitzvah to photograph at the last part of May.. the 20th to be exact.   The family is Orthodox, so she will need to have her head covered in Temple.  This will be perfect for her.  A cowl will lay around her neck outside, be lovely over her head inside, and is so, so light that she can wear it, even on the hottest days of the summer. 

I hate this thing.  It is a very easy little lace pattern.  Really it is. Two rows, one pattern row, one knit row, and every damn row I was off on the stitches.   I HATE to count stitches on each row.  In my arrogance I checked the errata on line to see if the pattern was written wrong, you know, missing a step?   I found out that I was reading the pattern wrong, and then was okay.. like, "All right, I was just reading this wrong.. I'm such a goober, but it happens." 

So I sat down to work on this again, and yet again... YET AGAIN I am off on the stitches... I was so mad, so fire breathing dragon mad that I did this.....

I cut the whole thing off the needles and recast on the damn thing.. 90 new, long tail cast stitches.  I will start working on it again tonight sometime,  but I had to knit on some socks just to settle my nerves.      

Update on Grandma.. and stuff

Just to let you know  Grandma Betty is doing really well, she had a couple of pins put in, she spent 3 weeks in Rehab and is back home... that woman is my hero.  Actually she is stronger now after 3 weeks of forced labor.. no rest for the wicked I told her.  Things are really great around here, except that I have had no time to pick up my violin, and I have to be the homework Nazi tonight,  helping the 14 year old Sam write "Six and one half paragraphs" (the original assignment is 8 paragraphs, which is an insurmountable task for any spectrum child) this was due on Friday... Last Friday... it's Tuesday.  He has not started this assignment, and will not until I go over, start yelling, cajoling, threatening.  Frankly I'm ready to drowned my angst in the copious amounts of sugar left over from Easter baskets.. I am really looking forward to summer.  No homework.  I bet Pam is looking forward to Summer too.  OHHHHHHH   I am being called into the dark void of homework.. the excuses are starting.. ("I cannot read the notes" is the big one right now) and "Mom, do you know what this says???" was just yelled from the other room.. 

Let us bow our heads and pray for the sanity of  Chelle.

Catch up

I have to take some pictures.. I have a new green hooded sweater.. that is all "Lord of the Rings"-elven like, and I'm making new slippers. I've got yarn on order to choose for another sweater.. I'm on a hoodie kick lately. I'm sure it has nothing to do with Oregon weather, and I've made some adorable hats for my photographer friend.. Oh.. I can show you those.. see..

She is an amazing photographer.. and a really nice lady too. She laughs at my jokes, which is kind of a prerequisite for being my friend.. my ego being what it is..

I'm still learning the violin.. and will be forever. Learning what my instructor calls the "monster instrument to learn" LONG TERM PROJECT.

I had another skype session with Joan.. and I would do a little cool linky thingy to her blog.. which is on the side of my blog.. Joan's Good Life.. if I could but, I'm not a good geek with computers..

I really love Joan. What a great person, she laughs at my jokes a lot. And I totally almost made her spew when I told her she was a chicken shit... but you kinda had to be there. Joan's great for my ego too.

Do you see what you're missing Pam? We need to have a coffee date on Skype.. I love this day and age. When I was a child, the women of the neighborhood would come together and have coffee after all the children went off to school to start their day.. I call it "Coffee table counseling". In my family it is still the best therapy out there.. With skype, my neighborhood now includes Nebraska, and Sody Daisy, Tn. (I love the name of that town).

On the more serious side this morning.. I would ask for some prays for my Grandma Betty, who just turned 93 last month. She fell last night and broke her hip. She has surgery in one hour. She is, far and away, one of my heroes, what a strong, amazing woman, who still has the sense to laugh at herself, and the rest of us-she keeps me humble, she does.

Skyping with my homies

Well, maybe just with one of my homies.. or maybe with Joan.. you know of Joan's good life? Out of the blue on Saturday I get this call from Nebraska.. you know on my caller ID? and my husband says "Nebraska?" like "Really?"

Anywho, it was Joan, saying "If I have to spend one more hour puzzling out this sock heel alone I may just commit sock Hari Kari (that is loosely translated of course.. I'm taking my usual fictional license here) I was thrilled! I was so excited to talk to her, but trying to "show" someone how to knit a short row heel over the phone is more than even my own vocal overachieving self can manage.

She pushed me into it.. (Actually I've been wanting it for ages, it was the perfect excuse!) I went and got a computer camera and set up Skype. And by Sunday afternoon, we were hanging out and I was contorting around to show her how to knit a short row heel..

There were ooohhhs and aaahhhs.. a general all around gushing over the technique ---the only way I do my heels by the by. I was feeling great about the whole thing, until Joan e-mailed me later to confess that she spent her time watching instead of doing and needs to see it again... Now I've been teaching knitting for years and all I can say is "D'OH!"-- because I know better, always, always, always have the student doing most of the work.. not the teacher.. geesh. Sorry Joan, my dear.. my own personal epic fail... I can only blame it on my overwhelming sense of being a Jetson and having video telephone stuff.. I felt all Star Trekkie..

I'll be calling Joan soon.. She has socks to finish..

Oh and Pam, ready to move on past scarves? I'm there for you homie!