At work, I tease my coworkers and tell them that I have psychic powers. Mostly, this is because I've been there long enough that if someone starts to ask me a question I can usually tell what the question is before they finish asking it and nine times out of ten, I have the answer.
The posts about Grandma's box have been sitting on Blogger in draft form for months. My uncle sent us the box right before Christmas, but between the multiple computer implosions and moving and the suck that was the beginning of the year, I never got around to loading the pictures into the post so that I could share it. When I finally sat down to do it, it still took me three days because Blogger didn't want to load the images.
But that's not the point. The point is, after waiting months, I finally posted something about my mom's family, about someone who was dear to me even though I didn't get to know her as well as I would have liked. Most of the people on that side of the family are like that for me--I seldom get to see them, but our personalities just match.
This morning, I got a call from my mom. Her brother, my uncle, had a heart attack/stroke. She described it as "mild" though I don't know how a combination heart attack and stroke can ever be mild. I guess that's what the doctors call it when you're still alive to tell the tale and not permanently disabled.
Uncle Steve is probably my favorite person on the entire planet. He always makes me laugh, and he never takes anything too seriously. Unfortunatly, in the past couple of years, he's been dealt some really, really shitty hands (no other word for it) and hasn't been taking care of himself.
He's been released from the hospital. Evidently all of this happened on Wednesday, but because he doesn't have any friends or family to speak of near him, there wasn't anyone to call us until he got home.
I would give anything to be able to go up and see him right now, to spend a summer with him like I did in college, but that's not going to happen. I had to save for a year just to get to Cincinnati, and I'm still completely wiped out from that trip, financially speaking. It is unlikely Mom will be able to go see him, either.
So do me a favor and hug someone close to you tonight, because I can't.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Friday, May 17, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The Box Part II
The box of my grandma's things contained only two objects other than photos. The first was a plastic box with some old pins and a charm in it--likely in memory of Ettiene. The charm has a name on the back, but we have no idea who Raymond is, and I'm not entirely certain of the significance of the pins, other than they are probably related to the Royal Canadian Air Force. The other thing was her wallet. This might not seem like much, but you don't know my grandmother. I presume that at some point it held money, but instead we found all of those little papers...shoved into that little wallet. To say that it was stretched to bursting would be an understatement.
(And no, after these photos were taken I did not get everything back inside).
A few highlights...
A hospital bill from 1963 for a total of $3 for services rendered:
Her ID.
A collection of bus and subway tickets, and two learner's permits--one issued by the Province of Quebec, and one from Michigan, from the brief period when she and my grandpa lived there, around the time they got married.
Speaking of which, we found a receipt that we're pretty sure was for their wedding bands (Blogger is having issues with letting me load the photo, unfortunately). Both of them together were under $32. Current gold prices are something like $1,300 an ounce.
A "Backseat Driver's License," which would have been given to her by her husband, and made us laugh. It's a trait she carried well into her old age, and the card itself is a classic example of my grandpa's sense of humor.
This is a receipt for a shoestore, dated 1963. It is for a pair of specialty shoes that my mom wore when she was little, thanks to a birth defect in her knees. The cost of child-sized orthopedic shoes that year? $7.40.
A pay stub:
These letters were also in the wallet. From them, and the dates of various receipts, it looks like she carried it from 1958-1974. Mom and I haven't gotten to translating them yet from the original French.
There were two of these, and we aren't sure how she came by them, since as far as we know she never left the Great Lakes/Niagra region of North America. They are raffle tickets sponsored by an Irish hospital, and direct the bearer to listen to a Dublin radio station to see if they are a winner.
While Mom pieces together the faces and names from the photographs, I've put myself in charge of the wallet. It's fascinating seeing these little bits of history, pieces of my grandmother's life long before I was born. Seeing where she went, who she was in contact with. There were at least a dozen business cards, including one from the Canadian Consulate in Detroit. Tucked into a pocket were two keys, presumably to one of the many appartments she lived in over the years. At least four different addresses are represented on various pieces of paperwork--a HydroQuebec electric bill, a Western Union wire transfer. Scraps of paper with notes on them, a slew of receipts. Some of her notes are in English, most are in French. There's even a help wanted ad tucked away for a job she might have been considering at some point.
I leave you with this, which sums up my grandmother's pride pretty well. She was always very proud, both of her own heratige, and of the American side that my mother inherited through her father. This was folded up among the other detrious:
It is an article about a Canadian woman, age 34, who turned down a ladyship (is that the right word?) in the UK because she was so proud to be Canadian that she didn't want a British title. I'm still trying to translate the article and find out more about the story to see why she was being honored in the first place.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
The Box, Part I
Have you ever seen those shows on PBS, or sometimes TLC or DIY or somesuch, where people research random old stuff they'd found? Glass bottles in the attic that belonged to a doctor who once owned the house, or a civil war rifle that belonged to a distant relative?
I love those shows. And I kind of feel like I'm in one.
A while back, we got a box from my uncle up in Canada, my mom's brother. I'd only seen this box once before, but as soon as the packaging came off, I knew what it was.
This old wooden box was found among my grandmother's things after she died. It's full of old black and white photos of people who died long before I was born, and in most cases, before my mom was born. At any rate, we only know who a handful of the people in the pictures are. They range from the funny:
to the sweet:
to the slightly creepy:
and hit everywhere in between.
This guy shows up quite a lot. Doesn't he look like he's about to whip out a Tommy gun and go looking for Capone? We don't know who he is, but I suspect his pictures are some of the oldest in the collection.
This is one of the few people we could put a name to: Ettiene Cabinaugh. I don't know much about him other than he was in the RAAF in WWI, and was shot down over France. We have a certificate and a letter from the RAAF commemorating his death, and a letter from one of his fellow soldiers that reads like a short eulogy, talking about his personality and the fact that his sister and mother would send him bottles of wine by baking it into loaves of bread. After his death, a ring was found in his possessions, intended as an engagement ring for his girlfriend. It was passed on to an aunt and eventually to my mom. It appears to be cut glass, but it's still pretty.
My mom and I are going through family records, trying to piece together who is who and when some of the photos were taken. From the dates, we know that they range between 1937, mostly up through the early 60's, with a few from the 70's and 80's.
This one is familiar. I think I've seen this park before. At a guess, I would say that it is somewhere in Montreal, I think off of St. Catherine, but I couldn't say for certain. Mom also thinks it is familiar, but thinks it might be in Windsor. Anyone else want to hazard a guess?
I love those shows. And I kind of feel like I'm in one.
A while back, we got a box from my uncle up in Canada, my mom's brother. I'd only seen this box once before, but as soon as the packaging came off, I knew what it was.
This old wooden box was found among my grandmother's things after she died. It's full of old black and white photos of people who died long before I was born, and in most cases, before my mom was born. At any rate, we only know who a handful of the people in the pictures are. They range from the funny:
to the slightly creepy:
and hit everywhere in between.
This guy shows up quite a lot. Doesn't he look like he's about to whip out a Tommy gun and go looking for Capone? We don't know who he is, but I suspect his pictures are some of the oldest in the collection.
This is one of the few people we could put a name to: Ettiene Cabinaugh. I don't know much about him other than he was in the RAAF in WWI, and was shot down over France. We have a certificate and a letter from the RAAF commemorating his death, and a letter from one of his fellow soldiers that reads like a short eulogy, talking about his personality and the fact that his sister and mother would send him bottles of wine by baking it into loaves of bread. After his death, a ring was found in his possessions, intended as an engagement ring for his girlfriend. It was passed on to an aunt and eventually to my mom. It appears to be cut glass, but it's still pretty.My mom and I are going through family records, trying to piece together who is who and when some of the photos were taken. From the dates, we know that they range between 1937, mostly up through the early 60's, with a few from the 70's and 80's.
This one is familiar. I think I've seen this park before. At a guess, I would say that it is somewhere in Montreal, I think off of St. Catherine, but I couldn't say for certain. Mom also thinks it is familiar, but thinks it might be in Windsor. Anyone else want to hazard a guess?
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
This isn't what I set out to write. But it was the right thing to write.
Well, I said that details would follow, so here they are:
There are a few reasons that the blog has been light on content and heavy on the random and silly lately. For starters, I've basically been sick since the middle of April. It started with an allergic reaction to a frozen dinner (why can't "chicken" just be chicken anymore? Why do they have to put soy in EVERYTHING?), which combined with yo-yoing Ohio temperatures, dry weather, and an extremely high pollen count that ended with bronchitis. Now normally, bronchitis, which is caused by a virus, works itself out and goes away on it's own after three weeks. In my case, however, it decided to linger. I finally went to the doctor and was given medication, which has made me feel much better but tends to make me a little shaky and tired. Still, not as tired as coughing 24/7 did. It did make knitting a little difficult, though.
While all of this was going on, my grandmother was admitted to the hospital for internal bleeding. They kept her for a few hours, then sent her home. The same day I called my mother to get the phone number for the doctor's office, she told me that Grandma had been re-admitted for severe dehydration. Again, several smaller problems snowballed, and she was two points away from being on dialysis. That night, I came home to find an email that she had stopped eating and drinking, and was not in a good way.
I wanted to go see her, but I also didn't want to be in a hospital while hacking up a lung. So I took a day, went to the doctor, got my meds, and then spent the day in front of the tv.
Then I went to see her.
Everyone was surprised to see me, since they knew I was sick (when everyone you work with tells you to see a doctor, you know you are ill). But I couldn't stay away.
On February 14, 2002, my maternal grandmother had a stroke. It was the middle of the school year and she lived in Canada, so my parents went up to see her and I stayed behind to go to school. They were gone a week, and when they came back we started making plans to visit over the summer. Grandma Ray made slow improvement and was starting to regain some of her functions when in early June, she had a second stroke, robbing her of the little progress she'd made.
When she was first admitted to the hospital, they took her off her medication because of the risk of stroke. Without the ability to speak, she couldn't communicate the things she was seeing to the doctors or to my mom or uncle.
She was a paranoid schizophrenic.
On June 20 we got a call from my uncle that she had gone off food. We called and begged her to eat. It was enough to get her to take a few bites. On July 1, we got the call that she had passed, after once again going off food. We were at my other grandparent's house, celebrating my 15th birthday.
So, when I found out that my grandma--the only one I have left--had also gone off food, and during the same season, exactly ten years after my other grandmother, well, I was scared. And I just want to say thank you to everyone who thought good things for her. She's doing much better now and we are cautiously optimistic about the future.
My maternal grandmother was an avid knitter, crocheter, and sewer. She was a strong woman who didn't sugarcoat the truth as she saw it, and even though she had her problems she loved her family and did her best to do right by them.
I believe that there are two kinds of relationships that people have: There are people that you are close to because you spend a lot of time with them, and there are people you are close to because you fit together, because your personalities mesh. Similar to soul mates, but these relationships are not necessarily romantic in nature and can be between a parent and child, friends, siblings, coworkers, or pen pals.
If there is one person in the world that I could spend an afternoon with in heaven, it would be Grandma Ray. Because she lived so far away, I only saw her once every few years and most of my knowledge of her is anecdotal. I wish more than anything I'd gotten a chance to know her better.
Grandma Jerry has been there since I was born. She was my first babysitter and according to rumor had me trained at the age of two to smile and pose for the camera whenever one was produced. It's thanks to her that I have a bit of an addiction to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, since we would watch it every evening when I was at her house, me laying on the floor on my stomach and her in her trademark orange recliner.
From her I have inherited a love of tea, a hatred for cooking, and a passion for history. I wish I had her orderly, tidy nature as well, but I'll have to settle for organized chaos and a passing acquaintance with the vacuum cleaner and the dishwasher.
In case you have forgotten, this Sunday is Mother's Day. Thank your mother, and your grandmother, and your great-grandmother if you're lucky enough to still have her around.
Grandmas are important people. Make sure they know it.
There are a few reasons that the blog has been light on content and heavy on the random and silly lately. For starters, I've basically been sick since the middle of April. It started with an allergic reaction to a frozen dinner (why can't "chicken" just be chicken anymore? Why do they have to put soy in EVERYTHING?), which combined with yo-yoing Ohio temperatures, dry weather, and an extremely high pollen count that ended with bronchitis. Now normally, bronchitis, which is caused by a virus, works itself out and goes away on it's own after three weeks. In my case, however, it decided to linger. I finally went to the doctor and was given medication, which has made me feel much better but tends to make me a little shaky and tired. Still, not as tired as coughing 24/7 did. It did make knitting a little difficult, though.
While all of this was going on, my grandmother was admitted to the hospital for internal bleeding. They kept her for a few hours, then sent her home. The same day I called my mother to get the phone number for the doctor's office, she told me that Grandma had been re-admitted for severe dehydration. Again, several smaller problems snowballed, and she was two points away from being on dialysis. That night, I came home to find an email that she had stopped eating and drinking, and was not in a good way.
I wanted to go see her, but I also didn't want to be in a hospital while hacking up a lung. So I took a day, went to the doctor, got my meds, and then spent the day in front of the tv.
Then I went to see her.
Everyone was surprised to see me, since they knew I was sick (when everyone you work with tells you to see a doctor, you know you are ill). But I couldn't stay away.
On February 14, 2002, my maternal grandmother had a stroke. It was the middle of the school year and she lived in Canada, so my parents went up to see her and I stayed behind to go to school. They were gone a week, and when they came back we started making plans to visit over the summer. Grandma Ray made slow improvement and was starting to regain some of her functions when in early June, she had a second stroke, robbing her of the little progress she'd made.
When she was first admitted to the hospital, they took her off her medication because of the risk of stroke. Without the ability to speak, she couldn't communicate the things she was seeing to the doctors or to my mom or uncle.
She was a paranoid schizophrenic.
On June 20 we got a call from my uncle that she had gone off food. We called and begged her to eat. It was enough to get her to take a few bites. On July 1, we got the call that she had passed, after once again going off food. We were at my other grandparent's house, celebrating my 15th birthday.
So, when I found out that my grandma--the only one I have left--had also gone off food, and during the same season, exactly ten years after my other grandmother, well, I was scared. And I just want to say thank you to everyone who thought good things for her. She's doing much better now and we are cautiously optimistic about the future.
My maternal grandmother was an avid knitter, crocheter, and sewer. She was a strong woman who didn't sugarcoat the truth as she saw it, and even though she had her problems she loved her family and did her best to do right by them.
I believe that there are two kinds of relationships that people have: There are people that you are close to because you spend a lot of time with them, and there are people you are close to because you fit together, because your personalities mesh. Similar to soul mates, but these relationships are not necessarily romantic in nature and can be between a parent and child, friends, siblings, coworkers, or pen pals.
If there is one person in the world that I could spend an afternoon with in heaven, it would be Grandma Ray. Because she lived so far away, I only saw her once every few years and most of my knowledge of her is anecdotal. I wish more than anything I'd gotten a chance to know her better.
Grandma Jerry has been there since I was born. She was my first babysitter and according to rumor had me trained at the age of two to smile and pose for the camera whenever one was produced. It's thanks to her that I have a bit of an addiction to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, since we would watch it every evening when I was at her house, me laying on the floor on my stomach and her in her trademark orange recliner.
From her I have inherited a love of tea, a hatred for cooking, and a passion for history. I wish I had her orderly, tidy nature as well, but I'll have to settle for organized chaos and a passing acquaintance with the vacuum cleaner and the dishwasher.
In case you have forgotten, this Sunday is Mother's Day. Thank your mother, and your grandmother, and your great-grandmother if you're lucky enough to still have her around.
Grandmas are important people. Make sure they know it.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Fly By
1. Grandma is much better, and might be able to go home in time for Mother's Day. She does, however, have permanent damage to her kidneys and we will be watching her closely in the coming weeks.
2. In better news, it is official: I am now a professional knitwear designer. And I get paid and everything! My very first pattern was accepted this afternoon, and I am very, very excited.
3. Now if I could just hear back from Tor (with an affirmative) everything would be just dandy.
2. In better news, it is official: I am now a professional knitwear designer. And I get paid and everything! My very first pattern was accepted this afternoon, and I am very, very excited.
3. Now if I could just hear back from Tor (with an affirmative) everything would be just dandy.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Recovery
Error: KnotMagick is recovering from an abnormal shutdown. Please stand by. Some stitches may be lost if you did not move them to a holder beforehand.
Continue in pattern or proceed with garter stitch? Y/N
To avoid this problem in the future, please bind off appropriately and block well.
Continue in pattern or proceed with garter stitch? Y/N
To avoid this problem in the future, please bind off appropriately and block well.
Yes, that is my night stand right now.
Yes, the M&Ms are essential to a quick recovery. As is the Mountain Dew. (Don't worry, I'm also drinking lots and lots of water.)
Why thank you, I am doing better. (The number of medications actually means improvement, if you can believe it.)
No, I am not the only one who is ill right now. If you are the praying sort, my grandma could use it right now.
Details to follow.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
ER
It's been a long day.
My mom and I both had rough days at work. I was an hour late picking her up for various reasons, and we stopped for food because the closest thing I'd had to a meal in the last ten and a half hours was a handful of potato chips and two small cookies. We stopped for groceries and were about five minutes from home, when Dad called. I could barely understand him because his speech was so slurred, but what it amounted to is, "I hurt. My left arm is numb. Take me to the hospital."
So I floored it.
Long story short, he's had a problem with a pinched nerve between C-5, -6, and -7. This is causing his arm to go numb and a lot of pain besides.
This is the same man who got 12 stitches on his foot, gave up on crutches after two days, and started walking around in sandals. This is the man who pulls 3 inch splinters out of his own hand, shot himself in the arm with a nail gun and kept going, and brushed off foot surgery after about a week. The only thing that ever takes him down consistantly is his back, and he never says it hurts, just that he needs and tylenol, or the heating pad, or whatever. And here he was practically begging me to take him to the hospital.
So I'm in the waiting room. I'll probably be online for a while, since no one else is waiting for the computer, and I have nothing better to do. I did manage to grab a book on our way out the door, but it's not really doing a great job of distracting me at the moment. My ipod is about dead, and my cell phone isn't far behind, so the computers are my only link to the outside world at the moment.
We are 99% certain it is nothing life threatening, we just have to wait for everyone else to decide that and figure out what to do about it.
It looks like it's going to be a long night. And here I am without my knitting.
My mom and I both had rough days at work. I was an hour late picking her up for various reasons, and we stopped for food because the closest thing I'd had to a meal in the last ten and a half hours was a handful of potato chips and two small cookies. We stopped for groceries and were about five minutes from home, when Dad called. I could barely understand him because his speech was so slurred, but what it amounted to is, "I hurt. My left arm is numb. Take me to the hospital."
So I floored it.
Long story short, he's had a problem with a pinched nerve between C-5, -6, and -7. This is causing his arm to go numb and a lot of pain besides.
This is the same man who got 12 stitches on his foot, gave up on crutches after two days, and started walking around in sandals. This is the man who pulls 3 inch splinters out of his own hand, shot himself in the arm with a nail gun and kept going, and brushed off foot surgery after about a week. The only thing that ever takes him down consistantly is his back, and he never says it hurts, just that he needs and tylenol, or the heating pad, or whatever. And here he was practically begging me to take him to the hospital.
So I'm in the waiting room. I'll probably be online for a while, since no one else is waiting for the computer, and I have nothing better to do. I did manage to grab a book on our way out the door, but it's not really doing a great job of distracting me at the moment. My ipod is about dead, and my cell phone isn't far behind, so the computers are my only link to the outside world at the moment.
We are 99% certain it is nothing life threatening, we just have to wait for everyone else to decide that and figure out what to do about it.
It looks like it's going to be a long night. And here I am without my knitting.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Slowly Catchin Up
Well, a little at a time I've been scratching things off of my mile long to-do list. I emailed BritRail about luggage regulations, hoping I wouldn't have to ship my trunk ($330 minimum!). Thankfully, they do allow checked luggage, contrary to what I originally thought, so I can take my suitcase. I also talked to some hostel-hoppers on Ravelry, getting more info on hostels, their security and regulations.
My other activities this past week have included copius amounts of knitting and--gasp--crocheting. I finished up one lap robe, got most of the way done with another before I ran out of yarn (might still manage to finish it if I'm really, really lucky), and started a third. That one will actually come with me to Europe. I've decided that rather than risking my knitting with the TSA and European anti-terror groups (I've been reading the horror stories on Ravelry, trying to gain more information on what is allowed and what isn't), I'm going to pack it all away and just take a K or N size crochet hook and some scrap yarn. I'm making myself one of those blankets that folds up into a pillow out of some leftover balls of yarn. The afghan will probably go in my checked baggage so I don't have to carry it (You hear that, George Bush? I'm sneaking an Afghan in my suitcase!), but I will most certainly be bringing another skane of yarn for other, smaller projects on the plane. I'm thinking of a laptop cozy and a cell phone cover, just because the phone is a rental and I'm a klutz. I know how many times I've dropped my ipod, and I'd rather it have a hard case, but for some reason Walmart has stopped selling them for that style of phone and I'm too lazy to search elsewhere, particularly since I leave in LESS THAN A WEEK. Can you believe it? Two months ago, I didn't even think I would make it this far, and now I only have five days.
Another think that has been keeping me busy is my knitting book! Yep, I'm working on putting together a special book of patterns. I have it outlined, a list of everything I want to put into it, and about half the patterns are written. I'm looking for test knitters though, since I'm new to this whole pattern-writing thing. If you're interested, please post in the comments or e-mail me using the yahoo address in my profile. I have patterns for both knitters and crocheters, and I think that there's a fair range of skill levels.
I hope everyone out there had a blessed Yule, Christmas, Hanuka, Kwanza (does anyone even celebrate that? They always made a big deal about it when I was in elementary school to encourage diversity, but I've never met anyone who celebrates it. Of course, my teachers NEVER mentioned Yule...some diversity...) or whatever else you celebrate.
The holiday itself was okay, but most of my presents where food. How, I ask you, am I supposed to eat 2 boxes of necco thin mints, one double box of cherry cordials, half a dozen mini bags of M&Ms, one bag of sour starburst jelly beans, one large jar of pickled eggs (love me some pink eggs! (don't ask. We have a lot of Amish around here. If you don't know what they are, they you probably won't get it)), three mint 3 musketeers, 2 bags of skittles, and one bag of Dove Dark Chocolate, on top of Gingerbread men and whatever my Grandma gets me (we haven't even had the extended family Christmas yet; just the one with me and my parents).
I decided that the skittles and the dove (un opened bags) are going to come with me to Europe. I can take those in my checked bags, right? I don't want them to go to waste, since no one else in the house eats skittles or dark chocolate.
As to the rest of my "vacation"...There have been fire works. Family tension continues. It is actually one of the reason I am on the computer at the library right now instead of at home.
But I'm dealing. I get out of here in five days, and I cannot wait to be gone.
Pictures of knitting and crochet to come soon. I hope to get them updated at the latest on New Years Eve, when I'll probably be loading images from Alice's house, if her wireless internet decides to give me a signal.
My other activities this past week have included copius amounts of knitting and--gasp--crocheting. I finished up one lap robe, got most of the way done with another before I ran out of yarn (might still manage to finish it if I'm really, really lucky), and started a third. That one will actually come with me to Europe. I've decided that rather than risking my knitting with the TSA and European anti-terror groups (I've been reading the horror stories on Ravelry, trying to gain more information on what is allowed and what isn't), I'm going to pack it all away and just take a K or N size crochet hook and some scrap yarn. I'm making myself one of those blankets that folds up into a pillow out of some leftover balls of yarn. The afghan will probably go in my checked baggage so I don't have to carry it (You hear that, George Bush? I'm sneaking an Afghan in my suitcase!), but I will most certainly be bringing another skane of yarn for other, smaller projects on the plane. I'm thinking of a laptop cozy and a cell phone cover, just because the phone is a rental and I'm a klutz. I know how many times I've dropped my ipod, and I'd rather it have a hard case, but for some reason Walmart has stopped selling them for that style of phone and I'm too lazy to search elsewhere, particularly since I leave in LESS THAN A WEEK. Can you believe it? Two months ago, I didn't even think I would make it this far, and now I only have five days.
Another think that has been keeping me busy is my knitting book! Yep, I'm working on putting together a special book of patterns. I have it outlined, a list of everything I want to put into it, and about half the patterns are written. I'm looking for test knitters though, since I'm new to this whole pattern-writing thing. If you're interested, please post in the comments or e-mail me using the yahoo address in my profile. I have patterns for both knitters and crocheters, and I think that there's a fair range of skill levels.
I hope everyone out there had a blessed Yule, Christmas, Hanuka, Kwanza (does anyone even celebrate that? They always made a big deal about it when I was in elementary school to encourage diversity, but I've never met anyone who celebrates it. Of course, my teachers NEVER mentioned Yule...some diversity...) or whatever else you celebrate.
The holiday itself was okay, but most of my presents where food. How, I ask you, am I supposed to eat 2 boxes of necco thin mints, one double box of cherry cordials, half a dozen mini bags of M&Ms, one bag of sour starburst jelly beans, one large jar of pickled eggs (love me some pink eggs! (don't ask. We have a lot of Amish around here. If you don't know what they are, they you probably won't get it)), three mint 3 musketeers, 2 bags of skittles, and one bag of Dove Dark Chocolate, on top of Gingerbread men and whatever my Grandma gets me (we haven't even had the extended family Christmas yet; just the one with me and my parents).
I decided that the skittles and the dove (un opened bags) are going to come with me to Europe. I can take those in my checked bags, right? I don't want them to go to waste, since no one else in the house eats skittles or dark chocolate.
As to the rest of my "vacation"...There have been fire works. Family tension continues. It is actually one of the reason I am on the computer at the library right now instead of at home.
But I'm dealing. I get out of here in five days, and I cannot wait to be gone.
Pictures of knitting and crochet to come soon. I hope to get them updated at the latest on New Years Eve, when I'll probably be loading images from Alice's house, if her wireless internet decides to give me a signal.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Crash and Burn
I'm at the parents house for the next week or so for Christmas. I can't believe that in just over a week I'm leaving for Europe. I still have so much to do!
Progress has been slow and steady on the Slytherin scarf. It was interupted by necessary last minute Christmas knitting. I'm making a bulky scarf for my cousin who may or may not show, and I need to start a hat for my mom. The hat wasn't intended, but hers bit the dust the other day, and the pattern is simple enough that I can make a replacement.
I also finished sewing a dress (maybe I mentioned this? I really don't know). I'll have pictures of everything once I get the camera batteries charged.
Oh, and I dyed my hair. Or tried. It was supposed to be blue, but for some reason the dye didn't like my hair, so it turned green, which is really not my color, so my mom took Garnier #76 to it, but missed about half my head so now I look like festive, Christmas camo with mostly red hair and giant patches of green and brown.
So far my holiday has been rather tense, thanks to my father. On Gaia, I've begun refering to my parents and myself using mythological means. My account on that site is "LadyAnubis"; I've nicknamed my mother Hathor, after the Egyptian goddesss of hearth and home. My dad is Dionysus. I'm sure you can figure why, going on what I've said previously. Anyway, there were more fireworks tonight. I'm hoping we get all of this out of the way before I leave. My mom cries every time my dad's name comes up, and while I can sort of forgive the drinking, and the being out all hours, I can't forgive him making my mom cry. I just can't.
*sigh* So. I'll try to get some pictures in tonight, since the parental units have gone to bed. I need to update ravelry anyway. Hopefully I'll get all the images up by tomorrow or Sunday.
I suddenly have much sympathy for the White Rabbit. There's so much I need to do...I'm late, I'm late, I'm late...!
Progress has been slow and steady on the Slytherin scarf. It was interupted by necessary last minute Christmas knitting. I'm making a bulky scarf for my cousin who may or may not show, and I need to start a hat for my mom. The hat wasn't intended, but hers bit the dust the other day, and the pattern is simple enough that I can make a replacement.
I also finished sewing a dress (maybe I mentioned this? I really don't know). I'll have pictures of everything once I get the camera batteries charged.
Oh, and I dyed my hair. Or tried. It was supposed to be blue, but for some reason the dye didn't like my hair, so it turned green, which is really not my color, so my mom took Garnier #76 to it, but missed about half my head so now I look like festive, Christmas camo with mostly red hair and giant patches of green and brown.
So far my holiday has been rather tense, thanks to my father. On Gaia, I've begun refering to my parents and myself using mythological means. My account on that site is "LadyAnubis"; I've nicknamed my mother Hathor, after the Egyptian goddesss of hearth and home. My dad is Dionysus. I'm sure you can figure why, going on what I've said previously. Anyway, there were more fireworks tonight. I'm hoping we get all of this out of the way before I leave. My mom cries every time my dad's name comes up, and while I can sort of forgive the drinking, and the being out all hours, I can't forgive him making my mom cry. I just can't.
*sigh* So. I'll try to get some pictures in tonight, since the parental units have gone to bed. I need to update ravelry anyway. Hopefully I'll get all the images up by tomorrow or Sunday.
I suddenly have much sympathy for the White Rabbit. There's so much I need to do...I'm late, I'm late, I'm late...!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Living Like a Gypsy, Rolling Like a Stone
It is move out day in the dorms. It's 10am, and I'm ready to start loading the truck, but I have a few more minor details that I can't take care of until Alice is awake.
Today makes move number seven for 2007.
1) Apartment>>Home
2) Home>>Akron for summer study
3) Akron>>Home
4) Home>>Montreal for internship
5) Montreal>>Home
6) Home>>Dorm
7) Dorm>>Home
Granted, some of those "moves" were only a day--like when I stayed at home for a night before moving into the dorm. But it still involved moving all of my belongings (at least, the important ones) between three different locations.
And it's not over yet. There will be a day or two spent at my grandparents for Christmas. New Years Eve I'll be taking everything that will be going with me to Florence to Alice's place, since we have to be up at 2am in order to make it to the airport for our 6am flight.
Add in a week hopping around the UK before we even arrive in Florence....x_x Can I please stay in one place for more than three months? Please?
I mentioned that the Kimono sweater is done, right? I don't remember. It doesn't help that my computer is out this week. When I got it repaired last time, they gave me a faulty logic board, so they're fixing it again now. I don't have any of my pictures or files.
Anyway. If I forgot to say it before, the sweater is done. It fits okay, but not quite like I hoped (that sounds familiar. Maybe I did mention it).
Currently on the needles is the Slytherin scarf, which passed the halfway mark yesterday during Jr. Seminar. I might actually finish it before Christmas.
I'm also working on a dress. I'm using the fabric I originally bought for the cape/cloak thing for my Brigid costume, which is a sort of burgundy faux velvet/suede. I'll probably wear it to the family Christmas, and also to the going-away-party that Alice's parents are throwing for her. It's 90% done, just needs some tweaking on the side seams and to add the straps. I did the bulk of the work in two days. I think I'm getting better at this whole sewing thing.
Well, I'm off. As they say, a rolling stone never grows moss. I should be polished smooth by the time this is all said and done.
Today makes move number seven for 2007.
1) Apartment>>Home
2) Home>>Akron for summer study
3) Akron>>Home
4) Home>>Montreal for internship
5) Montreal>>Home
6) Home>>Dorm
7) Dorm>>Home
Granted, some of those "moves" were only a day--like when I stayed at home for a night before moving into the dorm. But it still involved moving all of my belongings (at least, the important ones) between three different locations.
And it's not over yet. There will be a day or two spent at my grandparents for Christmas. New Years Eve I'll be taking everything that will be going with me to Florence to Alice's place, since we have to be up at 2am in order to make it to the airport for our 6am flight.
Add in a week hopping around the UK before we even arrive in Florence....x_x Can I please stay in one place for more than three months? Please?
I mentioned that the Kimono sweater is done, right? I don't remember. It doesn't help that my computer is out this week. When I got it repaired last time, they gave me a faulty logic board, so they're fixing it again now. I don't have any of my pictures or files.
Anyway. If I forgot to say it before, the sweater is done. It fits okay, but not quite like I hoped (that sounds familiar. Maybe I did mention it).
Currently on the needles is the Slytherin scarf, which passed the halfway mark yesterday during Jr. Seminar. I might actually finish it before Christmas.
I'm also working on a dress. I'm using the fabric I originally bought for the cape/cloak thing for my Brigid costume, which is a sort of burgundy faux velvet/suede. I'll probably wear it to the family Christmas, and also to the going-away-party that Alice's parents are throwing for her. It's 90% done, just needs some tweaking on the side seams and to add the straps. I did the bulk of the work in two days. I think I'm getting better at this whole sewing thing.
Well, I'm off. As they say, a rolling stone never grows moss. I should be polished smooth by the time this is all said and done.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thanksgiving Breaking Point
Just for a little perspective on the cost of that week in the UK, a one way ticket to Florence was $1300, and a round trip ticket was $1200 (why on earth is a round trip ticket cheaper than one way? Why?).
Right now, I am shaking. I nixed the idea of a letter, but I didn't have the heart to tell my parents face to face over thanksgiving, so I'm trying to get a hold of them at home by phone, but no one is answering.
Thanksgiving was decent mixed with icky. There continue to be issues with my dad that I will not detail here. I'm to the point where I'm about to start chasing him around the house with sharp, steel needles until he gets himself back in line. I don't know if it's weakness or strength that my mom has stuck with him so long.
Right now, I am shaking. I nixed the idea of a letter, but I didn't have the heart to tell my parents face to face over thanksgiving, so I'm trying to get a hold of them at home by phone, but no one is answering.
Thanksgiving was decent mixed with icky. There continue to be issues with my dad that I will not detail here. I'm to the point where I'm about to start chasing him around the house with sharp, steel needles until he gets himself back in line. I don't know if it's weakness or strength that my mom has stuck with him so long.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
How?
How do you tell your family you want to leave and never come back? How do you fit the rest of your life into two suitcases and two carry on pieces of luggage? How do you purchase a one way ticket to a place you've never been before?
I don't know how to answer these questions. I have to reserve my ticket by Monday. One way, or round trip. My parents have no idea I'm even considering transfering to a school in Europe. How can I possibly get them to understand in five days? They don't even want me going on the study abroad trip, with a set return date.
I have to go home tonight and pick up my information packet from the school in Florence. I don't know what to tell them, or how to say it. I'm afraid of what my dad will do, and I don't want to hurt my mom. Alice thinks it's all so easy--just tell them. Well that's fine for her. Her parents want to go back to Europe. They're planning on visiting us.
My parents don't travel. My dad is more anti-social than I am. He's perfectly happy never leaving our little town. He still works in the same zip code where he was born, raised, and lived until I was a year old, and doesn't see any reason for that to change.
I've known for a long time that I can never be happy in Madison County. I've known for a while that I need to get out of Ohio. After spending the summer in Quebec, it confirmed that I will probably never be happy in the US.
But how can I put those thoughts into words when I know how much it will hurt my family?
I don't know how to answer these questions. I have to reserve my ticket by Monday. One way, or round trip. My parents have no idea I'm even considering transfering to a school in Europe. How can I possibly get them to understand in five days? They don't even want me going on the study abroad trip, with a set return date.
I have to go home tonight and pick up my information packet from the school in Florence. I don't know what to tell them, or how to say it. I'm afraid of what my dad will do, and I don't want to hurt my mom. Alice thinks it's all so easy--just tell them. Well that's fine for her. Her parents want to go back to Europe. They're planning on visiting us.
My parents don't travel. My dad is more anti-social than I am. He's perfectly happy never leaving our little town. He still works in the same zip code where he was born, raised, and lived until I was a year old, and doesn't see any reason for that to change.
I've known for a long time that I can never be happy in Madison County. I've known for a while that I need to get out of Ohio. After spending the summer in Quebec, it confirmed that I will probably never be happy in the US.
But how can I put those thoughts into words when I know how much it will hurt my family?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
My Ticket out of Dodge
Yesterday afternoon, I recieved my acceptance letter to the Studio Art Centers Italy. Starting January 9, I'll be studying fine art in Florence, Italy. I can't wait!
I called my parents to let them know; I've never heard a Congratulations sound angry before. Neither of them want me to go. The last time I left home for a prolonged period, my dad was arrested for OMVI/DUI/DWI the same day. He only recently got his license back.
I love my parents, but they always make me feel guilty about who I am and what I want to do. One minute they're telling me I can do anything, and the next my mom is wondering why I'm still awake at 10:30, since "it's past my bedtime," and they're trying to talk me out of everything from my career goals to the shirt I just bought. There has to be a balance somewhere between "listening to your opinion" and "I'm 20 freaking years old; I can handle myself." I just have to find it, but it's really hard.
Now I need to figure out how to pack for 4 months in winter. It was hard enough fitting all I needed for three months in summer into two suitcases. And I won't even be able to buy books or clothes while I'm in Italy, because I doubt I'll find a place that sells the former in English and I won't be able to afford the later. All my spare money is going towards rail passes and hotel money so that on weekends my roommate (who is also going) and I will be able to go to other European cities.
Wish us luck on finding a college in the UK or Ireland. We're both ready to get the hell out of Columbus, and now is just the time. Cross you fingers that my parents don't hate me forever.
I called my parents to let them know; I've never heard a Congratulations sound angry before. Neither of them want me to go. The last time I left home for a prolonged period, my dad was arrested for OMVI/DUI/DWI the same day. He only recently got his license back.
I love my parents, but they always make me feel guilty about who I am and what I want to do. One minute they're telling me I can do anything, and the next my mom is wondering why I'm still awake at 10:30, since "it's past my bedtime," and they're trying to talk me out of everything from my career goals to the shirt I just bought. There has to be a balance somewhere between "listening to your opinion" and "I'm 20 freaking years old; I can handle myself." I just have to find it, but it's really hard.
Now I need to figure out how to pack for 4 months in winter. It was hard enough fitting all I needed for three months in summer into two suitcases. And I won't even be able to buy books or clothes while I'm in Italy, because I doubt I'll find a place that sells the former in English and I won't be able to afford the later. All my spare money is going towards rail passes and hotel money so that on weekends my roommate (who is also going) and I will be able to go to other European cities.
Wish us luck on finding a college in the UK or Ireland. We're both ready to get the hell out of Columbus, and now is just the time. Cross you fingers that my parents don't hate me forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)