Halu-Halo

Every September 12...

we have to start over, or so it seems like it anyway, since 2001.  We spent yesterday like most of you, watching some of the footage and then talking about where we were and what has passed in the last 10 years.  And we said what you have probably said: things have never been the same since that awful day.

After the tragedies on September 11, we went to war.  And just as we all still mourn for those who lost someone on that day, and even attempt to understand the sadness, the fear, the panic and the chaos, I on Sept 12, celebrate the strength of the nation, the friendship of strangers, the rise of heroes among us, and the continued tenacity of the average American.

My second son, C, was born on September 12.  I was in my second stage of labor, and was pushing through the pain as I watched the one year anniversary of September 11 in the background, in a hospital bed in Germany.  When C came into my arms as my first VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean), it was a breath of new hope for me, that miracles can happen even in sadness and mourning.

We military families are still standing strong even after 10 years of conflict.  Surely tired, as one could expect, from the lighting fast operational tempo; it's not an easy life for my generation and those young ones who came in after us. But, I don't have any regret or sadness that I have sent my spouse away. To support him is my small contribution of faith not just in his own need to help his country, but in my belief in public service.  To honor those firefighters, policemen, and individuals that helped their neighbors during that crisis, and to celebrate the life that has since grown from that day.

I hope you all have a peaceful Monday.

Safe, but still bombarded

I thanked my lucky stars on Sunday morning that the DC area survived Irene.  Especially after how the Northeast was shortly pummeled and is still trying to overcome the damage from it.  I, myself, thought for sure we would be out of power for days, with how much our trees bent back and forth.  

Since the entirety of last week was focused on how to prepare for a natural disaster, I completely forgot that school was starting next week.  Seriously...I thought that I had another month left.  

 

I honestly don't remember having this many school supplies until I was in high school.  Or did the binder paper and pens just magically appear in my desk and backpack?  The only thing I recall about school shopping was making sure I had the exact Trapper Keeper I wanted.  I am positive that I surely don't remember my mother sighing and complaining that the-cart-is-so-heavy-already. My poor second child will have that tired scene etched in his memory - how I dragged him to buy school supplies in the dead of night (meaning, 9pm) so completely exhausted that it took the both of us to get the right amount of glue sticks in the cart.

But I'll take it I tell ya, better Avery, Mead, Elmer and Rose Art, rather than Irene.

Happy Hump Day! Here's to perspective!

 

That earthquake was nuthin'

I am, after all, a proud Northern Californian with a few under her belt.  Add that to the yearly earthquake drills we had in school, and our DC tremor was old hat.  We took our places underneath our dining room table and just waited.  I even gave myself a pat on the back for the calm demeanor I had (in general - except my "Get under the table - it's an earthquake!" declaration) throughout the crisis.

But this?  Not so much.

I'm all about having peace if the ground opens up to swallow me, but winds, flooding, and possible evacuation?  Eeeeek, there is no calm Tif here - nope, I'm not even going to pretend.

I made my list and I'm checking it twice.  I'm gassing up the car today and pulling a wad out of the bank just in case.  And hubby, who - by the way - thinks that this storm won't touch us, will be doing a final run for batteries and water tonight.  

And to think we aren't even on the North Carolina coast, where Irene expects to undoubtedly trample through.

I've stocked up on some books I've been wanting to read, in case we are stuck without power, and if Nyla  has run out of juice.  

Hubby has even taken the uber-laissez faire route just to balance out my hyper vigilance, making me even more spastic.  My poor sweet Hubby, he just can't win sometimes.

I hope that that my fellow east coasters stay safe this weekend!  I'll be praying for Irene to change her mind and head East into the waters.

 

 

P.S.  And no, I don't like tornados either.  I'll pass on the Yellow Brick Road experience, thank you.

Dystopia

Next month the Mother's Morning Bookclub a friend and I started is celebrating it's first year anniversary.  I'm in the process of compiling the books we've read this year, and I'm so pleased to note that each of our members brought forward a great variety of books this year!  Of the entire bunch, I would probably have to admit that I am most likely the slowest reader of all of them, but I'm happy to be able to draw so many different book recommendations from them.

We started off the year with Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale.  It was my first time reading Atwood, and she totally turned me on to dystopian novels and apocalyptic fiction.  She writes such an eerie and bleak picture of what the future could hold, but I just couldn't get enough.  After The Handmaid's Tale, I read The Road, The Passage, The Hunger Games trilogy, am almost finished with Uglies series.  And I just finished these:

 

I gobbled these two books down in a flash, almost thankful for the rest time my wrist was insisting that I take.  I was almost always thinking about how I would be able to survive such austere circumstances, as portrayed by these authors.  Would I be just as optimistic as I am now, would I still have the same confidence and Faith?  I, after all, am living the good life now in this great and free country, despite the challenges I face, and the now and then physical pain I feel.  In other places of the world, their norm could be considered just as bad as what's predicted in these books.  And yet, the heart of the average citizen who lives there can be even more pure and Faithful.  Would I be able to stand up to the same test?

When I was at mass yesterday, I prayed that I would.  I sometimes take it for granted that my Faith is always with me, but if I were thrown into an arena to fight my peers to the death at the age of 16 (The Hunger Games, just in case you haven't read it), would I have the same outlook of life?  Or if I had to take my son and walk an endless, dangerous road to warmth and safety (The Road), would I have the emotional stamina to do so?  Or, if my country was blowing up violently all around me, would I have the strength to *know* that I'm going to be alright? (Current events, past history)

I hope so...but until then, I'll be praying for it, and for those who live in such dire straights today.

Hope you all have a productive Monday!

 

 

 

 

When it's all messed up with us humans...

Let's check in with our best friend, shall we, for just a little bit of an escape.

She who doesn't care if our country is in financial crisis, or that war has taken one too many lives.  She who, when I am a little out of sorts, will come and rest her head on my feet when I'm on the computer, or when I'm reading at the table.  She, who doesn't mind being thrown under the covers by my boys, who sleep with her at bedtime.

(birthday cake recipe here)

Do you all remember when we brought her home?  She was a blessing and she is still today, since she somehow manages to take away all of that wondering I've been doing (about our country's future, my children's livelihood, and the security or lack-of that our generation is leaving them with).  She is my own pet therapy.

I have to admit, that it hasn't been completely smooth sailings with our sweet Sugar.  There was the shoe-accident she caused and of course, the seven (SEVEN!) times she ran away when Hubby was deployed, with this being the longest and saddest of the incidences.  

But she more than makes up for it all every day, accepting our family in all of its rambunctious nature, and putting up with the antics the children put her through.  Like riding her like a pony, and chasing her around the house.  And holding out a treat to her until she drools like the Hoover Dam.

So, in this not so great week in our human world, her Birthday is welcomed even more with our eager hearts.

Happy 4th Birthday, our Sugar-y Doogar AKA Brown Sugar AKA Sugar (as named by C) You are, without a doubt, loved through and through by your human family.

A ripple in a pond

My eldest son, G, brought home a planter a couple of weeks ago from school.  He was diligent the first few days he had it, checking on it as it sat on our windowsill, making sure that there was enough moisture in his makeshift greenhouse.

As the days passed he stopped to check on it less and less; paying more attention to all of those fun kid things he loves to do.  He didn't mean to neglect it, but because it was out of his sight, he, simply, forgot.

Until yesterday...the children and I were at the table doing homework, and we started to talk about the hallmarks of spring - the warmer weather, daylight savings, soccer season, and time for planting....

...and he jumped out of his seat like a rocket and screamed, "omigosh! my plant!"

His poor little friend was shriveled up like a cooked bean, and he (my son) whimpered a little.  He went to the sink and gave his friend a drink and even spoke to it, then put it back on the windowsill.

This morning, his little plant was alive and well.

We talked about some lessons, that as an adult, I forget.

...that we cannot forget those things and people that aren't in front of us.

...that we can't take for granted that our surroundings will get better without our contribution.

...and that it's never too late to try.

 

Let's not forget our brothers and sisters across that actually very small pond, in Japan.  

"We must use time creatively" - MLK Jr.

I finished Odessa today, a quick but satisfying knit for a good friend of mine.  She remarked once that she liked one of the ribbed beanies I made, and I thought this made for a more feminine look that I knew seemed more like her.

Odessa's original pattern called for beads to be knitted with the yarn, but I opted not to include the beads, since she has a little tot at home and I didn't want to send over a choking hazard!  I do think however, that when I knit this hat again, I will definitely include it!  The pattern itself is not that difficult.

Peek-a-boo!  I see you!

It's a slouchy version of Odessa.  I knit the body using size 7 needles and knit it a little deeper before decreasing at the top of the hat.  I used Knit Picks Cotton Linen, which I think will be more appropriate for her part of the country.  It will be a great spring hat!  

I spent a great deal of this weekend and today knitting this hat, reading this book, and reflecting on the privilege of when I was born and my life in this country.  That my life would have been so different had I been born even 25 years before or if my family had emigrated elsewhere when I was a child.  My Filipino-Chinese-Scotch-Irish-butulimatelyAmerican children are constant reminders of the successes of social changes, changes led by fine Americans, such as Martin Luther King Jr.

Social changes, of which, I am so eternally grateful for.

"We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now" - MLK Jr.

I hope you all had a great weekend!

Kumbaya

Lots of discombobulation these days...environment, economy, politics.  And all at once it seems; I dread reading newspaper and online headlines.  But I do my best to stay informed for I have a responsibility to try to leave this place better than how I came into it.

Some days though, I just can't take any more of the madness, and I chose to bury my head in the sand yarn.

I realize that the world is always in a state of flux.  Our generation is not the first to encounter war, political unrest and natural disasters.  Nor will it be the last.  But as I knit into these mitts, I thought about our need to take care of one another.  We are one family after all.

I realize that I sound like a simpleton, thinking the world's problems can be solved by us being nice to one another.  I know it's not as easy as this.  But it sure makes me feel better, because it's something I can do from here.   

Just as one cannot knit a garment out of nothing.  It must be done one stitch at a time.  And even if one simply knits easy fingerless mitts, that is one more good thing created in this world.

Pattern: 75-Yard MMmalabrigo Fingerless Mitts

Yarn: Cascade Eco

Needles: Size 7 and 8 double pointed needles

Knit for a friend as part of handmade holidays, modeled by hubby

Wave Effect

Tonight, I completed a late Christmas present for a friend, a project that has given me both comfort and realization while helplessly watching the devastation in Haiti.

 

Pattern Name: Easy Dropped Stich Scarf Pattern

Needles: size 8

Yarn: From my stash!  Worsted merino,appx 300 yards

The shape of this pattern reminds me that the Earth is deceiving...solid and sure beneath my feet, and yet fragile and unpredictable.  That well below all of this concrete and dirt there is a breathing, moving Mother Earth that sometimes shakes everything above her.

  

On Oct 17 1989, the ground shook below my feet.  Technically, it was below my knees, while I was waiting my turn in a confessional at St Cecila Church in San Francisco.  I was jostled around in the box, and in my fear I pounded on the screen, hoping that Father would come over to my side.  Impatient, I exited the booth. The large crucifix in front of the church swayed back and forth; the tall candlesticks had fallen at the altar.

Soon after, my mother and I were in the car to head home and the aftershocks ensued.  The roads buckled like waves, and I hung on as if I was going to be thrown off a boat.  

It was a blessing that my brothers and I were with our mother...though my dad was still missing.  Without electricity, night brought complete darkness and we worried for his safety.  He finally got home hours later, and he revealed that he walked most of the miles from Downtown San Francisco.  For us, it was a happy ending.

It won't be that way for so many people in Haiti.  

 

We can make our own waves, by making, by contributing, by donating, by praying, by sending good vibes and comforting those you know affected.  We cannot think that we can only live in our own bubble, unaffected.  The Earth will shake under each person's feet, at one time or another, and we all will need help.

I hope you have a peaceful weekend.

From Remnants...

President Obama was in our little part of the world today, and while I was unable to get to where he was, I mourned in my own way, alone in front of the computer over streaming live video.

And while I watched and cried loudly, I cut my remnants into strips to make into a quilt for a doll quilt swap on Ravelry.  I had completely ignored the studying I had to do, and the cleaning that needed to be done even in the room I was in, because I was completely within myself in such sorrow.  For while I didn't know any of the wounded or killed personally, I felt the pain of an affected community.  I am after all, a part of this Army Family.

After the Memorial ended, when I looked down at the stacks of strips in front of me, I wondered, "Where do we go from here?"

And I realized....we are like remnants of fabric in this Army community...with contrasting hues, patterns, manufactured in different parts of the world, designed by the thoughts of many designers. 

And I have learned time and time again, that when thrown in a jumble, somehow there is an inspiration of a cohesive fabric from all of these individual parts.  That somehow in the madness, the solidarity of the uniform takes hold.  It just takes time, and people taking steps to connect with one another one by one... 

This Family has a great instinct to care for one another, to empathize and to help heal.   

And I do know a quilt will arise from this.