Petunia rambles on and on….

Yes, at my age.  I’m going out in public naked.  I truly do feel so unclothed.

And bare.  And uncomfortable. 

Long, long ago, when my oldest was 16 and still in high school, he got a part-time job in a local pharmacy.  He stocked the shelves in the store, ran the cash register, as needed, and worked 16-20 hours a week, probably for minimum wage.  My husband and I bought him a cheap, beat-up old VW beetle that he could drive to school and to work.  It came pre-dented, so he wouldn’t feel the need to put any more dents in it.  He was required to pay his own vehicle insurance and gas.  He was grateful for this show of confidence, and the independence it gave him. He didn’t clear a great deal of money after his car responsibilities were met.

But apparently, he was able to put something away each week.

And then, he came home one day and handed me a jewelry box.  When I opened it, inside was a solid gold herringbone chain, about 16 inches long.  It must have taken just about every penny he had cleared for weeks and weeks of time and work.  And he put it on my neck.  That was probably about 1986?? Maybe ’87.

The chain has been off twice.  About 14 years ago, I had to have polyps removed from my vocal cords.  I wasn’t permitted to wear it for throat surgery!  When the staff was getting ready to take me into the operating room, I took it off and handed it to Pop.  When I got to Recovery, he put it back on me.

The next time was about 4 years ago, when K got married.  As Mother of the Bride, I had a fancy satin gown to wear and sparkly jewelry, necklace, earrings, bracelet all matching.  But the necklace was with me, in a wee clutch purse, and was back on that night when I removed my “finery.”

When I woke up on Friday morning, something was scratching at my neck, and I could feel that it was a “bar” loose on my necklace.  When I took it off to have a good look, one of the wee strands was sticking up and away, and then, it just fell out.  I’m afraid that one piece being missing could cause the whole thing to unravel. 

(This picture was taken on my buffet.  It’s a pine piece, really soft wood, with an Antique Pine finish, dark stain and marketed as “distressed” to make it look old.  I’ve had it since 1979, and it’s gotten more distressed over the years!  Looks practically frantic here.  Egad, I didn’t realize how badly it’s marred up until I looked at this picture.  I think I’ll beat each one of the kids, when next I see them, because I’m sure it’s all their fault.)

So it’s off now, and will go to a jeweler for repair.  And they’ll probably laugh at me when I say that I want it fixed.  They’ll think that the price of a jeweler’s time and skill is worth far more than a 16″ gold necklace. 

They really don’t know.

When I got home from my trip to Vulcan’s Rest yesterday, Pop asked me, “Alright, how much yarn did you buy?”  and he had a look on his face that was all, “We’re up to our asses in wool, you’re buying it faster than you can knit it, your time would be better spent in the kitchen cooking me wonderful meals, you’re not going to live long enough to use up what you already have.  Blah, blah, blah.”    I stopped listening to his look.

And I answered him truthfully, as a dutiful wife should always do.  “I didn’t buy any yarn, dear.”

He just snorted.    But it was true.

However, I’m still thinking LACE, LACE and more LACE.  Because my mind has been taken over by aliens and I have no control.

I’m so used to my slippery Addi circular needles or the newer HiyaHiya brand, but I fear the lace will slip right off and I’ll be dropping stitches all over the place, so I got 2 long circs with bamboo tips.  And I got one HUGE needle for a scarf I saw in the store, which is done simply by doing a row every so often with this humonga-needle.   I also figured that if anyone came near me or my camera equipment, it could serve as a weapon.

My spinning wheel came with an all-metal orifice hook, for threading the fiber through.  It is a tool.  It is an implement to get a task done.  It’s done that, over and over.  It’s efficient.  It’s ugly.  It doesn’t look anything like this one!!    For now, it’s going into my spinning basket, lest it catch the interest of one of a pair of small boys I know.  But after they are all set up in their own household, this one will come out and be displayed, because in addition to being funcional and efficient, this one is beautiful.

We also will NEVER tell Pop what I paid for it.  It’ll be our little secret, along with how much I paid for the stupid Poodle.  I can hear him fussing now.  “It’s just a f____ hook!!!”

I found a rack of magazines and noted that many of the Interweave Knits issues were already in my collection.  But I found 3 back issues, from Summer, Fall and Winter of 2005.  As knitting directions don’t go bad on you, like lettuce, I bought them all.  Early 2005 was about when I started back into “intense” knitting, around the time my mother’s health started dramatically declining.  In the beginning, I bought less magazines, not knowing where this was all going to take me, how long the interest might last.  I think I stuck with the ones that looked like they had all simple, easy patterns.  Now, I just get my IK out of the mailbox.

Here’s where the LACE, LACE, LACE overcame my willpower.  One of the enablers working at the shop suggested 2 books when I mentioned my current interest in lace.  The first one had many interesting patterns in it, many that I should be able to do now, but they looked familiar.  Awfully familiar.  This means that either I already bought this book and I’m having a senior moment about recalling the purchase or Daughter has it in her book stash.  (I’m just glad my old brain recognized the patterns before I bought a second copy!!)  The other recommendation was Lace & Eyelets, The Harmony Guides edited by Erica Knight.  I glanced through it in the store, and promply put it on the growing store-stash I was building.

They have a big closet of fiber in the back.  I tried to stay completely away from this area of the store, but the needles are stored back there, and once I was nearby, I thought I’d take a peek.  I resisted the cashmere.  WOW!  When I saw the price for a wee bit of it, I almost dropped the precious stuff on the floor.  Hey, I didn’t pay that much money for my first child.  And I was seriously looking at a 4 oz bag of brown alpaca, for a very warm winter cap for Pop, but it was a medium shade, a golden brown.  If it had been a dark chocolate brown, it would have followed me, too. 

I finally chose 15 oz of soft Merino top, 22 micron, in Midnight Blue. 

And while I was there, I bought a swift and ball winder.  The ones that are here are Daughter’s, bought as a birthday gift for her several years ago, and she’ll be taking them with her.  I’d be lost without them, although now that I think about it, my mother never had either one.  I do remember sitting by her side with my forearms up in the air rather often!

And one last thought before I go.  My dog generally gets haircuts more often than Pop does.  She is a fancy dame Poodle dog.  Well, apparently, she had an appointment to go to the Poodle Spa when we were away last month.  (Thanks, Pop, for letting me know)  We missed it.  When we got back and I called to get her rescheduled, the groomer was on vacation for 2 weeks.  I’ve finally gotten in touch with her and the soonest she can work Sophie in is July 9.  By that time, she’s going to look like a black sheep.

When the boys left this morning, they left their blankies on the couch, and Sophie knew that was done solely for her personal comfort.  This is a sheep poodle hard at work guarding the house.

And the sight I wanted to see was a yarn store.  And water!  And blue skies!

And it was the perfect day to go up to Vulcan’s Rest again.  A smarter person would have gone with about $40 in their wallet and left all plastic home, but we have established, long ago, that I’m not a member of that particular “club.”  I love the little town of Chesapeake City, Md, right on the edge of the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, that crosses the Delmarva Peninsula and effectively makes us an island!

Every time I go up here, I see something different that catches my eye.

If it’s blue, I like it.  But isn’t that pretty?

This is just down the street from the Vulcan’s Rest shop.

I still shudder a bit, every time I see this bridge.  I haven’t driven over it, or even gone over it as a passenger.  There are some things I don’t do well.  Many of them have the word “UP” in them.  I’m just so glad that my route into this town is from the opposite side, and there’s no way I could accidentally get onto the “Road to Hysteria UP.”  The picture was taken at the end of George Street, just a few doors past the shop, at an Observation Area there.   A gentleman was sitting on a bench, enjoying the view.  He mentioned that he was waiting for his wife, who was in some damn shop up the road a bit, full of a whole lot of stuff that he didn’t want any part of.

I knew I’d see her as soon as I got there!!!