The last bit of the hurricane season is proving to be quite serious. Don’t worry, we hardly ever get hurricanes. We do get tropical waves and tropical storms though. And that means we’re having lots and lots of rain these days.
We did have a little bit of water coming in (the windows aren’t exactly build to keep water out and there’s this one wall that’s half under the surface of the hill) but we’re happy to be high enough not to have any of the “flooding in the usual places”- as our weather channel calls it. The clouds are blocking the sun, so we don’t get enough power from our solar systems these days, but luckily we do have a back-up from the power company now (we did without for almost two years).
So – mindful about people being less fortunate with this weather – I’m actually quite enjoying it. Everything is so green right now and there are flowers and blooms everywhere.
Um, ignore the mess in that last picture. Weeds are growing really fast too these days. I have been wanting to do “in my garden” posts for a while, but I get stuck overthinking it, because taking good pictures of the garden as a whole is pretty much impossible. And then I don’t take pictures at all (the other pictures are plants on or around our porch). And I wonder what to tell you about that garden anyway. It’s not a regular vegetable garden that keeps changing over the months. And who is interested in a garden in a very specific climate (tropical island) anyway? As I said, overthinking.
Because I’d be interested to see it myself and it will be fun to try and capture the things I notice (it will also help me to notice more, I think). And it will be even more fun to talk about my plans and ideas and dreams… Yes, it will be great to do garden posts…
So I plan on sharing more next week. (There, that’s a promise, now I have to do it, don’t I?)
This post almost was never written. Not that I had issues with it, on the contrary. I had been thinking about what pictures to take and what to write, but I got so distracted with other things that I forgot to actually take those pictures and type those words. Go figure. Serious case of brain fog (I’ve been sick with who knows what (tested negative for C.), still very tired, but feeling better).
I’m knitting away on the baby blanket, though it’s not going as fast as I’d like and I’m not enjoying it as much as I thought I would. The pattern is great, there’s nothing wrong with that. Easy to remember, but not too boring.
It’s the yarn. I thought I was buying a “real brand”(Red Heart), instead of the vague Italian (?) stuff I bought at the other shop, but it’s so scratchy and squeaky, that it’s just not fun to work with and quite hard on my slightly arthritic hands. I found out you can soften it up with hair conditioner and laundry softener. I am going to do that when I’m done knitting, but I’m not brave enough to wash a skein of yarn. Seems to me that it will become a tangled mess, even in a laundry bag. Maybe I’ll try with the brighter blue I bought, but decided to dismiss for the blanket.
(for those wondering why I’m using acrylic yarn: 1. both parents of the baby are allergic to wool, 2. it’s the only yarn available on the island, 3. budget)
Anyway. I do love how it’s turning out. Each color change makes it look better. In the end, it’s going to be a great (and soft) baby blanket.
Even though I love the act of reorganizing books, I am not too fond of decluttering my bookcase. I have a (genetic, I think) tendency to buy and collect way too many books, but I only have one (rather big) bookcase. And I promised T. not to add another one. That promise was made long ago, when we still lived in the Netherlands, to keep the collection from growing to big (it really helps to have limited space). I have to admit I can get a bit envious when I see pictures of extensive home libraries. Two of my girls also inherited that book collecting tendency; they too have lots and lots of books and several bookcases and even though I try to share my wisdom (ha!) about keeping it curated, I do feel a bit jealous sometimes when they just add another bookcase because they ran out of space. Of course, my one bookcase is filled to the brim. No decorative little stacks of books accompanied by other knickknacks for me. Nope. Waste of space, if you ask me. Those shelves need to hold books. Lots of books. I do try to stay away from double rows though. I used to do that, but I realized a few years ago that it’s no use to keep books I can’t see or reach and probably will forget I owned in the first place.
And that’s why my bookcase needed a thorough decluttering. I had some double rows appear out of nowhere (that happens, you know, even in a country with very few opportunities to buy books) and I was on the slippery slope of defending that moving my herbal and medical books to a different place (not an extra bookcase, I just wanted to create a space to keep them with my herbs and herbal concoctions – so sneaky) was just the right thing to do. It had to stop.
But it was hard. Getting rid of some of those books meant admitting that I will never have the time, nor the headspace, to study all the topics that interest me, and giving up on the idea that I can teach myself to like reading “real literature”. There were books that made me believe I could get my life in order or my body strong and healthy and even though I know those methods don’t work for me, it took me a while to put them in the donate pile. There were stories I believed could inspire me to be a different person; they never did, but maybe they would in the future… And then there were books I had loved to read, but I would probably never read them again. Or would I? It was a struggle, really. But it also felt so, so good to do it. I needed a fresh start.
Apart from a few cook books in my kitchen and the novels I wrote myself, that are on display in our living room, all the books we own are in (okay, and on top of) the bookcase now, in single rows (actually most of them are mine – T. has very few books). Well, except for my Agatha Christie collection (bottom shelf). I have all her books and I feel triple rows are just very sensible. Otherwise they would take up more than three shelves and this just contains them nicely. Never mind that I can’t see them all and never really reread at least half of them. Ahem…
Gosh, I’m long winded these days… I actually just wanted to tell you what I was thinking about when I was making those though decisions about what to keep and what not.
We book lovers tend to think we are above the mere act of collecting. After all, the books we own contain beautiful words, deep thoughts, interesting stories and useful knowledge. I used to believe that. I really thought that collecting books was very different from collecting stamps, or dolls, or teacups or… you know, stuff. So why do I want to keep books after I’ve read them? If I’m honest with myself it’s because I want to own the vessel containing those beautiful words, deep thoughts, interesting stories, and useful knowledge. And of course there’s nothing wrong with that. But do I really need to own everything I ever thought to be beautiful, deep, interesting or useful? For anything else but books the answer would be a very strong “no, of course not!”. I’m not a hoarder. Or am I? Are books really different?
After seeing my parents struggling with letting go of 75% of their books five years ago, and helping my father to get rid of another 50% (or more? I think it was more) of the remains this summer, I realized I had to change the way I feel about my books.
(this is just me, by the way, I am by no means forcing this upon others, just sharing).
I do want to have a nice collection of books that I love to pick up and reread, but I don’t, really I don’t, want to be emotional attached to them, or even to the thought of having them. If I ever lose my books, or have to downsize my bookcase, I just want to remember them (or rather the words, thoughts, stories and knowledge in them) fondly without being too sad about letting them go. People are important, stuff is not. Books are stuff.
So, I guess I do need to go through that bottom shelf…
… unpacked lots and lots of photo albums and some dear keepsakes (I know, I have to find a way to mend poor Bear’s leg. He’s been like this for years now…)
… started a huge photo decluttering/organizing project (we found out that keeping them in plastic bins is not the best solution in this climate)
… enjoyed working/playing at our new-to-us (bought from a discontinued company) desks (and yes, that wall needs painting, but that’s just one thing on a very long list of things to do in our office space. There’s a reason I never post pictures of it.)
… decorated a major eyesore in aforementioned office, because we both are not feeling physically capable of removing it right now (very heavy iron bars hat used protect a balcony door that is now a just a window – we removed the balcony and replaced the door)
It was an uneventful, but very good weekend. Wishing you all a great start to your week!
When I was pregnant for the first time, I didn’t know much about knitting. They tried to teach me in elementary school, but I hated it. The teacher told me I wouldn’t be able to knit properly because I was left-handed, the same reason she gave for refusing to teach me crochet. I wasn’t really interested anyway. I didn’t like what we had to make and I was very annoyed that the boys of my class got carpentry lessons (that would be so much more fun, I thought). Anyway, my mom wasn’t too much interested in knitting either (I remember a project lying in the bottom of our giant oak closet for years and years), but she helped me to finish the school assignments and that was it for a decade.
My in-laws though, they were much more into knitting. My mother-in-law was raised with knitting socks (no playing or reading before knitting a few rows each day) and though she was never really exited about a project, she always had something on the needles. I watched my sister-in-law knit a cute little sweater for her baby and I loved the idea of making things like that. So when I found out I was pregnant, I decided to knit too.
I photocopied (we’re talking 1991, so no internet) a pattern from a library book and bought a set of needles and some cheap acrylic yarn My plan was to make the babies matching, but not identical, sweaters and trousers. I’m not sure how I managed to read the pattern (nobody taught me) and get started, but I did. Sadly, a few weeks after I cast on, I was rushed off to the hospital for possible early labor and for the rest of my pregnancy I was on medication that helped stop the labor, but also caused very sweaty hands (I was told that was common). That was too much for my newish knitting skills. I also may have reached the harder part of the pattern, I don’t remember. But I do know I deserted my knitting, even though I did bring it with me to the hospital..
Anyway, short story long, I always wonder what would have happened if I had found inspiration on the internet those days. Reading knitting blogs and forums has taught me so much. Why didn’t anyone point out to me that knitting baby blankets would have been a wonderful project for a beginner and why didn’t anyone suggest that thicker needles and better yarn would have been much easier on my sweaty hands? If only someone had cared enough to help me with that, I imagine myself happily knitting myself through four weeks (total) in the hospital and another four (or maybe six? it’s a blur) weeks of not being allowed to do much at home. And oh, those first weeks after the girls were born, when they were still in the hospital and I wasn’t allowed to be with them all day (again: this was 1991). Knitting would have taken the edge off feeling so useless and empty.
Oh well, what’s done is done. You gotta put your behind in your past, as Pumba says in the Lion King (a favorite in our house ever since it came out – we still quote from it). And right now, here I am, knitting a little blanket for my grandson. It brings back a lot of memories and there are some difficulties knitting it, but I’m trying to focus on visions of a happy, healthy little boy that will be wrapped in it, play on it and sleep under it in just a few months.
And yes, if my daughter (or any mom-to-be) decides she wants to knit something for him I will tell her to start with a simple baby blanket.
I’ve been going back and forth between ignoring and posting about “all that happened” last week, but I think I’m not going to write about it. It’s not that interesting and there’s really no need to dwell on the negative. Let’s just focus on the happy little things instead, that’s always the better choice.
When we talked about my kitchen Deb mentioned that my snake plant looked so healthy. It did, and I’m kind of proud of that, but I have a confession to make. I ever so cleverly took a photograph that didn’t show my spider plant (it was behind the snake plant on the table). Because what was in that pot wasn’t looking so well (top right). And neither did the other four pots of snake plants I had..
Once upon a time (i.e. six months ago) these pots (and two more) were full of healthy, leafy spider plants, but this is what’s left of them. I think the roots rotted away because of the overwatering I did before we left. So I took out the ones that still had more or less healthy roots and repotted them. I really, really want them to survive. They are descendants of my daughter’s spider plant, and hers was a descendant of the one I had to leave behind when we moved here. It may sound weird, but I’m kind of attached to them.
“Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.”
I’m sorry that I haven’t been answering your sweet comments, nor reading and commenting on your blogs this week. I had these last few posts prepared, so I decided to go ahead and publish them, but this week has been a rough one. No big stuff, don’t worry, just a bit of sickness and a lot of annoying littlethings that left me exhausted and burnt out. I hope things will be back to (somewhat) normal next week.
I had to adapt the pattern a little bit, but it turned out really well. I had thinner yarn (and thus thinner needles) than the pattern calls for, so I used the amount of stitches to cast on for the bigger size, but kept the length you have to knit at the smaller size. I also added a few stitches (3 at each side) for the underarms, to make the body just a little bit wider.
And then I had to find the right buttons. Oh my. I have so many buttons, but it was really hard to find some for this one.
Still, it ended up just right, I think. Very sophisticated indeed.
(I’m tempted to try and find a pin stripe fabric and make him some very sophisticated trousers to go with this)
I’m slowly going through my restored archives, trying to add the missing pictures back in (if I have them, some of them are lost forever). Last week I found this post about my blue cotton sweater. It’s so funny to look back at that post. At that time, I just thought I was making a summer sweater, may be to wear in the Netherlands, maybe for the cooler moments right here. But this sweater may be one that I will cherish for a long, long time, since it was part of my outfit as “Mother-Of-The-Bride” when E. got married last September. (Oh, that’s exactly one year ago this Sunday. Time flies!)
I remember thinking I needed to knit myself a shawl or a sweater for the wedding since September weather can be very tricky in the Netherlands and most of the wedding was going to be outside. But then I bought a beautiful dress and I realized this sweater was actually the right color and the right design to cover it. So I hurried and finished it just in time.
Well, it turned out to be a beautiful day. The couple got married outside under a giant old oak tree, we had diner inside, but partied outside till late that night (or early in the morning, actually). I wore my sweater until it turned dark and then I changed into jeans and a warm sweater dress, but that’s beside the point. That simple blue sweater turned into something very special and I smile every time I see it.
I thought I had good pictures of me wearing it during the wedding, but I don’t. Apparently, it was even warm enough for me to take it off when we did family and group photo’s. So here it is, on a hanger with the dress and on the bed because I really don’t feel up to modelling it right now (I tried, really, but I’m a mess and even a beautiful sweater can’t remedy that).
NOT A STATION 