Seven Things Week 10

This last Friday we prepared to evacuate our home in the face of an out of control bushfire that was (and still is) 8 kilometres away.  Ours is among the first houses in the direct path of the fire. That tends to concentrate the mind about what is important.

I packed the dogs, medications, our laptops and vital personal documents (certificates and passports) and enough undies for a week and a couple of changes of clothes and shoes each.

And then I turned to the inessential but important things.  For me it was our wedding photos, my jewellery and family items - my great, great, great  grandmother's chest brought out from Ireland in the 1850s, my great grandfather's WWI diary, the recordings my father sent to my mother when he was serving in Vietnam, the recordings of family funerals, and some other family desiderata.

And then I packed a set of interchangeable knitting needles and a 2k cone of lace weight organic merino and cashmere.  Because I am still me and I had the time and space.

It all fitted into the back of our 19 year old Corolla with quite a lot of room to spare. 

So that and my husband (whom I left at the house to put out spot fires), are the things I value most.  Useful to know in this latest journey of decluttering.

Snowie (front) and Dora ready to be evacuated

A poor photo (I was in a hurry), of a not full boot of a 1999 Corolla hatchback

IN

1	Sarong	The Green Shed	I really love the free bins at the Green Shed
1	suitcase wetpack	The Green Shed	no more totally wet suitcase from my swimmers while I’m travelling - more from the free bins
1	insulated lunch bag	The Green Shed	I probably didn’t really need to bring this home but it was cute and free - I’m not perfect

OUT

80	balls of yarn	destash	getting rid of yarn is really hard
3	pairs undies	bin	last of the ASOS cheapies - lesson learned
14	pavers	gift
5	tops	op shop
1	pair trousers	op shop	They were fine but I would have need to buy or make tops to go with them.  Easier to let them go than create more things.
180	reels of nylon binding	Buy Nothing Community	no tomato plant will go unsupported this year!
5	dresses	op shop	Try them on and if they don't fit well, they go
35	sewing needles	Paper and the Works	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
4	sewing needles	bin	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
1	lip balm	bin	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
3	pencil toppers	bin	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
10	hair clips	op shop	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
5	decorative tins	op shop	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
3	pin tins	Paper and the Works	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
1	knitting needle	Paper and the Works	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
32	stitch markers	Knitters Guild	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
1	thimble	gift	Hot afternoon declutter of my knitting tools trolley
8	buttons	used on a knitted garment
153	balls of yarn	Knitters Guild	It’s a lot easier to give it away than it is to sell it.  I value my time.
10	shirts	op shop	TOF succumbed to my suggestions (nagging is such an ugly word) that he look at the shirts he didn’t wear last winter
2	looms	Paper and the Works
6	craft books	Paper and the Works
562

NETT OUT 559

total out since 27 August 2018 = 3658

Get 'em while they are young

Fate?

Dunno about Australia, but I literally rode on the sheep's back!

My nanna and me September? 1967, "Sunnyglee", Jerilderie, NSW.

I was 20 months old.  If you look closely, I'm wearing a handknitted bonnet and jumper.  The corduroy overalls would have been cut down from a pair of trousers belonging to my grandfather or uncle.  The jumper would have been reknitted from one of their old jumpers, too.  Mum made all my clothes, mostly from recycled materials.

Mum and I lived with her parents while Dad served in Vietnam. My grandparents raised sheep and wheat at Jerilderie. There are always lambs that are hand-reared. The one I'm sitting on was probably one of the house lambs that year.

Packing up

I am writing this from Mum's hospital room.  Yep, again.

This is her third hospitalisation this year.  I am waiting for the medical staff to finish their meeting with the nursing, physiotherapy and social work staff who are deciding Mum's fate.

As soon as a place is available she will be moved to respite care, pending a nursing home.  It's not going down well with Mum, although she's so sore and tired at the moment the fight isn't really there.

This morning before coming to the hospital, I started looking at the house with an eye to packing it up.  Fortunately Mum is a neat freak so it's not going to be a task like on the tv show "Hoarders" as a friend on Facebook imagined.  It's just going to be emotionally difficult and physically challenging.

The kitchen and linen cupboard look like the best places to start.  Fewer items of sentimental value and I cleared out the extraneous from the linen cupboard in January.  I'm going for easy wins in the first few days. 

The craft stuff, too, has to be dealt with.  Again, I've culled this fairly well in the last six months.  Moving things on will be easy enough - I know lots of people who can use craft supplies - but there will be things I want to keep such as the length of tartan in the family pattern bought in Scotland and a gift from a dear family friend (long dead); the Brussels lace bought for me by my grandmother for my wedding dress (poor deluded but well-meaning woman); and the vintage vyellas and batistes.  I can't and won't keep it all, but some of it will come home.

Raw

I finally got under Mum's house today to start clearing away Dad's workshop and 45 years of family life.

I've made two trips to Tiny's Green Shed, the re-use facility at Mugga Way tip, the car dangerously loaded.

Dad's trained as an electrician in the Air Force.  He was also a keen gardener and adaptive re-user before it was trendy.  It was how he and we grew up.  His workshop is full of tools and boxes upon boxes of useful things, or things that might be useful one day.  He spent a lot of time fixing things and creating things under the house. Mum can't go in, she keeps seeing him at the bench.  I know what she means.  He is very present in that place.

It is really hard to dismantle that.

My brother has been slowy removing Dad's tools.  As he needs something, he removes it and doesn't return it.  My brother, although he lives next door and is currently on leave, is keeping well clear while I deal with the other stuff. 

When Dad died, I was the strong one.  One of us had to do the organising and holding it together.  I didn't do a very good job of holding it together today.  I only had to pull off the road twice to howl.

I'm not counting any of the things from under the house as outs.  If I stop and think about it long enough to enumerate I will be paralysed.

While this is emotionally horrible, it's necessary.  I can also recommend being responsible for getting rid of someone else's shit as an antidote to consumerism.

Easter Lilies

I know you will appreciate these.

Filet crochet pillowshams in a lily pattern made by the Old Flames' maternal grandmother.


The Old Flame's mother had a clean out of the linen cupboard and thought I might like these. She remembers them being on her mother's bed over pink encased pillows.

They are lovely, special pieces which are about to go on the bed. She couldn't have chosen a better gift.

Unprepared

The things one has in one's hot little mitts when one doesn't have a spindle handy! And I love the possum/merino blend yarn.

Thank you all for your condolences on Nanna's passing. The funeral in Wagga was small without fuss - she would have approved. I'm very glad I won't have to delivery any more eulogies for grandparents.

Knit on, Nan

My Nanna, that yarn stealing 90 year old, left us today at 5pm.

We were prepared for her going, although we didn't know when.

My mother, her youngest daughter, got to see her and spend time with her just a couple of weeks ago and was content. My brother saw her only yesterday. He is probably the most surprised of all of us.

I was close to Nanna for a very long time.

When Dad was sent to Vietnam, Mum and I lived with them on the farm at Jerilderie. A few years later they sold the farm and came to live in Canberra to be near us and I saw her most weeks after that.

She helped teach me to knit and to do fancy work (embroidery) and for a few years, there, I was her yarn supplier for blanket squares which I sewed together for the Red Cross - she really hated sewing up.

We made dolls' clothes together, first for my dolls and then for hers. When Mum and Dad started going away for the winter, I'd come down from Sydney every couple of weeks to see she was alright.

She was a hard woman and a generous one. Once her mind was fixed on something there was nothing you could do to change it.

She made the best boiled fruit cakes and Christmas puddings and the worst savoury mince.

Her life was a hard one but mine is the richer for having her as a grandmother.

Knit on, Dot.

Take the last train to Snotsville

It's official, I'm allergic to the Riverina and have returned with a raging case of allergic rhinitis. You don't need all the details but my nose is so swollen and sore I can't wear my glasses. Computer time is limited to how long I can squint at the screen; which is not all that long.

Nanna's happy and wonderfully cared for in the Narrandera Nursing Home. Thank you all for your good wishes.

When we got there Saturday she and my aunt were sitting in the courtyard knitting. We sat for a while, three generations of us, knitting.

Nan is not asleep. She is working out how to steal my yarn. The geranium coloured yarn in front of her was, momentarily, my aunt's but Nan decided she like it better than the pale blue and that the pattern was boring anyway. She really liked the Naturally Aspire I was knitting into brioche stitch scarf. I had to move it from her reach.

(details on Ravelry)

There were sheep on the road - been a while since I've seen that.

Somewhere on the "short cut" between Leeton and Ardlethan that added an hour to the journey home.

There was op-shopping in Temora, Young and Yass. Total haul 2 pieces Tupperware ($1.50), 2 pairs new swimmers ($4), 3 blouses ($8), and 2 balls old Patonyle ($2).

Salvos shop in Young

And there was more dealing with Nanna's stuff. Several more cartons of dolls have now found appreciative homes, books have been delivered to Lifeline and clothes to various op-shops and the Old Flame scored a pressure cooker for his putative still.

Manana

Or actually, sometime next week.

Mum and I are off to the Riverina for the weekend to visit Nanna. She had a heart attack on Christmas Eve which made her fall and break her hip. She's pulled through it all and we're seeing her in her new home in Narrandera for the first time.

Oh, and there may be a little light op-shopping on the way home. Monday is a public holiday in the ACT but not in encircling NSW.

Maintain the Rage!

No fancy pants Robbie Burns titles today - no time to be waylaid by his poetry.

TSS has blogged about our little trip to OPH for The Dismissal tour.

The Dismissal was 33 years ago yesterday and remains an enduring memory of my childhood. I was in 4th class at a Canberra public primary school and remember the feeling of anticipation, dread, grief and anger that emanated from teachers and other adults. It was a confusing and exciting day for a 9 year old.

Because TSS needs more of an understanding of Australian history, because I'm a history and politics junkie, and because the Old Flame is a good sport, we arrived at OPH and paid the family rate of $5 entry between us (ha!) instead of $2 each.

We got to re-enact the journey of the day throughout Old Parliament House. The House of Reps, the Senate, the Cabinet Room, the Prime Minister's Office, the Press Gallery etc.

The Old Flame as Sir John Kerr

I was seriously thrilled to actually to be in those places, particularly the House of Representatives - the people's house.

But I was more thrilled to do this -

Knitting the the Senate, in the public galleries of which I was made to surrender my knitting - I was only 8 or 9 at the time.

TSS & I knitting in the House of Representatives. I deliberately took green knitting.

And triumphant with the (replica) mace topped with a TTWC which TSS knitted during the tour.

At least four guides told me that knitting was forbidden in Parliament House. Yeah, I know. If you live long enough, you win!

But we hae meat, and we can eat

Tomorrow is Melbourne Cup Day. In Canberra this marks the start of the Christmas party season.

I approach Christmas with mixed feelings. Celebrations will be different this year. We'll be starting new traditions which is lovely, and farwelling old ones which is sad.

Some things don't change, though, and that will be the menu Chez Taph. Traditional baked meal (ham, pork and turkey with as many veg as can fit on a plate) and Christmas pudding for afters with an alternative of fruit sorbet for the gluten and/or dairy intolerant among us.

Apologies if this is too soon for some of you (or too late), but I bought our Christmas turkey and joint of pork today. I feel more organised now.

Seven Things Week 58

It rather looks like I'm not trying. Not quite true. I'm spending a fair bit of time dealing with Dad's accumulation of papers and realia. It takes a lot of emotional energy - far more than dealing with my own stuff. I have to be fair to everyone involved, negotiate with the rest of the family, find places for things to go and then physically remove them. I'm just starting on his library. As I gave him most of the books in it, and it is quite extensive, and as he insisted on a dedication for every book, I'm reliving birthdays, Christmases and Fathers' Days and it's fucking tough. So if I don't have the wherewithall at home to do more than create garter stitch scarves in garish colours and worry about not finding seven things of my own to dispose of, you'll just have to bear with me.

IN (3)
1 Tupperware container - new, I had a little accident at a Tupperware party a couple of weeks ago
2 knitting magazines - newsagency on a low day when VK was in stock. I'm only human.

OUT (10)
1 pr jeans - GIFTS & DONATIONS
1 coffee measure, broken - BIN
8 balls yarn - GIFTS & DONATIONS

SHAKE IT ALL ABOUT (4)
2 TTWCs
2 scarves

TOTALS

IN 3
OUT 10
Nett out 7
SIAA 4

And gallant Sir Robert, deep-read in old wines

Ah, a weekend when our only responsibilities were the fur children - frankly much easier to tend than our human dependents and we can lock them outside when they get really annoying.

It was pretty cruisy. No knitting, but we did manage a trip to the Lifeline Bookfair (the Old Flame, although a keen reader and bargain hunter, was a Bookfair virgin), where I bought very, very little - four vintage patterns for the collection and three knitting books.


James Norbury's Traditional Knitting Patterns: from Scandinavia, the British Isles, France, Italy and Other European Countries - fantastic stitch dictionary. Too good to leave behind at $4.
I tried to resist This Woolcraft one but it was $3 and I was powerless against the siren call of the Alice Starmore's "Marina". There's other interesting patterns too - a Kaffe Fasset tapestry design and some Debbie Bliss deliciousness among others. See - gorgeous - had to have that chubby little baby!

I love the vibe at the Bookfair craft book tables. It's never cut-throat as I'm informed the Sci-Fi/Fantasy tables are. Like craft communities everywhere, there is generosity, good humour and helpfulness. This time there was a quilter, an embroiderer, a crocheter and a couple of knitters - we happily passed each other books - making recommendations, laughing at the eighties knits and generally having as good a time as you can without needles.

There was also a little cleaning out up at Mum's. A year of the Seven Things Challenge is good preparation for the sad task of clearing out Dad's stuff. It's still not easy, but I'm having no way near the hideous time my brother is. He'd like to keep our childhood home as a museum. With everyone's permission, we tackled a small portion of Under The House.

Dad had dug out Under The House, concreted it and put in electric light and power outlets. It became his workshop and family storage space. It is the size of half a decent sized three bedroom home and it's absolutely chokka. Dad rarely disposed of anything but at least he was pretty neat. OF and I dealt with the wine (my brother doesn't drink) and some of the toys, games, luggage and obvious "outs" such as the plastic meat trays, ice cream and yoghurt containers kept for seed propagation. I also reclaimed my drill bit set that Dad confiscated because they "were too good for a woman".

Here's the wine that (a) won't fit in my wine cupboard and (b) is probably a bit previous now and we'll be lucky to get 1 in 4 bottles worth drinking. Cheers, Dad.


I'm researching how to make red wine vinegar - does anyone have a gallon jug with a spigot and/or some vinegar mother?

Milestones

Nanna turns 90 today. Happy birthday Nan.

She's already told us that no-one at the nursing home is to know she is 90 - she will admit to 84 at most.

What should be a happy day is also a sad one. Today we bury her youngest brother.

Long time readers might remember Uncle Jack and the story of his Fair Isle cardie.

Two with one blow

What does a snow widow do on a cold Sunday?

A little light weeding about 8am (cold, but not too cold then), hangs out two loads of washing, went to the local farmers' market for veg shop (that's when it started snowing), and headed for Mum's house where there was coffee and fresh onion bagels with cream cheese for breakfast, central heating and knitting.

I finished the first of Mum's next pair of socks but instead of casting on the next one, made an infant sized sock (pattern by Mim Felton) from the leftovers. It was a bit hairy at the end - I finished the baby sock with 2m to spare. That whole knit-faster-so-you-don't-run-out-of-wool technique totally worked this time.

Mum finished a scarf for a friend and we had the company of various nieces and nephew, brother and SIL and very old family friends throughout the day.

And I kidnapped Rosie because Saturday and Sunday nights were definitely two dog nights . Actually they were probably three dog nights but Lochie is terrible to have on the bed, so I made do with Peggy, Rosie and a couple of heat packs.

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

My mother's cousin is with us for a couple of weeks. He's more like a younger brother to Mum than a cousin, having spent a lot of time at their house when they were kids. I like him a lot - much, much more than my other uncles.

He spent 10 days with us in South West Rocks last year and was with us the day we hit the motherload of handknits for the entire North coast at a Vinnies in Laurieton - on a half price sale!

It wasn't a pretty sight that day - he had to make several trips to the car for us and he spent the next week watching us unpick and unravel the very many jumpers we had found.

He must have been paying attention, though, because he arrived on Tuesday with two suitcases. One of his clothes and one of beautiful hand-knitted woollen jumpers from op-shops in his little Queensland town. Mum doesn't know whether to laugh or cry but I'm just so proud!

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Time, of late, has not been my own. The little time that has been mine has been limited or with a different focus. It shouldn't be such a suprise, then, that my approach to knitting is going to have to change along with everything else in my life.

The only thing new I've started in 3 weeks is a washcloth for Old Flame's mother's birthday, and that's pretty much out of necessity rather than desire for the project itself (although the colours are very pretty and if you go ask Spidey , she might show you which of these limited edition cottons she has left).

Other projects on the needles are not portable. I'm rarely in one place for long enough to settle into the large projects (dividing time between work, Mum's and Old Flame's) and none of those places are conducive to concentrating on lace or aran knitting even if I was prepared to heft the bits along with all the other luggage.

However, a knitter has her needs and those needs must be met. I need pretty things, dammit. Pretty things I can conquer without feeling like a complete idiot.

I need a beret to keep my head warm on morning walks with the dogs, thick socks to go under hiking boots, and a suitable project to knit when Dexter comes on free to air next month.

So I'm thinking this beret in some Annie Gregg handspun I bought last year in Tarcutta, a retake of the Thuja socks in some Caressa DK (maybe) and this balaclava in Debbie Bliss DK silk for the Dexter project because he wears a silk mask sometimes.

Unfortuantely, I also have to knit this into about 6 metres trim for a Christmas in July outfit. OK, so I don't have to, but the yarn was a swap (and therefore free), as opposed to $17.95 a metre for the maribou feather trim.

(photo stolen from AmandaJ)

And is this a good time to mention that I want to reduce my boodle by two-thirds by the end of 2009? It's not that I have too much, you understand, just that I want to have less. Stop that laughing right now or you'll be struck off the potential recipient list.

Life goes on

I've been hearing Dad say "Life goes on, Princess" all week. It does, but yesterday more than 300 family and friends gathered to honour his life.

It was bigger than Ben Hur and everyone involved did him proud.

And there was knitting. Mum had a bedsock in progress tucked into her handbag just in case (her urge to knit during the entire service was very strong) and one of my nieces carried her last piece of knitting in her hand with her hankie for comfort and because she finished it the last time she saw Poppy.

There has, of course, been knitting all week. We both knitted at the hospital with him before he died and Mum has "knitted her way to heaven" (her words) since and has made eight or nine more pairs of bedsocks.

I've made the girls calorimetries to match their school uniforms and a spare one for whoever needs one next. Socks have been finished, scarves have been finished and there are only 3 or 4 WIPs hanging around. Grief and stress are great for startitis - I don't recommend the cure.

Family and friends have rallied around and the Old Flame has been amazing, giving me strength, support, normality and chocolate as necessary.

The support from you all has been wonderful. Each night I've come home from a day of organisation, preparation and negotiation and been heartened by messages, emails, flowers and gifts. Thank you, you wonderful community of women.

CIB
10/01/1941-29/05/2008

Today we lost my difficult, darling, devoted Dad.

I have no words.

Sunday

Thanks to Cindy2Paw, Tink and AmandaJ for looking for the book. I can get one on inter-library loan or even buy one on Abebooks, just thought it was worth asking. The exhibition is going to be fantastic - more details as they become available.

I am thrilled to report that Mr. C loved, loved, loved, loved his birthday socks and there was absolutely no sliding around on tiled floors (while his mother was in the room). Ya know, there's knitting because ya love the process, and sometimes there's a payoff!



Mum's sock production has slowed but she's plugging away. She's loving this combination and making them in blokey sizes. This is one of 3 pairs in these colours.