Elated.

"Man's mind once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimension."

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

After months and months of wanting to learn and after passing over hundreds of patterns due to an intimidation factor, I overcame the very thing that has been holding me back.

I drop-kicked my mental block. I defeated my opponent.

You see, many knitting patterns call for the use of 4 double pointed needles. For those of you who don't knit, that means that rather than using the standard two straight knitting needles, one knits on a rotating circle of 4 needles. Each needle has two points, or ends, and the work is pushed from top to bottom while working in a clockwise rotation.

Knitting on double pointed needles serves many functions and purposes. First, it allows for seamless knitting and second, it is perfect for little circular objects, such as the fingers of a glove.

I've really, really, really been wanting to learn how to do this, but I didn't really know of anyone who could help me. So, I did what any abnormal, desperate person would have done. I hauled it to Michael's, bought a few sets of double pointed needles and the yarn I needed for this insanely cute project I have up my sleeve, and I came home and read some cheesy how-to book.

I'm so psyched. You have no idea.

great. big. grin.

Yarn Play

"It is better to create than to be learned, creating is the true essence of life."

~ Barthold Niebhur

I'm up late having a little fun in my studio. Too bad I must rise early and hit up the day job tomorrow. I'm in a fierce knitting mood.

Yarns and buttons and patterns call to me. Yet, I must sleep.

So long weekend. You were fun, ultra-productive, and restful.

'till next time...

Holding On To Forever

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well."

~ Vincent Van Gogh

If you stop and think about it, cameras are quite magical instruments. With the click of a button we are able to freeze moments of time forever and ever.

Forever. Humm....that's pretty powerful.

Someday we will gaze upon photos of days gone by and we will remember. Little by little, memories will tumble from the recesses of our minds and we will re-live those moments.

You've seen people do it. They sit there, studying, losing themselves in the image an old photograph holds.

What do you notice when you take a photograph in your hand?

Do you smell the long forgotten scent of a grandmother's house? Do you remember the sound of a specific laugh or notice a characteristic mannerism or gesture? Do you taste a favorite recipe or hear an old television program play in the background?

The camera is amazing, magical, and perhaps even hauntingly sacred. How else would we forever capture special moments, major events, tiny details, and the faces of our loved ones? And, more importantly, how would we hold on to them forever?

Cozy Morning Reflections

"The world we are experiencing today is the result of our collective consciousness, and if we want a new world, each of us must start taking responsibility for helping create it."

~ Rosemary Rhea

Every now and then I look at this little blog of mine and I wonder why I keep up with it. I question why I am so attached to it and why it's such a huge priority in my life. And, very quickly, I am reminded of the answer.

I write because of days like today.

Mornings when you wake up after a long night of sleep with a puppy curled in your arms who softly whimpers and snuggles closer, begging you for a few more minutes of warm rest. Days when the coffee is already brewed and all you have to do is reach for that favorite mug and the rich creamer. Mornings when you look at your husband as he sleeps and see the genuine peace and escape from the daily stress that is his life.

And you are happy, because the things in life that matter the most are good. All the important things are accounted for and the major worries are zero. You realize that you can sit around and find amazement in a dusting of snow, because when it comes to the big things in your life, you have been blessed.

And you realize what a precious thing life is and how imporant it is to take time for the littles. You know, those tiny, little events and happenings that someday will fall into the cobwebed corners of the mind.

Clouds In My Coffee

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

~ Crowfoot

I believe coffee is a necessity on evenings such as this. Cold. Damp. Blustery.

Even Charlie T. sat by the door with her precious tail between her legs, as I walked about the backyard snapping these photos. "My fur is not thick enough for this," she scolded me.

Burr. Shiver. Chill.

As I fell into my car this morning, toting one large school bag, a lunch box, a bag of dishwasher sanitized coffee mugs (I only rinse at school), and a 32 ounce water bottle, I turned the ignition and found myself greeted by the snowflake light on my dashboard. Perfect, I thought, and a grin spread across my face.

I know I'm pretty much alone in these dreamy visions of winter days, but I can't resist their allure. They tempt me, beckon me, and remind me to pay attention to the smaller things in life. Good books. Fireside chats. Couch cuddles.

As I looked at that snowflake light and adjusted the settings on my heat seat and tuned my radio to the perfect song, I noticed tiny white flecks fall upon my windshield.



Oh my! Could it really be? Was it truly snowing?

And as I continued my drive, the white flakes cascaded upon my car. I loved every minute of it. In fact, I got so excited that I turned on Christmas carols for the children today. All day long, we listened to Burl Ives sing Baby It's Cold Outside and Big Fat Santa, among other festive songs.

So now it's officially snow weather.

I've filled my favorite mug with creamy java and I'm all set for a weekend of fuzzy socks and over sized sweatshirts and studying and knitting.

Allow Me to Explain

"All that really belongs to us is time; even he who has nothing else has that."

~ Baltasar Gracian

I really should be finishing my grades. I mean, they are due at midnight. But I can't. I just can't. The thought of logging into my electronic grade book and looking at columns of fractions and total point values and percents literally has me wanting to jump.

Put it this way; I've been a little...ummm....busy. I seem to have zero time these days. I'm not complaining, because I create these messes for myself, but sometimes I wish I could develop the "I don't care" attitude.

But I can't. I do care.

You see, I've totally redesigned my curriculum and lesson plans for this school year. You'd think that after 7 years I'd have the sixth grade figured out. Well think again. I keep reinventing the wheel, making up newer, more intense units, and ultimately making more work for myself. I just might have created a little problem.

And, then there's graduate school. I really enjoy going to the classes and listening to intelligent people share their teaching experiences, but the papers and presentations and looming mid-term exam are totally cramping my style.

It's this perfection problem I have. I can't just write a paper. I have to analyze it and reread it and critique it a thousand times before I can even begin to think it might be decent enough to turn in. ugh. Why? Why, why why???

I won't even begin to discuss how many knitting orders I have lined up and am currently working on. Whipping up treats for The Yarn Bakery continues to occupy every "free" millisecond I might come across.

So, I've been a little absent lately. However, I'm looking forward to making myself be a bit more reasonable. This pace cannot and will not last.

Big Sigh.

Ok, I'm off to do those grades now. Following that, I'll be making flashcards for my Educational Jurisprudence test and studying landmark court cases and then I'll type up two vocabulary tests for the sixth graders. Ninja and I will eat dinner at 9:30, then we will sit on the kitchen counter and talk and share and discuss....and that will be the best part of my day.

The Seashore at Halloween

"It's a beautiful day. Don't let it get away."

~ U2

Don't tell anyone, but I'm having myself a little 10 minute rest, a little "do nothing," if you will. And, I'm thinking. I'm reflecting. In these quiet moments I'm spending time remembering what a wonderful weekend I just enjoyed.

Restful and Relaxing- no. Wonderful- yes.

Children, trick-or-treating and delicious food. Pony rides on the beach, Dunkin Donut coffee, and boutique shopping. Laughing uncontrollably, parade watching, and great conversations. Oh yea, we sure did have ourselves some good old-fashion fun.

I'll skip the part about some car sickness. That's another story for another time. My chauffeur needed a smooth driving lesson. Ahem.

Sea Witch Parade

"When I was in grade school, they told me to write down what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down happy. They told me I didn't understand the assignment. I told them they didn't understand life."

~ Unknown

Few things in life evoke such sincere happiness as a parade. Take a minute the next time you attend one. People smile, children dash into the streets and return with grins and fists full of sugary treats, bright colors dot the landscape, and laughter softly interrupts marching bands and dances through the air.

Spending the weekend with these adorable kiddos was tops.

Oh yes, parades are a true joy.

Or in this case, a hauntingly ghould time.

A Secret Spot

"So you see, imagination needs moodling - long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering."

~Brenda Ueland

I'd like to climb this tree, but first I'd pack a knapsack. Then I'd begin my careful climb. I 'd perch myself on a sturdy branch, lean against the nubby trunk, and unpack my stash of treasures.

I'd unfold my quilt, drape it over a branch, and take out my book. I'd have a grand view of the neighborhood and a secret hiding place, all to myself.

From high up in the air, my feet would dangle. Or, I'd stretch them out in front of me. I'd find that perfectly comfortable position and silently watch the squirrels scurry from tree to tree. I'd wonder about their winter preparations.

Ultimately, my imagination would get the best of me. I'd find myself drawn into the delicate world of birds and squirrels and acorns and chipmunks. I'd watch them and wonder and make up little stories in my head.

Oh, to have a house in the trees.

Oowwwlll...

"Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble."

~ William Shakespeare, from Macbeth

The lamppost just clicked on, delicately lighting the path to our house. What a perfectly snug evening. Munchkin has perched herself upon the arm of the couch and gently chews her paw, my coffee pot hisses, and I'm sitting in complete calm and quiet. This is the life I love.

All I can hear are the sounds of cars rushing by, leaving sprays of water in their wake. Occasionally, the sound of a horn echoes in the distance, or I notice the firing up of the heater as it practices for its winter marathon.

I sip my java and gaze around, taking in the tender glow of flickering candles. How marvelously cozy it feels. I think I'll reach for my handmade afghan and cover my chilly toes. I'll be needing those fuzzy socks sooner rather than later.

My eyes fall upon one of my favorite childhood stories-- a classic bedtime read.

Popcorn
By Frank Asch

Looking at it makes me hope that all the mamas and papas take time to read to their little ones. happy sigh

And I realize, that even from a young age, I expressed possessive tendencies.

I also come to understand that I found it necessary to catalogue my books in my inaginative, personal library. It seems as if this particualr book only got checked out once.

I smile.

Oh gosh. I love that book.

Reliving Memories

"Just before the death of flowers,

And before they are buried in snow,

There comes a festival season

When nature is all aglow."

~Author Unknown

I remember the strangest stuff. Seriously.

Sometimes, I actually amaze myself with the intricate details I can recall from my early life. I'm talking small, tiny, minuscule details...and I can recall them with the utmost clarity. My mama thinks it's almost spooky, and in a way, I tend to agree with her.

Anyway, recently I've been having this nagging memory from when I was a small, small child of perhaps 3 or 4 years old. I would vividly remember (almost relive) this festival we would attend with my grandfather. I remember eating in a large gymnasium type of place and having pancakes with lots of syrup.

So, in a moment of nostalgia, I was filling my parents in on my recent revelation. And, much to my delight, they confirmed my memory. Indeed we did attend such a festival, as it was a Kaufman Family tradition.

You see, every year the Ohiopyle Fire Department holds a fundraiser where it sells buckwheat cakes and sausage and potatoes and apple cider, served family style, of course. My dad attended this lovely festival as a wee-boy and when I was born, we would go with my grandfather.

I knew it. I knew I was not dreaming this stuff up.

So, if you're thinking that we went back to this sweet little festival, you're absolutely right. Last weekend, we all packed into the car and headed to Ohiopyle. Oh my- those buckwheat cakes were absolutely delicious. Not to mention, I had a ton of fun reliving my childhood memories.

And ya know what? My memories were surprisingly accurate. Other than myself, very few things had changed. I grew. I aged a few decades. My husband came with me. But the town? The event? The building? Nada. No change at all.

What a fun, delicious, and memorable evening.

mmmm....

We Get One

"What distinguishes those of us at the starting line from those of us on the couch is that we learn through running to take what the days give us, what our body will allow us, and what our will can tolerate."

~ John Binghan

Today marks an important day for me. Today, not one single minute went by that I wasn't thankful or happy or overcome with serene calm.

I'm always amazed how the most ordinary days can hold so much significance. I looked around today and observed so many people in the throes of activity: work, conversation, and basic functions. Had they no idea? Were they totally unaware?

Today, seventeen years ago, I got a second chance.

Seventeen years ago, I lay in the Intensive Care Unit at Children's Hospital hooked to a heart-lung machine and sporting a fresh, six-inch incision down the front of my chest. I lay there unconscious, unresponsive, and unaware. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I rose from my slumber only to be greeted by painful breathing, excessively chapped lips, and a most disturbing feeling of nausea. Try vomiting with a freshly split sternum and spread ribs. It's not high up on my list of enjoyable adventures.

But, I overcame. I made it.

Five days later I was home, recovering well, and soaking up my new, prosthetic heart valve.

Therefore, the city of Pittsburgh holds a special place in my heart. It always will. It's a spiritual place for me.

You see, I remember looking out the window of my Children's Hospital room and watching people walk and run and hang out on Forbes Avenue. I enjoyed (eye roll) daily 30 minute wheelchair outings, where I envied the people who ambled up and down the streets. Me? I enjoyed months of highly restricted bed rest. Well, bed rest and 30 minutes of wheelchair time each day. Swell. Just swell.

But, Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh healed me. The doctors worked their magic and made me healthy.

Then, seven years later, I attended college in Pittsburgh. Those four years go down as some of the best in my entire life. Not only that, but I was given the ability and tools to do what I love most-- work with children. Teach them. Learn with them.

Duquesne University taught me. The University gave me my life's work.

As you can see, between healing me and teaching me, Pittsburgh holds a most special place in my heart. Last year, after I ran the Pittsburgh half-marathon, I knew I wanted more. With each tired step, I thought of how I needed to conquer that city, yet at the same time "thank" it. I knew I had to make the next leap and climb the bigger mountain.

So, today, on the seventeenth anniversary of my open heart surgery, I signed up to run the Pittsburgh Marathon,all 26.2 miles.

We only get one spin on the merry-go-round of life.

One.

That's all.

Make it a most amazing spin.

Big, Long, Happy Sigh

"Listen! the wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves,

We have had our summer evenings,

now for October eves!"

~ Humbert Wolfe

October.

October, my most favorite month, how I love you.
How I welcome your short days and cold, clear nights.
And find delight in your frosty mornings.
Oh October, I'm so glad you're here.