New Year's Eve

So, how was your Christmas? Ours turned out to be great, of course. Alyssa, Kit, Karl and Alissa came home on Christmas Eve. Ned had to work on Christmas Eve, and since he is the grill master around here, we decided to change the menu to allow him some time to relax, too. Rather than the steak, as planned, we decided on the spiral cut ham, which had been scheduled to appear on Christmas Day. Still a pretty easy meal with horseradish mashed potatoes, carrots Provence and maple glazed brussel sprouts. Easy that is, if you have electricity to power your electric appliances.

The guys greatly appreciated the fact that Santa sent an assortment of beers before the the main event and headed out to the shack for some manly merriment, while we women manned the home front. The power flickered a couple of times while we were watching Julie and Julia and enjoying the peace afforded by the shack. Then the power failed. We sat by candlelight for about 20 minutes before calling attention to the fact that while the men sat in their toasty power-generated coziness, the house was without such basics as the means to cook their Christmas Eve dinner. That's right, we used a cell phone to call one of their cell phones to get them to notice our plight. (Without electricity, we have no land line service, no water, and no heat; even though we have a wood furnace, we still depend on electricity to power the blower in the house.) Another 10 minutes or so and we were back to very bright surroundings with the tractor purring in the background after Paul hooked up the generator to keep us going. A few minutes of the refrigerator running very loudly and the microwave groaning sent him back outside to adjust the power and we were back in business. The power remained out for a couple of hours, but that didn't interfere with either our tractor-generated dinner or merriment. It seems the microwave has not yet recovered as the clock runs at a pace all its own, but everything and everyone else survived unscathed.

Through it all, the weather was terrible. After the snow came rain, then sleet, then snow and then rain again. The snow cover was glazed in ice reminiscent of the year we spent Christmas at the Glen when Uncle Greg gave each of the kids a snow tube. All the kids went sledding in front of the cabin with the little kids flying across the ice-crusted snow and the big kids (ours) crashing through the ice layer so that they all looked like they had flown through the windshield the next day.

We were smart not to have traveled away from home. In addition to knocking down the power lines, the ice brought down some of our fences. We would have been very upset to return home from a jolly Christmas to find that our cattle had all gone on their own merry way. In the end, it all worked out for the best.

Paul and I headed to Racine on Saturday afternoon. We spent a great evening at Mom's with my Racine siblings and nieces and nephews. And I was right. Being with them does do me a world of good. And, of course, the kids are so much fun. A game of bend-the-rules-my-way Scrabble had Katy heads above the rest in score and time. (French, Katy?) No, I didn't play. But I did enjoy the Apple Pie and Pizza. Yum. Ned's homemade hooch was a big hit; it was especially enjoyable to see his 'shine served up in Waterford crystal. How much more festive can you get? (Apple Pie is a homemade liquid refreshment involving apple cider, brandy, Ever Clear, cranberry juice, cinnamon sticks and a touch of maple syrup. It is simply delish!)

And now it's New Year's Eve. Evan will be coming home from Minneapolis today after yesterday afternoon's check up. He's going just once a week lately; he appreciates the reduced appointments on many levels. It's less driving, less expense and less time focusing on medical issues. Although he's lost weight, he looks great and could even use a shave. A good sign for the New Year. By my count, he's on Day 76, give or take a day. Day 100 is the next milestone. That is when his "permissions" will be evaluated again to see about mingling with the public and children and life in general. He's been pretty content to spend his time with his dogs and just plain healing. Even so, it's clear that he looks forward to normal. So, on Day 76 and counting, I'm wishing Evan and all of us and all of you a Normal New Year!

'Tis the season to procrastinate

Fa La La. We decided to cancel our plans for driving to Racine for Christmas Eve. Darn. I think it's been about 8 years since we all went; it seems like more. But Mother Nature has scheduled a nasty gram to be delivered on both of our scheduled travel days, so we decided to cancel our plans and stay put for the second year in a row.
Kit picked up Alyssa and they both traveled to Karl and Alissa's in Eau Claire, where they will stay tonight. I'll admit that I've been pretty lax in the preparation department. The gift shopping is done, but not one thing is wrapped. And I couldn't find any nunsense for Katy. Some baking is done, but not all of what I had planned. I put the tree on the chest, but have yet to light it. Part of the reason I was so excited to go to Racine, I think, is that being with my brothers and sisters always puts me in a good mood. But, I put off doing the Christmas thing because I knew we wouldn't be here and because I just don't have my heart in it. That has to change. Pretty darned fast.
Jeannine will serve one of Uncle Pete's specialties and we'll have steak, baked potatoes and spinach salad. So no one will starve. They'll have a white elephant gift exchange that will be pale without the gems I had planned to share. Nobody makes egg nog that knocks your socks off like Dad did, but Rick does a close second with his White Russians. Paul and I braved the grocery store last minute rush today to stock our larder with holiday fare. I introduced him to the great liquor department at Trig's, even though we didn't need much there. Then we filled our cart with the essentials and egg nog. Still, I'm dragging my feet.
I have to bake the peanut blossoms tonight; those kisses are getting just plain sickening. And I have to wrap those gifts, which I should be doing now, but procrastinating is so much easier when you convince yourself that you're doing something worthwhile like blogging. La La La La La

Presents

Evan is going to Minneapolis today; he is scheduled to have his line removed. That's about as close as he can get to a perfect present. The decision to remove the line means that he is not expected to need it anymore for frequent blood draws or medications. It means he will not have to order more Heparin for cleaning the line. It means he won't have a tube hanging out of his chest. It means he is healing. It's a great present for him and for all of us.

Go with the flow

Evan is back in the shack with the temperature warm enough to bake most humans. Add to the heat generated by the wood stove, a gaggle of hounds, and you have the cozy atmosphere he likes most. He spends a good deal of his time out there when he's home, which is getting to be for longer spans now. His last appointment in Minneapolis was Wednesday, and he doesn't have to return now until Tuesday, which makes all of us happy.

Last year at this time, we felt as though everything was up in the air. This year is a little better. I'm actually going to bake Christmas cookies tomorrow. It's been a while since I carried off planned baking, so this will be a welcome change of pace. It's surprising that this is our third year of hoping Evan will be OK for Christmas and the first year of those three, that I'm fairly certain that he will be just fine. In fact, we are planning on going to Racine. All of us. I talked to Kit today and he'll be able to swing it. Violet will be spending Christmas in Tulsa with her family. Unfortunately, her grandmother died this week, so she headed to Oklahoma for the funeral and will stay through Christmas. It sounds as if Alyssa and Karl will be able to make the trip as well, so it will be the Ruesch caravan to Racine. If it weren't so far and if we still had a decent horse around here, we could take the one-horse open sleigh, but darn, that just won't work.

It's time to put up the Christmas tree again. This year, like last, we cannot have a real tree in the house. I am going to put up the cute little primitive tree I bought at the last minute last year and truth be told, I'm happy not to have to fuss with a big tree. I feel a little guilty about that. I have lots of beautiful ornaments and trims stashed away, but rather than wasting time fretting about that, I'll look for a Springele recipe and put that special rolling pin to use for the first time ever. I think I should have done this a couple of weeks ago to let the cookies age properly, but it's silly to worry about perfection at this point in my life.

I spent a good deal of time fussing and fuming this week. I committed to making 28 pot holders for a friend to give as Christmas gifts. Making 28 of anything is stupid. Making 28 appliqued pot holders with free-form leaves that had to be stitched, turned inside out and pressed is a reason to be committed. I am including this here only because it will be witnessed by a few other people when I say NEVER AGAIN. Now, I say this not to make by friend feel guilty, but because I do this kind of thing to myself repeatedly. Plain pot holders could have been made, but no, I had to improve them. I made the pattern myself and made it more difficult than it needed to be, but dang, they were really cute. Apples with photo transferred recipe cards appliqued to them. Really cute. But 28?! That's nuts. And of course, I fooled around with the pattern until I thought it was perfect. Tonight at supper, however, Ned used the prototype to take a pan from the oven and made sure to register his opinion on the slightly less than perfect design with a turned up nose. Well, they were perfect for my hand. Almost. That leaf did kind of get in the way. Too bad. They're done and delivered and that's that.

This morning found me finishing a quilt for the fundraiser raffle. The quilt is almost perfect. I do get a little fussy about some things after all. It's just a simple flannel quilt and I figured a little short on yardage for the backing. As is true with almost all of my quilts, I decided a pieced backing is entirely acceptable. In the end, it's even more attractive than one perfect piece. Maybe being able to wing it is even more valuable than perfection. I hope so.

Over the past two years, we've all gotten to be pretty practiced at going with the flow. Evan with his entire life. The rest of us with accepting things as they come and realizing the things we can and can't control. It's true that we'd all appreciate much less practice at being so accepting of uncertainty, but since that is one of the things we can't control, we just keep going.

Knitting philosophically

When you fall asleep before 9, an early wake-up is almost a certainty. After eight hours of running reports and sorting Excel files yesterday, my eyeballs gave out pretty early, so it was not too surprising that I was wide awake by 4:30 this morning. Not wanting to embark on anything noisy or logistically taxing, I warmed a cup of yesterday's coffee and grabbed some knitting. If you don't knit, you should. It is truly one of the most relaxing and productive activities ever invented by man, woman or god.

I learned to knit when I was about 10. Jane and I went to the yarn shop on High Street and learned to knit slippers. Mine were lavender. Two completely different sizes and shapes, but both lavender. I knitted only occasionally between that time and approximately five years ago when I discovered the relaxing advantages and tactile satisfaction of two sticks and some great string. Since that time, I've had something on the needles almost constantly.

My current project is a scarf for my nephew Kevin. It's not a Christmas gift or to mark any momentous occasion, it's just a scarf because I told Kevin I'd make him a scarf. I am trying to duplicate a handsome vertical-striped scarf I saw in a pattern book while in Depth of Field, the great Minneapolis yarn shop. I didn't buy the book, but did make mental note of the instructions to cast on 199 stitches. I can and did do that. The problem with that many stitches on the needle is that it is impossible to judge the true size of the project. I can estimate how long this scarf will be, but 199 stitches gather tightly enough on my needle (24-inch) to create a ruffled look, (no, Kev, I am not making you a ruffled scarf) so I can only estimate the finished product. In other words, even though I can calculate the gauge of my knitting and the size of the finished project, it's still a bit of a mystery as to how the finished scarf will really look simply because I am knitting it sideways to achieve the vertical stripes. It makes me a little nervous. What if it's shorter than expected? After risking raised eyebrows and questions from Macy's sales staff while examining and measuring the men's scarves while my friend Karen was checking out her purchase, I want this to be right. (Although I do have a tape measure in my purse at all times, I thought it more subtle to do the nose to fingertip measuring technique in Macy's. Pulling out the tape measure implies blatant copying; holding a scarf, or any item for that matter, up to your nose and extending it the length of your arm to your fingertip to approximate one yard appears perfectly routine, I'm sure.) I'm using great yarn. Kevin will reap the benefits of leftover black cashmere from Alyssa's hat, gray tweed from a pair of mittens (I think) and red wool from Alyssa's cabled scarf. Still with all the planning and quality ingredients, I won't really know how it turned out until it's completely finished and off the needles.

That's life isn't it? Call casting on 199 stitches an act of faith (or a crap shoot); high quality yarn (even if it is all leftovers), even stitches and the perseverance to keep knitting simply build on that faith (or another roll of the dice) without any certainty of outcome. Yes, I think it looks good now and I think it will be something Kevin likes, but there are no guarantees. And, of course, if it's too short for a scarf, we'll call it a muffler and move on. I can only hope he likes it (and not because this will guilt him into it) and that it helps to keep him warm all winter. And so I keep knitting. And we all keep doing whatever it is that helps us get through each day. And we all hope for the best as we wait for the outcome. It is what knitting and life are all about.