On Deaths

In the past few weeks, I've had to contend with a number of deaths--some old, some new.

I'll start with the old. On March 12th, 1990, Lee died. Technically my father through adoption, I now think of him as my stepfather or just "Lee." He was also my abuser for 13 years. Good riddance. That death isn't so hard to deal with.

On March 9th and 10th, 1997, my maternal grandparents, Edward and Evelyn Carl died. They died within twenty-four hours of each other of natural causes. Nana went first, followed by Papa. I still miss them both. Some other time, I'll write more about them.

Now the new. On February 26th, our dog, Jackjob, died. Jack was a 12- or 13-year-old German Shepard mix. We got him from a rescue; he'd been found wandering the median on Route 1 in Raleigh. Jack was friendly but his bark was ferocious--exactly the kind of dog I wanted with two adolescent girls in the house. He loved to play tug but would look at us like we were out of our minds if we tossed a ball for him to chase. "Excuse me. Did you mistake me for a retriever? Perhaps you need glasses."

Jack loved his walks. We picked him up from the rescue before he had been treated for heartworms; he got the treatment several weeks later. For those of you who don't know, after the treatment the dog has to stay sedentary for about six weeks as the heartworms die, decay, and are absorbed. Jack did not like being sedentary. At all. He had been getting walks for several weeks, and suddenly he was without them--and worse, locked in a crate most of the time. Not fair! Being a softy, I would sometimes let him out of his crate to wander the house, as long as he didn't get excited. Once, I did this and then forgot he was out. When I opened the back sliding glass door to put something on the deck, out he went! I called him and he ignored me, so I grabbed a handful of treats and his leash, hoping to catch him. As I ran out the door barefoot, I yelled to Carl to get the car--Jack loved rides almost as much as walks.

Jack wouldn't come when I called, and he wouldn't stop when I threw treats trying to get his attention. He would pause, teasing me into thinking he was going to wait, and let me get within about ten feet before he set off again. He took exactly the route we had been going for his daily walks. When he got the normal end of his walk, he stopped and wagged his tail at me, letting me catch up...finally. After he had had his walk. Carl pulled up at this point, and still wagging his tail, Jack got into the car.

We are missing Jack terribly. The way he would push his head under my feet as I was trying to get my socks and shoes on in the morning. The way he would wait until Carl came to bed before coming up because he knew he could get treats from Carl, but not from me. The way he would insist on watching any bones we gave him. The way he would stand in the entryway to greet anyone coming home. The way he would light up when Carl brought up a chicken from the freezer, and the way he absolutely could not be distracted when the chicken turned into a superchicken at Thanksgiving. The way he would blow his coat in February and October, never quite getting the hang of New England seasons. The way he would push against my chair so hard that if I didn't have my feet planted I'd end up across the room. The way he claimed the library, the only room on the first floor with carpeting. That's where we are keeping his ashes until we decide where to spread them.

And then one more. On March 8th or 9th, I'm not sure which, my internet friend, Christopher Marg died of a heart attack. He was only in his early 30s. I met him through World of Warcraft and had known him for about four years. I don't believe in exaggerating the positives of someone just because they are dead, but Christopher was a sweet man in many ways; online he was generous to a fault. And he got lost in the game no matter how many times he'd been there before. I actually got to have dinner with him when I visited where he lived in Minneapolis, which is where I found out that his lack of direction was not an in-game foible. Our ride home from dinner took a bit longer than anticipated because he had trouble figuring out how to get back to my hotel. I miss hearing his voice online and seeing his boomkin in my way in instances and raids.

This time of year was hard before these past few weeks. Now it's harder. I miss you, dear ones.

Derailed a Bit

This has been a rough week. Kids in physical and emotional pain. Dog difficulties. Oh, yeah...and then there's work. So this blog entry will not be about my knitting, which I have done nothing on this week, but instead about the rest of my life at the moment.

Oldest stepdaughter has been in and out of the hospital three times in the last week+ for stomach problems. Once for testing and twice because she was in too much pain. She's having trouble keeping anything solid down. The doctors have ruled out gall stones as the cause, but beyond that, we're waiting on test results.

Youngest stepson has been diagnosed with non-verbal learning disorder. This means that his verbal skills are off the charts, but his non-verbal skills are wimpy. Think Hulk and Bruce Banner. He has trouble processing chaotic situations, organizing any aspect of his life, and reading social cues, including facial expressions. I always knew the boy loved words; I just didn't know that everything else was so overwhelming for him. He's handling it as well as I think he can, but he's skipped classes, and on Thursday he failed to go to the office when sent and failed to come home or tell us where he was. Add to this that he has a fascination with violence lately. We're trying to ratchet things down here until he sees his doctors on Tuesday.

Youngest stepdaughter told us this morning that she just found out a friend from high school died of cancer recently. I'm feeling for her as she's grieving and facing mortality. I think she needs lots of someones to hug her, and I hope she gathers her friends around her instead of trying to do this pain solo.

And Jack. Jack is a (roughly)12-13-year-old German Shepard mix we got from a shelter about 10 years ago. He's getting old, and for months now, he has had a tumor on his chest--almost certainly a fat tumor, which the vet said was likely, even without testing. It hasn't seemed to cause Jack any discomfort, but it would cost about $1500 to remove, which is more than we're going to be able to spend, particularly with six kids in need of various kinds of support. Besides, he can't stand the vet and is seriously depressed several days after just a bath. I'm not sure he'd survive surgery. This week, probably because he scratched it, the tumor started bleeding. It's also hot to the touch. So we're worrying. We know what the vet will tell us, but we're not going to have the tumor removed. And he's too active still to think about letting him go. So we'll deal.

Oh, yeah. And I'm up to a full page, two-columns and notes in the margins, of a to-do list for work.

So knitting and learning pattern design hasn't been on my mind this week. Here's hoping the coming week is better.

A Sense of Direction

Last year, I got a windfall. My mother had given me some birthday money, and I also received a $100 Amazon credit for some survey work I had done. I decided to use this money to flesh out my knitting library. I followed my usual process: reading reviews, checking candidates out of the library, reviewing them, and then purchasing the ones I thought had staying power.

The design book I chose was Knitwear Design Workshop: A Comprehensive Guide to Handknits by Shirley Paden. So far so good. It's a workbook, so it's not something I'm reading cover-to-cover. Instead, I'm figuring out how to use the book--a tool like my needles and stitch holders.

The first four chapters are the basics, and that's where I'm living now. In these chapters are dozens of charts and tables, as well as a set of silhouettes for making sketches and design notes. I'm not a paper-and-pen notebook kind of person, so I'm trying to figure out how to convert all this to the computer. The tables and text-based notes are easy; word processing and spreadsheets will do the trick, and I might try keeping all of this in OneNote, a program in my MS Office package that I'm liking more and more (I can't believe I'm writing that...).

I'm not as sure about the sketches. I have the ability to scan them in after I've done them, but unlike my daughter, I don't think I'm much of an artist (though maybe I'll add that to my things-I-want-to-learn list!). So I'm not sure what's going to be helpful here. I need the silhouettes for making notes on, but I'd love to find a way to put my notes on the silhouettes in electronic form. Maybe Publisher is my answer. I'll be playing with that next week, I expect.

So tonight, I am creating spreadsheets for measurements and notes. My first project is going to be a sweater for Carl. We've been married for more than five years, so the boyfriend rule no longer applies. (For those who don't know, the rule is that you cannot knit a sweater for a boyfriend; if you do, by the time you're done, he won't be your boyfriend any more, and he'll probably keep the sweater anyway!) I'll write more about the actual sweater in the next post.

Beginning in the Middle

My church has a part of the service called "Joys and Concerns," where anyone can get up and talk (briefly) about what's going on in their lives. When I turned 45, I told the congregation that the first half of my life had been rough--very rough--and that I was hoping the second half would be better. Several older women came up to me after the service and assured me, with knowing looks, that it would be.

I decided at that birthday, now almost a year and a half past, that I wasn't going to wait to see. I was going to make it better. It's taken me that year-plus to define what this process would mean: in a word, it's learning. I'm an educator by trade and by calling, and what I love most is the learning that goes on in and around me. When I teach new courses or redesign old ones, I get so enthusiastic about what I'm learning and what I get to teach.

So in this blog, and in my second half, I'm actively bringing this learning to the rest of my life.

Last year, I learned how to eat. In January 2010, I joined WeightWatchers online, and I have lost about 50 pounds. I feel better and I look better, and I am even wearing some medium(!)-sized clothing. I haven't seen this weight in about ten or twelve years. I'm not done losing weight (and I'm sure I'll have more to say on the process later), but I believe I have spent a successful year learning about food and eating.

Now it's time for a new learning adventure. This year, I'm going to learn to knit the way I really want to. I already know how to put needles together and make articles of clothing. I've done afghans and shawls and baby blankets and scarves and hats and mittens and socks and sweaters and iPod cases. This year, I want to learn to design knitwear--to make truly customized pieces.

This blog is where I'm going to chronicle this learning adventure, including all the inevitable missteps and celebrations. Those of you who join me here, welcome!