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AuburnChick is Feeling Lazy

It’s 9:41pm, and I’m in my jammies.

Actually, I never got out of my jammies from last night.

This was the first Saturday in quite a few when I got to sleep in.  When I got up, I didn’t feel a need to get showered, nor did I have any desire to get out of my night clothes.  I think I brushed my teeth.

Did I clean the house?

Nope.

Did I cook?

Nope.

Did I even brush my hair?

Nope.

What I did is sat my ever-growing behind on the couch and read a book.

I didn’t even feel like knitting.

Around 5pm, I had worn myself out from all of the laziness.

So, I took a nap on the couch.

Um, yeah, the height of laziness, right?

And then I woke up and started catching up on Criminal Minds episodes on this website.  It has links to host sites of this past season’s episodes!  I’m currently in episode 20.

And now that I’ve inspired you to action, I think I’ll go back to my book.

New Projects

You know I am not content to finish one project without casting on another.

I’ve actually got two projects going right now.

You already know about the Mexican Rainbow Shawl.  I’m using Vanna’s Choice yarn, a gift from one of my Bible study friends.

I’m experiencing a bit of anxiety about this project because the pattern was written for DK yarn.  Vanna’s Choice is a heavy worsted.  I debated about modifying the pattern but decided against it.  The center is supposed to be a square.  You can see, in the picture below, that this isn’t the case.  I’m currently working on the short rows that will allow the blanket to take on a semicircle appearance before actually becoming a circle.  It looks a bit wonky, but I hope things wind up working out in the end.

As you can see, the shawl is already rather large, so I decided to begin work on a second project…one that is more portable.

A KnittingHelp friend saw the last prayer shawl I made (the crochet one) and asked if I would be willing to make her one.  She’s having some trouble with her hands.  She is a generous lady, heading up the Canadian Oddball Baby Blanket Project.  I adore her, so it was an easy yes.

She requested black.  I think that’s a smart color to go with.  It will match just about anything she chooses to wear it with.

Here’s my progress so far, after five days…

We’re not traveling this weekend or next, so I hope to finish the black shawl and make significant progress on the other one.  I’m already scheming as to what I’ll put on my needles next.  I’m thinking socks!

A Shawl for AuburnChick

I did it!

I finished my Swallowtail Lace Shawl!  First, the info…

The pattern is free, available here.  I used less than one skein of Malabrigo Lace yarn.  The color is “Forest.”  I used size 4 needles and completed the pattern without any modifications.

Now, on to the pictures before more detailed information…

This is the first lacy shawl I’ve made, and I’m so pleased with the way it turned out.  It was a struggle, as you probably remember.  I had a heck of a time with the nupps.  I figured out that you have to unwrap the yarn from the hand you’re feeding it through when doing the k1, yo, k1, yo, k1 in preparation for the nupps.  Then, when you purl back, purling those stitches as a p5tog, it’s much, much easier.  Trust me…I learned the hard way.

Then, I had a bit of trouble keeping my stitch count.  I kept a stitch marker just after the center stitch and kept a running count on each side of it.  I also found that highlighting the pattern (after Dustina’s comment) was a great way to stay on track.  After completing every odd row, I wrote down the number of stitches, confirming that I had the correct number each time.

After binding off, I had to block it.

I like blocking just about as much as I like making a gauge swatch.

I have the lace blocking wires from Knit Picks, and I’ve tried using them for other projects, but I’ve never quite gotten the hang of it.  I decided to do a bit of research first.  Coincidentally, Knitting Daily posted this right before I was ready to block the shawl, and I also found this video through a different email from Knitting Daily:

Armed with this information, I went out hunting for a foam playmat and checkered cloth.  I finally found the mat at Toys r U:

The package included four of these squares…a very nice size for blocking.

Then, I found the fabric on sale at Joann’s.  Together, they looked like this:

I spent oodles of time pinning and adjusting the wires.  Here’s what it looked like when I was done…

I almost had tears in my eyes when I got finished.  It looked like someone with a lot more knitting know-how had been in my house.

So, where will I wear this shawl?

On the seven-night cruise that the in-laws are treating the family to the week of Thanksgiving.

Wipe the drool off your face.

We’re heading to the south Caribbean.  The Mr.’s parents go on a couple of cruises a year and decided that we would celebrate Chicky’s upcoming graduation and Rooster and my oldest nephew’s upcoming 16th birthdays (I know…Rooster isn’t even 15 yet).

Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.

And I’ll take along my new shawl!

Soccer Chick Makes a Big Decision

See if you can guess by this photo:

That, my friends, is Rollins College women’s soccer team.  Today, Chicky verbally committed to play there in 2010, her Freshman year.

I know it seems strange for a junior (almost a senior) in high school to commit so early, but that’s the name of the game in soccer.  Coaches try to fill their rosters two years in advance.

Chicky called the coach this afternoon.  Signing day won’t be until sometime next Spring.

I am thrilled beyond belief and trusting God to provide the difference between the scholarship she’ll be receiving and the remaining balance of tuition and boarding fees. He has, after all, brought us this far in what has often seemed a very long journey…one that’s not over yet.

I’m looking forward to buying out the bookstore and adorning myself in Rollins apparel:

Happy Dance time!

This Ain’t a Hotel

Ok…so my grammar isn’t perfect, but if you’re from the South, it sounds like home to you.

This morning proved interesting, to say the least.

Chicky was up at the crack of dawn…straightening her hair and beautifying herself for her first day as an “unofficial” senior.  For some reason, I woke up raring to go.  We tend to be the early birds in the family.

I headed into the kitchen, fed Molly, but never saw Aubie and Pele.  They sleep with Rooster.  Apparently he had not gotten up yet, and they were still in his room.

I saw Chicky heading to his door, just about to wake him.

This has become a daily ritual with them.  She yells at him to get up, and he grudgingly obeys.  He doesn’t want to miss his ride, after all.

Throughout the years, I’ve tried to train Rooster to get up to an alarm.  He just cannot seem to do it.  Well, he can, but only when it’s something important, like math team competition or a flight across country to attend a soccer tournament.  But any ordinary day…no way, no how.

It’s not for lack of sleep, because both kids hit the sack between 9 and 9:30 each weeknight.  Yeah, I’m a meanie, but I know that teens need more sleep than is the common perception.

So, I did what a good mom should do.  I stopped Chicky in her tracks and called her into the kitchen, where I explained my plan and the reason.  If Rooster doesn’t learn to get up on time now, he’ll never learn.  It’s a habit that he needs to develop.  If not, he’ll eventually miss college classes and even work.  I figured that paying the repurcussions now would be a whole lot better than losing pay or a job later on down the road.

And so Chicky and I read devotions (quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping males), and we headed off to school.

I gave my friend, the Attendance Lady, a heads-up and asked her not to excuse him when he arrived.  And then I headed off to file papers in the records office during first period, which happened to be my Planning.

And I fretted.

What would Rooster say?  How would he handle himself?  How angry was he going to be at me?

It didn’t take me long to find out.

The clock ticked until it was 8:20, nearly an hour into the school day.  The Attendance Lady found me in the file room and told me that Rooster had just arrived, looking a bit bewildered.  She asked her customary question, “Why are you late?”

She said he shook his head in confusion and muttered, “Nobody woke me up.”

The Attendance Lady and I both laughed, and I was relieved that he seemed to be in okay spirits.  However, I dreaded seeing him later and took great care to avoid him in the hallways.

As I waited for him in the car after school, I played out possible conversations in my mind.  And then I saw him coming.

He made eye contact, grinned a sheepish grin, and shook his head.  And then he relayed his morning.

He said he woke up with a start and noticed the dogs still sleeping.  He started to go back to sleep but took a peek at the clock.  Shocked to see it said 7:47, he jumped out of bed under the assumption that the clocks had stopped functioning.  He went through the house looking at the clocks, but all of them said the same thing.  At the same time, he discovered that Chicky and I were missing, as were our cars.

He heard the shower running and realized that the Mr. was still home.  He, too, had overslept and was late for work.

Like father, like son.

Rooster waited until the Mr. was ready so he could drive him to school.  Nary a word was said.

Rooster had figured that since the Chickster had been looking out for him, things would continue this way indefinitely.  To which I responded that, “This ain’t a hotel where you can request wake-up calls.  Just because we stayed at a Hawthorn last weekend doesn’t mean we’re the Hilton.”

Lesson learned.

Maybe (as evidenced by the pile of dishes that he mysteriously lets pile up every time it’s his turn to wash).

One day, I’ll share the story of how I got Chicky to be ready on time. It’s a good one.

Five Orphans

This was a sad day.  It was the day when five children said goodbye to their mother.

You probably remember my post a few days ago.  I had a few incorrect details.  I didn’t realize it, but there are five, not four, children.  In addition, their mother was engaged, as I read in her obituary.  I found it comforting that she had found love again after losing her husband so tragically.

The funeral was this morning.  Rooster asked if he could attend as a show of support for the kids he attends Youth with.  I gladly obliged and picked him up from school with enough time to let him change to more appropriate clothes.  It was nice to have him beside me.

We got there early, but the church quickly filled as the time for the service drew nearer.

And then it was time.  We stood as the family walked in, led by the five orphaned children.

This was, perhaps, the saddest procession I’ve ever seen.

I watched as the eldest daughter slowly made her way to the front, her right hand tightly grasping that of her youngest sister’s, the other children following behind.

I honestly do not think that there was a dry eye in the church.  I know that the tears flowed freely and abundantly from my own.

The service proceeded with a wonderful message from one of our pastors.  He assured us that the mom had been a follower of Christ and was, thus, reunited with her deceased husband and the baby they lost a few years ago.  That brought a little comfort, but not much.  All I could think about were those five children sitting on the front row.

At the end of the service, we watched as they trailed behind the casket, wiping tears from their eyes.

Sigh…

I know that God allowed this into their lives, but it’s so hard to understand why.  I don’t know what will happen to these children…if they will remain together or even continue attending our church.  I hope so, on both counts.  All I can do is pray and trust that nothing happens without God planning it, and He uses everything to His glory.

May they find comfort in the fact that one day, they too will be reunited with their lost loved ones.  May the Lord wrap His strong arms around them, and may they find rest in Him during the difficult days ahead.

A Contest

No, I’m not giving anything away.  You wish.  I’m afraid that I’m a bit too stingy for that.

But, my friend DivaKnitting is!  And it’s a good one!

Go to her site and check it out!

Dividing Up the Work

One of my readers commented on my post about fixing the garbage disposal.  She said that I never mention the Mr. when I talk about fixing things.

I pondered this comment a bit yesterday…while on the long drive home from West Palm.

How many of you are traditionalists?  Meaning that household chores are divided along traditionally gender accepted lines?

As I was growing up, I watched my mom perform a host of duties that fell way beyond the traditional role of a woman.  My mom demolished rooms in our old home…renovating it completely.  She peeled wallpaper, sanded floors, maintained a very large yard, grew vegetables in her garden, along with a host of other tasks.  I never saw her shirk from a  task, no matter how hard it appeared to be.  I also never saw her ask for help from my step-dad.

I think that this “can-do” message permeated my brain, and I adopted it into my own lifestyle.  As such, I pretty much do anything and everything around the house.  I fix the plumbing, take care of the yard, clean the house, and cook.  I also keep up with the kids’ school stuff…grades, assignments, schedule…you name it.  If it’s related to the children, I’m pretty much in charge of it.  The way I’ve always looked at it is this:  if something needs to be done, why wait for someone else to do it?

I remember the time when I decided to remove the water savers from our faucets.  We’ve always had water pressure problems, and with our thick heads of hair, this simply won’t do.  So, one day I decided to do something.  I remember getting to the kids’ bathtub faucet and being unable to remove it.

What did I do?

Not wait for the Mr. to get home from work.

I went to Home Depot and bought the biggest wrench you’ve ever seen.  No kidding.  It’s huge.  I should take a picture of it, but I’m feeling lazy.

Well, I got the faucet off and removed the water savers, but then I encountered a problem getting it back on.  Try as I might, I could not get it on again.  I worked all afternoon so I wouldn’t have to ask for help.  When the Mr. came home, he found me in the bathroom almost in tears.  After laughing (and grumbling a bit), he got it back on.

I had a friend whose husband worked out-of-state.  During Christmas, she would wait for him to come home and put up the Christmas tree and lights.  Then, the tree would stay up until his next trip home in January to take them down.

I used to stand amazed at this.  If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t have a tree or any decorations.  The Mr. has absolutely no interest in such mundane tasks.

What does the Mr. do?  He goes to work.  He will, occasionally, take care of the car needs, although I’m often at the garage getting the oil changed.  I never get new tires without asking him first, though.  He also handles our financial matters, which I used to do but gave up when I went back to school.  It was simply too much for me.  He takes care of Chicky’s soccer business, although I am in the know.  He corresponds with coaches and keeps up with the schedule.

I hope this explains how our house runs.  I think that in the world we live in, it’s not uncommon to find tasks divided up so non-traditionally.

What about your home?

Home Again Home Again Jiggety Jig

We’re home after another nine hour drive.

Chicky’s team lost yesterday 0-1.  We outplayed the other team, but as any soccer fan knows, it only takes one goal to win.

The girls were disappointed, as was to be expected.  It was obvious to everyone watching that they were the better team.  I guess that the Lord had other plans for them.  Fortunately, Chicky didn’t come off the field crying like last year.  Maybe she had already done it before I got to the team’s bench.

As the game ended, I couldn’t help but reflect on lessons learned from this season.  Y’all have ridden this roller coaster ride with us, so you know the ups and downs we’ve been through.  I think one of the most important things we can walk away with is that Chicky figured out how much soccer means to her.  She truly loves the game, and she wants to play with others who love it as much as she does.  She had waffled for a while, leaving the team for a while to figure things out.  That is no longer the case.  She has a renewed fire in her heart, and it shows through her playing.

The other big lesson we all learned was balance.  Chicky needed balance in her life (as we all do), and drawing a line in the sand became very important way for us to keep her sanity in check (I might debate myself on that point).  You only get to be a teen once (can I hear a hallelujah from all the moms out there!).  Not that I believe in doing whatever you want, but you know what I mean.  If you’ve been reading my blog for very long, you definitely know what I mean.

We eased the sadness of the loss by a delicious dinner at Carrabbas.  We ate with Chicky’s best friend, who will be graduating from high school in a couple of weeks.  They’ve been teammates for six years and, thus, have grown up on the field together.  We shared a lot of laughs around the table last night as the families are quite close.  When you travel together as much as we have, you can’t help but consider each other extended family.  We’ll miss them next season.

Although the Mr. wanted to sleep in, I insisted that we get an early start home.  The kids wanted to get home in time for church, and I wanted to be able to watch the Survivor finale.  I would have much rather watched it online had that meant that Chicky would have been playing in the Finals; however, since that didn’t happen, I figured why not go on home.

The ride was uneventful.  We made far fewer stops this go-round, and I managed not to leave my purse any place either (I had left it at Chick fil A on the way down — which I quickly noticed and went back for).  I took the first shift of driving since the Mr. is not a morning person.

As I navigated the long, boring stretch of the Turnpike, I reminisced about the years I spent toting the kids back and forth to the grandparents’ from our home in Miami.  It was a solid nine-hour drive, and I always took the Turnpike because it was the safest route.  The Mr. had a demanding new job that he could not take time off from.  The kids were amazing in the car after getting out their angst about an hour into the trip.  They would always settle down, somehow understanding that they would be spoiled rotten at the end of the journey.  The worst part for me was the stretch between West Palm Beach and Orlando.

What a barren panorama!  There’s not much to break up the monotony, so I tried to hit it before lunch and a full stomach and, thus, the sleepies. The kids used to sing along to Christian songs on the tapes I played for them.  Now they listen to their iPods or watch movies on their laptops.  Rooster managed to read two of Brad Thor’s books.  His newest one is The Last Patriot.

Do not ask me why, but the Mr., who never, ever reads, went to the bookstore recently and picked up five of this author’s books.  As the kids asked in the car, “Daddy reads?”  To which we heehawed.

I read The Last Patriot last Thursday.  It was a fast read…only taking me about five hours to finish.  The chapters are short, and the topic is relevant to the terrorism threats the world faces today.  The author reminds me of Tom Clancy, without so many technical details.

Rooster flew through this book on the way down and quickly began the author’s first book, which the Mr. just happened to put in the car.  Halfway home today, Rooster had finished it as well.

All-in-all, the ride was quiet.  The Mr. likes to stop at hotels and use their bathrooms since they are so much cleaner than gas stations.  We’ve ceased to be embarrassed as he inquires about directions to local restaurants…his excuse for using their potties.  Today, we stopped at a Hilton, and look what was outside…

A horse-drawn carriage!  The horse’s name is Buddy, and he was a real sweetie, allowing me to give his nose a rub.  I’m such a sucker for animals.

So now we’re home.  Chicky has another tournament Memorial Day weekend.  I’m not even going to bother putting the suitcases away.  I’ll wash our clothes and re-pack them since I need my team t-shirts to wear in support of the girls.

It won’t be long before I’m singing, “On the Road Again…”

Another Adventure!

Yesterday, we spent around nine hours in the car.  Chicky’s team is playing in the Final Four, and the hotel is in West Palm Beach.

Now, you know that we’re always traveling…have been for about six years running.  We’ve been in about every type of fast food and sit-down restaurant, gas station, and hotel.  I should be paid to critique them…that’s how much of a pro I am.

First off, we stopped at what is rated as the #1 Chick fil A franchise in Florida (according to my father-in-law).  I didn’t know this beforehand, as the first place I stopped was the restroom.  Before I got there, we were greeted by a manager, who welcomed us to the location.  He was walking the floor, speaking to the patrons.  Wow!

Folks, there were two tables in the ladies room.  One had an assortment of feminine products.  The other had flowers and other stuff that I can’t remember.  But, it was nice.  Clean.  Stocked with hand towels as well as an air dryer.

Then, as I sat and waited for the Mr. to bring our food to the table, another employee, dressed very professionally with a Chick fil A nametag, asked if I was waiting to place my order.  After telling her I was set, she walked away to assist another customer.

I watched as managers sporting long-sleeve, button-down shirts ran the cash register, assisted by crisp, polo-wearing employees.  All had sincere smiles on their faces.  It was apparent that they were working in an environment they truly enjoyed.

I commented to the manager who stopped by halfway through out meal how impressed I was, explaining how frequently we travel.  It’s called fast food for a reason…in and out…no frills.  He said that he tells his employees that the restaurant begins at the property line.

Good point.

We’ll make sure we visit that location the next time we’re in town.

Onward we went, to our final destination…a Hawthorn Suites that is so new it doesn’t come up on the GPS.

When we inserted the key, we were amazed to see this:

I’m sitting at the table below…blogging right now…flat screen above me…

Walking down the little hallway, we saw this:

And the bathroom…well, what can I say?  It plays a very important role in your get-away experience:

And look at the vanity!  NOBODY puts a vanity in their bathroom!  With a make-up mirror too!

Now, I know what you are thinking.  This must be costing me an arm and a leg.

Well, not quite.  I think I heard the Mr. say that we’re paying $95 per night.  I consider this a good rate considering the amenities.  I mean, there’s tile throughout…the lobby, the elevator.  It’s truly gorgeous!

Saturday morning loomed with nothing to do.  The girls don’t play until 5pm, so we had the entire day in front of us.

What does AuburnChick do when she has this much free time on her hands…in a new city…

See if you can guess from this picture…

You see, I feel like I have a responsibility to my readers (all three of you).  You know I travel, so you naturally expect me to find the best yarn stores around…just in case you might take a trip to the same location.  It was me, after all, who brought you those wonderful pictures from Las Vegas and New Orleans.

Thank goodness for the GPS on my phone.  I must have been a good girl because “she” didn’t cop an attitude this time…i.e. I made no u-turns.

The ladies at Just ImaginKnit were fabulous, as was the selection of yarn.  There was a group of ladies sitting at the table, and as they spoke with their New York accents, I was taken back to the time when I lived in Coral Springs…whose residents had migrated from up north.

Now, I consider it rude to spend time in a yarn store without making a purchase.  Especially since I’m not a “regular.”  If I had my own yarn store and could attend knit nights, then I wouldn’t feel obligated to get anything.

That’s a pretty lame justification, isn’t it?

Ok, ok.  I caved the beautiful color and feel of the yarn.   Hello, my name is AuburnChick, and I’m addicted to buying soft, hand-dyed yarn…especially if it comes in 100g sock weight…

As I left, I gazed upon the window lovingly one last time…

And then I hoofed it back to the hotel so Soccer Chick could get her sneakers out of the back of the car and do some warm-exercises in the parking lot with the team.

If you’re reading this before 5pm, please say a prayer for us…that Chicky would not be injured, and that she would use the talent that God has blessed her with to the best of her ability.