grammie rosie

I am missing my grammie today. She passed away 4 years ago, and I miss her, almost daily. What I miss most is how she made me feel. I always felt special to her. She was always interested in what I was doing; who I was becoming. As a child, I was always at her house. As I grew older, our relationship evolved. I lived close to her until I moved away from Maine. We spent many hours together. She would tell me stories of her life, we would look at old photos, and we would talk. I knew most of her friends, and she most of mine. Strange, I don't know hardly any of my friends grandparents. People enjoyed being around her. Her eyes sparkled, and her smile let you know how happy she was to see you. I miss those eyes.

Often she and I would go shopping. She was always up for an outing. She enjoyed sitting in the mall, while I shopped. When I would return, I would almost always find her chatting away with someone..."well they just started talking to me" she would say. When I was in college (OT school), another student, who I had never met, made it a point to tell me that she met grammie a church retreat, and how much she enjoyed meeting her.

She was always willing to go on an adventure and try new things. She loved sushi and Thai food (both of which she tried in her 80's). In the summer she would go camping with us, and rarely turned down a chance to travel. Her motto was "I'm 80, who is going to tell me no"

She turned 90 the summer before she died. She fell and broke her hip, while making her bed. She came through the surgery fine. I called her to talk, the night after her surgery. We were joking about me not making my bed, and how she was too nosey to die....that she would be around till she was at least 100. She laughed, and then said "no, it's ok, I'll go when it is my time." The next day she had a heart attack and died. I am grateful she didn't suffer and remained fairly independent till the end. Her mind was sharp, and spirit was young.



To celebrate her 'Joie De Vivre', I'll leave you with this happy yarn, colorful like my grammie. Stormy Sea, dyed by Gale's Art, 250 yards of worsted weight, 2ply. Destined to be mittens for my niece and my friend's daughter:

learning to knit

I don't remember learning to knit. I know I learned as a child, and I know my Grammie Rosie taught me. What I don't remember is the actual moment I learned to use sticks and string to make a loop, pull yarn through, and make a stitch. I vaguely remember red 'Red Heart' yarn and aluminum knitting needles. My grammie also taught me to crochet. As a child I remember making 'granny squares' and 'book worm' book marks, I don't crochet anymore. I don't remember knitting anything, except a small misshapen red square.

I got bitten by the knitting bug when I was in OT school. I remember my mom at that time sitting down and refreshing my memory on how to make the loops, pull yarn through and make stitches. I made hats, mittens, socks, knitting on and off for years. When I was pregnant with my son, I was placed on bed rest. With nothing to do (daytime tv was not an option, and I couldn't focus to read), I picked up my knitting. I haven't put it down since.

Knitting, not only provides me with entertainment and a creative outlet, it connects me to my past. Both of my grandmothers knit, my mom still knits. My Grammie Rosie knit basic things, afghans, hats and mittens. In her later years, she mostly knit dish cloths (one of which is pictured above). Every Christmas she would give them as gifts. I can't bear to use the one above, it was the last one she made me before she died. I try to remember her teaching me to knit and crochet, but the memory remains fuzzy. When you're a kid, you don't know that moment will be important one day. She still sits with me when I knit. When I am trying to tell myself that the mistake I made 3 rows back, which I think I can live with because "no one will know it is there"...She tells me, "but, you will know it is there" is always her response. She is right, I fix the mistake and go on. I tell her: "Thank-you grammie, for giving me this gift. Like so many of the things you gave me it came from your heart." Unlike so many material things/gifts that are cast off, I still have knitting to bring me joy, comfort, and connection.

On the knitting front, I have been sock crazy. I currently have 3 pairs in various stages of completion, and am thinking about casting on another pair in some of the 'Bearfoot' I picked-up last week. They are the perfect summer project, portable and small. Our summer has been pretty cool (I am not complaining, I hate hot, humid weather), so I have not had to put away the knitting. My last order from the Loopy Ewe put me in 'Loopy Groupie' status, with lots of cool stuff included in the package. I generally try to shop at my LYSs, but TLE has lots of great independent dyers, that I can't find here, and their customer service is great.
Here are my Mini Mochi socks, heel is turned and I am on the home stretch: