Tuesday

There are many many opinions about blogging, so many blogs I do not even know about, have never found and never will. There are real women I have met because of clicking a link, there are women reading this right now who will never comment or talk to me or meet me in real time. There are people seeking and finding, judging and ranting, communicating or bragging. There are beautiful photos and children and ideas and families and thoughts. There is a whole world of words.

I did not expect to have this outlet in my life, found it due to the whimsy of knitting. I delved deeply into the lives of other knitters, found their lives fascinating and joined in.

Over time I made contact, tentative. I found a voice to use, one I have been reassured is my own. I sought and found other Mamas like me, quantified as "First Time Mothers of Twin Boys Born In April of 07 and Learning the Ropes while Juggling Me". I branched out from these Mamas, found good fits and ill fits in the blogs I frequented.

Then I found Her because She talked about her raw and striking photos. I listened to her story of a twin boy, her LostBaby and I cried a lot when I read Kate's words because they strike the bone. Hard. And then make you laugh. I read here when it was set up for other Mamas of Lost ones. And then found Her because of her shattering writing, her cohesive writing, her provoking funny writing. And then I found Her because of her Daughter's battle against a terrifying disease. And now she is A BabyLost Mama, and I sit grappling with how I came to be so very wounded by this loss.

If I had not read Kate, I might have despaired even deeper in the throes of post baby depression and lost sight of what a missed nap really means. If I had not met Bon, I could not have knit her little one a hat. If I had not met Tuesday, I would have missed out on the most precious Warrior baby child...the most beatific Soul, the light of Many eyes and Hearts. I am not sure of the wound left, know mine is nothing in light of her Mama's and her family. But there is a reason. Isn't there? That we find each other in these ways? If I had not met Jessica Kate, I would not know what a true Mama Warrior looked like. And it is something I have never seen, her grace and strength and love.

It may not seem like much, words at a time like this. When lost ones are not mine. When all sense seems gone. I do not regret the finding of these women. And I so so regret that Tuesday died. Because there are no words for a baby lost. Just prayers.

Tuesday Fiona Whitt
10-11-06 1-30-09

with her twin Piper

F4F :: Baby Gifting

Of late in this post holiday season, I have fallen hard for baby knitting for so many reasons. Fast, cheap (you can use up every bit of your stash) and the teeny things that result are beyond adorable. I have many lovely pregnant friends on which to shower the endless procession of tiny knits coming off of the needles. This is a good thing as we do not need to leave the stuff lying around, reminding me of how frikin' cute tiny babies are. Thank you, my Picasa files do that for me nightly.

The other part is I truly believe in EZ's declaration that every child should have something hand knit. It is a great way to let Mama know that I think their choice to bring a being as special as a child to us is a blessing in ways we cannot describe and only know once we have done it.

One of my favorite gift projects for Mama and Baby is this washcloth in all of its glorious versions.

It is a classic, made from 100% cotton and very user friendly. And one thing I know is that new babies use washcloths. This can be done in the ubiquitously cute 'Baby Feet" pattern, but I have taken to knitting up an initialized version if the parents disclose the baby name.

This one is for Baby Hayden, with an L for her big sister London. I wanted to make sure London was included, as big sister she can 'read' the letters to her little sister someday. I think these washcloths will last that long.

I use the Lily cotton Sugar n Cream for these projects.

Joann/Michaels carry a small assortment, but the colors are fairly insipid and uninspiring. Instead, if you have a good amount of washcloths to knit, you might order here. The color selection is amazing, price very good and shipping reasonable. I ordered from them over two years ago and just ran out.

I used this yarn for the first knitting project post (truly during as I started to knit the washcloth during prep for Csection) Beans

and it has been used and abused and wrung and wiped and washed and still holds up and does its job. Novice knitters, pick up the Mason Dixon book. Oldie but goodie. These two projects could use up any stash left after knitting up your best friend's baby's name-to-be in washcloths (I did it for my sister, the intent was to give her a stack of washcloths. She hung them over the baby's crib. But she will use them someday. I know it).

The other project on the needles is one dear to my heart. The BSJ. You hardcore knitters know what that stands for. It is not done yet because I am savoring the knit. This is the best mind boggling knit ever.

It was my first EZ project and will possibly be reincarnated for the toddler boys I now own. Because have you seen this? Ack. Adorableness. And is it weird I just called knitters hardcore? I shudder to think of my not knit friends reading this.

I will make sure to do a photo shoot of the BSJ (stands for Baby Surprise Jacket for you not in the know). Because it is a marvelous invention by a woman I would quite literally have to die to meet. I do wish Elizabeth Zimmerman was still here just to hear her sassy speak in person. Oh, well, I will have to let the Yarn Harlot fill in that space in my lifetime.

So, have some babies coming your way? Get cracking with the needles. And if you do not knit, why don't you sew up a pair of these?

My latest pair(s) for the boys, soft flannel full of dragons that they roar at when they spot them, which is frequently as they are wearing them on their pants. My favorite part of making them was when they were clamoring to put them on after I sewed the seams up. They like me. Oh, they really really like me.

Happy Friday all, it has been a week that started high, but has ended low for me. Do me a favor? Hug a lot of people this weekend, any you can get your hands on. Because you just don't know. Love.

For Tuesday

I pray sometimes. Actually, I find I pray more than I like to admit. I ascribe to no religion but have a deep faith, in Prayer, in Life, in the Power we hold as beautiful beings that can move mountains.

I have prayed a lot for Tuesday. Some of you have met her through me, I met her because of some of you. And now, she has battled and struggled and been terribly wounded by her cancer. And her family needs our prayers, however you offer them.

I have no other words. No words other than the fact that my heart breaks and bleeds for this family and I can only think to ask for your prayers. For Tuesday, who I have come to love via written word and captured images on a screen. And for all that she is and will be.

52 Weeks :: Squared

So, this weekend I was talking with Tim and we were discussing photography and our camera and all the bits we would love to buy to add onto our digital equipment (expensive little bits all). I mentioned the 52 week project and showed him where I was at. He often browses Flickr and catches up on the blog, but I was not sure if he knew I was adding this to my long list of yearly projects. And then I thought to ask if he would do it with me. And he said yes. He takes most of the really good pictures you see (I have to credit him more often when I use his photos on the blog) and he loves being behind the camera taking pictures of the boys. And her.


But now I am excited to watch him explore being in front of the lens a bit. I think it will be cool to go back and see what the year held for each of us and how we interpret each week. Here is his first.

There is a lot of beard there as last week he spent most of it curled into a wretched ball, battling whatever bug the boys brought home this week from Kiddie Care at the gym. I like it. Not the bugs, the beard.

And mine for the week. Hiking with the boys on a brisk Monday morning.

Tried a few timed shots, but I need some practice on the whole focus thing with the SLR. The hike was great, the boys and I conquered a switchback I once used to bomb on my mountain bike. But I think I like this just as much.

A little funny story. I ditched our double BOB at the base of the switchback to let the boys out to hike. Well, a quarter of the way up I started to hear voices from an upper trail, shouting "Are you okay? Do you need help?". The local hiking club was out in force and had spotted the abandoned BOB and must have thought we were in trouble. I shouted back that we were fine and a few minutes later emerged from the trees to see a bunch of seniors gaping at me for hiking with toddlers. Whatever. They have to learn somehow, right? But I loved their concern. Good folks round here.

Now, back to the boys, some seed planting and completion of a few projects I have been slowly working on.

I joined this challenge and have a specific project I want to complete for January, before the heat hits us again. Sewing has been a little slow, but I think I am getting my rhythm back at the machine. We will see.

On Crafting Hope

I did not start off an Obama supporter. I did not start off interested at all. I checked out of American politics a long time ago, after our trip abroad in '01 when every person asked us how we as a country could have ushered in Bush, and I had to explain, I did not. But no one heard my vote. So I checked out. I was not even excited when Kerry ran because I knew the stranglehold was complete and there was no where to go, no place to appeal to the sense of the political system here. I voted that year, but with a heavy heart, seeing the domination Cheney and others had established, how they had derailed democracy in our name, for our so called protection.

I started to dream of living in Canada or Ireland or outer space (well, not really). I started to dream of living away from organized society, even though I knew not how.

And then along the road, I heard a few conversations among friends about this man. I heard about him running against Hillary, a woman I met once and admired a bit. I felt for her, the way it seemed she just could not find footing as they raced to secure the votes needed to stand as a Democrat, whatever that was now. I wanted her at first then read this and checked out again. Because if she was that bad, how could he be better?

Then I started listening a little closer. To speeches and ideas and I actually felt a little scared at first. Who was this man? What did he really want to do? And how could he possibly do it? Was it possible that he was being heard and believed? And could we believe him? But I did start to tune in. And discussions started to occur in my life, not about the election per se, but about personal responsibility and how to live a life fulfilled, even in the climate of dooming economy and unending battles and shrinking resources.

Then these two things started to converge and I started to believe this man could help us reconnect with the idea that this country once promote, the idea of freedom and achievement and accountability. And then I found a new thing to fear. That even if he did make it, that place called Washington DC would take his ideals and grind him down, that it would sequester him away from the people he professed to lead, chain him in with the need to secure, rope him away from we the people.

And today I realize that fear is unfounded. Because he is a much stronger man, of much deeper conviction and clearer vision than I could have ever hoped for to lead. And I now feel lightened and amazed and heart swollen with the hope. Yes, I am usually a bit more cynical of the world around me than I share. But not right now.



After I watched the Inauguration, I found a link on a new-to-me blog that I have fallen for. Please watch if you have a moment. I sat with goose flesh and tears as I realized we have become the change walking beside the man who brought it all. Thank you, President Obama. Thank you very, very much.

Twenty-first Month

Do you know what I started doing this month? Planning your second birthday party. Why so early, you say? Because I know this Time now, a bit sneaky, a bit like sliding down your favorite tall slide at the park...it accelerates. Last year, we passed on a first birthday celebration, I just could not do it, try to harness the energy to get it all together. At the time I figured it was okay to pass. At one it seemed every day was a celebration to you and a big old party would have had little significance except for us grown ups. Still feel a little guilty about it, though. So this year I am on it with a vengeance.


And it stops me then, that I am talking about your birthday, your second one. The one that ushers in the unutterably hard times (so I have heard) and opens the door to three then four then grown up talking five. And I am not sure about this Time thing, feel like it is starting to snatch things from me even as it provides newness and opportunity. It is both good and scary, how this Time is working now.


But back to the birthday, I decided with your Daddy on an idea for the party, a theme you might say, and I am so very excited and the possibilities for creation keep unfolding and spinning about and making me feel like I am a little child, getting ready for a party of my own. It is a simple idea, one I will not reveal just yet, but one that we can all be a part of, all be unique in, have a say. Because it revels in that which no one can take from you, your imagination.


This imagination has sprung forth, appearing out of no where, as imaginary things do, and playing with us daily. It started with your bread, chewed and bitten, that you started 'playing' with, pretending the bread was a car or a lion or gorilla. I know, I know, children should not play with their food, that is what the grown ups say. But then I watched as you played pretend, made it up, and I could not stop that. It was too precious. And so now, we make things from other things, lateral transfers of knowledge and interest. Focus and fun. It is like that all day, exhausting and entertaining and enchanting.


And the talking, oh my lord, the talking. Maybe it was Oregon as you played with your older cousins, watched and listened.

And then tried it out yourselves. It is almost impossible to stop the words, the near constant conversation, with us and each other, your toys and the plants and anyone else that will stop a minute to listen. There are the funny words, Mace says 'doodles' instead of noodles. Owen says uh-oh and ouch every thirty minutes. Then the phrases that stop me dead in my tracks, like Mace with the 'I no doin' anything'. Right. And how did you pick that one up so early?


Trying to remember the month just passed is getting harder, trying to imagine the changes to come even more so. I know there is so much ahead, but could I ask you, Time, to slow for just a few moments everyday so I can better savor what is? Better catch that which I feel I need to remember as it flits away? Would that be possible?

Just some things this month brought to you:

Running without falling, kissing without slobbering.
Linking railroad tracks and building bridges.
Going up and down stairs without the help of our hands.
Jumping (I wish I had captured your first 'attempt' on video, Mace).
Tantrums in public ending in puddles on the ground.
Fake innocent looks when caught scribbling on walls.
Real looks of indignance when accused of above though you are not.
Naming everyone in the room correctly.
Showing kindness to each other daily.
Showing brute aggression to each other hourly (well, not that frequently).
Reading full Dr. Seuss books with Mama.
Breaking my heart open with your smell, your feel, your strength and fragility.


And to you, my boys, baby no longer unless you are asleep on my shoulder in surrender to the other world, the only time you are still, the only time I can breathe in your scent of boy and dirt and sweet and spit and love, love love. Do you know your Mama loves you? So very very much.

And in honor of your 21st and The failure of our iFlip to function, I have now gone back to earlier months and found videos and started to s l o w l y upload them to Flickr. They will be here. Get a load of those alien like early months. Oh, those boys.

Friday Finishing : Alcohol, anyone?

Oh, so glad this week is Finished. It just felt like a bit of a long hard slog. It was up and down, good and bad, dry and wet. And it is Friday and I am Finished.

One nice thing finished was being asked to participate in a new feature at one of my favorite sites, How Do You Do It? I have been reading at the site since its inception and always find great information, funny stories and a lot of support from other Mamas of Multiples. It is how I met Carrie and found other Mamas that I love to read. Give it a read if you would like to know a bit more...as if that is necessary considering how much I talk about myself here.

But the true finished project of this week involves alcohol, thank god. And it incorporates the abundance of citrus, currently a crop in season here in Southern California.


Back at our Christmas party my Mom's friend brought over a home made apertif. I fell in love. It was smoking hot sweetness, so I grabbed the 'recipe' and gave it a whirl. It is a nice way to use up the accumulating bowl of orange fruit and a nice way to git my liquor on. This is vodka infused with Satsuma peel and doused in simple syrup. This is my Friday.

Want a recipe? Here goes...
:: Grab some citrus of the orange variety. I used Satsuma mandarins which were a bit hard to separate pith from peel, but I got it done with my sharp Wustof (the only one). I also added a bit of blood orange peel from the tree in the front yard. Let peels air dry until crisp.

:: Grab some vodka, we had half a bottle of Absolut. Do not know why because I am a beer girl. I was a beer girl. Put the peels in the vodka.

:: Put the bottle away for a few weeks.

:: Take it out , strain peels and add some simple syrup.

:: Decant, pour a shot and sigh, because it is Friday.

Whew, smoking hot sweetness. And it was not morning per se when I tried a sample. It was past noon, okay?

The boys love the fresh fruit and Owen has learned the art of the peel.


And Mace just reaps the benefits.


And a good lesson in judging book by cover. Our friends supply us fruit via their abundantly producing trees. The fruit looks a little rough, as if it would not be good and juicy and ripe because the peels are mottled and variegated.


But inside is pure sunshine.

The lesson of home grown food it that it does not look like store produce, but then it does not taste that way either. Hope the weekend brings your own form of sunshine, be it via sky or bottle. Slainte.

52 Weeks and 44 Words

I have always really admired my friends that have taken on the 365 Project. It is a challenge to take a self portrait daily, and get it up to flickr. (Light shudder). But I love seeing each of them when I do catch up with my Flickr contacts.

Well, I have found a project that I know I can commit to for the year of '09. It is the 52 Weeks project. I know that I would not make it through 365, but was intrigued by getting in front of the camera.

So, here is a happy medium, not too much me, but enough to let me see how the year changes and alters me in its course. I am excited and will leave the set up in the sidebar so you can see too (if you would like). And I encourage you out there (yes, you) to join in and try it yourself. Especially we Mamas that hide behind the lens taking photo after photo of our lovelies.

Let me know if you do start, we are only three weeks into the year...will you come and play?

And if you do not read at Shutter Sisters yet and you love your camera, go. This post made me so happy as we watched an extraordinary man take the lead and ask us to walk with him as we heal our world and also ourselves. Do you have 44 words to describe what it all meant to you? Please tell and link. Here is mine...



They-have-no-idea-that-today-is-the-change-that-makes-it-possible-for-them-to-be-the-change...
They-have-no-idea-that-their-parents-both-feel-the-change-for-the-first-time...
They-just-want-to-feed-each-other-cheese...
That's-okay.

To Sleep, perchance to Dream

I started this post right after the New Year began. Since then things have calmed down (for a bit) but I thought I would post it anyway as a reminder to myself that Sleeps Swings. Oh, does it. And I included angelic pictures so you know I do love my kids. Sleep(lessness) and all.

It is pretty rare for me to write about the experiences of parenting outside of their monthly updates, but I thought I would do a post about the sleeping ‘habits’ of our almost 2 year old twins just for any one out there that might be interested. I am not big on advice (giving or receiving) being more of a experiential parent, so here is our latest experiences in sleep.

Oh, the other reason is during the few brief moments Carrie and I did get to converse during our meet up, we both mentioned that we just do not have good sleepers. Never been great with the sleep through the night thing, naps take help, etc. and I have to say it was a huge relief to talk to another parent that understood and had the same experience as we do. Because the boys have been on a schedule since day 1, but that does not negate their personal sleeping style. So…


All was going well for a bit in sleep land, I recall a few months of pretty good sleep. The boys were going down at 7, up around 6, 2 hour naps and minimal night intervention (i.e. the occasional replacement of paci). Then it started in December that we lost some of it, Mace then O, then Mace again. Verbalization started to steal some of their peaceful nights away. Mace would cry in a really frightened way. Then vacation when we slept in the same room and they ended up on the mattress with us every night due to incessant protesting from their p’n’p. Then home with Owen’s canines tearing through. We are talking kids that were up for hours in the night, unable to settle back, unable to be left, just unable, you know? This resulted in very tired and dragging parents/babies that were all feeling the strain.


Now, two things occurred to me as I write this and listen to Owen stir, talk in mid nap then settle himself back down. First, the whole notion of these babies of mine 'getting' sleep and 'keeping' it is just a notion. I know they can sleep through and put themselves back down, they have done it before. But I remind myself that there are times when they have a need, one for extra comfort or reassurance. Their world changes daily, not stable the way we adults try to maintain. They will need help and an extra cuddle and sometimes a warm parent to lay with for a bit to give them what they need. And these are things I am willing to do (in the day light hours it is easier to write that)(much harder at 1 a.m. to feel that).

So, there is now the knowledge that the sleep ‘bumps’ will smooth out. (BTW: This is the first time O has put himself back down in a few weeks, hence, the prompting for this post)(And if he would have gotten up and cried, I would have gone in and rubbed his back or held him or even laid down with him if needed, as this is for Macie too, so he can rest). It helps to write that because it reminds me that most of the tough times are temporary (haha, which means so are the ’easier’ times).

And the second point is, there are times when we realize we are doing too much and interfering with their sleep. Like when we smacked ourselves on the head this weekend after trying to soothe two really pissed off kids for an hour after they woke together at 11 or so, and our attempts were fruitless, and we left them to each other and they cried it our for awhile, and then fell asleep. So, it is a fine line, knowing when to ‘help’ and what to do. I personally feel like we cannot really do anything 'wrong' which I think frees us to try what we will and see what works. It is different for each child and it always will be. But it has also freed me from feeling like a failure as a Mama because my kids do not sleep well. It is so easy to assume it is something we have done, something we need to 'fix' but I realize for my family, it is what it is.


I think I felt the need to write this as a reminder that we all give birth to different children. We bring forth little ones that experience and process the world in unique and special ways. And they all sleep differently. I know we can ask for our children to follow a schedule and I think that is good. But I like to remember that we cannot 'take away' their individual experience and that we can honor their needs within reason. It empowers us as parents to let go of the notion that we create good/bad sleepers. I think we create the opportunity for healthy sleep, and then just take it from there.


And if you are reading and you are a parent with sleep challenges in your home and your little ones are young and you feel a bit desperate, I can say two things. It does get easier in a fashion, even if your little ones never become angelic sleepers. And, um, coffee? A Mama's best friend. Feel free to leave some comment love if you have found yourself in the same boat, so to speak. And if you had the little one that went down at 7 and woke at 7 starting at 2 weeks old...uh, maybe don't say anything. We on the other side might look up your address and bring our leftover noisemakers from New Year's to give you a taste of our night life. Just saying...

On Crafting Friends

I remember a day in my earlier twenties when I sat down to think about my life. Profound, right? But it was. I was living in NYC, lonely, far from loved ones and far from comfortable. I wanted to reach out to someone, anyone who really knew me and I realized I couldn't. I searched my thoughts for the person and could not find one. It made me look at the fabric of my past friendships and I realized it was rent with holes, gaps where whole pieces and times had been taken out. And those scraps were lying there, a bit forlorn and discarded.

I had never been easy with female friendships. The ones I had were marked by intensity or competition of a sort, combustion, and in an attempt to avoid confrontation, total cut off. I had such a bad track record with other females I eventually gave up and ended up always hanging out with the guys, wary of the girls and all the complexity that went with it. And that made me sad, looking at it that day. No, I did not get up and find a number and call any of them. That did not feel right. Instead I decided to reach into my memory and gather those scraps and fashion a quilt of sorts. One that pieced my time back together and honored the quality and lovely parts of those friends, leaving the hard behind. And I felt much better that day.

My thirties are proving to be different in my world of friendships. I cannot claim to be a better friend that I was, I still value being alone, connecting when I want, and now, more so, when I can. But in this new time, I have found women to whom I feel truly connected, and friendships have developed that I cherish and wish I had more time to nurture.

Thursday was a celebration of sorts, of the women I have found via knitting and blogging and come to know in the real world as vibrant, intelligent and interesting. I am always glad to come together with them (and meet new ones, Jillian) and discuss not only fiber things, but life, mothering, choices and opinions. I like them all so much and always look forward to the time spent together. Never would I have thought these women would be people I called friend and I am delighted to have them. We who connect via the medium of the Internet 'know' each other in many ways, I am glad I have come to out of the blogworld to be a part of this community.

And the night at Unwind...let's see.

:: Got to meet Jess and Casey of Ravelry fame (felt like I was meeting rock stars, but they are totally awesome and super easy and cool to be around)(Duh)

:: Fell a bit in love with a bag that I did bring home because I fell a bit in love with the owners of the fantastic Namaste business.

(Uh, Dawn and Kelly rock the house and listened to me talk about my kids, and laughed because I guess I am kinda' funny).

::Finally met MJ in person (yay) and loved her like all the rest.

And confirmed with Lori that I can come hang out with her in the O.C. right? (Just joshing, L).

::Enjoyed time with other knitters, all wonderful including the ladies : Julia, Shan, Lori, MJ, Mary Heather, Jillian and Kat. If you have not read their blogs you should. They are all awesome knitters among other things.

::Was the only person to commit the faux pas of knocking over a full bottle of wine (in a knitting shop, mind you) and still they said they liked me and helped me clean up (I used the Mom of Twins with little sleep excuse for that one)(of course it was me, it is always me).


But I want to say thank you, friends. I find myself crafting a new quilt of friendships, one more thoughtful and meticulous than the first. One to be cherished even as we grow and move and change. For the first time in a long time, I find myself comfortable and happy and able to enjoy that which women bring to each other. Mercurial we may be, but essential and validating and just so lovely too. So thanks.

And let's do it again soon, okay?

Finished for {Friday} : 2008 Version

I am not sure if this counts as Finished For Friday, but I going with it anyway. Let's call it Finished for 2008, shall we? I really wanted to share some of the wonderful things my baby sister Emmalien made for the Christmas season. It was awesome to open them and find all of the craft and love and true precision she put into each gift. The girl can sew, let me tell you.

So, the boys each received a book and a stuffy. The books blew my mind. Just take a look...

Every page handmade; embroidered and sewn. The details are awesome and there was a moment when I considered putting them away so the prying hands of Team Demo could not mar their beauty. I thought better of it, as isn't that what she made them for, curious little fingers that can touch and turn and read each bit.

The other day I found Owen with the Veggie book open to the grape page as he ate his morning snack of grapes. And I melted. So, they love them, Memchis...you are the very best of sisters, of aunties and of crafters I know. And rest assured, if those boys start to rough them up they are going on Mama's nightstand for some light evening reading.

And I was showered too. I now have a roomy new purse that is sturdy and beautiful. It is my new go-to bag and holds all that I need and more.

I love the buttons and the construction. Emmy, your seams make me swoon.

And I can finally claim to own a real wallet, with places to put pictures and cards and money.
I would say my sister rocks, wouldn't you? I have linked it before, but give her a visit and a shout out in the comments if you can. She blogs at EmNatural.

I had intended to post about my almost successful hand made Christmas gifts but the time whirled away during the holidays so I will just plug it in here, following along with all the crafty goodness. Most were knits, the few sewing projects I sent without getting photos. The 'almost successful' label is only there as a few projects did not pan out great, and one was made after the actual day due to a custom request..but here they are.

The fruits of labor that started waaay back in August. I loved doing it all and gifting the efforts upon my loved ones. But next year I think sewing shall take the front seat along with some canning and planting.

All in all, it was a good Finish for the Year. Now I can focus on what is hand. Which includes an exciting night of knitting and friends and cake with my fiber girls.

Oh, and you should make these.

Homemade English muffins. Not too be vulgar, but I am pretty sure Tim might take me in the kitchen if he comes home to a warm basket of this love again. TMI? Sorry.
(Yeah, so I once read trashy romance novels. What of it?)