First Sweater

I getting close to being finished knitting my first sweater. It's a disappointment. I under guesstimated on the amount of yarn I would need, twice. I started it with a light green yarn but ran out at a little below bust level. I bought some new yarn, figuring I would complete the rest of it in a darker green, saving a little of the lighter green to add some interest to the sleeves. I don't think I have enough of the darker green to finish the sleeves. I could not find any more of the same color at the yarn store. Oh well, maybe I have enough to do 3/4 sleeves.

I liked the simplicity of the pattern (though it turned out to be too complex for me-I would have had to count and keep track of where I was, what row, what stitch) but did not like the weight of the yarn, I wanted something lighter. So I changed the yarn, the pattern and tried to do it on my own. The problem is I did not understand how changing the pattern to a ribbed pattern would affect the fit and I sure didn't think that running short on yarn would mean I would have to make it shorter. And of course I don't like to measure myself, so I did the size based on guess work. And the results it it is too short, too clingy and at the same time shapeless. But it my first completed, or will be my first completed sweater, so I will love it and wear it.

I have plans for my second and third. The second will just be a simple cardigan, of Paton's Grace in lilac. This time I will check the gauge and use the yarn called for. I will even measure myself.

My real interest is in making my own designs. I have been buying tons of varying shades of purple yarn. My third sweater will be a simple cardigan, made up of color blocks. I will use a simple shape and pattern and I will plan. I will measure the gauge and figure out how to make the same pattern in the new gauge.

I can do it. I am woman.

Sun Rise

I took this picture several years ago, but it is still one of my favorites. I love pictures of sunrise, but usually I prefer to snooze my way through all sunrises.

CAT Scan

I should have a CAT scan each year, just to make sure the cancer is not coming back. I hate going, I hate thinking about it, I hate making arrangements but most of all I hate going to the doctor. So I'm most of the way there, I had the CAT scan, I still need to get blood work done and I still need to make an appointment to see the doctor.

Cancer bites duck eggs.

The good news is that the prep work for the CAT scan has changed significantly. I no longer need to drink lots of disgusting stuff, I just need to drink 40 oz. of water in 20 minutes; that's bad enough.

Enough of stupid medical stuff. I borrowed my fathers walker to use while I try to learn to roller skate using my heelies. My balance is not good enough for me to do this without a support system. I tried it with a wheeled stool, which did not even come up to my waist, so I had to lean way over to use it as a support and that is not a good way to learn to skate.

Heelies

I bought myself a pair of Heelies, tennis shoes with roller skate wheels in the heels. After all if a 10 year old kid can walk and skate around the mall in them, I should be able to skate in my neighborhood. The problem is I can't. I can't even walk in the dang things. I'll be taking mincing steps, being careful to keep my weight on my toes, because when ever I put too much weight on my heel, that foot scoots off a mile a minute while the other foot stays not so firmly planted. Half the time I end up flat on my butt.

I am going to figure out how to do this. I am going to learn how to skate standing up. I even have a plan. I am going to borrow my fathers walker and roller skate in the garage holding on to the walker, until my balance is good enough to roller skate on my street.

I am woman.

Twenty Three Weeks and Three Days To Go

In 23 weeks and three days I will retire. Yippee.

I have the candle on the mantle deal going. I started two and a half weeks ago with 26 candles, one for each week I still have to go to work. I took the first one down, the once I couldn't get to light anyway. Hubby took the second one down, next week boy A will take one down, then boy B. We take turns choosing where to go out to dinner each week, we might as well take turns pulling off the candles.

The thing is I'm adding to my hobbies. I'm not sure that is such a good thing, I will have extra time, but I sure won't have extra money. Friend-K has been a stamping fool for years. She makes gorgeous hand made holiday cards. She does such nice work she has gotten Friend N and I interested too. Now I'm spending mucho bucks on stamps, inks, papers, etc. But it will be fun. Actually the most fun will be when the three of us get together, make cards and/or scrapbook pages and sit and talk.

Lots of Candles and Lots of Body Image

Candles:

I wanted a visual indicator of the passing of time till I retire. I filled the mantle with candles, one for each week until I retire. Every Friday I take one down, light the rest and have one of the guys take a picture of me in front of the blazing mantle. It's fun. So far I have two picture, one of all the candles, and one with me holding one and all the rest glowing with the promise that each week one of them would be liberated.

I still have way too many weeks to go but this makes time pass just a tad faster.

Body Image:

I finished the body of the first sweater I ever made and once I tried it on, I just about lost interest in finishing the arms. It's not the sweater itself. I think it is my body image. Maybe a part of me thought I would look tall and svelte in a sweater I made myself. I don't I look, or at least I don't think I look ( didn't look in the mirror-I am basing this mostly on fit) thin, svelte or even cute. I look like me, an aging woman who really should lose -- well lose lots of pounds.

Body image is tough. From what I have read most of us don't like our bodies, but I really hate being fat. I hate the way I look. I hate the way it impacts my life. I hate the way I feel I can't control my eating. I could go on, but I think that is enouugh. I hate being fat, but I love me. I love my life. I have a great life. I am very happily married (most of the time). I love being a mom and seeing my guys grow up. I have a good job--its not every thing I want, but it is a good job. I like the person I am, I like my personality, I like the way I relate to people. I like who I am. Why isn't that enough? Why don't I do to myself what I do to the people around me? I look at them as a package, a grouping, a range of things from wonderful to a lot less then wonderful. I try to evaluate them as a whole. Why can't I do the same for myself.