Saturday, March 24, 2007

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today my mother is 80 years old. She taught me to knit when I was around eight (and then again when I was 14 when it finally stuck). One of my clearest memories of her when I was growing up is of her sitting on the couch at the end of the day, knitting. No doubt that was her first chance to sit down all day but she was not (and still is not) the type to sit with idle hands. Like so much of women's work, we always took her knitting for granted: the sweaters and hats and mittens kept coming and we assumed they always would. It wasn't until I really started knitting seriously myself that I realized what amazingly talented knitter she is. I like to think I encouraged her to see herself as very talented knitter--no one had ever told her that before and, at first, she didn't really even know what I was talking about when I would praise her work. Now, we encourage each other to keep challenging ourselves, pushing our skills, expanding our stash*. She is a wonderful knitter and a very wonderful mother!

Happy BIrthday Mom!

* as an aside: once a factory close-out type store near my mom (Building 19 1/2 for New England readers) was having a big yarn sale, mostly cone yarns but good quality wools. By chance I was going to be in the general area and, while I was probably not going to be able to see my mother, I was arranging my schedule to be able to stop by and check out the yarn sale. This, of course, was completely ridiculous because I have acheived SABLE (Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy), but, there it was--a yarn sale, we're talking enough yarn for a sweater for $2!. Anyway, I had several conversations with my mother about whether or not I would be able to make it the sale, the yarn she had purchased at the sale, etc. Finally my plans changed at the last minute and I was not going to be in the area and I won't be able to get to the sale at all. I received a phone message late in the day. It was my mother offering to go to the sale and pick up some yarn for me if I would just tell her some colors I might want--the thought that I might miss this opportunity was too much for her! My mother, the enabler.

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