Learning Something New...

...and there is nothing more humbling than struggling through learning something new. It is a good reminder to have patience myself with others! This little effort may take way too much coordination and thinking all at once for these old-ish brain cells to adapt to...I was exhausted by the time the lesson was over, and it was only an hour! I would get into the flow of spinning, and think "oh yeah, I am doing it now...." only to completely lose it, and struggle for the next 15 minutes, totally lost.
I am taking the class during my lunch hour with a co-worker, who is about the same age as Youngest Daughter, over the next three weeks. I was very good student, and practiced last night at home, then followed up with some knitting. I felt it important to go to end the day with a sense of accomplishment rather than a sense of frustration!
So WIP photos...first the Maple Seed Hat:

And the Alison's Scarf:Improving photography and photo editing skills are on the list of goals for the year. Note I said goals, not resolutions. Let's see, that makes the blog, acceptance of self (body-wise), photography and editing, spinning...so far a good list. I am pleased with the way the blog is going so far. I am learning a lot, and that, after all, is what it is suppose to be all about.
One more photo...I have two orchids, and this is the only time I have ever had one rebloom. What a gift!

Self Image

During the year of the Dee-vorce, I lost weight. I was pleased with this. I have always been thin. I have always been very, very thin, as a child, and after having 3 children. Being small and thin has been a part of my identity. When I did put on a few pounds (and I mean only a few), this caused consternation. I can see now this frayed the edges of my identity. Then some stress would enter my life and pounds would fall away, and I would be back to my usual. Ahhh….all was right with the world.

So now, six years after I received those final dee-vorce papers in the mail (in the mail!), and my lowest weight since high school, I now weigh more than I did when I was pregnant. And yet, AND YET! I am eating much healthier, nutrition and calorie-wise, than I have in my entire life (thanks to the Wonderful Guy), and I exercise diligently and properly. What gives? It began when I got happy (no, really!), I started gaining some poundage, but that was okay…because, after all, I was way too thin….at least that is what I said, but down deep, I liked wearing those size 2 jeans. But size 4 was okay, too, I guessed. But I kept gaining, and Middle Daughter’s wedding was coming up, and the X was going to be there with the new, younger version he had married very shortly after that fateful mail day. What I was concerned about was nothing to be concerned about. Really. It was in my mind, comparing myself to others expectations, to my own ideas about what I should be, about what I had always been. I was concerned about 117lbs.

But it continued, and I was outgrowing clothes, and I kept approaching limits, then bypassing them. Youngest Daughter’s wedding was approaching. I took a new approach. With the Wonderful Guy, I had been eating and cooking healthier, but I never had to count calories. My research told me it was important to be informed about exactly what one’s caloric intake was. The internet has wonderful tools for this information, and I start using some of them, along with a journal. I kept track of everything for several months, even using one website to enter my own recipes so I could see exactly what calorie count my tuna noodle casserole (for example) was carrying. I logged intake faithfully, and kept to about 1600-1900 calories/day. This was coupled with maintaining exercise my exercise 5-6 days/week. I quit gaining, and even dropped a couple of pounds the first few weeks. I believed I was going to be able to be down to 120lbs by the wedding.

Uhhhh...wrong answer. Nothing else happened. Wedding came and went, and I wore a ….size 6! Shock!! Horror!!!! I look at the photos and I think I have such a roll around my middle. Really. I think that. My sisters have no sympathy for me, and if by chance anyone is reading this, you may not either. That’s ok. That’s not my point to all this.For my next birthday, Wonderful Guy gave me a new bicycle, and I started riding to work a few times a week. It is approximately a 16.5 miles round trip, and that first summer, I rode an estimated 900 miles. Those handy dandy little internet tools I talked about previously told me I was exercising very vigorously, burning up all sorts of calories, and not taking in outrageous amounts of calories. I should have been dropping poundage like crazy, if the math was right. Well, I didn’t. Nothing budged…not weight, not pants size, not nothing! Now I was enjoying myself and feeling good, and found the morning ride exhilarating, and evening ride bearable, but geez! Somebody, throw me a bone here!

Where am I going with this? It's that I think I need to be thrown a bone. I weigh 130-135lbs on any given day. I have kept track of my diet and eating patterns to know that I am eating healthy and nutritious foods most of the time in proper amounts. I exercise pretty darn well, especially for a middle-aged woman. There is absolutely nothing unhealthy in any of that. And I am in the middle of all the charts for weight and BMI. I am normal, finally average. Why is it so hard for me to accept me this way, at this stage of my life?

Because it’s hard not to be caught up in what I used to be, thinking something is wrong if I am not looking the same way, the same size I was way back when. There is a roll over my jeans when I sit that didn’t use to be there, and I don’t see me as being skinny. I have always been prideful of that, and if I am not skinny anymore, maybe I have lost a part of my identity. That is not sound thinking.

I am going to work very hard this year to continue to eat well, exercise regularly, and accept my body just as it is. This is something I have struggled with for a couple of years, and it is really time to lay this one down. I‘ve become educated to know what’s healthy eating and what’s not, what is good to do and what’s not, and I am free to make those choices. I want to be okay with my body because it is really is OKAY.

My Hometown

My mother's family homesteaded just a few miles southeast of Greensburg, Kansas at the turn of the last century. I was born in the local hospital, and spent my grade school years there. All my family, from my grandfather's generation through my older siblings, graduated from Greensburg High School. I learned to ride a bike around the Big Well Park. I won a Grand Champion ribbon for a sewing project in 4-H at the County Fair one year. Momma taught knitting classes in the back room of the Ben Franklin 'Five&Dime' on Main Street. (That's where I learned to knit.)

On May 4, 2007, a EF-5 tornado all but destroyed this town where I was born and raised.

Just the night before, my sibs and I had been discussing the possibilities of meeting in Greensburg to inter my mother's ashes around Memorial Day. She passed away 2 years before, and her memorial service took place elsewhere. We siblings are a spread out crew, and hadn't managed a time to get back to our hometown to bury Momma's ashes with Daddy. Now it looked promising with certain travel plans and arrangements that we could all be there over Memorial Day.

Friday night, while watching TV, I got a phone call from my brother saying it looked like Greensburg was getting hit by a tornado. Being raised in southwestern Kansas, my experiences with tornadoes were of those skinny little funnels that dip and touch and raise and hit and miss. As the events were unfolding real-time, it was very difficult that night to get any definite news, but as the story developed, it appeared this tornado didn't miss much. Almost two miles wide, it covered pretty much the entire town.

When I woke Saturday morning, I grabbed a cup of coffee, and turned on the national news. I was stunned. As the weekend developed, Dearest Sister and I spent time on the phone, each on our own computer, looking at the aerial photographs, trying to identify landmarks. It seemed in each photo the house where we grew up was just outside the shot. (We found out later the back part of the house was damaged, with the roof, and later had to be demolished.)

We were able to take care of Momma over Memorial Day weekend,burying her ashes 48 years to the day after my father died. It was going to be just Mom's kids, a couple of nieces and nephew, and some grandkids at the cemetary, but word had gotten out. Others started showing up, and kept coming. When it was time for us to say our good-byes, there were twenty or so other people there, some who had lost a good deal, who had a lot of unanswered questions about what they were going to do. Nevertheless, they came to say good-bye to this woman who had been a part of their community years before.

I read an article today that the residents of Greensburg have been named Distinguished Kansans of the Year. Some left after the tornado, but many stayed, and are determined to rebuild, whatever it takes, and to do it up right. And that is right, and good, and I am so proud.

But the town I grew up in is only in my memories.

Needles of Iron....

I read yesterday about site counters, and have been thinking about the implications of such regarding my philosophy of blogging. Do I care how many might read it? When being honest with myself, I know when I see how many times my Ravelry projects get viewed, I get a charge out of it. And undoubtably, the Ravelry linkage opens the blog up to others. While I might not mention it to those who know me, certainly some can see there that I have one, unless I remove the address, which I could. What a conundrum!

Today, on the Needles of Iron…as usual, a Four-Corners Dishcloth (1870 Pearl), a Maple Seed Hat (Angela Hahn), and Alison’s Scarf (Annie Modesitt). My history with dishclothes will be for another post. I have developed a process to determining what my current WIPs are at any given time, and this has kept me challenged, yet also let me have some mindless knitting. I keep about 3 projects going, one being the ubiquitous dishcloth, one a project using a little bit more concentration and technique, and the last requiring new technique and skill levels. When some knitting time rolls around, I can pick up whatever is called for. The hat is using leftover yarn from my Cinnabar Scarf (another Angela Hahn), and I hope there is enough. I am using some Paton's Decor for the scarf, sturdy enough for some learning of new technique with the requisite frogging. The scarf's I-cord cast-on is very interesting, and I think I like it alot.

I have knitted a lot this past year, and really it has only been since June when the group at work started knitting the squares for the Greensburg project (again, another post). FO’s are listed on Ravelry and I count 25 projects, plus dishcloths. For half a year! I have honed some old skills, and picked up new ones, too. I have come to look at knitting as one of my Momma’s legacies. I value the lessons from my mother, teaching me the basics as a young girl. As I have taught others, I’ve come to appreciate her patience. Well, at least now I do!

Other crafty accomplishments this past year: I completed the quilt for the grandbebe girl, the eldest daughter’s lifetime scrapbook, and the dearest sister’s 50th birthday scrapbook.

Back to knitting….

Star Trek Ornaments

I put up all the holiday décor yesterday, and today the regular routine of winter living starts once again. The kids have gone home, the house is quiet and empty (equally pleasant and saddening), and with the tree down, the front room seems absolutely spacious. It was a very rewarding holiday season, though, and I have started off the New Year in fine style. I exercised, started the blog, and put the house in order, and went to a meeting. v.g.

Part of my holiday décor includes Star Trek ornaments. They plug into the string of lights, lighting up themselves, and some of them talk when the lights are initially plugged in. I have 9 or 10, all ships, from all the series. They have been gifts from a special friend who shares a similar like, from the X, and even from my mother (who is now gone, and I seriously laugh to think of my mom in Hallmark picking out a Klingon Bird of Prey!). The year of the dee-vorce, when celebrating the holidays was something I was going to skip, the oldest daughter literally forced me to purchase a fake tree from a local craft store, already lighted. When getting out the Christmas cards, I saw the Star Trek ornaments. They were in an easily identifiable box, and easily reached. Having gone as far as to get a tree, I decided a few ornaments were not out of line, seeing as how those were the ones I found. We are still enjoying that memory of a particularly bleak time. I love those ornaments on so many different levels.