MENU

Rosemary’s Hedwig

I realized that I had never gotten pictures of the Christmas gifts I made for everyone up – I had to keep them a secret because well… I wanted them to be a surprise.

Rosemary, my sister, this year got a crochet Hedwig.  I’ll quote my notes from my Ravelry project page directly, because I think it says my thoughts about the project well:

Heavily modified Nelson the Owl from Fresh Stitches, almost so that I wouldn’t call it the same pattern.

Different stitch count on body (made body taller and less squat), different stitch count on head, I didn’t do the color changes, sized up the wings, improvised my own feet so that there were toes, no ears, made eyes slightly different. Basically, only thing not changed was the nose. Changed the colors to reflect a snowy owl, made body white, didn’t do the color changes on the belly, embroidered little “ends of feathers” onto body after crocheting, made an improvised set of feet with bobbles turned inside out. 

I still think Hedwig looks funny without ear tufts, but since snowy owls don’t really have ear tufts, that’s fine. She reads as a snowy owl, so I guess that’s all that is needed.

Rosemary was happy with it, and all told the project probably only took me at most, probably 5 or 6 hours all told.  And that was mostly because I was being fiddly with things, and ripped back a few times to adjust.  I also was fiddly with the seaming, so that took longer.  I still think it came out crooked, but don’t tell my sister that – Rosemary has a “thing” about objects being symmetrical  and I already had to convince her the eyes really WERE the same size.

Summer Travels

Our Amtrak train coming to pick us up.

So I promised that I would tell about the rest of Michael’s birthday trip, and I’m keeping my promise – though it’s a little late.

You can refresh yourself by going here – I’ll wait for you.

After finishing up a couple of relaxing days in Ashland, NC, we proceeded to board another Amtrak train, this time taking us to Richmond, VA.  We had a layover there for a couple of hours, which wouldn’t have been of note, except Michael’s grandmother lives in Richmond.  So she met up with us and we all went out to lunch.

Richmond train station has a lovely outdoor seating area.

Michael’s grandmother, called by him Oma, is a wonderful lady, and I use the word lady in the truest sense.  She’s 92 years old, and has aged with grace and poise.  Her brain is as sharp as a whip, and she’s one of the best people I know at cutting Michael down to size when he’s getting a little bit too full of himself.  There’s such obvious love and affection between the two of them, and I always love watching them together.  One of the big moments I’m looking forward to is introducing my two grandmothers to Oma, and I think all three women have aged with grace – and I think they’ll all get along very well.

After having lunch with Oma, we proceeded to board the train again (do you sense a theme?) and head on to Cary (as Michael calls it, Containment Area for Relocated Yankees), where his parents proceeded to pick us up.

Random Mantis.  It was cool. Hard to get a picture of, though.

What commenced was a whirlwind of activity.  We visited with our friends Ray and Alison, ranged around Carborro trying wines at trendy grocery stores and investigating railroad tracks.  We tried Mexican food and played with interactive art.  Then we went home, celebrated Michael’s birthday with friends, played games, went to bed, woke up and came home.

It was a lovely trip, and a good balance of quiet and rest with family and activity.  It was also a nice way to say goodbye to summer, as it seems that just after we came home, the weather began to change.

Birthday!

Last week was my birthday and it has now launched me into my
26th year… that is, I’ve completed 25 years of my life.

My sister Rosemary called on the morning of my birthday to
wish me a happy day.  In the course of
our conversation she pointed out to me that I’ve lived a quarter of a
century.  “You know, you’re old,” she
told me from her vantage point of 17 years of age.  “And if you are really unlucky, you’ve now
lived about half of your life.”
“Thanks,” I told her. 
One of the lovely things about being the oldest is my three younger
siblings.  They just love telling me how
old I am.
Later, I went to work at the Yarn Spot, where I got wished
happy birthday again.  There, everyone in
the store was telling me how young I was, “a practical baby.”  It’s amazing the range of reactions turning
25 gets.
I guess I expected 25 to come through with more of a flair,
but I feel like 24 was actually a bigger birthday, in some ways for me.  More was starting or beginning a year ago,
now I’m in a rythmn, and 25 just represents another year turning, a
continuation of the story instead of a new book or new chapter.  This is not a bad thing, as beginning over
and over again can be exhausting.  That
re-forming and re-defining of yourself and your surroundings is tiring.
The weekend following Michael and I had a small birthday
party.  It was supposed to be bigger, but
many people had to step out at the last moment. 
Ellie made me a lovely rainbow confection again, this time a cake
instead of cupcakes.  Any more of this
and it will start becoming a tradition. 
It was delicious, and Michael and I were eating the leftovers several
days afterward.
My friends at the Yarn Spot got me some lovely yarn they
know I have been eyeing.  Bobbi acquired
a really neat puzzle from Interweave that I’m looking forward to putting
together.  My family also showered me
with cards and love.
How do you celebrate birthdays?  Do you make a big deal about it?  What was your 25th birthday like
(if you’ve had it), or what do you imagine it being like if you haven’t?  I’d like to know.
PS: Also, I called my mother on my birthday and thanked her
for birthing me.  I suggest that you do
that for your mother too.  And as my
mother said this year when I thanked her, she laughed and said “Oh, I remember that like it was
yesterday.”  I don’t think she was
talking about the joyfulness of the occasion.