DAY 2 in which I reveal what a bad seed I am

My mother has requested a new sweater vest.  She is specific - she knows what she likes and her most important choice is that of the fiber, it must be cotton.  (sigh)  I've been longing to try Blue Moon fiber - but alas, they do not offer a cotton.  Would it be wrong to try to pull the wool bamboo over her 81 year old eyes?  Should I just go ahead and order some of their delicious yarns and set to knittin'????  In my heart I KNOW that the fiber will be indescribably soft and comforting.  But I would feel ugly and unlovable in deceiving me old mom.  I'm a bad seed.  She and I are engaged in a battle these days.  It goes like this -


"Mom, you don't HAVE to go to the Nursing Home every other day.  If you don't feel well and the place further depresses you, just stay home.  He doesn't know you're there half the time, anyway."  She protests this and whines a bit and I begin to pale and sweat.  "Mom, he calls out for you because he remembers your name.  When he sees you, he doesn't recognize you."  She offers up her excuses.  I'm experiencing multiple hot flashes.  "Mom.  Mom.  Do you want me to remind you what a terrible husband and father he was?  You're doing more than anyone else ever would.  Mom, what do you think about Bob?"


You see, Bob is the husband of Lillian, another patient at the Nursing Home.  Bob comes every day and he feeds his wife and takes her out to the garden and when he strokes her hand and speaks so lovingly to her, I have to turn away, it seems wrong to eavesdrop on this tenderness.   Lillian does not respond to her husband any longer.  She is frozen into place now, without speech or recognition.  The other day I walked into the Nursing Home to find Bob and my mother sitting together in the sun room.  There was conversation and a little laughter.  I was astonished and thrilled.  Bob!  He is just what the doctor ordered!  Me old mom needs a friend.  Now how do I convince her that there is nothing wrong in accepting the gift of friendship - the gift of survival - the outlasting of the plaque of Alzheimer's?  I am not suggesting that they run off to Monte Carlo (although, that would be absolutely fine by me) I'm talking a cup of coffee at Starbucks, for Chrissake.  My mother picks at some invisible lint on the front of her smart linen shirt.  She reminds me that I am her lifeline.  The image of coffee and Bob is shrinking and I feel a seizure coming on.


Oh - and here's some green for you -

The children have returned from their extended weekend to the Cape.  I am certain that Bubbha will be very happy  to return to his routine.  I know that I am.  Still, I'll miss seeing his funny old face first thing in the morning -

Believe it or not, there HAS been some knitting!  While I was dog-sitting I worked on face cloths for Hilary.  I found a few skeins of an old Rowan organic cotton - they must have been stashed at least 10 years ago!  They were lounging in my hope chest which is lined in cedar, so the skeins smelled lovely.  I like this pattern very much because it is easily memorized and has some real structure, which is key for a face cloth.  Some knitters might poo-pooh the notion of knitting face or wash cloths, but I find these little rectangles happy distractions from my intricate lace projects.  Plus, I like to incorporate knitting into my ordinary world.  It makes me happy to reach for something that I need, that I've made for myself.  Better still - to be able to give away as gifts.

This is called 'Double Bump Scarf or Dishcloth Pattern', designed by Missy Angus.  She warns that it is addictive, and I can echo the sentiment.  I like that it is reversible and can imagine it in the softest gray fiber, wrapped several times around one's neck.  (Blue Moon Fiber Arts?????!!!!)