Retreat

One week, together with a room of writers, ready to start a new project. I've spent the past week in Arizona, soaking in the parameters of the project and basking in the quiet of time to myself.

I think, sometimes, that the best thing the church offered me growing up was a chance to retreat. To travel, to meet new people, to shake up routines, to reflect. And I still need it. Five days away from daily chores and responsibilities, and even family. Five days to immerse myself in a project with others who share a passion for Christian education. Five days to soak in their wisdom and experience and excitement. Five days with plenty of time on my own, in my head, looking at my life & taking stock & giving thanks.

Right now I'm sitting outside on a warm spring night, most have left and I am waiting for a morning flight. I'm in that inbetween that defies words, wanting to capture a bit of the stillness, wanting to remember to pack all the ideas and excitement and thoughtful well-being so that I can put them to good use when the retreating is done and I return home.

When the Yarn Makes You Happy

You may wonder why there is cashmere in a yarn marketed to baby-wear. Or what sort of nut would spend $10 a ball to make a hand-wash-only garment for a child. But wow, knit with Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino for a few minutes and you'll understand why. And you'll start saving your pennies to make a full sweater next time, not just a vest.

All Fall Down

The hands down favorite around here right now is a library book, All Fall Down by Helen Oxenbury. Oxenbury writes books for babies--not kid books in board book form. This book has four pages, each with one line of a rhyme, each describing a motion that even stuffy mamas like me can easily act along. (Yup, stuffy. I'm having a heck of a time learning to "roar" like a proper lion in one of his other books, but that's another story.) There's no plot, just rhyme, action and drawings of colorful babies at play.

The illustrations of bright, bouncy babies just make you smile. I love the way she captures the movement of new walkers (and their squeezable diaper-padded bums!) in this picture in particular:


The highlight of the book, of course, is the last page, where the babies "all fall down." We started off tipping slightly as we read this page, and after a few dozen repetitions (four pages, remember) we were both lying flat on the floor full of belly laughs. And then, after three failed attempts, I had to hide the book up high so that we could proceed on to lunch without tears. So I think that means it's a hit.

A Wedding Gift

I've taken on a project this spring, possibly the biggest knitting project I've tackled. One afghan, for my sister and her fiance, for their summer wedding.

The pattern is Liberty, from the second Mason-Dixon book. And it's a gorgeous pattern, and it's a monster of a project. And I could have picked something easier and known my sister would have liked it just as much. But I figured, when would I ever take on a project like this again? And so I ordered up a boatload of Berocco Ultra Alpaca from the LYS, and started knitting.

The plan is one repeat a month until June, with July for the steeking (yup, it's knit in the round and then cut! I am going to cut into the most gigantic piece of knitting I've ever made!) and borders. I've been remarkably diligent about working toward that goal. This isn't the only thing I'm knitting, but it's what I turn to most regularly.

So, now you have been introduced. I'm just past the halfway point now, with plenty more to knit before we have a blanket.

Let's Nosh!

I can't decide whether to pull out paper scraps & scissors or a frying pan first. This past three weeks these books--"Let's Nosh!", "Yum, Yum, Dim Sum" and "First Book of Sushi", all by Amy Wilson Sanger--have been my favorites for snuggling and reading, and for studying on my own.


They're part of Sanger's "World Snacks" series, and along with exposing little ones (they're all board books, horray!) to many foods, and bouncing along with cute, rhymes, the illustrations are detailed, clever paper sculpture/collages of each dish. And often the foods are shown as babies see them--filling sippy cups or sitting on high chair trays.


Avocado slices preped for sushi rolls, paper wrappers around dumplings, and my favorite, lox on bagels. Clever and mouthwatering.

The collages remind me of the play food that kids in an after-school program I once worked at would make from construction paper. I remember egg rolls, where the kids would carefully cut out all of the ingredients, wrap them in brown paper and fasten with tape. In the end you only saw the outside, but they knew they had made their egg rolls the way their parents did at home.

These three are heading back to the library today. We've also checked out "Mangia! Mangia!" (Italian) and "A Little Bit of Soul Food" in the past, and while finding Amazon links I see she's got "Hola! Jalapeno," "Chaat and Sweets" as well.

Lunchtime

We eat lunch in silence, Turtle & I. Alone, I'll eat in front of the computer. With Christer, we talk as we eat. But with a pre-chatty baby, and a mama happy to sit and focus on the food for a minute, lunchtime is very quiet.

Turtle is very deliberate about his meal. He likes using a fork, sometimes to mix the food, sometimes to stab it and then pick the pieces off the prongs and into his mouth with his fingers. He takes each bite out of his bowl, and puts it back in again. Today he ate a bagel from the top down--that is he scooped off the cream cheese first, then chewed off any part of the bagel that had been touching the cream cheese, and finally resorted to eating up the remaining crust.

I eat my sandwich, too. Today, in the quiet, I watched him work on his meal while remembering to be thankful that I bothered to cut up a bit of onion, even though it was just me eating it, because it made the sandwich that much better. The quiet gives a chance to remember to be present, to notice the food, the company, the silence.

When he's almost done, Turtle glances at me with a mischievous glimmer and slowly tips his cup over. A few drips fall onto the tray before my look stops him. As I relax, he tries again, and I know he's done. In a quick motion the cup & bowl are pulled away, hands & mouth are wiped, the baby is freed from his chair and he runs back to his toys.

Begin Again

With this blank blog in front of me, I suddenly feel shy. I've blogged before, under this same title--but I've been truant lately, and it seemed time for something new. Even without keeping the discipline of blogging I find myself writing posts in my head. Composing these little messages seems to be my way of making sense of my day, pausing to notice the times I find creativity in the mundane & joy in the now. And so welcome to my space. Where I'm sure I'll share knitting, and probably baby photos, and maybe some cooking, and maybe some religion as that seems to be on my mind more and more lately.

Or maybe I'll stray off in some new direction entirely. I'm just hoping that I find ways of working this blog back into my routine. Because I do enjoy filling these blank pages.