Third year, exponentially

Today was the Third Annual Knitting in the Pasture With Sheep event, and the weather for it was glorious.  It's just a bunch of people in a pasture with a flock of sheep for a couple of hours, the humans talking and knitting (or crocheting) and the sheep running through periodically.  Last year they were calmer and checked out what we were working on, but last year was cold and rainy and we reached only 47 persons, which was three times what we'd had the first year.

The official picture in 2020, just before it poured rain and the humans left.

This year, the final count was 230 humans.  That's around six persons to each sheep, so no wonder they were a bit freaked out and preferred to hide in the corners of the field.

My friend took this photo - you can just barely see me near the solar panels.
Look for somebody in black with this shirt.  There were so many of us that other than
the official group photo, many of us took video to document all the humans.

I took a hat on a circular needle in a very appropriate project bag (they call it a 'yarn pouch'):

The pattern is Barleylight by Tin Can Knits.  I'd started it, realized that it was coming out too big, so instead of my morning walk I quickly frogged and cast on, and by the end of the event the ribbing was done.  Yarn is some random handdyed from my stash that was wound and has no tag.

I had fun.

Mid-Month Resolutions Update

I managed to get a hand-sprain at the beginning of the month, so fiber work was curtained, and thus no progress to speak of on UFOs or my KnitTalk Q3 Make-Along project.  As you can see, I am doing better, and I've been focusing on items for the group that collects for orphans in Kazakhstan.  I want to get the box filled and shipped and be done - then I see somebody needs mittens, or whatever, and I happen to have yarn that I want to use up, and so........

I have been reading, though.  The current book is My Dear Hamilton which is thick in the number of pages but flimsy in physical construction.  It's not an intellectually heavy read, but interesting in the character studies it presents.  I'm about a third of the way through.

End of Summer.

An acquaintance posted this bit from a New York Times newsletter this morning, which she said "really says it all":

Greetings from the middle of a strange holiday weekend. It was meant to be, for some of us, the end not just of unofficial summer but of many of the protocols meant to keep us safe from the coronavirus — a time to return to commuting, perhaps to an office, to the rhythms of what passed for normal life back in 2019. Until it wasn’t. We’re still masking, still anxious about breakthroughs, still unsure what’s going to happen with the children’s schooling, still worried about the future, still unsettled in the present.

Labor Day Weekend is a reset, generally. This year, the button will not click.

Today is the first Sunday of the month, and last month was the first time since March 2020 that there was a brunch at my friend William's house.  He called on Wednesday evening to say that with the numbers rising again, he decided to cancel this month, and we'll see what happens next month.  My guess is that with the colder weather coming, he won't attempt a brunch again until spring.

I'd planned to do an apple upside-down honey cake, because tomorrow begins Rosh Hashonnah, which is the start of the Jewish new year.  Many of you may remember that I began the mini-resolutions because it can be hard to promise something for a year, or the rest of your life, but you can do it for a month.  Recently mine have mostly been a ticklist of whether I have accomplished any of the ones I originally proposed, or made any headway.  Headway = yes; accomplishment = no.

Feels like a Year.

It's been a difficult few weeks.

I don't usually post about personal things, but in the Spring of 2019 I became legally responsible for my uncle, my father's baby brother, when he fell ill during a trip to the mainland and was diagnosed with both Parkinson's and dementia.  We were lucky he was here, where we could move him into a care facility, and with the help of many people (because Hawai'i, and they do such things) we were able to sell his condo, donate his car and furniture, and get his personal items to the facility for his use.  I ended up being there for a very fast four days to sign things and take care of final matters such as collecting items from his safety deposit box and ensuring all his accounts were closed.

This past July 4th weekend, my uncle took a turn, as they say.  We scrambled to get aides to assist with his care while finding a more supportive facility - and this while COVID-19 numbers soared and places went into lockdown.  Bless my parents, who live near my uncle's facility and did much of the legwork visiting locations and organizing movers, while I authorized and conferred and worried.  My uncle seemed to settle in well to his new home - and then began to fall.

With the assistance of staff at the new care home we've figured out that my uncle may be deciding he needs to go to bed, and instead of calling for assistance simply goes himself.  However, with his physical debility he cannot do it unassisted, and so falls.  They are working out a regime and we may have to move him to the memory care wing much sooner than expected.

And I am doing all of this long-distance, as the family is adamant that I shouldn't travel down there given the COVID-19 numbers.  Mostly the facilities wouldn't let me in, and my parents (who are mostly retired at this point) are happy to help, but it's difficult for me given my sense of responsibility.  So I fret.

I'm writing all this to offer kudos and thanks to a friend for his book, Her Final Year, co-written with another care-giver, where they summarize their families' journeys and decisions.  It's free to download on the first of the month (as are all his books) but worth buying if you need it.

In addition, I haven't seen my grandmother since February 2020 and she is clearly fading, and it breaks my heart.  Tonight a friend is doing one of his bimonthly online concerts, and months ago I started to call my grandmother on those evenings so we can listen to the concert together.  I turn up the speakers and arrange the phone and she enjoys it.  When I type a message that we're listening, he gives her a shoutout and I tease them both about her being a groupie.

Mini-Resolution Report

I managed to sprain my right hand a week or so ago, and that slowed my ability to do needlework.  Luckily I'd finished my niece's bolero, although I forgot to take a photo of the finished item as I was rushing to get to the Post Office.  This is the last one I have, with a closeup:

Not much progress otherwise on UFOs, especially given the difficulty to hold very fine needles.  I did a few rows on the Omega Shawl while "on vacation" via a virtual trip to Antarctica, but I'm in the lace border and that requires too much concentration while attending lectures and landings.  The virtual trip was a lot of fun, I learned quite a lot, and someday I would like to go there for real.  In the After Times.

I'm not going to add anything other than progress on my KnitTalk Q3 Make-Along project, which I started and was able to work on a bit during the virtual trip:

The theme is five, either ounces of yarn or colours.  This shawl should take about five ounces total of Patons Lace in Calypso Coral and Patons Lace Sequin in Smoky Quartz.  It's further along than in the photo but also set aside while my hand heals.