How Good it is to See.

After a week of rain, yesterday was sunny and today ditto.  So I was able to get out and do some proper walks.

A hungry bunny.  I don't walk for speed or distance,
necessarily, but try to pay attention around me.

Clear blue sky - verdant vegetation.

This tree fell over a long time ago, and I
enjoy seeing how new life springs from it.

There are some creeks and streams that the path
crosses, and I love to watch and listen to them a
bit when the water is like this.  Too bad I
haven't figured out how to upload a video.

One thing that I love about walking is just looking around and seeing things.  The bunny might have been overlooked by somebody who was just walking.  I also saw birds, earthworms, a fuzzy caterpillar, a feather gently float onto the grass - so many things.  And I revel in being able to see in part because my vision has been so terrible for most of my life.  As my mother often said, when two high myopes (extremely nearsighted people) have children, the effect is multiplied.  At least in our family it is.  Then add in astigmatism and cataracts, which show up very early for us, and vision is a challenge.  Hurrah for modern medicine and surgery - when my cataracts (first seen in my early 20's) were "ripe" for surgery a decade or so ago, it was a straightforward procedure.  What I did not realize beforehand is that when they put in the artificial lenses, they can correct your vision - or some of it.

At the time, my vision was around 14.5-15 diopters off.  I don't know how to explain that to a normally sighted person.  I'd first tested as legally blind in the second or third grade; my mother told the school nurse to have me retest with my glasses in place.  Most people talk about being "20/50" or "20/200", meaning that what you see at 20 feet, a normally sighted person can see at 50 or 200 feet.  There is no way to translate over about nine diopters into that sort of metric.  I literally could not see clearly anything beyond the end of my nose.

So they only corrected 12 diopters, which is the maximum possible.  I am now to somewhere between 2.25-3 diopters in each eye.  This means I have vision I cannot remember having.  I can move about my home without glasses, and actually see things.  There is a crispness to the world again.  And I still have the wonder and amazement at how much I can see, even well more than a decade after my surgeries.  It's a gift, it's a blessing, and I am forever thankful.

😎👀😎👀😎👀😎👀😎👀😎👀😎👀😎👀😎

Since it is very warm out, once I got home I mostly stayed inside.  I finished four scarves - all the knitting or crocheting was done, but ends needed to be run in and washing tags added.  These go to Warm Up, America!

The pink-and-purple one is a made-up design in seed stitch.  The turquoise one adapted a cowl pattern by not sewing the ends together, and it is reversible because the middle is K1P1 ribbing.  The four at the bottom are all from Caron Latte Cakes, and since only one of the rolls had a label, I copied it for the other three.  I've found it's very simple to take the washing instructions from the yarn band or tag or whatever, and attach that to the item, if there is enough information.  The Cascade Yarns "Swaddle" I used for the pink-and-purple had just two images, which isn't enough for those who don't know how to decipher them, so I printed a tag of some generic instructions (in three languages) that I've made and used in the past and attached that to the scarf.

I also returned to something started and stalled several years ago.  I decided to make a blanket in pinks and purples in honor of a fellow fiberist who succumbed to cancer.  These were her favourite colours.  So I had a bunch of yarns that I'd collected and put together with that in mind:

I had a few ideas but never got more than a bit done.  So I pulled out the yarns and figured I would just doodle and see where I got.  In the photo below, the pink square was all I'd had done, so I added another of the Bernat Stripes, then started an overall border with the Sweet Roll.  The photo shows it pulled apart when I decided to frog part of the border and add a bit more of the pink at the other end, on top of the inner border, to make the proportions longer:

I am now past the addition and have finished the rest of the Sweet Roll, and am working side panels of the Dark Horse yarn.  At the moment it is a very scrunched lump on a long circular, so not much to look at or figure out how it looks.  Current plan is to do the sides evenly, then corners of the Gedifra, then another border bit, then longways around with the Bernat Stripes, and then we'll see.

I also made some soaps:

I do just simple melt-and-pour, and was intrigued by a kit, which was on sale.  You put pinches of dried flower petals in the mould, add some clear soap, and then scented white soap for the majority.  A friend in Texas goes to a ladies' retreat with her mother each summer, and usually makes facecloths for their collective gift bags.  (Everybody makes or brings something to contribute.)  A few years ago I made a bunch of soaps for her to include with the facecloths, and they were popular.  So I've continued, even shipping a box when I wasn't ready to travel as the pandemic unwound, but they were holding a limited-attendance version.  I thought these would be a very pretty option.  I probably won't have enough of the scent to make soaps for everybody to have this type, or maybe I'll switch to a different scent.  I'm not much for floral scents but I think I have some carnation in stock.

Time for me to do homework.  I am taking a class called "The Emergence of Science Fiction" and we're finishing Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein".  One thing I didn't mention above about the surgeries is that when you get your cataracts removed, they can adjust for nearsighted or farsighted vision.  My ophthalmologist was very surprised when I said I wanted to be nearsighted because, he told me, almost every other patient wanted to be farsighted so they could see for driving and outside things.  No, I explained, I love to read, and I really wanted to be able to read without having to wear glasses or hold the book on the end of my nose.  What I didn't tell him was that part of the reason is that too often I would fall asleep reading and my glasses dented the side of my nose!

I love being able to read without glasses, and being able to hold the book far enough away that I can see the whole page, and not have to keep moving the book - or my nose!

My Father and His Brother

Today is Father's Day, so I spent a chunk of it at my parents' house helping my father in the garden, and pulling out books for him to sort (they have a donation appointment at the local Friends of Library shop on Tuesday), and of course making the weekly soufflé:

Somehow, one of the last dollops of the mix make a heart on top of the cooked soufflé.  At Dad's request it is accompanied by fresh green beans almandine, and I surprised my parents with a half-dozen banana muffins.

Yesterday we drove out to the coast to scatter my uncle's ashes.  I'd found a boat and crew that do it (unlike the Neptune Society, which did my grandmother last month, they are not full-service, so we carried the ashes) with the family aboard, which seemed important to us.  We'd originally planned to do this last autumn, but the chosen day was overcast and damp and really chilly, so we agreed to postpone it to this spring or summer.

The weather was glorious, wonderful for being on the water.  The boat was very comfortable.  We had a bonus of seeing a pod of dolphins on our way to the watery cemetery, which was lovely.  They have a basket that they and the family line with banana leaves, then put in some flowers and petals, add the ashes, and more flowers and petals to fill the basket.  When we reached the zone they let you have a few minutes for final prayers, and when ready the Mate scatters the basket's contents.  The boat circles for a while as you watch the flowers and ashes disperse, and when ready heads back to shore.  The photo at the top is one I took as we circled the scatter area.

They have beverages and some snacks aboard, but we stopped at the Stoked Restaurant, where the Stargazer docks to pick up the families (with parking rights - very kind of them!), and it's a very local place, with definitely commendable food.  If you're in that part of North Carolina, give them a try.

So, it's been an emotional weekend, but we were glad we could give Uncle Ben his final resting place.  Because he was part of NOAA's hurricane-watching crew for most of his career, we thought this would be an appropriate part of the world in which to scatter his ashes.

Doing it in Public

Today is World Wide Knit (and Crochet) in Public Day.

I didn't look into any official events, because it's also the ISBA Annual Meeting and I decided to attend in person.  I did, of course, have knitting and did it in public, because it is What I Do.

I got in late at night and was told my room had a city view.  Well, yes and no.  I think they meant it was not overlooking the river, although I certainly could see it.

The last two are roughly the same view, night and morning.

The meetings went well and instead of being just a regular member of the councils to which I was appointed, I am Secretary and Continuing Education Coordinator for one, and Continuing Education Coordinator plus co-chair of a subcommittee for another.  I have to justify the expense to be there!

Since it is WWKIP Day, a report on the three projects mostly in my queue:

This is the Simple Crescent Shawl out of Berroco Topaz
at the one-ball-finished point, about 34 of 45 repeats.
I pulled out a bit of ball #2 to start it at the same colour, and
not have an abrupt change; I'll work the pulled yarn in later.

A scarf with cabled edges, based upon a cowl pattern, in
a discontinued yarn that is working up nicely on US#10.5
needle.  I didn't like it on US#11.  This came to Chicago with me.

The Cabled Edges Scarf was out of reach when I 
needed class knitting this morning, so I decided to
start something new.  I am making up a pattern and
working longways here, and wanted the long edges
to match more closely, so decided to try a crocheted
cast-on - my first attempt that I can remember.

The scarf progresses in seed stitch.  I am
working on US#10 needle and it feels a bit
tight but not stiff, so I am staying on this one.

I still have the mitered squares scarf to work on and finish, and the matching hat, and the two bears I am test-knitting and -crocheting for the Center for Knit and Crochet.  These are based upon an artifact in their collection, and I already found and reported a major omission in both patterns.

Now it can be told.

One month ago, on May 4, 2023, my grandmother had her 107th birthday.  For many, many years she would only admit to being 35 years old, and if you asked why she would tell you one of these reasons:

• The year she was 35 was a good one, and she saw no reason to change it.
• Jack Benny only admitted to being 39 years old, and he is much older than she.
• Sometimes an amalgam of both.

My grandmother was quite irate at my brother one Thanksgiving when we visited, and since his birthday was around then we celebrated, and one of her neighbors noticed.  The lady asked who was the honoree, and when my brother admitted it was he, she asked how old he was.  Proudly my brother said he had just turned forty.  After we returned to my grandmother's apartment she scolded my brother, asking how people could believe she is just 35 when her grandchildren are older than she!

The only time we could get her to admit to being older was if there was a senior discount - and not always.

It proved a complication when my grandmother was in hospital a number of years ago, and the doctors called my mother telling her they needed to invoke the Healthcare Power of Attorney she held, to give my grandmother some treatment.  My mother was surprised, as she'd spoken to her mother a short time before and things didn't seem that much amiss.  The doctor explained that he'd gone in to assess and speak with my grandmother, who was having gallbladder trouble, and my grandmother's answers suggested that she was not mentally capable of making decisions on her own behalf.  My mother asked what the questions and answers had been.

One, of course, was age.  My mother asked whether the doctor had asked the date of my grandmother's birth or the actual number of years.  Both, he replied.  My mother asked if my grandmother had properly named the year which would make her 35 years old that day, and the doctor admitted that she had.  Well, pointed out my mother, doesn't that show she still a bit sharp?

The doctor said that my grandmother had also not known who the President was.  My mother, who knows her mother very well, asked if she had been unable to name him or had just said "that man".  The latter, the doctor admitted.  Given that the President of the time was a Democrat, my mother suggested he ask some other questions, as my grandmother was not likely to name anybody other than a Republican.

Until shortly before her 107th birthday, that was my grandmother.  She was fighting pneumonia in April, which is why I thought of sending her birthday blanket early as a get-well gift.  The truth is that I was not certain she would still be alive for her birthday, or not capable of recognizing a gift.  But she rallied, and was alive, and my mother and I flew down to visit.

What my mother had not told either me or my brother is that my grandmother had suffered an apparent stroke earlier that week, and after discussions with her medical providers and the aides attending, my mother had called in the local hospice team.  My grandmother had been adamant that she did not want to die in hospital, so as long as it could be done, my mother determined that she would be cared for at home.

This happened on the Monday, and since my brother and I usually call on the weekend, and then I would call midweek, we didn't know.  (When I called on Wednesday evening my grandmother wasn't able to say much, and I thought it was just because I called in the evening - she'd been sundowning for a while.)  And my mother, being busy with everything, hadn't told us until she and I were on the way to the airport.  I texted my brother to ask if he knew, and he hadn't.  So now we did.

I was very glad to be able to see my grandmother one last time, and for her to be able to recognize and talk with us, although she was very weak and not always cognizant.  We visited for what time she could handle, but clearly there wasn't much time left.

During my trip to Texas, knowing she was failing, I had my family promise that if my grandmother died they would tell me, and I promised not to leave the meetings early but to change my return flight and meet people in Florida.  My grandmother hung on, and I got home, quickly doing laundry and turning my suitcase in anticipation of another trip.

Thursday evening, we got the call.

On Friday my mother and I flew down, and in a concentrated whirlwind of activity, fueled by hamburgers and ice cream and assisted by some of the aides, in four days we cleaned out my grandmother's apartment.  Furniture was donated, special items packed to bring home, and the final arrangements made.  I'd had some photos taken during the birthday trip, because I knew they would be the final ones.  Of course we found others in a couple of photo albums, most recording parties and travel my grandmother had done with my step-grandfather, and a few older ones of family.  My grandmother, unfortunately, was not a sentimentalist and tended to weed out photos she deemed unimportant - on visits we would salvage what we could.

So it has been a month since my grandmother turned 107.  I won't post a photo from that final trip, but one from earlier, when my mother and I visited for her birthday and my grandmother was only 99:

Since my grandmother was born just before Mother's Day, we made a point to visit for her birthday (or as close as jobs allowed) instead, because, she noted, people always remembered Mother's Day for cards and gifts and visiting, but would forget other times.  Visiting for her birthday showed we remembered her all the time.  Even after she turned 100 we were not permitted to acknowledge her age during our visits, even though the community where she lived included the fact in their newsletter.  My grandmother said she hoped most of the people there were frail of memory and wouldn't remember that her age now had three digits.

I've already felt the pang, not being able to call to tell her about the Memorial Day service I attended last weekend.  Veterans and servicemembers were very important to my grandmother, and she took all the recognitions - Armed Forces Day, Memorial Day, and Veterans Day - very seriously.  We found photos of my older niece's graduation among the ones my grandmother kept, and I realized we wouldn't be sending her any of my younger niece's graduation, which happened the weekend my mother and I were cleaning out the apartment (we watched a livestream).

The birthday blanket came home with me, and I've washed and folded it and tucked it into a special shelf in the linen closet, with a bluebonnets blanket a friend designed, that my grandmother loved and often had wrapped around her legs.  They are going to stay there for a long time.

I love and miss her, very very much.

"Friends, Romans, Countrymen....."

 I forgot to mention last week that I played a couple small roles (a Roman/countryman, and a slave) in the Plague Mask Players' online performance of "Julius Caesar".  If you haven't read the play, the titular character is murdered fairly early on (although reappearing later as a ghost) and most of the play focuses on others.

I would have been one of the murderers in a staged production, but in this one they limited the onscreen group to those who actually had lines.  My slave role does murder somebody later, but at his request - suicide by slave, if you will.  There were problems with the recording so some bits are missing, but you can see some great performances by other actors.

I also finished the ninth (if you believe GoodReads) or eleventh (my records, since GR doesn't have listings for two of them) book I've read this year.  It is Pauline Kael's Going Steady, reviews of movies from 1968-69, and it was interesting to me to see her review of ones I've seen.  It also interested me to read about so many movies of which I've never heard, and if I believe her view of them, it's not a surprise.