…the promise of things hoped for.

Twenty-seven years ago, I made a very difficult decision – one that forever changed my life in a million different ways. As it often is with difficult decisions, it was ultimately the right decision to make, and here is the beautiful part of this decision – it was not only the right decision for me, it was the right decision for one very small child and one family for whom this child was born.

Today, the thing that I hoped for, longed for, dreamed about but never, ever expected to see come to fruition on this side of eternity happened.

But, the day was not just spent in anticipation of this pending visit, you see I had lovely distraction this morning. I took a drive south to Kalamazoo to have breakfast and while I was there, I was even fortunate enough to get the 25 cent tour of that fine city, one that I thought should have cost much, much more. It seems that even in this economy if one looks very carefully that which is practically perfect is right there waiting for you! Yes, my visit south seemed to be just what the Dr. ordered for a day such as this.

But, I digress…if I told you that I remembered clearly the last day I saw this child, you might not believe me – but remember I do in vivid detail – Technicolor, for those of you beyond a certain age!

Yet, I am sitting here right now and there are no words to express exactly what I felt when I saw her in person standing in front of me. Add to that mix the incredible woman whose job it was to raise her, change her diapers, kiss her scrapes, and sit up with her when she was sick all night, and put up with her teenage moodiness – she had the hard job. Yes, it was quite miraculous to be in a room with women as gracious and giving as my daughter’s mother and Godmother are. That they are here to share her with me humbles me to my innermost being.

To see my children embrace their sister, to see eerie similarities in their faces and mannerisms was like nothing I ever imagined, and it filled me with indescribable joy.

Moreover, tomorrow is a brand new day and I have faith that it will be so much more than what I hope for.

T-minus 36 hours and counting…

Some twenty-seven odd years ago, my life changed drastically and this weekend the Object of that Change is arriving to visit.

The past weeks have almost had a surreal quality and I truly cannot quite believe that the very thing that I always hoped for, but never believed would happen is coming to fruition this weekend.

I have vacillated between moments of incredible joy to tear filled fear as the day has drawn closer.

What is this monumental occasion that has my world turned upside down, you ask? Gentle reader, the daughter I released for adoption just over 27 years ago is coming for a visit.

In person.

On my doorstep.

To say I am a wreck would be a huge understatement.

She is bringing her mother and her godmother with her for this visit.

Now, the question – who do I hug first?

My father…the Yenta?

One should always be suspicious of early morning phone calls from one’s parent requesting an “impromptu lunch” but apparently, when said child stays up late and wakes with only her partial wits about her, one gives a yes answer without stopping to ponder the deeper meaning for such a phone call.

However, I did not giving this phone call one more minute of thought, rather I rose and seeing such an incredibly lovely day greeting me I rapidly filled the morning with other things – like walking the dogs, sipping coffee, listening to NPR, and yes – knitting.

Now knitting generally causes me to think and think I did this morning, and not once in all my thinking did the reason for my father’s spontaneous lunch request occur to me. A pre-occupied mind can be a thing of beauty – but ignorance is not always bliss. Yes, I was soon to learn that my bliss-filled state was about to get a shake up!

For once in my life, I can honestly say that I am thrilled that lunch with my father is not something that I find to be an occasion requiring make up and perfectly coiffed hair – yes that is right, and keep that in mind as this luncheon unfolds.

Upon my arrival at his office, I find everything strangely quiet but a burger from Bud’s is always tasty – even if the conversations there are not. Yes, my dad is a Raving Lunatic when it comes to politics and he is as far to the right as I am to the left. Polar opposites, as it were. I have learned over the years to bite my tongue and remain silent – it is always a good exercise in self-control. What should have really set off the warning bells was the inane chatter that filled the drive over to Bud’s – not one mention of Rush Limbaugh or any of his cronies, but rather the weather and other such trivial things filled the drive.

What happened next is really quite hilarious, especially after telling someone just last night that I loved surprises. When we arrived at the diner for lunch there was a guest joining us – yes, my dad in his infinite wisdom has determined that since I cannot procure a date for myself he will step up to the plate and procure one for me! Yes, you read that right – my father apparently thinks he is now a matchmaker, oy vey!

Gentle Reader, I do not often lose my temper but I could feel my blood pressure increase 100 fold as I sat down at the table. My father was grinning from ear to ear, the poor dolt whom my father had told God only knows what about me actually looked like he wished he was elsewhere but sat there gamely as my father introduced us. I somehow managed to be stunningly silent during lunch, I know – even I was amazed by this feat! I was even so rude as to send off several SMS messages off to a friend during said lunch – imagine that! Lunch proved to have epic fail qualities and then some!

The satisfaction I felt on the return trip to his office was well worth the scolding I got for my poor behavior.

I am especially thankful for makeup free, bad hair days particularly when your clothing selection that morning included baggy jeans and a ratty old sweatshirt.

Divine intervention to be sure…

When Mo Rocca learns a lesson from knitters or When life is practically perfect in every way…

When Mo Rocca learns a lesson from knitters or When life is practically perfect in every way…

Good Day, Gentle Readers from the thawing Great White North!

The world around me is finally thawing with signs of spring! It has seemed to be a long couple of weeks here in West Michigan. Winter has been fighting a valiant battle and his icy breath continues to cover the land, although the sun has melted most of the snow – but yesterday when I was letting, the dogs out I heard the familiar call of a Robin and when I looked around, I spied him hopping jauntily in my back yard! There is nothing like seeing the first Robin of the season. In addition, today we have warmed up to a whopping 56°F and you could find me outside enjoying the day – even sans sunshine, it is a glorious day outside! It seems unreal that on Monday morning when I was leaving work it was a frigid 7°F and when you factored in the wind chill it was well below zero!

While I was outside, I spied another sign of spring with a Wooly Caterpillar who was enjoying the warmth of the day as well! Can butterflies and flowers be far behind?

Last night I was fortunate to see Frost/Nixon and thoroughly enjoyed it for a number of reasons, one of which was the memories of remembering watching the Nixon Senate hearings when I was in High School. Every day when I would get home, it was all the rage over the airwaves and truly was what set me on the path for my interest in all things political. Frost/Nixon was a great movie with even better company!

While my social life is on the upswing in the most wonderful of ways, my knitting has been less than productive… my Clapotis is still languishing on the needles. FLS is growing in stature, but each row is L-O-N-G and this is not an easy to “take along” project. I have cast on a sock, but I am past the point of mindless stockinette and in the midst of cables – rending this project useless as an “easy knit.” I am restless and searching but I managed to find some shiny objects at The Twist Collective that ended up in my queue. It seems that my Cast-on-itis is flaring up again.

Finally, I stumbled upon the most hilarious of events… Wait, Wait…Don’t Tell Me proved an unwitting accomplice to Mo Rocca and his knitting faux pas a couple of weeks ago. Mo’s comments brought a barrage of comments worthy of mention on the following weeks show and Mr. Rocca constructed a well worded, if albeit misguided, apology in which he blamed Alpacas for his dislike of hand knit items. This prompted me to write in to offer my meager assistance to Mr. Rocca, which led to some hilarity for my week – and being short on blog fodder and in my promise to another, more special person, I am offering this up to my readership as a blog bone for the dry season.

My letter to the Wait, Wait Staff:

Dear Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me Staff,

I am a knitter, spinner, and weaver and I felt it imperative that I help you with Mr. Rocca’s Alpaca blunder on this week’s show… Alpaca is one of the softest and non-scratchy of fibers and a sweater knit from that would be truly a thing that the other members of your panel would be most envious of.

Mr. Rocca should count himself fortunate to have had such a warm and affectionate bed companion whilst he was overseas!

I thought I should give you a heads up before Ravelry or the Society for the Prevention of Cheap Comic Humor of Alpaca’s started their email barrage!

I would be happy to send you some socks knit with Alpaca for Mr. Rocca – however he would find himself in such a blissful state that he might prove useless to you as a Panel Member in the future.

Regards,

AsKatKnits

To which they replied:

Hello Kathy–

We apologize for Mo’s ignorance of livestock, weaving, and the whole knitting world.  I can assure you that Mo means well and is doing his best to win the knitting community over.

Thanks for listening to the show and writing in!  We love learning more about alpacas and knitting.

Best–

WaitWait

With that, Gentle Reader, I bid you adieu and go to spread Knitterly Love with the world around me and in the words of the Divine Brenda Dayne, ‘if you are cold, put on a sweater!’ Yes, life is practically perfect in every way.

Anticipation is making me wait…

Merriam-Webster defines anticipation as “the act of looking forward; especially: pleasurable expectation”

Did you ever feel like you were standing on the edge of something truly incredible?

As I left work this morning the smell of spring was in the air, riding softly on the morning breeze, creeping in quietly as Old Man Winter struggles to hold on with icy fingers.

Something you are sure you have never experienced before but you can feel it growing as a stream does with each droplet of water that, with the sun’s gentle glow, thaws from the icy winter snows.

I looked to the east as I made my way across the parking lot to my car and a gloriously beautiful sunrise was greeting the day, kissing the earth and giving a rosy blush to the snowy blanket of white that covers her – the promise of a new day quietly unfolding.

Did you ever want to slow life down so that you could immerse yourself totally in the wonder that is unfolding before you?

It seems that I am standing on the edge of incredible – anticipation is casting rays of ‘pleasurable expectation’ over me and I find myself wanting to bask in the glow as I, like the long frozen ground welcomes the harbinger of spring. I do not want to rush headlong into the experience however, I find myself hoping against hope that time stands still so I can savor each emotion, absorb every tiny nuance, and become completely engulfed in the wonder that surrounds me.

Anticipation is indeed keeping me waiting…


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