I woke up very early this morning before dawn. There are those who would possibly complain about this, but it was a treat for me. It has given me a chance to update my other blogs, to knit and have a quiet breakfast alone before my family wakes up. My bagel is whole wheat topped with Clover Honey.
As I prepared and looked at my food some sweet yet poignant memories went through my mind. My Grandfather on my Mom’s side of the family was a beekeeper and raised roses for many years before his death more than fifty years ago. As children and young adults my siblings , cousins and I knew the taste of Grandpa Mahoney’s honey from his Honey House. Some of the honey he processed existed for more than twenty years after his death. This was honey with parts of the cone packed in the jar. We ate it on toast, had it in tea and milk. Over the years it sometimes crystallized in the jar to the extent that an open jar had to be placed in a pan of water on the stove and heated in order for it to be usable.
The Honey House was really the garage in the back of my Grandparents’ home that had been turned into my Grandfather’s storage area for his beekeeping hobby. It was small but full of honey and other treasures from his labors.
The other legacy he left was roses. He grew them in their yard. The sidewalk leading from the back door to the Honey House was lined with rose bushes. They were of almost any shade and hue. The front yard had rose bushes growing on trellises on either side of the house. The colors were beautiful. In the Spring and Summer the aroma was intoxicating. To this day I have a difficult time passing a rose bush without stopping to inhale the sweet fragrance given off by its flowers. When I do, I am almost instantly transported to those years when his rose garden flourished.
As you see, this morning’s humble breakfast was more than a Bagel with Honey and a beverage. It was a journey into a part of my life and heritage.
May your day be as Blessed as mine has already been.
Here is a picture from this weekend’s ice storm:
Many of the trees in our area are being adversely affected by the weight of the ice on them. We have been fortunate because despite the storm roads are not bad. We lost power twice this weekend, but only for relatively short periods each time.
The first time occurred overnight Friday night and into Saturday morning. We had electricity again before noon. This was pretty impressive for our neighborhood.
The most inconvenient time was yesterday afternoon. The electricity was out for most of the afternoon. It would not have been a big issue except that our plans for that time included doing laundry and cooking for the upcoming week. Instead, my family played Chess while I started knitting an afghan that is on my list of items to make in the next few weeks. We used a combination of daylight and battery operated lanterns as light sources.
Here is the beginning of the afghan:
It is based on the Take It Easy Scarf. After doing a gauge swatch I cast on 150 stitches on a #15, 47 inch circular needle. It is an easy pattern that is working up quickly and easily. I am using some one strand of blue and one strand of a dark rose acryclic from my stash. I may change colors at some point, but have not decided right now.
The afternoon turned out to be fun. We had some good family time and I got some knitting done. After the lights came on we resumed laundry and cooked.
It feels a bit selfish and extremely egocentric to write about myself, but it seems appropriate to do so in order that you know where I am coming from when I write about fiber related subjects.
First, you must know about my mother.
I grew up as the oldest child of working class parents in a major metropolitan area of the Midwest. From what I understand, my mother worked from the time she was able to return to work after I was born in the very early 1950’s. Life was not and has not been easy for her. Growing up I was aware that her life was not like that of most women of her time. She worked long hours outside the home followed my long hours after work and on her days off at home. She is dignified and proud and at the same time a very independent person. These are all qualities I deeply admire and respect.
From the time I can remember she has sewn. She has made marvelous outfits. When I was Kindergarten or first grade, she made me a pumpkin costume for Halloween. This was no ordinary costume. When I wore it, I actually looked round. It was stuffed and designed to look like a pumpkin. I had an orange hat with a green stem on the top of it to complete the outfit. If memory serves right, she made this without a pattern.
Another time she made my oldest cousin and I matching balloon skirts with hoops. These were the kind that were popular back in the 1950’s. She also made my younger brother and I matching coats when we were very young. She made shirts for my father to wear to work as well as a lot of her own clothes. The list of items she has been in my lifetime seems endless. Sometimes she used a pattern and sometimes she did not. It varied. To this day, and with a huge assortment of patterns on hand, if she doesn’t like the way an item is made she will revise the pattern.
She is also a perfectionist in almost everything she does. This is especially reflected in the way she sews. I remember her ripping out a seam because it didn’t look right. She continues to do this to this day.
As I tell you these things I hope you can hear and feel the respect and admiration I have for this very intelligent, independent and caring woman I have the honor and privilege of calling Mom. She has passed on to me some of the character qualities she possesses such as independence and perfectionism. She has also taught me the value of frugality and when to splurge on materials and tools.
I wonder why I am a perfectionist and lover of fiber arts…..Do you think it is passed on from one generation to another?? I wonder and think perhaps it is. What a treasure it is to pass on.
With love to my Mom,
her older daughter.
Finally……I am on the road again!!! My van is repaired and home once again. It’s strange how something so commonplace as a minivan can make such a difference in one’s life. Mine is nothing special in the scope of life, except that it is mine, well, really ours. But the point is it is wheels I can drive. YES!!!!I wonder just how much knitting or crocheting will be done now….Oh well..It will even out in the long run.