Minimum knitting content up front:
Two sleeves, one diamond repeat under my belt. Increases are marching up the sides, hidden there in ever expanding double seed as the sleeves start to look, well like sleeves. It is official, I'm getting bored with the cardi and ready to move on. It will be some time before this happens so I'm hanging in there. The knit group(s) girls are going crazy, vintage sweater/shells, blankets, almost finished sweaters with glitz----- and even a turtle! My next project was ordered on Monday. I had to have something FUN and maybe even a little silly. I'll be knitting chickens! (This is so totally your fault Kathy!)
The new loft (moving in under a month, yikes) will be done in French Country, I think a whimsical chicken or two will be rather fabulous!! Miles of natural cabled wooly goodness relief!!! I have been saying of late that I am knitting a boat cover. A boat cover!!! That is surely how it feels!
So, back to the vacation, the story, all those bits that you may find too personal or most boring. If that is the case===== wander on! :) I won't get my feelings hurt one bit!
The rest of vacation (outside of a couple shoots for work, one of which was cancelled which really torqued me off!)---- was spent eating seafood, lazing by the pool, going to the beach (one trip with the dogs and one without),-
eating more seafood, and knitting the occasional row or two.
The plate above is short on presentation deets from the kitchen but the shrimp in a sweet and sour bbq sauce were heavenly. Talk about fresh, yum.
When it was finally time to leave Florida, to head back to the realities of moving and work and life in general the weather was a gorgeous 86, bright blue skies and clear as a bell. We pulled out sadly headed for home. Home. Home right now is a gorgeous 100 year old house that I've made mine over the past 5 years with blood sweat and tears. Home that I'll be leaving. It's okay.
My brother lives in Ocala, about 3 hours down the road. He's my brother from 'forever', not by blood but by life. I hadn't seen him in 5 long years and we'd planned to stop and have a cup of coffee. See, the last words we had were shortly after my Mom had passed away and they weren't pretty ones. He was in a bad place financially (not much new there), like REALLY bad. My brother had always lived with my Mom even into his 40's, he worked the back end of the clock so wasn't underfoot, but around to keep an eye out for her and fix the occasional problem. The short verse is that he sold her home (which was paid for) and used all of the proceeds to try and get his butt out of a jam. I was so hurt that not only was I never given the opportunity to have some closure with her home but that every single penny went into his pocket. I told him that I thought he was dead wrong and should be ashamed. Our contacts from that point out were brief, and mostly around the holidays. Personally I think he knew he was an idiot about it all and that is the reason he kept his distance. Even sadder is that his financial jam never did get better, all of that money and the loss of the home I'd always hoped to retire to was gone. Irretrievably gone.
Remember how I said I try not to judge? Well, that still holds true but I do believe that you can't just stuff down feelings. I felt the need to tell my brother that what he did was wrong. I didn't yell or scream, I just told him the facts from my side. So years marched on with small contacts, mostly from me. They felt forced and I know he was hurting and sad. I'd made plans to stop and see him on our way through the sunshine state before my birth brother passed away. After the fact it seemed even more important.
We pulled into my brothers place of employment. The area he lives in is hurting financially like much of the country, especially Florida. He's taken a a pay cut, glad to be working. He lives with a friend and they recently lost their home to foreclosure so he's happy to have a place to live and a job that pays something, though not enough. When I saw him, fresh from the wound of having lost a brother to death, my heart broke. It absolutely broke in two. He works at a car dealer, back in the service department. Good honest work to be sure, he was dirty and just looked so damn tired and old. Thinner in body and hair, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders that were decidedly less square and upright. So very sad. We hugged and it felt to me like he was just broken, looking for a fix I could not provide. What I can give you is love, and the forgiveness for what you undoubtedly consider the worst sort of treason. We talked, hugged some more and I headed off down the road because he had to get back to work. I know that we will try to build things back, but there is so much under the bridge. I can let it go but my fear is that he can't.
I cried all the way to Atlanta.
We stayed in a dog friendly hotel at a good rate, ate some good delivery pizza and hit the sack. I was worn out. The next day we drove the remainder of the way home-------- where spring had arrived in my absence.
I've been home now long enough to be losing the little tan I had. Touched base with my lovely knit group girls-------- the touchstone always feels sweet. The pay per load junk people have been to my basement which now looks fabulous and the last load of Christmas that will never fit in the loft is almost on the way to storage via the SUV. I've said farewell to tons of fabric and patterns (no yarn!!) and the cleaning and purging of 'stuff' has felt pretty good all in all. I've sold my pink scooter and my matched set of never swung golf clubs. Now if I could sell my gorgeous dining room set and the extra bedroom set.
I think that there is a new somethin-somethin out there...............................