After three years as a UFO, it was time to unravel it and let it go. 🏳 of defeat. I surrender!
(Sorry baby niece who is no longer a baby niece.)
💞
💕
💝
~ photo by iPhone, some filters
Showing posts with label hearts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hearts. Show all posts
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Auntie Nettie's Merchandise 2017 - Taking Heart cont'd
After three years as a UFO, it was time to unravel it and let it go. 🏳 of defeat. I surrender!
(Sorry baby niece who is no longer a baby niece.)
💞
💕
💝
~ photo by iPhone, some filters
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Happy Valentine's Day!
These kids? They are my Valentines. So I sent them something from my heart.
Nevada:
Drew, Sarah, and Cannon
 |
| Don't wake them! |
 |
| He slays me. |
 |
| Double trouble |
 |
| Eating healthier than the adults. |
Idaho:
Amber, Elle, Nathan, and Jaime
 |
| Showing me they have my hearts. |
 |
| Virtual Hugs from Nathan |
 |
| Sure, they love each other ... RIGHT NOW. |
 |
| Warm smiles from Jaime |
Apparently, while the East Coast is frozen and snowy, Idaho is having a spring thaw. The crocuses are blooming and the ladybugs swarming.
Thanks to Grumpa for the photos, as well as my sisters-in-law for updates from the kiddos.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Auntie Nettie's Attic Merchandise 2014
I probably will get another blanket done on my upcoming vacation (lots of time on planes and in cars), but given the fact that I can't seem to keep up with the blog, I thought I'd better post these now.
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ANA 2014-1: Shades of Grey Chain Moebius
One (1) skein Red Heart Dash Graphite, acrylic
ANA 2014-2: Host of Hearts for Valentine's Day and Random Acts of Kindness Day
Left-over stash of miscellaneous yarns, mostly acrylic
(no longer available, gifted)
(no longer available, gifted)
.JPG)
ANA 2014-3: Baby Pink Chevron Crib Cover
Three (3) skeins of Bernat Softee Baby (30301)
(as of 2/2014, not available, was a commission)
LATER UPDATES c. Sept. 2015:
ANA 2014-4: Denim blue blanket, bubble pattern
One (1) skein of Lion Brand Yarn, acrylic
(shown here on vacation, backseat passenger work-in-progress)
ANA 2014-5: Variegated Pink Bubble gum blankie
Three (3) skeins of loops & Threads, Snuggly Wuggly mini dots, acrylic
(no photo, as of 9/15 no longer available, gifted)
ANA 2014-6: Large Turquoise and chocolate blanket
Four (4) skeins of Red Heart Soft waterscapes, acrylic
(No photo, as of 7/14 no longer available)
ANA 2014-7: Large Pastel Open Shell afghan
One skein Loops & Threats Snuggly Wuggly, Big Baby yarn, acrylic
ANA 2014-8/9: Random long orange scarves
(no photos, mystery yarn from antiques store purchase late 2014)
Note to crafters; If you don't up date your project book/blogs in 2 years,
you forget WHEN you made things.
This one might have been from 2014 too. But I can't reconcile my notes.
ANA 201?-TBD: Light Blue bubble pattern blanket
One (1) Skein Lion Brand yarn, acrylic
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
End of an Era
I got the e-mail from Dad exactly a week ago.
The one I've been anticipating for almost three years now, the one that made it final, irrevocable.
The end of an era.
Subject: Willimantic Home Sold!
"We got call from Attorney at 12:30 PM our time that all paper work and deals had been signed.
He will Express mail us the final documents and what was left of the money tomorrow morning. New owner has keys and will be taking care of whatever needs to be done to move in ASAP.
Done and Done! Let it snow or rain, I don't have to worry about leaks, breaks, or bugs out there any more."
It really wasn't a surprise. This has been a long process of adjustment.
First there was the family announcement. Then the For Sale sign went up. The neighbors and friends began to realize. There were open houses, walk-throughs, followed by near misses due to economic issues and lack of bank financing. The moving trucks came and left for Utah. I visited, more than once, and there was the ongoing removal of "just one more thing." The calendar cycled through months and then years. Dad flew out in October to deal with a host of major issues, including, securing a new agent. Things began to finally move, and this past December, my last set of "emergency keys" were removed from my key ring ... for good.
Throughout this there were prayers and the relearning of the concepts of patience and "in the Lord's time."
But now? It's really real.
And, as I've said to a few people,
I feel weirdly ... Weird about it.
But glad.
It was time.
I have more to say ... stuff that will include pulling out and reworking the draft of the post I wrote in the immediate aftermath/processing of when my parents first told me in July 2010 ... but for now, I will leave you with this story.
The photos above are from the main entrance of the house, the formal entrance - the one we as family we would use the least, but still considered the front. To enter this way, you would ring the doorbell and get the classic two-tone chime. The "screen" door would be opened, and then you would be invited in through the classic and very solid wooden door - bedecked with it's classic oval glass, dental and fancy molding, and very vintage mail slot.
Those people who say that buildings don't have souls are wrong. When a house has been loved as a home, it will love - and show - you in return.
On many of my solo visits since my family moved out for good, I have wandered the rooms, stairs, and floors photographing and reliving my experiences under this roof. I have stroked woodwork, caressed banisters, swept out cobwebs, and infused what happy karma I could into empty corners. I have breathed in the house's distinctive scents and expelled out my blessings, whispering throughout: "Thank you. Thank you for keeping us safe. Thank you for being patient with our rough-housing. You were a good house; you were good for us. Be good for the next family. Thank you isn't enough, but thank you for everything."
As I was trying to prop the front door -- open just a crack -- to take the photo on the right, the door would continually, slowly, steadily, open wider ... as if to invite me to walk back over the threshold.
Some would blame gravity or some other physical force, but for years I sat in that room practicing my piano with my back to that door. For years I lived under that roof; I would go in and out that door to collect the mail or papers; for years, that door would welcome friends, family, guests, and then, just me ... back home ... and the door would not swing open like that.
I had to wistfully and tearfully whisper, "Thank you. I will come in for a minute, but then I have to leave. This time for good. But thank you."
The next time, the door stayed where I put it.
And then when I came in, closed the door, and threw the deadbolt, there was certain click of finality to it. The action may have been automatic, but the realization came a second later, and I had to pause and take a deep breath.
I had probably just literally and figuratively closed a door on a chapter of my life.
Until the house was sold, there was always the possibility of going back, but I think I knew then.
I had been having dreams recently too, subconscious message from beyond, that the end was coming.
Dad's e-mail made it really real. That era is over. My parents can finally exhale, and we can whisper "thank you" out to the universe again and again.
Dwellings may come and go, but there really is no place ... like a home.
The one I've been anticipating for almost three years now, the one that made it final, irrevocable.
The end of an era.
Subject: Willimantic Home Sold!
"We got call from Attorney at 12:30 PM our time that all paper work and deals had been signed.
He will Express mail us the final documents and what was left of the money tomorrow morning. New owner has keys and will be taking care of whatever needs to be done to move in ASAP.
Done and Done! Let it snow or rain, I don't have to worry about leaks, breaks, or bugs out there any more."
It really wasn't a surprise. This has been a long process of adjustment.
First there was the family announcement. Then the For Sale sign went up. The neighbors and friends began to realize. There were open houses, walk-throughs, followed by near misses due to economic issues and lack of bank financing. The moving trucks came and left for Utah. I visited, more than once, and there was the ongoing removal of "just one more thing." The calendar cycled through months and then years. Dad flew out in October to deal with a host of major issues, including, securing a new agent. Things began to finally move, and this past December, my last set of "emergency keys" were removed from my key ring ... for good.
Throughout this there were prayers and the relearning of the concepts of patience and "in the Lord's time."
But now? It's really real.
And, as I've said to a few people,
I feel weirdly ... Weird about it.
But glad.
I have more to say ... stuff that will include pulling out and reworking the draft of the post I wrote in the immediate aftermath/processing of when my parents first told me in July 2010 ... but for now, I will leave you with this story.
The photos above are from the main entrance of the house, the formal entrance - the one we as family we would use the least, but still considered the front. To enter this way, you would ring the doorbell and get the classic two-tone chime. The "screen" door would be opened, and then you would be invited in through the classic and very solid wooden door - bedecked with it's classic oval glass, dental and fancy molding, and very vintage mail slot.
Those people who say that buildings don't have souls are wrong. When a house has been loved as a home, it will love - and show - you in return.
On many of my solo visits since my family moved out for good, I have wandered the rooms, stairs, and floors photographing and reliving my experiences under this roof. I have stroked woodwork, caressed banisters, swept out cobwebs, and infused what happy karma I could into empty corners. I have breathed in the house's distinctive scents and expelled out my blessings, whispering throughout: "Thank you. Thank you for keeping us safe. Thank you for being patient with our rough-housing. You were a good house; you were good for us. Be good for the next family. Thank you isn't enough, but thank you for everything."
As I was trying to prop the front door -- open just a crack -- to take the photo on the right, the door would continually, slowly, steadily, open wider ... as if to invite me to walk back over the threshold.
Some would blame gravity or some other physical force, but for years I sat in that room practicing my piano with my back to that door. For years I lived under that roof; I would go in and out that door to collect the mail or papers; for years, that door would welcome friends, family, guests, and then, just me ... back home ... and the door would not swing open like that.
I had to wistfully and tearfully whisper, "Thank you. I will come in for a minute, but then I have to leave. This time for good. But thank you."
The next time, the door stayed where I put it.
And then when I came in, closed the door, and threw the deadbolt, there was certain click of finality to it. The action may have been automatic, but the realization came a second later, and I had to pause and take a deep breath.
I had probably just literally and figuratively closed a door on a chapter of my life.
Until the house was sold, there was always the possibility of going back, but I think I knew then.
I had been having dreams recently too, subconscious message from beyond, that the end was coming.
Dad's e-mail made it really real. That era is over. My parents can finally exhale, and we can whisper "thank you" out to the universe again and again.
Dwellings may come and go, but there really is no place ... like a home.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Auntie Nettie's Attic Merchandise 2011 - February
February wasn't such a productive month in terms of crafting for Auntie Nettie. Coding, combing through databases, compiling information, and concentrating on work either on the office or the studio computer were more of the priority this month, sadly.
I did occasionally look away from the tiny tiny series of numbers and flex another part of my brain, and remembered why the yarnarts like knitting and crochet are prescribed by therapists for their relaxing qualities. I can't wait until I drop hundreds (please, just 100s, not 1,000s) of letters in the mail and finish this big work project, so I can get back to things that don't stress me out so much.
Here's the February wrap-up, such as it is:
ANA 2011-09: Violet Chevron Lace Blanket
(as of June 2011, no longer available)
in closeup
Still in progress:
2010: Stuffed Animal/Multi-fiber chevron blanket2011: Secret project
I did occasionally look away from the tiny tiny series of numbers and flex another part of my brain, and remembered why the yarnarts like knitting and crochet are prescribed by therapists for their relaxing qualities. I can't wait until I drop hundreds (please, just 100s, not 1,000s) of letters in the mail and finish this big work project, so I can get back to things that don't stress me out so much.
Here's the February wrap-up, such as it is:
ANA 2011-07: Minty Green Chevron Lace Blanket
in a badly lit close-up:
ANA 2011-08: Lots of hearts for Valentine's Day "Secret Cupid" and other future projects
(not all of the hearts are pictured here)
ANA 2011-08: Lots of hearts for Valentine's Day "Secret Cupid" and other future projects
(not all of the hearts are pictured here)
ANA 2011-09: Violet Chevron Lace Blanket(as of June 2011, no longer available)
in closeup
Still in progress:2010: Stuffed Animal/Multi-fiber chevron blanket2011: Secret project
As ever, if you see anything you'd like, just contact me for sizes, availability, and costs.
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