Knit & Crochet Blog week- Day 1- Starting Out.

My Grandmother was a knitter, and so was my Mother, and it was Grandma who taught me how to knit in 1957 or so when we were living with Grandma and Grandpa after my Dad left the Air Force for good.   I remember sitting with her watching "Edge of Night",  a popular soap of the time, or was it "As the World Turns"?  Grandma, in her big chair with the footstool and always knitting.  Mostly fisherman knit sweaters, or shells with the tiniest of needles.   Lots of lace, suits.   I never noticed her looking at the patterns, so I thought she was magic.  It was only recently when Mom moved, did I find the pattern books from the 1950's and 1960's when Mom and I cleaned out some of the old stuff.   Pattern books that contained the sweaters that Grandma made, but tweaked with her talent.

Here is another sample of Grandma's knitting with sequins.

The first project we shared was a doll sweater, in a salmon color.   I don't remember too much about the process, or the finished results, or what happened to it, but I do remember the holes from dropped stitches.   There is a long gap in my memory to the time of high school and college.   By then I could crochet, and knit well enough to have completed a couple of sweaters.

These two I still own and wear.   I remember a couple of things about knitting them, that the patterns were from Family Circle or Woman's Day magazine.  They are both the same pattern, with two different fair isle patterns, and one a turtle, one a crew.  Those were the days when wool was put up in 4 oz skeins (like Red Heart, but 100 % wool and for only about $1 a skein)  

 
The fair isle pattern was accomplished with bobbins, which were forever dangled and tangled on the back of the knitting.  Every other row or so, I had to stop to untangle everything.    I must have had a lot more patience then!

  I have since learned two handed stranded knitting when I knit my Kauni rainbow sweater so no more tangles.

Whatever I learned when I was 7 must have stuck with me and returned throughout my years improving with practice and new skills learned.    

BEEZY #6

No commentary this time, just more moments in time.

Beezy #5

As always, click on the picture to embiggen, and to see all the artistry and detail.

Going to the Clam Box was always a special treat, even for me in the 60's.   Not sure it still exists, but great seafood was always available on the east coast.   Mom and Dad, to their credit, always were adventurous in their eating and look at us now.  My brother and daughter in NYC, have the most varied and well prepared food at their doorsteps, and even here in Colorado, we are not satisfied with the basics...

Notice my Grandma darning socks.    I can't recall her knitting socks, but her skills were impeccable, so darning would have been within her realm of talents.  Nice looking guy, wasn't he?  My Dad must have been quite a charmer to captured my Mom's heart.

 Mom, always in charge!   She still is not one to sit still for long!   Good thing she is living in an apartment with lots of social activities and people around.

More and more, Mom shows the same dating habits of my daughters!  Like Cyndi Lauper says "Girls just wanna have fun!"

Beezy, post 4

I just spent about 3 hours scanning the rest of the Beezy Album into my computer for posting here and for keeping safely stored.   I didn't realize how many photos were actually in the album, until a couple of hours had gone by, but I enjoyed every minute.   The more time I spend with the Beezy of the late 1940's, I understand how little has changed in the single girl's dating habits.   And I see the the same scenarios happening in my daughters' lives as they travel down some of the same paths.   Here a few cartoons for this week.

Girls like to dress up and have someplace to go, but guys have never really seen it the same way.

 Remember, that this is post WWII and the big band era.   Not too many clarinets in today's pop bands, but just substitute drums or guitar and it could happen.......

 The ubiquitous cell phone, always within reach, has changed this a bit, but you still cannot take it in the shower or the tub.   And now, the girls don't hesitate to make that call first.  See the monogram on the sweater? and the checkerboard tiles?   And Grandma always had the apron on in the house, as I remember it.

 Dancing with the stars and ballroom dancing as it was meant to be.......

 Those were the days when the office buildings had elevator operators.   Mom worked on the 79th floor of the Empire State Building in Manhattan as a secretary for Forge Mills, Inc.  I tried to find some info about the company, but google wasn't helpful here.  I believe it was part of the greater garment industry.

BEEZY, post 3

More Beezy comics for your enjoyment.   As always, click on each one to enlarge and appreciate the artist's craft!

Now I know where my daughter gets it!    I don't recall my Grandpa being so formal, but I do remember that he never had a gray hair on his head!   And the house was suburban, not rural as depicted in the comic!

Grandma was a great baker and so is my Mom, and Toll House cookies have been a favorite for generations!  Even when they are a little dark around the edges......

This is my Mom showing off some sewing skills much to the dismay of her older sister, my Aunt Jean.   Aunt Jean is the musical one while my Mom is the crafty one, and she never let anything go to waste!  She still has her sewing machine in the apartment, but I have most of the knitting supplies.  There is a Hebrew phrase: L'Dor V'Dor, which roughly means "from generation to generation" and that is how talents and creativity are passed on.

Mom, you were such a heartbreaker, and again it reminds me of my daughters!

I remember the house well, a charming tudor style house in suburban White Plains, NY (yes, the house number was #9.   For 6 months in the  1950's we lived with my grandparents after Dad left the Air Force, and that was when Grandma taught me how to knit.  My first project was a coral sweater for my doll, and it had so many holes, it could have been mistaken for lace!   What I learned on her lap must have stuck with me because I have been knitting ever since.

The side porch was screened in and was the best place for breakfast and lunch.   The huge lawn with spruce trees and a flowering dogwood in the side yard was heaven for my 7 year old self.  

Pardon me while I go deep into nostalgic reverie.   

BEEZY, post 2

(click on the image to enlarge for the detail!)

You thought you were in for the evening with a good book?????   You can't fool me, Mom, you never read Shakespeare for fun, certainly not all dressed up with party shoes on!  Perpetually perplexed young man never stood a chance.   (April 14, 1947)

There always comes a time in every relationship where the inevitable happens!   Does the "Y" stand for Yonkers, NY?   Mom wouldn't meet my Dad for another 2 years, but were they from the same town?  The 

plot thickens (May 20, 10947)....................

You tell me, is not the face of my niece the spitting image of my Mom at the about the same age???!

Or my daughter:

More about the Bench!

After talking to my friend, who is pretty knowledgeable about antiques and old furniture, I was encouraged to do some research about the bench from the previous post. I looked up Limbert Furniture and Van Raalte Craftsmen from the stamp inside the drawer and came up with this listing on ebay. This is the exact same vanity that is in Mom's basement that used to match the bench before Grandma had it painted ivory in the 1960's when she moved to Florida. According to Mom, mahogany furniture was just a no-no in Florida.

And the following information was found in a genealogy website looking for info on Van Raalte:

"Van Raalte was a salesman and later head of the Limbert Furniture company from 1916 to at least 1927. He was so influential within the company that in the mid-1920s the company's furniture mark was redesigned to read "Limbert Furniture by Van Raalte Craftsmen." The Limbert company, which started out in Grand Rapids, was moved to Holland in 1906 where it continued to make furniture under the Limbert name until 1944. This company's furniture was extremely popular in the early 20th century and is still sought after by collectors of fine furniture designs in the Arts andCrafts and Colonial Revival styles."

Isn't the Internet wonderful!


edited to add 4/12/2010:   The  ebay listing and the photo are no longer available.

I get to keep the bench

When I was helping Mom get rid of the remaining furniture in her house, I turned to Craigslist for help. In the first week, I sold a bedroom set and the bench to the vanity which Mom used in the basement as a sewing storage area.

I realized after I had a positive response, and I brought the bench to my house to await the check being mailed and pickup, that I had, in fact, photographed the rear of the bench. It was lovely as it was. BUT, when I turned it around, I saw that there was a drawer in the bench, but was missing the pull. The next time I was at Mom's house, I emptied the drawers of the vanity, since I had had several inquiries about it as well, and lo and behold, I found the pull for the bench.

I attached it when I got home, hoping to find some family treasure long hidden in the drawer, but there was only about 40 years of dust there. The stamped label of the manufacturer was at the back of the drawer.

Mom had recovered this bench in blue wide wale corduroy to match the decor in her house in Connecticut, before she moved to Colorado, and I hadn't paid any more attention to it.

Again, once it was at my house, I gently lifted this fabric, where a few of the nail heads were missing and found this:

This was probably the fabric from my Grandmother's house. And there's more:

And more still:

This was the original fabric and from the looks of the way the nail heads are rough, there was probably a braiding which bordered the fabric. The bottom fabric is fragile and parchment-like after all these years. My guess is that this bench (and the vanity that it came with) date back to the late 1930's in my Grandmother's house once my Grandfather's delicatessen was a going business and the woes of the Depression were easing for the family.

Can you tell that I became quite fond of this piece in my house? I was hoping that the purchaser from Craigslist would flake out and never send the check, but sure enough on Friday the check came. I cashed it right away, and waited to hear from him (he lives in Telluride, and would have to find someone to pick up the bench for him). I was fully prepared to follow through on the transaction, because I am an honorable person and a deal is a deal.

When I talked to him on Sunday night, I told him about the drawer and the layers of family history, and how I had grown fond of the piece. He didn't hesitate a bit and offered to cancel the transaction to keep this special piece in my family. I was stunned that he was being so kind and understood what I was feeling. A full refund is on the way back to him and now I get to keep the bench. So Santa, if you know Chris in Telluride, make sure you leave him some extra goodies in his stocking this year.

Dad's Rocks

My Dad was a rock hound, especially in his later years. After retirement, he went to the local (Norwalk CT) Community College and earned a 2 year degree in Geology and Archeology, which made us all proud. The basement in CT was his workshop and he tinkered down there endlessly, studying and setting up displays with cast off jewelry and watch cases from the discount store where he worked.

When Mom and Dad moved here in 1993, only part of his collection came with them. Imagine the moving company's surprise when box after box was filled with rocks! The rest of them were dumped under the side porch where the grape vines and the trash cans were. Never did trash cans have such a lofty and lovely perch!

Before Dad died in 2007, he was adamant that his collection go to someone who appreciated them, and not to a museum where they would just be boxed and stored in some dusty basement. Since then, we have been gifting specimens to friends and acquaintances alike, spreading his love of crystals far and wide. There are still a lot in Mom's basement, which we need to deal with, many more than he moved to Colorado with, since his collecting continued here with new places to go and minerals to be found. He loved nothing more than getting down in a hole and getting dirt under his fingernails!

With Mom moving to the apartment, I culled some of my favorites, since a sizeable collection should remain with the family. I purchased 3 shelves and put them up this weekend.

The perspective is off... all the shelves are the same length! Here are closeups of some of my favorites:

We have all Dad's original documentation as to the scientific description and location where each specimen was found. Priceless. We made many inquiries about selling the collection, but the consensus was that the value was mostly nostalgic, so what to do with rest? Mom's house will go on the market soon, and we are looking for a school or hobby organization who might enjoy and appreciate one man's collection and love of these minerals.

Ideas?

My Old House.....

This is the house I grew up in: Norwalk CT. We moved from a rental house in the same town, to this one in 1958 and it was occupied by my family until 1993 when my folks moved here to Denver. Amanda took this photo today, so it is nice to see that the house is well taken care of and no changes are visible, and it is also nice to see that she is as sentimental about such things as I am. Not quite sure what she was doing in Norwalk, but I am sure I will hear the details soon.

My room was the upstairs room on the right. There was an alcove in front where I had a desk and an old fashioned kidney shaped dressing table with a three fold mirror on it, and a lavender gingham skirt. From there, it opened up to a huge space where I had 2 twin beds also in lavender gingham, a dresser and tons of bookcases. The ceiling was slanted in the front and back of the room but it was a large room by most standards. My closet was only about 3 foot wide and I honestly don't know how I lived with so little space in it. No matter, because most of my clothes were piled up on the spare bed in my room most of the time.. Truth be told, I still pile stuff, but don't tell anyone. There was only one bathroom upstairs which the 4 of us shared with very few problems. My parents were in the other upstairs bedroom while my brother resided in the main floor bedroom.

The driveway was very long as you can see, and it opened up double wide at the bottom where the garage is. It was hell to shovel and finally, Mom and Dad hired a plow which provided the space and mounds for the most elaborate snow caves/forts one can only imagine. One thing about such a long driveway... I really learned how to back up once I was driving. My skills may be rusty now, but I was a helluva backer upper in those days.

See the basketball hoop on the garage?? We had the only one in the neighborhood at the time and my adolescence was spent playing HORSE with all the boys in the neighborhood: Eddie, Bobby, Bruce, Charlie, Bradley, Hughie and anyone one else who drifted over. It is not there now, but there used to be a split rail fence along the left side of the driveway, and from there I would hold court with all my friends. Needless to say, being one of the only girls in the neighborhood had its perks. I even let my brother Steve play.....sometimes.

The wide hedge in front of the house near the street was a real chore to trim but it did afford some privacy at the house. The tree on the far right of the photo behind the hedge, was a split birch with the lovliest bark. Raking the leaves, both in front and in back, was a chore that I remember well. Those huge oaks really let go after providing their foliage show each fall. And, in the early years, before all the rules changed, we would burn tremendous piles of leaves in front of the hedge near the street. The whole neighborhood would have this wonderful smoky fragrance that would last for days. I wish I could see the rose bushes that my Dad planted, because they were his pride and joy: Peace and Tropicana are the two I can think of, off hand.

Thanks, Amanda, for the memories. You and Alison also have memories of visiting Grandma and Grandpa in this house: barbeques in the back yard, catching fireflies (which we don't have in CO), picking tomatoes from Grandpa's garden and meeting the grandkids of our neighbors.

I guess it takes only a grey dreary rainy day, and one photograph to bring it all back.

Starting over, again.

After knitting a couple of inches of my February Lady Sweater, using size 4 needles and singles, I realized that even making the xl size would result in a doll size sweater. I frogged it, doubled up the yarn, and started again, using size 8 needles. A much better weight and gauge, but now I am certain that I will run out of yarn. I do have about 1600 yards......... 400 grams but at this new rate of usage, I will certainly run out of yarn. Do I stop? Do I try to locate more yarn? Do I stick my head in the sand and continue on? Do I consider a second yarn (type or color?) to add in strategically? For the time being, I am continuing on as I consider my options. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Since this yarn was from a specific alpaca (Capella was her name!) from Stargazer Ranch Alpacas, I may have to wait till next year to get more of the same.....I may e-mail them to see if they have any just laying around.... fat chance.


Sunday is my Birthday, although at this age, I try not to make a big deal of it. I allowed Gary to buy me a new spindle which I picked out: a Golding Tsunami Purpleheart which is totally beautiful. The whorl is 2 inches and the weight is .8 oz. It arrived and I have been working on my August challenge with it. I don't know if it is just taking time to get used to it, or it is the roving I am using, or I am spinning too thick... but I cannot get it to spin very long, at least in comparison to my Tracy Eichheim. The Golding is .8 oz and the Eichheim is 1.5 oz, so it may be difference in weight and my inexperience, but I will keep working at it. The Golding spins quickly, but not for long, and then begins to unspin just as quickly. It is amazing how the different weights feel in my hands.


Last night I drove up to Broomfield to have dinner with my old college roommate, Candy. We are both old now. As a matter of fact it was 40 years ago this month that we met on our first day at U-CONN in the dorm. We were not assigned to be roommates, but we were next door to each other. We each had other roommates, who were, to be kind, a little more of a studious nature. After 4 days of freshman weekend, hanging around, having fun, and being a bit rowdy, the other roommates came to us on Sunday night and said we should just switch rooms. It was their idea, and we jumped at the chance. We then roomed together for two years and joined the same sorority. Here is a photo from spring of 1969 when Candy and I, as well as Donna and Cathy, who dubbed ourselves the 4 Musketeers, since we did everything together, watched intently the events of Greek Week. To see a more current photo of the four of us look in my archive! I am partially obsured in this photo, Candy is the one with the NATURAL blond streak, then Cathy and Donna.
Candy was in Nursing, so for Jr and Sr years, she was at the hospital and I stayed on campus. We both graduated at the same time, lived together for the summer after graduation, and traveled to Europe together. It was Candy who moved to Denver after this trip, but it took me a year to save up enough $$ to join her here. We lived together for about 6 months in Denver, then she traveled to Michigan with her future ex-husband while he was in his medical residency. We married in the same year, (1975), they moved back to Denver, and had our first daughters in the same year (1980). Raising kids on the opposite side of the metro area, we didn't stay in touch as much and now she has a son and I have another daughter and she divorced, remarried, got her masters and Doctorate in Nursing and runs the Nursing program at Regis U. We reconnected and have been getting together several times a year now.


Visiting with Candy and her folks, who were visiting because of her hand surgery, we shared a lot of the old stories, and laughs. Not to mention the great dinner Joe prepared for us all.

And here we are 40 years later, still friends.... How special is that!

Crazy weekend to come

I am picking up Amanda (#1 daughter) at the airport at noon, but except for the car ride to and from the airport, I don't know how much we will see of her. It is much like High School when she passed in the night and if we saw her car outside, we knew she was home...usually.

Hopefully we will find some time to go over and visit with Mom as she really enjoys the kids around. How lucky we are that my folks moved here when they were young enough to make a new life (after 35 years in CT) and to really have a good relationship with my kids. I was the rebel who moved away from the east coast at 23 to Colorado and never went home, except for visits. Once I married and the kids were here, I was at such a loss not having any of my family here. When you are young you don't think about those things the same way you do when the kids move away themselves. We are now scattered again, and Dad is gone. The family is shrinking and I now know how my parents must have felt with me being so far away. Now one is in New York, and the other in Kansas City. At least we have cell phones and the Verizon family network. But it is not the same.