Collage

Tonight we turn the calendar to a new year, venturing more fully into a new decade.  What amazing changes 10 years can bring...
During this past decade, we buried both my mother and my father...saw the Twin Towers crumble and our country engage in wars on two fronts (our men and women in uniform still remain in both Afghanistan and Iraq).  Our family celebrated two weddings and a birth,  joyfully welcoming Chris, Alexis, and little Alexander to Clan Campbell.  Jim endured heart surgery, and I battled breast cancer.  Matthew sustained his ongoing productive life in the community, Barbara left Pennsylvania and settled in North Carolina, initially a city dweller who now enjoys the country life with her family.  Robert fulfilled his dream of being a full time actor, later changing careers to assume a different stage and role, that of classroom and teacher.  We bought bikes, and discovered trails, plumbing the beauty of Central Pennsylvania.  We reunioned and reunited with friends and family.  We added on to our home, twice expanding and redoing to make Woodland Drive a welcoming place for family and retirement.  We traveled to Sunset Beach, Moorestown, and Pittsburgh, seeking pleasure and seeing family.  Our niece gave birth to a beauty named Lydia, after my mother and her great-grandmother. Jim retired while I continue to teach, my school life changing dramatically as a result of the digital age.  We email, iChat, iPhoto, Facebook, Flip Video, TiVo, and blog.  We recycle, reuse, and "repurpose." We buy and "eat locally."  I can, jam, and fill our freezer, even this year with a hog purchased from the farm of one of my students. I rediscovered sewing and continued to knit my way through the seasons, marking birthdays with socks, Christmas with woolens for heads and hands, and the birth of babies with blankets and sweaters.  Prayer shawls and the sacred space they create enchanted me.  We added rescued cats to our empty-nest family--Katie and Max.  And now Max, Gracie, and Lily who add immeasurable spark, warmth, companionship and joy to our days.  We walk to ameliorate hunger and end cancer.  We seek justice for the homeless, the hungry, the disenfranchised, and the disabled.  We worship, we pray, we petition, and we give thanks for all the good gifts of our lives....

Happy New Year...may 2011 bring more gifts untold...

Silent Night

Sleep in heavenly peace.... Merry Christmas!

Gratitude

"The measure of a society is found in the way that it cares 

for its weakest members." - Mahatma Ghandi

'Tis the season to celebrate our appreciation and love for those who surround us.  A group of people who mean so much to our family is the Strawberry Fields staff who make it possible for our son Matthew to live and work in his community.  It is their good work, their ongoing patience, care, and dedication, that enables him to continue to grow and develop in oh so many ways.  Through the years he has lived in his group home, he has gained confidence and independence.  And for all of this, we are most grateful.

Still having fun

...making these bedtime bags à la Amanda Soule's first book, The Creative Family.  This morning at church, I have simultaneous commitments--a baby shower and the Christmas program rehearsal; it will be more rehearsal and less shower. But my baby shower gift is this bag, labeled with Simon (the-baby-on-the-way's name!) and filled with Pete the Cat and the book of the same name.

Handmade

I remember one Christmas during those early-married, lean years when I made every single one of our gifts.  If memory is correct, we were living in an apartment in East York, Matthew was about two, and Barbara was on the way.  When Jim landed his first job with Penn State as Area Representative for Continuing Education, his salary was $9,504.  After living on part time wages of college students, we were convinced we were rich.  But our apartment there was more expensive that the $85 we paid to live on the second floor of an old home on West Nittany Avenue, and we soon found out that it isn't cheap to raise a family.  A young stay-at-home mom, I intended to do my part in making our paycheck stretch, and making our Christmas gifts was one way to give more for less.  If I remember correctly, that was the Christmas of cross stitch, decoupage, and macrame'.

Our salaries have risen since those days in the early 1970's, and since then I have learned to make lots of different things which are a whole lot more practical  (and desirable) than a hanging planter or decorated recipe box (although I am now using one given to my mother!).

For a teacher, the last several weeks before Christmas are hard days to drive off to school.  My heart desires keenly to be home, putting up the tree, decorating the house, baking, wrapping, and finishing up the last of my handmade gifts.  Due to a bum back, I have been home the past two days (bad news/good news), and today, I pulled together my knitted gifts for family, along with some assorted gifts for our neighbors, for my school friends, and for our church friends.

Summer jam paired with  Zimmerman's Peanut Butter (a family and friend favorite!)

...bagged and tagged

...and this Caramel Corn.

Home Improvement

For the past six weeks, our house has been under improvement, construction, and renovation...wonderful to imagine but taxing to live through. 

We began by completely redoing our powder room, which I am embarrassed to admit, has remained the same for the entire 17 years we have lived in this house.  My inspiration was a mirror that has been in my family (for a very long time) and in my house (since I have been married), basically forever, it seems.  We added a tiled floor, fabulous wallpaper, matching sink and commode, in addition to, a nifty (handmade) cupboard door.  Then we spruced up our kitchen with new paint, new jewelry (knobs) for the cabinets, and a flashy new rug. My inspiration?  My daughter's artwork.

After that, the real fun began. We are adding a room to our lowest level.  We are making a television room (I know my children who grew up without cable or much television in their young lives can't quite believe this) to accommodate our family, so that our children and grandchildren don't need to sit on the floor to watch a film together.  Our bottom floor has been ripped up, nothing is in its place, there is dust all over, and Jim and I are rather sick of living in disorder.  But...oh the promise of what will be.

Everyone is coming home for Christmas...the actual impetus for this project.  And I am convinced it will be ready; our contractor told us so.  But until then, we run the vacuum and live among tarps.  Jim and I keep saying, "It will be beautiful...it will be great...it will be magical.... it will be OVER...someday, soon!"

I made new dishcloths to match my new kitchen, following a very old, very traditional pattern--the ballband pattern made from classic, dishcloth yarn, the pattern printed on the paper band that circumnavigated the yarn--hence the term, "ballband" for those who care to understand (I was curious about that when I happened upon the pattern). Old and new together.  Perfect.

November Jam

I have never used frozen fruit to make jam, I have never made jam in November, and I have never made jam with Alexis and Bri.  Last night, I did all three, creating a most delightful day-after-Thanksgiving event.

A few posts ago, I wrote about teaching my darling daughter-in-law how to can.  I had purchased a dozen quilted jam jars for that same weekend, just in case we had time left over to do some jamming.  But applesauce takes a long time to make and then can, so we never got to jam.  We remedied that last night.

We are developing a Thanksgiving tradition that suits us well, especially with me still teaching.  Thanksgiving day, I prepare our meal in a leisurely fashion, and then Jim, Matthew, I and whomever (this year it was Matt's housemate Dan and Raven who works with both of these men) sit down to give our thanks later in the day.  Rob, his wife Alexis and her sister have been appearing on Black Friday, when the ladies hit the Black Friday stores, I make my mother's Scalloped Turkey casserole and we share  a Thanksgiving redux.  The holiday goes on and on in a sweet family sort of way.

After dinner last night, Alexis said, "I feel like putting my jammies on and making something."  And we did..make something: actually two batches of something--13 jars of raspberry and raspberry/peach jam.  We used these amazing raspberries a friend gave me (already frozen!) from the bounty of her overflowing bushes. We threw in some of my frozen peaches for batch two.  Curious if using frozen fruit would make it set or taste differently, Alexis and I could not taste any difference.  Good to know.

It sure is fun to jam in November!

Happy Thanksgiving

"Now thank we all our God,

with heart and hands and voices,
who wondrous things hath done,
in whom his world rejoices;
who from our mother's arms
hath blessed us on our way
with countless gifts of love,
and still is ours today."

                        --Martin Rinkart, 1663

 

Mitts, Mitts, and More Mitts

I love making and wearing mitts.  With at least half a dozen mitt patterns already knit, I probably have a dozen more patterns downloaded to try.  On these cool, late-fall mornings, I enjoy rooting through the jumble of hats, gloves, mittens, and scarves in our winter woolen basket to select a pair of mitts from my own personal stash.  Encountering almost blustery weather during after-school bus duty this week, I was especially grateful to have grabbed a pair of mitts on my morning dash out the door.

Thanksgiving arrives next week, and Christmas soon follows.  For some reason, I feel a bit slow on the knitting uptake for this holiday gift-giving season.  In years past,  my Christmas knitting list was well formed by the time school began in September.  But this Fall, I have been knitting just a lot of mitts (some of these and some of these). Even though I am still uncertain who will be gifted from the pile sitting in the cedar chest, I do  know lots of fingers will be free and many hands will be warm.  Mitts are good for that.

A Good Fit

I have been knitting sweaters a long time. The second thing I remember knitting (after a pair of slippers) was a striped sweater vest, made from acrylic yarn. I still have that now wrinkled, simple pattern, courtesy of a Community Education "Introduction  to Knitting" class I enrolled in shortly after our first child was born (...that would be winter of 1973. Oh my!).  Since I have been knitting almost 40 years, you would think that I would be able to knit a sweater that satisfies, in other words, a sweater that fits in a properly pleasing manner.  It is not as easy as it would seem to guess what a particular pattern, gauge, and yarn will yield on this aging body.

Today, I sewed the buttons on a sweater vest I knit up with  a few skeins of Paton yarn (on sale), hoping that this snugly fitted sweater vest would suit my need for warmth without sleeves. A simple little piece for this transitional time of year.  A quick, slip-on sweater that wasn't too big, too long,  too wide or too bulky (my complaints about other sweaters I have knit for myself).  I think it may just work!   I made a few changes, simplifying the edges and adding more buttons down the front.  This is one, I do think, I may wear a lot.

[As I am posting, Joe Paterno just won his 400th football game, making him the winningest coach ever in college football. And to think, he actually slept here, once living in our basement, the former home of the football coach who preceded him--Rip Engle. Our own a little piece of Penn State History!]

Elixir

School and life seemed to be getting a bit heavy and then I left...to fly South and spend time with a magical five-year old (and his mama and da too) who always manages to lift my spirits and set life aright....again.

The Ultimate Compliment

Two weeks ago, a colleague grabbed me in the hallway, gushing, "Just the person I have been wanting to see!"  Really, what a nice greeting.  She proceeded to tell me that the bibs I knit for her son are their absolute favorite bibs, tacking on a request to knit some more for her daughter.  She offered to pay.  Of course I agreed to maker more, flattered by the compliment; however, instead of payment, I suggested  she make a donation to our local PAWS in memory of a fellow member of her history department, a wonderful man (and teacher) who died too soon last June.  I finished the bibs this weekend.

I am uncertain what compels me to be continually on the "make" with yarn and needles; I always have a project or two piled in a knitting basket or bag, I always have yarn and patterns awaiting, and I am always making lists and rearranging lists of projects and gift ideas to give to family and friends.  I am never totally certain people really enjoy the things I make as much as I relish making them.  And maybe that's okay.  The making + the giving = a needed spark of creativity in my daily life. It isn't essential to know exactly how they are used after I wrap these projects up and gift them to someone.

These bibs are included in what would certainly be listed among my top ten favorite knitting books--Mason Dixon Knitting: The Curious Knitter's Guide.  The book contains simple patterns, many made with dishcloth yarn, along with wonderful stories of knitting, craft, and friendship.  If you knit, buy it.

Green Beans and Applesauce

It was a bit of a joke with my husband--any Herman family meal was incomplete without green beans and applesauce.  While that is not precisely true, it is also not too far off the mark.  As a child growing up in the 50's and 60's, I think I experienced a rather scant vegetable choice from Birds Eye, and for some crazy reason, which is no longer true, neither my brother nor I were fond of broccoli, brussels sprouts, or asparagus. The green vegetable was, truth be told, often green beans (or the other staple--peas).  The applesauce bit is actually a better story.

My Herman grandparents both descended from farming families; therefore, when they purchased their home in Coreopolis, they bought several acres, enough for huge gardens, both vegetable and flower, and a small orchard of fruit trees (apple, peach, pear, and cherry).  Their apple trees were an old variety, a summer Transparent apple. I think this variety is no longer readily available. Lodi is the closest thing to it.  My applesauce  (and apple pie!) palate was formed by Grandma Herman's applesauce, and they way I make it with a Foley Food Mill is the way she taught me and also the same way my mother made it.  My mother would can two bushels of apples each summer, a day-long family project, and we routinely plucked those quart jars from her basement canning shelf.  Applesauce was served often and at any meal--breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

The legacy lives on.  A couple of weeks ago, my daughter in law asked me if I would teach her how to make and can applesauce. This weekend when Rob came up to root Penn State onto what turned out to be a disappointing loss (so sad), Alexis came up for the canning lesson, which is really the passing on of a family tradition. She took to it so naturally...I couldn't be more pleased.

High Tech/Low Tech

My husband bought me a Kindle for my birthday last weekend. Yes, I confess, it was in response to a rather pointed suggestion on my part: "Wow, only $139 on Amazon! A nice birthday gift don't you think?"

Now, I simply must to learn to use it, adjusting to a dramatically new leisure reading medium. It is small, slim, light--easy to pack for a plane trip to North Carolina or a week at the beach (gone are the days of cramming a tote full of my reading material into an already packed car!). Ah, but I do so love the look and the feel of books, the perusing of the cover, the leafing through the pages, the glancing ahead (yes, I am an inveterate reader of the end before I get there--really my only "cheating" moments).

A survey of some Kindle-reading friends uncovered that they all do both--read books printed on paper and books appearing on screen. I intend to learn that juggling act. However, my Kindle still sits in its box, awaiting the end of Mockingjay, the third book in Suzanne Collins' Hunger Game's trilogy. But after that...Little Bee is ready to go, already loaded onto my little gray reading machine.

I am knitting this cute little cosy to cover my Kindle. I find the juxtaposition of an old craft covering a new technology rather delightful.

Linen

Once as I rued the crushed composure of a long, periwinkle blue linen skirt, my mother told me to cherish those "rich wrinkles." Now, I most certainly do.

I am convinced my love of knitting began as an attraction to many things textile, so as soon as my mother thus uniquely described linen, a special fondness for that fabric ensued.

Linen, labor intensive to manufacture, is one of the oldest textiles existing. Fragments have been found in prehistoric caves. Egyptian mummies were wrapped in linen, seen to this ancient civilization as a symbol of light and purity (as well as a display of wealth).

Two weeks ago, my copy of Joelle Hoverson's More Last-Minute Knitted Gifts arrived, and the first pattern to catch my eye was the Linen-Stitch Bookmark. Little needles + fine yarn and more time than one would think = a lovely little bookmark. I am making a yarn version of linen...to mark a book. How charming. How perfect.

The Best Part of Me

My Arms

I have never really liked
my arms, so similar to my grandmother’s–Germanic, stocky, hardworking, thick; born of
farm work, school rooms,
and gardens of flowers.

A bit too fleshy too droopy
these unsung limbs of mine
have climbed trees, ladders, and rocks; they have carried books to school and from the library
to a grandson awaiting
a bedtime story.
They have held a ballet pirouette,
swung a hockey stick,
embraced my sweet husband,
and lifted my children from their cribs. They have been ushered down aisles and
they have cradled my dying parents.

Tanned and just mildly toned, they have been pocked with poison ivy, marred by Florida mosquitoes,
scratched by cats and holly bushes,
bruised by unintended collisions,
and jostled in crowed school hallways.

These same arms grabbed in joy by friends,
jangle my mother’s silver bangles
pilot my bike into the woods,
raise the telephone to my ear
stir pots of summer tomato sauce,
feed the fur folk of our home
serve as sleeve holders for sweater warmth and comfort
and swing wide in story telling, punctuating a tale.

Yet while I lament their aging,
noting spots, flab, and folds,
they serve me faithfully:
sturdy, solid, and strong,
propelling me (boldly!) into my future.

--Mrs. Campbell

( I wrote this in response to my students' getting-to-know-you assignment, our first piece of writing of the school year. Our inspiration? This book.)

Happy Labor Day

“We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground.” -Henry David Thoreau

May today bring rest from labor, relaxation for the body, and renewal for the soul.

September Starts

Last week my 5 year old grandson started kindergarten, a huge event for him, his parents, and for his Nana. In the end, he resolutely climbed those bus steps, stood tall, and waved goodbye. I am so proud of him. Earlier the same week, his mother and dad both returned to their university classrooms, and just days ago, son Rob and I headed back to our high schools, to be with our high school students. School is back in session.

This blog, billed as a knitting blog, has become a place for me to write about just about everything, From cooking to family history (and history in the making) to pets and friends and animals and the seasons, I try to capture snippets of life by wrapping them in words and images.

I haven't really used this space much to dream or project, but I think I might be remiss (and perhaps dishonest) if I didn't confess that I entered my classroom this year with thoughts that this could well be my last first day of school. I may be retiring in June if all goes according to plan. I have thought a lot about what retiring might bring and what it might mean. I have an ever expanding list on my computer of retirement ideas, and my husband and I often speculate on what we will be doing "this time next year" when I (most likely) will be retired (perhaps you can see I am not totally and utterly committed to declaring this yet!).

Summer began for me sitting in a park in Harrisburg watching Gamut Theatre's amazing production of William Shakespeare's As You Like It. Jacques' most famous soliloquy was never more brilliantly delivered to my ear nor resounded in my heart as on that crisp, clear June evening:

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts"

While making my entrance into this school year, I cannot help but consider when to take the proper exit. You see, I believe it may well be my time to consider playing another part...

Blueberry Crumb Bars

Yesterday, our son called to propose that he and his lovely wife make a quick, before school starts trip here. What a wonderful, serendipitous summer gift! We shared a tasty supper, assembled from the bounty of the season--corn on the cob, chicken on the grill, green beans, tomato/onion/green pepper and vinaigrette salad, and a new cookie recipe for dessert. Try these! Here is the recipe (I used my frozen July blueberries):

Blueberry Crumb Bars
(Adapted from AllRecipes.com)

1 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup cold unsalted butter (2 sticks or 8 ounces)
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
Zest and juice of one lemon
4 cups fresh blueberries
1/2 cup white sugar
4 teaspoons cornstarch

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Grease a 9×13 inch pan.

2. In a medium bowl, stir together 1 cup sugar, 3 cups flour, and baking powder. Mix in salt and lemon zest. Use a fork or pastry cutter to blend in the butter and egg. Dough will be crumbly. Pat half of dough into the prepared pan.

3. In another bowl, stir together the sugar, cornstarch and lemon juice. Gently mix in the blueberries. Sprinkle the blueberry mixture evenly over the crust. Crumble remaining dough over the berry layer.

4. Bake in preheated oven for 45 minutes, or until top is slightly brown.) Cool completely before cutting into squares.blueberry crumb bar

Yield: I cut these into 36 smallish rectangles

These are easiest to cut once chilled, and store even better in the fridge than they do at room temperature–something unusual for cookies!

On the wane

Last evening biking around campus, I couldn't help but see signs of fall abounding. The sun is setting sooner and yesterday, it seemed especially close and brilliant. A more than slightly detectable fall chill hangs in the dusk air. Hopeful Blue Banders line Penn State practice fields as the director barks out amplified commands. The dorms fully filled and fully lit spill out their occupants who dribble basketballs on courts, throw footballs on nearby grassy grounds, or simply congregate on sidewalks.

Tuesday, I head back to school. This past week we took a final getaway jaunt to Pittsburgh to ride the Montour Trail, a Rails-to-Trails path that winds through Moon Township, the same parcel of land where my grandparents once lived. We visited my Aunt Betty, who at 92 is still as sharp as ever. She baked us cookies--oatmeal with crasins; they were delicious. We also found The Dor Stop Restaurant, one of the places featured on the Food Network's "Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives" (one of my husband's favorite television show, second only to watching his Pittsburgh Pirates). I had amazing banana oatmeal pancakes, and we enjoyed delightful conversation with the owner and his daughter who told us stories of meeting Guy Fieri and his Food Network crew.

All in all, a perfect summer capstone.

Small things

"Let's give our thanks for little things
that waking up each morning brings..."

I have been working small lately--napkins, these, socks, dishcloths, drawstring bags, etc. I haven't even decided which gifts go where, but rather simply have rested in the pleasure of creating something from the yarn and fabric stashed around my house.

Too often I fear I live my life making ambitious lists, adding on to things, or embellishing ideas, ultimately making them far more complicated than need be. Uncharacteristically, this summer began with a relatively short list of things to accomplish; that list is now complete. I cleaned a bit, read a bit, reconnected with family and friends (actually more than a bit), biked, cooked, froze, jammed, and took as many naps as I think I needed. This is not to boast that I conquered the summer simplicity scene, because truthfully, the family stuff (the beach week and reunion week) seemed a bit like staging a minor theatrical production, complete with cast, crew, set, and props. That really was no ones fault but my own.

In a little over a week, work routine and school demands return. My yearly mantra when school resumes is typically to admonish myself to live fully in the present, enjoying each moment while refusing to worry about what lies ahead. This year, I hope I listen.

Peaches

...and raspberry peach jam. August.

Back-to-School Sales

Two weeks from tomorrow, I officially go "back to school," as I return for three days of in-service. Three weeks from tomorrow, I welcome students into my classroom. And of course, all the "Back to School" sales have been well underway for who-knows-how-long...

Already, I have gathered for one, sort-of-informal breakfast gathering with two of my co-teachers and attended one formal meeting to consider the "9th Grade Academy" our school district intends to implement one year from now. I really should be planning but...instead, I decided to sew today (in large part because this morning I was waiting on the dishwasher installation which, I am happy to report, is complete!)

Our church collects blankets, soap and relief kits in September for our world mission effort. In the past several years, I have assembled one or two layette kits, knitting baby sweaters to include with the cloth diapers, onesies, sleepers, undershirts, etc. But this year, I decided to pull together a sewing kit and some school kits. And so today, I sewed up three draw string tote bags and then went shopping at Walmart for 15¢ notebooks, $1.00 scissors and crayons, along with the other reasonably priced supplies needed to fill the bag.

I had fabric to use, purchased from a yard sale, so I only needed to cut squares of material to the required size, follow the easy pattern found here, sew up the edges, create a casing, thread the cord for the drawstring, stuff the tote and ta da! Here they are. My hope is that these scissors, pencils, paper, rulers, erasers, and colored paper will help some children some other where than here learn a little bit better and know a little more fully that seeking an education matters.

Yarn Haiku

Patches of color
flow gently from my needles
cascading prayers.

(This prayer shawl is destined to go to Nicaragua in March, along with the medical mission team from our church.)

Unplugged yet connected

“One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”
-Robert Frost

We were without the use of our landline telephone and plagued by spotty internet connection for a full week last week. I must confess that it was a bit disconcerting how anxious this made me feel. How have I become so tied to wires and wireless connections that when they snap, I feel as if the ground shifts and footholds disappear?

In the middle of being off the grid, we held Camp Alexander, our annual summer week with our grandson (without his Mama and Dad). What a glorious week it was. We spent every day but one (the day we went to Harrisburg to see Aunt Alexis' owls and kingly Uncle Rob) in the water. We splashed and he tubed the magical Spring Creek, we experienced the outdoor pool at Penn State, and we swam (and boated) several times in waters of Whipple Dam. We were outdoors so long and so often that my tan is deeper than after a week on a North Carolina beach!

Before bed each night we read James and the Giant Peach, during the day we molded play dough, built block garage complexes, created a chalk roadway on every hard surface surrounding our house, looked for butterflies, and watched rabbits scamper in the yard. One rainy morning we simply sat observing pools of water forming on the street outside. Alex quietly stated, “Nana, I love watching the rain make puddles on the road.” I can’t remember the last time I puddle watched, but most assuredly, it has been far too long.

The juxtaposition of a child’s innate capacity for unfettered play with my own seemingly peripatetic pattern of relating to the world through a keyboard or a phone has been revealing. My wired life creates a surreal urgency that robs me of the truly significant. I need to do less to live more fully…every, every day.


p.s. In addition, my dishwasher died last week. The jury is still out on whether or not washing dishes by hand creates spiritual discipline.

Summer Reunions

The past week has been total immersion in an ongoing reunion with family and friends. Our days were filled with the best of summer--multiple family dinners (our dishwasher never remained unfilled), a beautiful new grandniece, a day trip dedicated to exploring family history, afternoons of water fun in a magical stream, an evening at a baseball game, and a weekend of reconnecting with high school memories and friends.