{Yarn Along} Mildred

Yarning along while on the road. We're rounding the end of our trip now and currently in Council Bluffs, Iowa, visiting my grandfather.
My knitting over the last day has proven to be...ugly. I just wanted something simple and mindless that doesnt take up too much space in the car, so I cast on a wash cloth. (Or as you would say here in the midwest... a "worsh" cloth.)
What can i say? Its brown. Its round, it has no rhyme or reason, no bells, no whistles. If she had a name it might be Mildred, and she might be a bit grouchy because her support stockings are too tight. And When you visit her home, her only snacks to offer are grapefruit juice, old saltines and banana flavoured hard candies that are all sort if stuck together in one unpromising wad, in the bottom of an old watkins cough drop tin.
Yes, Its safe to say that knitting Mildred right now is purely about the process, and has very little to do with the actual project. If not, she would have been frogged by now.
My reading has mostly been limited to some recipes, a few magazines weve picked up on the way and the orschelns catalogue. (Which is actually more excting than it sounds.)
Also, a few of Lottes books that have been read more during these last few days than i can count. Dr. Seuss, anyone?

Binding off, 

Corra

P.S... check out the yarn bombing I found at the old market in omaha, Nebraska!

Far Away Home {weekending}

Blogging from my phone for the first time. Eeek!

the weekend started off with the annual town wide yard sale

so many temptations

but with the constant reminder that it will have to be lugged or mailed back to Ontario

so instead of thrifted treasures i opted for a better kind...browsing through Grandma's very full recipe box, which didn't disappoint

and led to laughter over some of the notes

and maybe a impromptu, wee runza fest with my aunt in my Poppie's tiny, but well loved kitchen

Grandma dozed in the next room, and although she's fading quickly and most of her memory has long gone, i couldn't help but wonder what she would think of our laughing about some of her notes

surrounded by her beautiful paintings, i was flooded with memories of her showing me different brush techniques as a little girl

she always had turquoise rings on her long and tan fingers

 I can still remember the distinct paint smell of her little art studio that my Poppie built for her on the side of their house.

and how she would let me  carefully wash her real, sable brushes when I visited.

i remember thinking that i was pretty big business-being trusted to wash them

I missed her so much when we would have to leave that i would cry and beg to stay "just one more day".

living far away from family for so much of the year was so emotionally difficult, and it still is

its the pits

and now my kids do the begging

and i have to be the voice of reason

which is darn near impossible for someone who is already homesick for Kansas.

Dorothy wasn't kidding around when she said "there's no place like home."