On Hacky Sack Promises:

Here is the Pattern for the Hacky Sack juggling balls I promised.

The picture are not here. My camera cord is not working and Mountain Man’s computer doesn’t have a memory card reader slot. I don’t have a converter either. When I do I will post this again as an extra post with picture.

While making this I tried a few different patterns and the ball shaped ones made for a oval sack after a few uses. So I went with a disk ends and tube sides style and it worked just fine. Keeps its ball shape after many hours of play.

Crochet Hacky Sack (You can go color crazy. All the knots hide inside.)
Filled with dried beans or plastic pellets.

I used ‘Sugar’ n Cream’ cotton from ‘Lily’ for the larger ones 2 1/ 2 inch, 6.5 cm and size 10 crochet cotton for the smaller ones 1 3/ 4 inch, 4 cm.
Some other people use embroidery thread for this and it looks less dull at first, but using the balls takes care of that new look.

[ ] will hold the extra instructions for the smaller size. All abbreviations are first used in text in ( ) after the word.

Size F hook [Size 0 zero hook]

Chain (ch) 4, slip stitch closed into ring.
(Use fairly tight stitches (sts) so you don‘t loose the fillings.)
Row 1- Ch 2, (this equals first stitch), then single crochet (sc) over chain and tail sc 8 stitches sts into ring. (9 sts) Join with slip stitch at top of first stitch. (Pull on tail string to close hole if too large and knot.
Row 2- Ch 2, sc in same stitch, *(sc X 2) *in each stitch across row. (18 sts) Join.
Row 3- Ch 2, sc in same, *(sc 2, sc 2X in next st.) *repeat 4X, sc 2. (24 sts)
Row 4- Ch 2, sc in same, *(sc 3, sc 2X in next st.) *repeat 4X, sc 3. (30 sts)
Row 5- Ch 2, sc in same, *(sc 4, sc 2X in next st.) *repeat 4X, sc 4. (36 sts)
[Row A- Ch 2, sc in same, *(sc 5, sc 2X in next st.) *repeat 4X, sc 5. (42 sts)]
Rows 6 - 10 - sc in each stitch of previous row. (36 st) [42 sts]
[Row B- Ch 2, sc 5, *(skip (sk) stitch (st), sc 6) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.
Row 11- Ch 2, sc 4, *(sk st, sc 5) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.
Row 12- Ch 2, sc 3, *(sk st, sc 4) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.
Row 13- Ch 2, sc 2, *(sk st, sc 3) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.
Row 14- Ch 2, sc 1, *(sk st, sc 2) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.

Add Beans, I used soy beans, but you can use pony beads or other plastic beading/ stuffing sold at craft stores.

Row 11- Ch 2, *(sk st, sc 1) *repeat 4X, sk st. Join.
Cut 5 inch tail.

Here I add as many beans as I can get into the little hole to make it fairly tightly filled. (In a short time of use it will feel a lot looser.)

Take the tail and pull it through the other side of the hole and pull tight then knot to close and tuck tail inside.

Addition: You can make a size in between using the size 10 crochet cotton and zero hook and pattern, by adding five more rows; two more increase and decrease rows and another plain row in between. (Going smaller with the Sugar’ n Cream and size F hook pattern didn’t work as well.)

On If Its Tuesday, I Must be a Balled Senior:

It is in fact a Tuesday. Around here Tuesday is Senior Citizen day. Senior discounts in stores, free samples, free parking at some locations, that kind of stuff.

This leads us to shop on Tuesdays, because we are not stupid and who wants to spend more on something if on Tuesday you can get it for less.

We get an extra five percent off our groceries bill on Tuesday. Barring a few items such as booze and smokes, which we don’t use much of at all and not smokes ever anymore.

I get most of my exercise on Tuesdays, walking around shopping and hauling groceries into the house.

Mountain Man and I have been looking for fun ways to exercise and he has found juggling again.

I have these balls for exercising my hands against my carpal tunnel syndrome. On occasion, Mountain Man would take them and do a little juggling with them. Then he would leave them, not at all where he found them, and I would spent time looking for them before using them myself.

Today Mountain Man confessed and announced that he would be adding juggling to his exercise program. (So I would know where my balls were going when they disappeared.)

I fixed him. I grabbed my crochet hooks. Okay I dusted them off first and in less then two hours I had made him seven juggling bean bag balls. (Hacky sacks) Four small and three larger. More to come when my hands stop hurting. Did I mention that crochet aggravates my carpal tunnel the worst?

I got my balls back. I really need them now, of course, I’ve been crocheting. But I really like making him things he can use and he likes.

Tomorrow I’ll post the pattern I came up with. The free ones I found on the web were not the best.

With pictures!!! Mountain Man finally agreed to let me load the picture program for my camera on his computer.

On Breathing My Last Mall:

Well the humidity has broken last night and I have been going great guns cleaning and getting things done. No more Malls for me.

Projects - I opened the end seams on two feather comforters. After shaking the feathers to the other end. One was not as full as I’d have liked and the other had a few holes in the cover. It was leaking.

So I opened the end seams about 12 inches. And sewed the two together so that the feathers from the leaking one could get into the other.

After a lot of fluffing, outside by the way, I got all the feathers into the good ticking. I sewed it closed again and tossed the holey cover away. Still sticky with feather detritus. Not worth trying to collect.

I also did a little fun knitting. I started a stained glass window throw. I got the info from a segment of the TV show ‘Knit and Crochet Now.’ The instructions were suppose to be free on the web, but I couldn’t get the download to work. I improvised and I like what I got. Long, knitted, colored, six sided shapes held together with black crochet. With a few squares in between and triangles on the ends and corners to fill it in and make the throw a rectangle in shape when finished.

And by the way, the shopping at the mall over the weekend was at Hot Topic. (First time there.) I found it a bit vanilla. I raided the Clearance rack. Got a few wrist cuff pretties and a gray tank top. Oh, and more then a few ideas for other projects.

On Under Cover of Mall:

I have been missing in action again. The humidity just got too much for me and I felt like I couldn’t breath.

I ran away to the Mall. Air-conditioning! Breathable air!

Now, I don’t generally do the mall. In fact I have only been there once since 9-11. And I was, in fact, at the mall when 9-11 happened. Or I should say when I heard about it early that morning.

Yes, I was at the mall before it officially opened for the day. I had a pick up, but that doesn’t matter. And the once in between, was to get my Doc Martian boots.

This time, I was chased by the high humidity into the ‘Shopping Mall’ just to breath. You just can’t spend the whole day in Kmart type stores without going mad. In the mall you can move around from place to place and still be inside.

Though it is an interesting place. Many sparklies and odd people to watch, it is not my kind of place, mainly because it has many sparklies and odd people inside.

I did not get to go there in my Gothic full Lady Euphoria Deathwatch mourning garb. Heck, I didn’t even have my black nail polish on, as it had been chipped away by myself in my nervousness at my lack of breathing capacity. And no makeup as it had been melting off my face at home. (No, I didn’t bring my makeup kit, I was thinking about breathing.)

I did wear black as that is what most of my clothing choices are. I felt naked and woefully under dressed. And so far as mall persons go, I was just one of the crowd. Not a comfortable situation for one such as me. I like the wide space around me that my look generally provides me.

Nor did I have my computer. I did by a book and read for a while, but I couldn’t give myself over to the book because I had to have an eye out for any who would take advantage of the situation. (Like grabbing my purse or packages.) Yes, I did it. I couldn’t resist some of the sparklies.

The night in between was hell. The heat and humidity seemed all the worse once I was away from it for a while. So I’m going to try not to go back. I do know more then ever, that I do not like shopping malls. Just not my kind of place.

Now, How scary would I be if Gothy me just showed up at the senior center for a breath of air today?

On A Bit Of Up and About:

Well today the weather was nicer. I went outside to get some air and exercise. It was still hot and a bit humid, but nothing like the last week. I walked around until the breeze died down and the bugs came out in droves.

It felt delicious. Nothing like being stuck some place for a few days, to make getting out in the yard feel like a vacation.

No knitting today. I made a chainmail necklace. I had bought a flat, out line tree, with bare branches in black metal and it came with a little tiny bird on a tiny chain, in the jewelry parts isle of the craft store a few weeks ago. I wanted to make a necklace with the bird to fly over the tree, but it took me a while to think of a way.

From (480) 7mm silver plated jump rings, I made a chainmail sheet, 4 x 6 1/ 2 inches or 10 x 16 cm coming to a point at the center bottom. I hung this from a large solid wire ring necklace at the top. Picture a tall rectangle with a triangle attached at the bottom made from chainmail.

I added the tree at about the bottom third mark and the bird on the chain at the upper third mark, but a little over to the right, making it look like the bird is coming in for a landing on the tree.

I really like how it turned out. I still can’t get my pictures out of my camera and onto this ‘Gladys’ computer. She just can’t handle it.

I can’t wait until I have a computer that can get pictures onto my blog again. Sorry about it. Until then, You’ll just have to take my word for it.

Enjoy your day.

On How Not to Scare the Kid:

A have been working on an idea for the baby. Some books about the baby’s family. (Both sides) Trying to keep memories of dead relatives alive and passed on without being morbid. Or ‘How to be Goth to a grandchild and not let your Goth show too much, so the parents don’t hide it away from the kid.’

Using 10 page/20 sided, 6 x 6 plastic pocket photo albums, I’m making picture books of the family, live and dead, with small child captions and info about the people in the family.

I put in colored card stock paper in the plastic pages and making it like a simple style, mini scrap book with the plastic keeping the pages safer from and for the kiddle.

And I’m hoping it will be a nice parent/child ‘read to me’ time for all of them.

Sorry for the grandma moment, there won’t be many, but the idea was too good for me not to pass it on. I’ll show you some pictures when I get it/them put together.

That is, when I’m up and around so I can work the printer and get it put together.

On Knitting Through the Hours:

Been a bit quite around here. I didn’t want to get into a ‘feeling so sorry for myself, stuck on my back in bed’ thing.

So when I felt it coming on yesterday, I kept my mouth shut. The rest of the day I listened to the storms roll on through.

And I knitted. One and half baby sweaters. Some rows on that bed throw that won’t get itself done. (Too large and time consuming to want to spend hour after hour at it.) Some rows on a baby blanket. Started another grownup size sweater. And made a pair of mittens.

Not bad for a two day slouch-a-bed. Back to feeling ‘life is good no matter where you are, because it could be worse.’
______________________________

Thanks for the get well wishes.

On To Laugh or Not to Laugh:

Some days you get the point across and others you don’t.

Today I write my blog while stuck on my back, because I put it out yesterday when my chair broke under me, throwing me to the floor. I laughed.

I laughed then and I laugh now. I laughed through my tears when the bug stung me yesterday.

I say this because I’ve been having a bit of a run of bad luck and laughing it off. But this has not been coming through in my blog writing.

I don’t know if my cup is half empty or half full at any given moment, but I do know that how I choose to react to the world around me either helps or hurts me.

So here I lay. Flat on my back. My stung foot up on a pillow. Looking over the frames of my glasses at a blurry world. And I choose to be having the time of my life.

I got a good bed to be stuck in, books to read, TV and movies to watch, snacks, knitting, dogs and a husband who loves me.

If I bitch and moan I repel others of whom I need to help me. But besides that, I only make myself more miserable. So why do it?

I choose to laugh at myself and my bad luck of the moment. Sorry I didn’t do a better job of letting you join me in the fun.

On You Thought What?:

Well, Obviously I wasn’t thinking at all.

I went out into the brown and dying lawn with a ball, the dogs, and my bare feet.

I thought to give them some exercise before it got too hot out for the day.

I guess that part of it was okay.

I policed the area for leavings and cleaned away any piles. Good thinking on my part. (Smiling to myself.)

Anyway, I’m watching the dogs and where the ball is going. Who’s turn it is to catch. But not the ground where I am stepping.

In no time at all I stepped on a stinging bug and my foot was all swollen by the time I could take the few steps into the house for my benadryl.

Back to knitting with my foot up for me.

I should just keep my gothy self inside and never try to see the light of day. I don’t like the sun on my skin anyway.

Now if I could only rig up a ball thrower that interacts with the dogs I’d be golden.

On A Musical Interlude:

Since I haven’t been able to play most of my video games, Rupert the computer still on the outs, I’ve been doing other things and listening to music.

Mostly writing stories while listening. I have been trying to exercise, walking, more than the heat wants to let my body move. You can’t really belly dance in high heat and humidity.

I got a few new CD’s. I’m still old enough to want a backup along with pictures and lyrics. No MP3 downloads for me. And it is not that I don’t enjoy YouTube because I do. But that leads to more sitting.

‘We Are the Fallen’, the group that used to be Evanescence before the split with Amy Lee, has a new lead singer, Carly Smithson, and a new album, ‘Tear the World Down.’

The group made a video for the first song ‘Bury Me Alive’ and I can’t get enough of it. I just love the thing. I of course had to run out and get the album for myself. I relive the video in my head as I listen, any number of times a day.

The song is about a friendship where one friend used the other for gain and killed the friendship, but the video takes another turn.

Here it is. I wonder what you think of it? If you click on the video twice it will take you to Youtube and you can see the making of the video on the same site.



Just for your information. I don’t put YouTube videos of music on my blog, if I haven’t invested in the group by buying their music.

On Eyes of the Beholder or Looker?:

I got my new eye glasses today. They are nice and stylish. Silver and black. But they do not fill the bill for me.

I like my glass to be more function then fashion. I like larger, not huge mind you, lenses so I can move my eyeballs to the thing I want to look at and not have to whip my head around all day.

Have you noticed that everyone with glasses are movement challenged now? They make herky-jerky head movements to see the things around them. The smaller frames have everyone with their noses in the air, so they can see what is in front of them.

Sorry, but I don’t want to look up your nose or have you look up mine.

The alternative is looking over the glasses and seeing you all blurry and out of focus. If I’m interested in talking with you, I’d like to see who I am talking to. But apparently I’m not supposed to see the expression on your face unless I show you my nose hairs or worse.

Before you say, ‘Try the web.’ I can’t get what I want at my eye doctors. And can’t afford another program. So I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

And I have the added trouble of having a small head. I wear kid sized glasses. Have you looked at the selection of frames on the kids rack? I’m a grown woman and you can’t make me wear tiny princess’s on shocking pink my frames.

This also adds to the smallness of the lenses I have to wear. My new glasses may be fashionable and trying to make me look all cool and hip…

But I feel like I’m getting a crook in my neck, and that the people around me think I’m stuck up or just clumsy. Because I’m either with my nose in the air to see clearly or looking over the frames at the world in a blur.

And don’t get me started at the amount of lenses area I get to look out of with my small glasses being bifocals.

I may get used to living with my new glasses, but I don’t have to like them. And if that makes me fussy so be it. I just want to see without whipping myself in the face with my ponytail every time I move.

On One Down, Two to Go:

I posted the short story I wrote called ‘The Good Girl’ over at my ‘Thrill or Shiver’ blog. And I am hoping for comments so that I can improve my writing skills. (And I do believe that there is always room for improvement in everyone.) No one is perfect.

If you have the time check it out and let me know what you think. You can’t hurt my feelings, because I’m aware that not all things appeal to all people. Still, I hope you enjoy it. My stories are meant to entertain.

I’m back to the writing of the other two stories. One at the ending stages and the other still at the beginnings.

On Hanging by a Muse:

I have been typing franticly away for days now. Coming up for air and food and a little sleep from time to time. Three stories alternately. Yes, I said working on three totally different stories at the same time.

One is the story that came to me the other day.

Two is a story that didn’t have an ending for, let me see… about seven years now. That is until some character in the story I was working on got to talking and gave me the idea, or I should say permission to use his story, for it‘s ending. (At least I had a hard copy and a disk of that one.)

Three is a story for my ‘Thrill or Shiver’ short story blog. As the others are not short stories and not for that venue. And, I have been neglecting it shamefully. (Most all my stories are on Rupert, the dead computer, at the moment and I had to start over with another short story. Until, I get a new computer and can move all my ‘works in progress.’)

It sounds a bit obsessive when I say it that way, but really it is more like; working hard at a job you love, playing hard at the tennis club, and then stopping to relax by working on a craft project.

Next to no knitting has been getting done. The house is getting buried in dust and laundry. I’m getting fatter with lack of exercise. But I’m having too much fun to stop right now.

Such is life, when one is willing to dance with a muse. If you don’t watch out, you are hanging by your toes in said muses web. At least I’m already dressed for a funeral, if it is for my own.

No, not that bad. Just having some fun, before I get back to work. This Muse shall pass and I’ll be back and boring once again.

But for now, I dance on a string.

On The Writing of a Story Today:

I spent yesterday in bed. I nursed an earache I gave myself by falling asleep with the fan blowing on my head all night.

I did have a stroke of story writing while stuck in bed and have been typing away at it all day today. So far I like my characters and they have a good set up. I’m moving into the second chapter, and have a good idea where it is going. I’m still not sure who will turn out to be the one to let my main character down and who will willingly or reluctantly save the day.

I like to leave that open and let the story evolve. I don’t like forcing a character into a less then good situation only because I have predestine them. I learn as much about my characters as everyone else when I’m writing them.

Like most of my stories, it all starts with a character that pops into the consciousness of my head and doesn‘t want to be brushed aside for other thoughts.

I watch them as they interact with other characters in there. And once an interesting conversation or situation gets going. I watch to see if a story starts to build around that. I pull in other characters to fill in information and complete the scenes. I help to nurture them as I place them in houses, terrain, neighborhoods, or situations as needed. I’m always asking questions of them, finding out things about them I didn‘t know before.

The information I need for the story I reveal, and the other bits I keep as secrets for another time or situation. Few things they say to me goes to waste. Like putting together a giant puzzle I pull out the pieces that fit best, matching the seams to reveal the picture. A picture I have yet to see clearly until it is done.

I’m enjoying the process, the discovery, and the new entertainment. I watch them play before me and write down the parts that work.

I may never get a book on a library shelf. But having fun writing stories is all I need right now.

I hope you can find such fun in your days too.

On Life After Death Continues Daily:

I do not grieve my son outwardly most of the time. Not even inwardly to myself.

Most days I’m okay with (In the sense that I’m used to it, now.) my son-less world. But the wishing it could be different hangs on.

Having a child comes with a lot of unimagined future promises. I’m still closing those doors. I find more open doors as I move along in my life. Some reopen and need to be locked shut all over again.

At first it was things like, ‘He won’t be here to love and love back.’ ‘How do I give him the gift I want to for his birthday?’ ‘What would he have thought about this, that, or the other thing?’ ‘Would he have enjoyed computer games as much as I think he would have?’

Then it shifted to things like, ‘How do I get to see him all grown-up and accomplished?’ ‘Where can the un-acquired daughter-in-law and grandkids come from?’ ‘Who will help take care of me when I’m too old to care for myself.’

What would his kids have looked like? Would any of them be like me? What kind of fun would we have had together? Would I have lived long enough to see great grandkids? Would I have gotten cancer had I not been through the trauma of his death? And with that better life could I have done more for others and myself?

I could go on for hours if I let myself. Which I don’t often do. It is not productive.

Mostly I only just let myself think of these things in short bursts. Like when I go and look at the tree he planted so long ago, when someone asks if I want grandkids, or if I have any grown kids.

I don’t reopen the scars or pick at the scabs. I don’t want the possible infection of heart ache or anger that often come with such activities. I don’t want my judgments clouded with such things. I chose the better thou harder course the day he died.

I decided to deal with it. Grow from it. Move on after it. Manage it. Incorporate it. Take it with me, but not let it burden me.

I am a mother who has a dead child. But like I was before he died, I am also so much more.

On Replacing Grief with Worth:

On Replacing Grief with Worth:

I’d like to thank everyone for their support yesterday. It meant a lot.

Whether one word or many, I felt the love. And in that, I did not feel so alone. Thank You
_____________________________________

I do carry the burden of being the sole holder of the memories from my son’s life before his sister was old enough to be part of the memories, now that his father is dead.

I tug at the shredded memories left to me after my cancer treatments. Piecing together the fragments of memories along with the pictures from those days. Birthdays, Holidays, First’s days, Any old days. When I am gone they will be gone with me. Just as now that his father is gone, so the memory pool has been diminished by his passing.

It is as it should be, I believe. No one wants all the bumps and mistakes in their life remembered. I need to accept the loss and move on to the day to day living of the life I have left.

There will be a grandchild this autumn that may jog a few memories for me. I will tell these tales with the others, passing them on in hopes that My son’s memory will never really die.

And I can hope that someday someone will say, ‘I’m related to that guy from Kevin’s Mittens, he was my uncle.’ And then I’ll know that I did my job of keeping my son’s memory alive thou I couldn’t do the same for his body.

The other part of the burden, is the fact that this burden is backwards. The children should be carrying the memory of the parents forward, for they are older and the next generation carries the torch. With my fewer remaining years I hold and foster the memories of the younger into the future.

I try, in my small way, to make his name known with Kevin‘s Mittens. So that he can be found when someone in the future goes looking for him in the family history. (The internet can and has been a huge help there.)

Now I must make plans for mitten making again. As soon as the weather breaks and yarn moves through my fingers instead of sticking to hot fingers. The hot weather will break and I’ll pick up my needles again. But right now I’ll be a mother remembering a little boy wanting a giant mitten.

And it will make me smile all over again.

On My Grief:

I don’t know if it is the fact that it was so unexpected, or that it was my child, but I had expected to find it a little easier by now.

My son was killed in a car accident on the evening of July sixth, eleven years ago.

He sat in the back seat of a car leaving an ice cream stand. They hadn’t gotten more then 200 feet when hit head on by a van. They were covered with uneaten ice cream and blood.

The driver survived because she had an air bag. And doctors worked on her for days to keep her alive. The front seat passenger and my son, seated behind the driver, died on impact.

He had a closed casket because his head was unrecognizable. He was twenty-five years old.

The terror filled nightmares have all but stopped. I haven’t gotten a mysterious coin in a while. I don’t break down weeping any longer at an unexpected song, turn of phrase, or look-a-like as I move about the world.

But a stinking hot day can still break me down.

We withered in the heat of a heat wave at our separate locations, as we talked briefly that day on the phone, about a TV program scheduled for that night. He stopped me as we closed to tell me, ‘that I Must Understand, that he Really Loved Me.’ Something he never did with costumers in earshot. It was all ‘Dido’ and ‘Yeah, same here’ when he was at work.

Having the time after work and before the program, he and some friends went for a swim at a local swimming hole, then stopped for ice cream on the way home.

I got a call a few hours later and didn’t get home from the hospital until almost five in the morning. I stood, in shock, doing yoga exercises to get centered before making the phone calls to tell his sister and the rest of the family that the sky had indeed fallen and that nothing would ever be the same in the world again.

Today it is stinking hot and I am reliving the worst day of my life and it doesn’t get any easier.

On Having Holiday Plans:

I made a few small plans for this Independence Day. I don’t go in for too much on the Fourth of July. It was the last time I really talked with my son before he died on the sixth. Bitter sweet time now for me.

But it’s been eleven years. I need to move on more than I had been about that day. I don’t do the fireworks. Haven’t for a very long time. Crowds and biting bugs you know.

We’ll did a picnic lunch and hung the flag out. I think maybe some sparklers in the evening. Catch some fireflies and call it a day. A good quiet way to celebrate.

The kids in town can shoot off fire crackers and enjoy the fireworks display. I’ll remember watching as a child. Dates on the fourth while in high school. Bring my own kids to the festivities. (My daughter was a bi-centennial baby and slept through the whole thing.)

I’ll be quiet and let it float on passed this year. Just get my toes wet so to speak.

Better then the years of crying or hiding in my room. It won’t bring him back, but it might make for some nice memories for the future.

Here’s to a good future for everyone around the world.

On Still Cool and Cleaning:

So, today I’m still getting things done, but not at the same pace. My arms are a bit slow because I over did yesterday. Don’t bounce back like I used to.

The cool breeze making its way through the house seems to be blowing the cobwebs out of my brain as well.

I want to start new bigger and better projects. Play in the woods. Sew and knit and craft nonstop.

I am sticking to cleaning for the most part. Tossing stuff from the closets and cabinets no longer in use for us. The thrift stores will pass the stuff on for me and keep the profits. Works for me.

I’m still missing my computer games, but will look on this as a vacation. I had to hook up my old CD player and haul the CD’s out to get some music back in the house. I like the one stop entertainment of my computer, but when the computer is on the blink everything is gone that way.

I’m watching DVD’s on the machine and TV again. Music on the CD player. And Gladys, the laptop, now has a cord out her butt because she can’t do wireless any longer. I needed a connection I could depend on.

I think just stop I’ll make a kite. The weather is just perfect for it and it is just what I need on a day like today.