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Category: Family

My Knitting Roots…

Posted on August 27, 2025 by Jo Anne

I can spend hours knitting.  Really, who can’t?  But how did I get here?

My first introduction to knitting happened at the Waldorf School of Garden City.

Having grown up in a small one-square-mile town on Long Island, leaving the comfort of district public school kindergarten for the private education of a small Steiner-based education while not a cheap step for my parents, was a terrifying step for me.  You see, as a young child, I was very shy (you’d never guess that now!).  So entering a classroom of students, most of whom had been together for the past two years of nursery and kindergarten, left me feeling very much on the outside.  Waldorf education is incredibly unique. I won’t go into it now, but basically, it consisted of a main lesson, some French and German immersion fun, some handwork, some woodshop, some physical activity (eurythmy) and some music.  My love of mythology is deeply rooted in the main lesson – I think – in fourth grade.

Handwork is a subject that is not taught anywhere else – that I am aware of.  In first grade, I began to learn to knit. Before we did anything with fiber, we created our own knitting needles.  I honestly don’t remember quite how we started, but I suspect we were given wooden dowels of the correct diameter for whatever project we were going to make.  We sanded down the ends to points. We added wooden beads to the other end (I chose red – distinctly remember that).  Then we varnished (or maybe we varnished first and then added the beads).  Once we had our knitting needles, we learned how to cast on.  Now, my memory is pretty good, and I can’t believe that they would have taught this cast on to first-grade students, but I could swear it was a knitted cast on.  I was five years old.

I continued to knit (and crochet – learned in second grade) through fourth grade.  I remember, when I was in first grade, my brother was in fifth, and he was knitting with *gasp* FIVE needles.  I was looking forward to learning THAT technique because it both fascinated and terrified me.

In the summer between fourth and fifth grade, my father, a very successful life insurance and financial estate planning attorney, suffered a heart attack.  We were all incredibly lucky, as this cardiac event did not take his life, but I could not remain at The Waldorf School.  I was so unhappy with this decision.  My sister was able to stay – she had only two more years of high school, so it only made sense.  My brother, he would try a new private school as a freshman.  Tuition was a little lower as it was a Catholic school.  And I…I got to go to the local public school for two years before starting what was then called “junior high.”  I won’t say much about my public school experience.  That is totally a story for another day…maybe another blog post.

Needless to say,  my knitting just about stopped, except…my grandmother, my maternal grandmother, used to come stay with us every Friday night.  She would bring her knitting, and we would watch Dallas and Falcon Crest together.  Sometimes I would knit with her.  Sometimes I wouldn’t.  But it certainly kept my interest.  She had five children (my mother was the oldest) and what she made for one, she made for all.  I remember her making bedspreads, and throw pillows for each of there bedrooms.  I honestly can’t remember how long it took her to do it, but I can say that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a year for all five sets.  Five afghans.  And five matching pillows.

Occasionally, she would need more yarn.  And I loved those days.  From an early age I loved the mall – and this was a yarn shop at the mall.  I know I was a lot smaller then, but I swear, it was a huge yarn store, called Hanan Yarns.  This was back in the days before malls REALLY became the place to be, and this yarn shop was part of the off-shoot corridor with other shops that most people didn’t visit.  What I loved about this yarn shop was the colors.  So many colors.  At 10, I couldn’t tell you if it was wool, or acrylic.  Did I care?  NO!  It was just so much fun to go.

At any rate, it became a thing for us to be knitting on Friday nights, until I was old enough that Friday nights were spent roaming my small town on foot with my small group of friends.  I didn’t really produce anything.  But every Friday, my grandmother would share her needles and her yarn and I’d start a square or a rectangle or something.  In hindsight, she likely pulled it out every week and just handed me back the same yarn the next week.  I wouldn’t blame her.  I wasn’t committed enough to actually choose something to make.

When the Friday nights with Nanny stopped, so did my knitting.  This is maybe a 4 or 5 year break.  I can’t remember exactly.  And it didn’t matter.  My favorite sweater was from Gap.  It was this dark green, but imagine the shine of emerald on it as well, long sleeved, turtle neck sweater.  I wore it everywhere.  And somewhere around my third year, the elbows started wearing through.  But as with all fashion, something purchased years before was no longer available.  So I said to myself, “Self, you know how to knit…why don’t you just make one!??”

So on a day where my class schedule was light, I looked up yarn shops in the yellow pages (yes, I said ‘yellow pages.’  IYKYK).  To my delight, there was a shop not far, just a subway ride away.  So I hopped on the subway, and found my way to the yarn shop.  Wearing my green sweater with the elbows wearing through – because I wanted to remake that sweater and I needed the example with me.

We didn’t find a pattern for the exact sweater.  Nor could we find yarn that was an exact match.  But we found a pattern, yarn that was a passable color match, and she guided me to a “Learn to Knit” book by Leisure Arts.  When I had mentioned that I hadn’t been knitting in (and this is a guess) 6-ish years, AND that I didn’t really have any advanced knitting skills, we thought this book would be a good place to start.

Did I ever finish that sweater?  No, I absolutely did not.  I don’t think I have the yarn or the pattern anymore either – lost in some move somewhere along the way.  But since then, I have seen sweaters that have more similarities to my memory of that favorite sweater, and will someday recreate it.

Regardless, I’ve been starting projects ever since.  (Did you notice I said “starting” and not necessarily “knitting” or “finishing?”) My finished projects came after I started having kids.  I’ve knit sweaters and ponchos, and hats.  I love making hats, because they are reasonable quick, and you don’t have to make two.  At this point I have finished many projects.  Projects I love and projects I hate – and subsequently rip out.  There are also projects I just forget about and find years later!

How did you get started?  Did you have a friend or family member with whom you’d knit on the regular? What projects do you love to make?

 

All the things I want to do

Posted on January 13, 2016January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

Seasons Greetings From BostonWhat do I want to do this year?

  • I want to read at least 14 new books (this would include books I’ve started in the past, but was never able to finish).
  • I want to eat a little healthier
  • I want to get out of debt (I won’t count the mortgage and the car payments as part of this because they are a cost of living, but if I can get out of credit card debt?  woohoo!)
  • I want to see friends more, worry about chores less
  • I want to stop saying, “I think I can…” and start saying, “I know I can!”
  • I want to finish at least 3 knitting/sewing projects (two are already under way)

I share this information, not so much for accountability, but for a record that at one point this year, I was feeling quite optimistic.

Just before the Christmas Holiday, I was able to go into the city to meet with some Sisters I haven’t seen in a while.  (Yeah!  I’m talkin’ about you LG!!) When I say “a while” I’m talking like, 20 or more years.  (ok, ok, so we saw each other at the 20th anniversary of our chapter’s founding…and sure, I saw Heather just a few months ago!) Anyway, it was so much fun to catch up, and share what we’ve been doing with our lives.  Upon learning about my culinary experiences, LG asked what I was serving over the holidays – because, well, food is fun.  Fish are friends, not food.

This was the food plan.

Christmas Eve

  • Lasagna – for all
  • Lobster Tails – for 4
  • Steak – for 3
  • Green beans with shallots and bacon
  • Caesar Salad with fresh baked croutons

Christmas Day

  • Brown-sugar Ham (I went with brown sugar over honey because the flavor, I think, is so much richer.
  • Maple-glazed carrots
  • Scalloped potatoes
  • Broccoli with Parmesan
  • Cranberry Salad with Mixed Greens, Walnuts and Goat Cheese – with a Balsamic Vinaigrette

I had additionally planned over the course of the two days to serve the following

  • Baked brie en croute with apricot preserves
  • Spinach and artichoke dip
  • Cheese and Crackers
  • Shrimp Cocktail

There would be a total of 7 of us for Christmas Eve, and those same 7 plus 1 would be dining on Christmas Day.

Lauren, I apologize that I don’t have pictures to share of meals.  The only things I didn’t serve are all of my appetizers.  I did make some Asian Meatballs, however, and I used Glutino gluten-free bread crumbs (because my niece eats gluten free!).  I never would have guessed that they were made with gluten-free bread crumbs.  They were delish.  However, my niece still couldn’t eat them, because they were made with soy sauce, which apparently has wheat in it.  Does anyone know if there is a decent gluten-free soy sauce out there?

How can you tell where you’re going, if you have no idea where you’ve been?

Posted on June 8, 2015January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

So every day I think of new lists, and creative ways to organize and clean.  Let me tell you something.  Each and every single one has merit.  And each and every single one is pure crap.

Growing up, my room was always neat and tidy.  This is because I had a mother who wouldn’t let me go hang out with my friends, until it was neat and tidy.  If that meant I didn’t go to the mall with my friends, it meant I didn’t go to the mall with my friends.  It wasn’t a “grounding” or a punishment of any kind.  It is just how life was.  And if there were other chores that needed doing, they were done before going off to find my friends as well.

The other thing that was different about back than – and we’re talking over 30 years ago – is that when I finished cleaning my room, or doing my chores, I could jump on my bike and ride to meet up with my friends wherever they were – as long as they weren’t at the movies or the mall.  And it was always easy.  Because we did things like pickup games of softball or soccer.  We played games like tag, or kick the can.  Or we went to hang out at the pizza parlor (yes, I called it a pizza parlor where I grew up, what’s it to ya?)  and then shop at the sticker store, or the candy store.

Today, I am so busy getting my kids to dance, gymnastics, soccer, and school, not to mention being involved in parent organizations related to these activities – plus not being able to say “no” to organizations the kids are no longer active in, that when I come home, the last thing I want to do is clean and tidy my home.  It certainly doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a clean and tidy home, it just means I am really, really tired.  And in the mornings, while I’d love to have the kids “do their chores” before going anywhere, they are so scheduled that it is impossible to enforce.  I’m driving one to an activity while the other is home.  I get home and I have to take the other some place.  There really is no rest for the weary.  

But I am determined.  I live in a small house…under 1100 square feet.  I have a husband, an almost 15-year old, a 13-year old and a 9-year old.  Those three are all girls.  We have a 13 -year old cat, and a 6-year old dog.  She is part husky, part golden, so she’s pretty big.  Oh, and did I mention, we have ONE bathroom?

So I have been reading “the life-changing magic of tidying up: the Japanese art of decluttering and organizing” by Marie Kondo.  This book was originally recommended by my mother, who would have purchased it for me, but didn’t want to offend me.  I ended up buying it myself.  I’m still reading it.

The way I know that I have it in my to be clean and tidied and yes, organized, is that I was.  Years ago.  It’s like gaining and losing weight.  Neither happens overnight, so the reverse cannot possibly happen overnight.  The same is true for being oranized and tidy.  It won’t happen overnight.  It is a process.  And everything you do is related.

Time.  Space.  Work. Life. You hear a lot about work-life balance.  I am in the process of finding and keeping it.  Right now, for me, work is making my home liveable; learning to manage my time and space.  I started with a planner.  About a year ago.  I’ll write more about that tomorrow.

My First Miracle Still Brings Me To Tears

Posted on April 25, 2015January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

Just about a year ago, my thirteen year old daughter came home from school to tell us that her Spanish teacher was hoping to put together an immersion Monteverdetrip to Costa Rica for the next year for 8th and 9th graders.  I thought to myself, what a great experience.  If we can afford it.  If she really wants to go.  If she’s selected as part of the group.  There were a lot of “Ifs,” but I wasn’t really worried about it.  Not in the spring.

Fast forward to October.  The “informational meeting” was scheduled, so we attended.  There were probably about 40 students there, with one or both parents.  The goal of this meeting was to provide preliminary information about the trip; enough information for families to determine if they wanted to participate in this trip, and to determine if they would be able to afford it.  The questions that cropped up at this meeting were very specific and somewhat tedious.  At the time, ebola was on the rise here in the States, and I wasn’t too worried about a lot of the things people were asking.  In hindsight, I should have been.  Not because any of the issues have come to fruition, but because maybe if I worried a little more then, I would be a little less worried now.  I don’t really think I would call it worry.

The months passed, and the trip got closer and closer.  My kid is usually about as laid back as her dad, and it is certainly something I love about both of them.  It helps keep me grounded about things I could otherwise be bent out of shape about.  About two weeks before take off, I started thinking about how I didn’t want her to go.  I had no rational reason for it.  The trip was paid for, in full.  I knew there was nothing that would compel me to keep her home.  I just didn’t want her to go.

After outfitting her with new hiking sneakers, moisture-wicking t-shirts and tanks, and various other sundries for traveling, we were ready to take her to the airport.  I knew I would miss her, and not just because I knew that she wouldn’t be here to play with her sister. But as I watched her go through security, I felt a lump rise in my throat.  I felt tears start to fill my eyes, but forced them back.  I knew my husband would think I was off my rocker.  I had been hearing lots of “she’ll be fine” and “what are you worried about?”

I spent the next forty-eight hours thinking about the “why.”  Why was I worried about her?  But I realized it wasn’t…isn’t worry.  My daughter is a good person.  For the last several years, I had made a conscious decision to be like the best role model I know – my father.  But while I struggle to be like him, she IS like him.  She never thinks badly of anyone, she is always willing to help, she is empathetic, and although sometimes grudgingly, she will play on the Xbox with her sister, read her a book, or play some other game with her.  No.  What I was feeling was just “missing her.”

It is only 9 days.  I knew she is in good hands.  She is with her best friend.  A best friend who had a phone set up for international use, and was willing to let her use it.  But I think what became most evident, is that she would come back a different person.  I wasn’t just missing her.  At airport security, I had said goodbye to my little girl.  Let’s be honest. When she comes back, she will be a little older and a little wiser.  But not too much.  No matter how much or how little she changes, that little girl who used to hold my hand crossing streets, the one who used to “lawyer up” on everything her father and I ever shared with her, the one who didn’t really know much outside the microcosm of our familial geography, she would not be coming back.  That made me a little sad.

Her teachers have been posting updates on a closed Facebook group.  These updates include pictures, some narrative, and some commentary.  I wonder how many other parents like myself are watching the group constantly for any update or picture.  What I find truly amazing, is that my daughter is out there, in a foreign country, doing things I couldn’t imagine.  She has hiked and zip lined through the cloud forest, she has been immersed in a Spanish-speaking home, she has been managing her own money.  She has been doing all of this without needing me.  We are on day six and she has only called twice.  It makes me happy that she is so independent.  It feels bittersweet that she doesn’t need me anymore.

This trip really is the first step to her getting out, and getting away, and growing up.

Gratitude Challenge: Day 4

Posted on September 15, 2014January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

“Write a short message of thanks for some of the “negative” things in your life.”

Dear Life-that-could-have-been-different,

Every day, I see and hear reminders of “what could have been.”

  • Music to remind me of the dream I used to hold on to
  • Signs of new technology and engineering that could have been developed by me
  • Pounds that might not have been gained

And every day, I get hugs and kisses good night from all the wonderful things that “are” as a result of passing on “what could have been.”

  • My family, all of them love music almost as much as I do. One dances to it, on competes gymnastics floor routines to it, and one, along with my husband, love it for the pure enjoyment of listening to it.
  • I get to enjoy all the technology…without the headaches of bringing it to market. And boy, do I love my gadgets.
  • I won’t blame my kids for the pounds. The baby weight has long since turned into ME, but I’m ok with that.  I am not vain, nor shallow. I like, no, love who I am.

So, Life-that-could-have-been-different, I’m sorry we’ve never met, but I have my Wonderful Life, and it is just that, a Wonderful Life. (Cue music)

Sincerely,

Me100'000 thank you

Time is always moving…

Posted on April 21, 2013January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

Nine days after Boston Marathon TragedyThis past week, time stood still for the City of Boston, and surrounding towns. Suburbia watched, glued to televisions, as police, SWAT, FBI, and heaven knows what other law enforcement teams, executed a manhunt not seen, ever. The sheer cost involved is a mind bender. While this went on, the populace of Eastern Mass was still. We went about our day, but if there was a radio playing, or a television on, we were, for the most part, just going through the motions. Our interest lay with the sound waves, and the video broadcasts. We learned about the hunted; their interests, their hobbies; who they went to school with, their citizenship status, where they were from. For most of us, this has been at the forefront of our minds. Catch the criminals.

For others, life moved forward. For one such family, life moved forward way too fast. Admittedly, I do not know the family personally, and perhaps that takes away my right to speak of them, but I will do so, without naming names, to protect their privacy and maintain their anonymity.

Imagine, if you will, a young boy, full of life. And imagine how, at the age of 6, he could be diagnosed with a horrible form of cancer. Now, a year later, he is home on hospice care, with his family and closest friends surrounding him. Sure, I’ve just summed up the mother’s worst nightmare in two sentences. But, I cannot even imagine what the family must be going through. I cannot even begin to describe the pain and emotion the family has felt during this experience. The decision to spend his final days in the comfort of his own home were made during the manhunt taking place in Boston.

So the real question is…for whom did time stand still? Was it for this family, who, while I’m sure will someday look back and think that they vaguely remember being around for the manhunt? Or was it speeding forward for them, far more quickly than they could want? Or was it still for the rest of us, who focused on whether it was martial law to shut down the city and surrounding towns (in an unprecedented move) to flush out the young man in question?

I don’t really have an answer to this question. But I think, I will pray for the family mentioned above, with all my heart. I will pray for peace to settle in the little boy’s soul, and for the parents and sibling(s) to find peace with the idea that God has decided to call this little boy home – a sentiment that can never, ever ease the pain of loss they are about to experience. And then, I will thank God the other young man has been caught – and pray he can be redeemed; that he can feel remorse.

If a seven year old boy doesn’t really get to choose when he goes, why should someone else get to choose when others go?

To school or not to school…

Posted on March 26, 2013January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

Pomp and CircumstanceThe other day, I went to lunch at a little market with the best salad bar.  I’m not usually a healthy eater, but I’m trying to eat healthier.  So when I’m in the mood to be healthy, this is one of the places I have a tendency to go.

As I was leaving, I was approached by a guy holding a video camera and a microphone from Fox 25.  I was asked to comment on the value of a college degree in today’s economy.  I was told I might be on the news that night between 6 and 7.  I was not.  (How thankful are all of you?  I looked like my normal every day run-down self, and in my attempts to be witty, I really was not!)

But the entire experience got me thinking.  I received a very-expensive-for-its-time degree in music.  I don’t do anything with it – although I’d love to be able to say I do.  If you asked me what my dream job would be, I wouldn’t have an answer for you.  I don’t claim to be so old that “I know better from life,” but I do think I’ve lived just long enough to know that my dream job wouldn’t be a job at all, but a means to an end.  That end would be spending time with my family; making memories for my children that they in turn will want to do for their children.

The point is, I’m of a mixed mind about the value of a college degree.  My husband does not have a college degree.  He is successful, and knowledgeable.  What he does required no degree, but a strong technical aptitude.  Certainly, what I do does not require a degree, but a strong grasp of soft skills, and speaking with people.  And  yet, I think a college degree leaves a great experience to pull from.  There is, of course, the value of life skills.  If you go away to college, you learn to balance a budget (although, I’m still working on honing this skill almost 20 years post-grad), do your own laundry (if your parents never had you do that at home), eating right by your own choices, how to use a credit card responsibly – and the consequences that come with irresponsibility.  Some of these skills you could learn by not going away to school.  And ideally, you *should* be learning them even if you don’t go to college at all.

But let’s face it.  Young people today are just not learning these skills without a bail-out.  Yes, I said bail-out.  They have parents who help them out of credit card messes, mom’s who are still willing to do their laundry and cook their dinner.  And even if the parents are trying to teach them the value of money by charging rent, it’s usually unrealistically low, and doesn’t include the cost of food – which the parents are also providing.  So I think the question is not today’s economy that might make the difference in the value of that education, but today’s society in general.

Do I want my kids to go to college?  Of course I do.  And, knowing what I do of their aspirations and ambitions, there is an education to be earned.  Culinary, veterinary, trade or otherwise.  I don’t think it matters.

 

Happy New Year

Posted on January 1, 2013January 24, 2025 by Jo Anne

Happy New Year ! 2013Once again, I find myself at the start of a new year, with a fresh blog. This time, it was my own stupidity, and as I’ve said several times in the past couple of months, back your shit up because it won’t be there one day if you don’t.

Fortunately, thanks to good friends, who like to spend some of their time helping out a friend such as myself, I have been able to recoup most, if not all of my old posts. And, over time, I will be recycling them to this incarnation of the blog.

For now, it will live as just “Notes” but as time goes on, I hope to find a more fitting title to my blog.

Let’s start the year off with resolutions. These are not something I usually hold. I don’t like setting them, and I don’t like being accountable to keep them. As my husband says about a good many things, “low expectations yields high rewards.” But setting goals, and then having low expectations is one thing. Not setting goals at all is another. People choose this time of year to set new goals and very often, they aren’t new at all. At least not in my case.

I hope for good health, good fitness. I hope for happiness. All things that are entirely within my control. But, in thinking back over the last year, and thinking about my father (as I do from time to time), I would like to be more like him. Generous spirit, good heart, helpful, and honest-to-goodness good man. There were a lot of things he frowned upon. A lot of things he tolerated. I know what they were. I want to be like him.

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