I have stayed up late the last two nights knitting with friends. My mother taught me long ago, and when I tried to pearl as well she said "I think you should wait until I have more time to teach you." Well, we never did get around to that- but the muscle memory was there- and it was not difficult to get back into the swing of things. My mother would knitin the car, while wtching TV- which is probably why she could never remember the ending to mystery shows she'd watched before. Of course - she was like that with jokes too. She's get half way through a joke and forget the punch line. Not always - but often enough that it stands out in my memory.
December 2008 Archives
I realized that my last blog was a bit self centered. Of course, who wouldn't want to make claims to be like Stephanie? But I'll try to focus more on remembering my mother, and less on self glorification.
Monday's memorial was to have a pear for Breakfast. For a very long time, my ma would get a small plate, a proper cutting knife, usually the red handled knife, and slice a green Anjou pear. She occasionally mixed it up by having a yellow or red barlette or other varietals. The pear was usually consumed with a cup of tea, and a number of family members roaming the kitchen, dining room and bathroom as we prepared for the day.
On Sundays breakfast was accessorized by the newspaper, and the comics were shared and passed around the table.
These days I find I enjoy a sliced pear dipped in almond butter. I recently enjoyed a pear that my father picked for me- prepared in this fashion. I will always associate pears with my mother. Back in Virginia we had a market that sold local pears in the fall. I'm so glad I was able to share them with my mother. Virginia was my first real home away from home. Still, I was able to contact my mother on a whim, to ask about the water to rice ratio, about confusing cold symptoms and other things that only parents/family can answer correctly.
I am so ragged these days. Worn thin. But I have realized how so much of what my Mama embodied has been ingrained in my brain to the point that all this stuff on the calendar for honoring my mother's memory is stuff I do without thinking. It's almost like breathing. I painted a snail mail post card that should arrive at its destination soon.
Yesterday I made a pizza (added to a frozen pepperoni and sausage pizza) and put on jalapenos, onions, sharp cheddar and Romano. It reminded me of our Friday evening tradition of making pizza from scratch. I included my participation in that tradition on my application to work at Papa John's. I have no idea if it was a deciding factor - but I got the job...
I've also cooked a meal recently that was not only well rounded, but varied and balanced in color as well.
So- some day I'll get all my work done right away (insert sheepish grin here). In the mean time we are planning a 'snow picture walk' of the town- to take pictures at night of nearby churches and cool buildings while the snow falls.
I've added the Edith Piaf movie - La Vie En Rose to my netflix list.
I have gingersnaps in the cupboard for Tuesday- but they will pobably be enjoyed with tea all weekend long.
I remember when my sister Mara went off to college. My mother sent her fun little post cards. The one that stands out the most was shaped like an actually shaped like a snail in it's shell. It was awesome.
When I started as a teacher I got a really awesome letter from Ms. Frizzle and Liz (think the Magi School Bus Series). She sent me a pair of pants that teachers like the Frizz might wear when teaching about fish, and a fabulous letter with many phrases often found in the books. It was inspirational and charming.
