Book Project 2

Month: February

Book: "200 Crochet Blocks" by Jan Eaton

Experience: A little bit late, but better than never. My original goal was to complete a small blanket made from stash yarn and a few different blocks from this book. As I suppose should be expected (BEE BEE BEE BEE BEE), that didn't happen, but I did get the time to work several different blocks. I found the patterns to be well-written and easy to read. I loved the interesting color combination and patterns suggested by the book, covering a wide range from traditional to surprisingly modern looking. I found lots of projects I would love to tackle at some point when I have a little bit more free time.

Verdict: This one is a definite keeper.

My great-grandmother taught me to crochet when I was about eight years old. After I got the hang of making a basic chain, granny squares were the second thing I learned to make. For years, I made squares out of any little scraps of yarn I could get my hands on. My Barbies wore granny squares as ponchos and skirts. The beds in my Barbie house were covered in granny square blankets and topped with pillows made from granny squares folded in half. I made granny squares cat toys and granny square dog toys (not popular) but I have yet to complete a full-sized granny square blanket.

And I still haven't.

But one day, I will - and that's one reason I'm going to keep this book. Another reason this one is worth keeping is that I'm already looking forward to teaching Bee to crochet and I think granny squares are a great place to start. Once she gets the basics down, I think she'll really enjoy all the different variations in this book. I imagine us one day working on a blanket together, each adding our own squares to a giant pile and arguing over who has to weave in all those obnoxious ends.

I bet it will be me.

Next book: How to Write Funny

Book Project 1

Month: January

Book: "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg

Experience: As of the middle of the month, I'm just 30 pages in and have only written about four pages of my own. Part of that is laziness and part of it is a lack of time, lack of energy, lack of being-into-this. The book is well-written and I've found one or two ideas in it I can grab onto and a couple quotes I really like, but I've not found the couple writing exercises I've tackled to be particularly thought-provoking. This could be because I'm just starting out or it could be because my brain's just not into it right now - at this point, I'm still fairly confident that the blame lies more with me than with the book.

Part of it, also, could be that two months after the birth of a baby isn't the best time to tackle a project that most people agree benefits from being done for a set amount of time, at the same time each day. Bee's schedule varies far too much for me to do that - unless I want to get up REALLY early and try to write, but the problem then is my brain won't be ready - I am not a morning person and never have been. Late at night isn't really an option either as Bee is a light sleeper and seems to know when I'm not in the room.

* * *

And here we are at the end of the month. I confess I only made it about two thirds of the way through the book. For me, it started to seem very repetitive and focused far more on the author's personal philosophy and experiences rather than on writing and how to improve your own. As it went on, it started to feel more like a memoir that just happened to be centered on writing.

Verdict: Obviously this book appeals to many people as it's considered one of the best books for writers and often used in workshops, however it was a bit too emotional, abstract, and philosophical for my taste, so I'll be looking for a new home for my copy.

Next book: 200 Crochet Blocks

A shelf of books

And this is part two of "getting stuff done" this year. In general, I have no problem getting rid of things I don't use, with one exception - books. Shelves and boxes and stacks of books. Most I've read, several I've read repeatedly. Some I know I should read. Some someone else thought I should read. Several are completely mysteries - like strays, they appeared one day and made themselves at home.

When we were living in Virginia, Mr K and I used to go to the BIG BOOK STORE a couple times a month and find new books, typically art and craft related. We always planned to put these books to use, but what usually happened was a book would get read for a day or two and a technique might get tried out, but then the book would end up back on the shelf as we made another book store run. This pattern left us with a pretty big collection of books that are all in near-new condition. I know we need to unclutter, but it seems crazy to get rid of a book without knowing what's in it. The problem we run into is when you look at a whole shelf of these books, the size of the task kind of seems overwhelming.

On January 1, I went to the shelf and pulled down 12 under-utilized books. I plan to read and use one per month. After a month with the book, I'll decide if I want to keep the book or pass it along to someone who would get more use out of it than I will. My chosen books are a mix of writing instruction, crochet, sewing, lots of watercolor, and some drawing.

I know the whole pattern of buy-books-for-self-betterment-and-shelve-those-suckers-unread says a lot about something or the other, but I don't have time to get into that now. I have a book to read.

Pick a Card

We're not exactly lazy, no.. we just don't like leaving the house.

Also, maybe we're a little bit lazy.

Our first year and a half or so of living in Switzerland, we were out every weekend, seeing things and doing things and socializing with friends. We had originally signed on for a two-year stint here and we felt that we had to get the most out of every weekend before we had to leave. Around the 18 month point, we decided to stay for much much longer and Mr K transferred. The good thing about this was - obviously - that we were staying in Switzerland. The bad news was the lack of a departure deadline gave us all the excuse we needed to kick into lazy mode. Our outings slid back to once a month or so. We spent more time wandering around Fribourg and just relaxing at home. A few months later, Fetus Miss Bee made her first ultrasound appearance and laziness gave way to exhaustion, but with much the same result. We were rarely leaving our town, but when we did, we usually only traveled as far as Bern. Many naps were taken. Many DVDs were watched. Not much else was seen.

This was okay in the short-term, but with Bee's arrival and my starting to feel more like myself, Mr K wanted to make sure the laziness habit didn't stick for good. On January 1, he grabbed a spare deck of playing cards (you do NOT even want to know how many decks we have in our home - trust me) and a Sharpie and started making plans. Mr K reasoned that, once you remove the jokers, there are roughly the same number of playing cards in a deck as there are weeks in a year. On each card, he wrote one activity : invite friends over for lunch, spend the day reading, internet-free weekend, go someplace new, and many others. Sometime between Monday and Wednesday of each week, Mr K shuffles the cards and I draw one: that's our activity for the weekend. We draw the card early enough in the week to give us time to make plans, alert friends, and gather supplies. If a card is not seasonally or weather-ly appropriate, we are allowed to put it back in the deck and reshuffle. The only other acceptable excuses are sickness or baby-breakdown (we are realists, after all...)

We also got a big green album with just over 50 pages. For each activity, we will take at least one photograph to put in the album, along with the card and any relevant receipts, tickets, or other souvenirs. After a year, we should have a nearly empty deck of cards and a nearly full book of memories.

Our first three cards have been:

• Take a trip to Montreux
  
• Invite friends for lunch
• Read a book

All three have been completed, mostly successfully. The trip to Montreux was a bit baby-stressful, but we survived.

I can't wait to see what's in the cards for us next week...

Bee's Birth Story

Four weeks ago today, thing got more interesting. (Caution: Post contains bodily stuff.)

On Monday night, the eighth of November, as we were getting ready for bed, I was hit by a wave of emotion. Something told me that this was the last night I was going to be feeling little squirmy moves in my belly because the baby, who was due the day before, would be born the next day. I told Mr K, but he wasn't completely convinced as I had no symptoms of labor of any kind. We went to bed and had a pleasant and uneventful night of uninterrupted sleep.

I woke up around 9 in the morning the following day, a Tuesday. I let Mr K sleep in a little bit while I started my day. As I was walking into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea, I felt a small woosh. I stopped but didn't feel anything else, so I continued with the tea-making and then ran a bath. After another small woosh, I let Mr K know he might want to wake up and slowly start getting himself and his camera bag ready to go. I soaked for about 30 minutes as he got ready. Around 10:30 I did the thing I had been dreading the most: I called the hospital midwife and did my best, in French, to explain what was going on and get some guidance. She told me to grab my bag and head in for a “control.” At least, I thought she said to grab my bag, but I was so nervous, I wasn't completely sure, so I called a friend and had her call the hospital to make sure I understood everything. She was unable to get through on her first try, so we sat around the house and waited a few long minutes while she tried again. Soon enough, she called us back to say we had understood everything, so we grabbed our bags, I said goodbye to the kitties, and we headed out. I dropped off pre-written notes for our favorite neighbors to let them know we were hospital-bound.

On our way the the station, we realized it may be a while before our next meals, so we headed down to the grocery store to grab a couple sandwiches and cold drinks. We got to the bus stop and saw we had a few minutes before our bus arrived, so we popped into the station for a quick final pictures as a twosome in one of the photo booths. We caught our bus and I was still contraction-free, so the ride was uneventful. We arrived at the hospital around 11:30 and headed up to the third floor, where we checked in for our control. After just a short wait, we were shown back to an exam room staffed by a midwife (the same one who had taken my phone call) and a midwife-in-training. I laid on the table as they put the monitor for contractions and for the baby's heartbeat on my belly and we laid and watched the needles wiggle for the next 20 minutes – baby doing fine, zero contractions. The midwife sent Mr K down to get a card from admissions for me and for the baby and while he was gone, the midwife-in-training got to practice her needle work by getting my IV all set up and ready to go, should they need it later. I spent the next 36+ hours with that needle and the little gauze bracelet holding it in place. Once that was done, they got me back on my feet to head to my room, where lunch would be waiting for me.

I reached my room and settled in to eat. Lunch was a couple slices of roast beef in a brown gravy, a baked, stuffed tomato, some soup and some noodles – not bad at all for hospital food! I ate almost all of it, after offering to share with Mr K, who wasn't feeling much like eating. After I ate, the midwife suggested we go for a walk to pass the time and see if my contractions would start.

We headed up to the roof of the hospital around two in the afternoon. It was pretty cool outside at this point, but the fresh air felt good. The view was impressive – Fribourg in every direction. We could see Mr K's work building and our apartment building. We walked a few laps and I began to get some twinges in my back but nothing in my abdomen. Mr K thought they were contractions and suggested I start timing them, but I didn't think they were. We walked a bit more until I felt like I needed a break and then we headed back to my room so I could lay down for a few minutes before we tried walking some more. The back pain got worse and worse and I soon found myself climbing out of bed and leaning over when the pain came, with my legs and back straight and my chest and face pressed into the bed. I still didn't think the pain was contractions, though. Mr K finally called the midwife when I refused to and they brought the belly monitors back in to watch for another 20 minutes. The midwife checked me and I was about 4 cm dilated – it was around four in the afternoon at this point. The monitor showed a strong baby heartbeat still – as well as fairly strong contractions coming about 3 minutes apart. By this point I was soaked in sweat and a little bit shaky – I'm not sure why I still thought the pains weren't contractions... The midwife showed up and asked if I was okay to walk to the birthing room and I said I was, but about three steps later, as I was leaning against the wall, immobilized with pain, I realized walking wasn't an option and gratefully accepted the wheelchair she offered. The wheelchair ride itself is a complete blank in my memory.

When I opened my eyes, we had arrived at the birthing room (the one I had liked when I first saw it during our prenatal course) and the midwife was running a hot bath for me. All modesty gone, I stripped naked in the middle of the room and made a beeline for the bath. The midwife had added several oils to the water and it smelled amazing. Mr K handed me my apple juice, which I sipped as I soaked in the water. The contractions got worse and I spent nearly all my time with my eyes squeezed shut. The midwife showed Mr K how to grab my belly during the contractions and wiggle it gently from side to side – this really helped with the pain. I soaked in the tub for around an hour as we waited for the anesthetist to show up for my epidural. The midwife said there was an emergency somewhere but that he would arrive as soon as he could. After one particularly bad contraction, the midwife looked at me and asked if I had felt like I needed to push for that one – I did. She waited for the next break between contractions and had me get out of the tub. As I stood next to the tub, she got a bathrobe half on me before another one hit followed, immediately, by two more with almost no break between them. I clung to a rope hanging from the ceiling, trying to remember to breath as the midwife and Mr K dried me off. My memory blanked out again but the next thing I knew, I was laying in the bed, wondering how the pain could get worse. The midwife checked me again and found that, in less than 2 hours, I had gone from 4 cm to 9 cm and she got a little nervous. Typically, I think, that takes closer to five or more hours : this is why my pain was so bad.

About half an hour or so after I got out of the bath, the anesthetist arrived. It was such a relief to see him. He suggested Mr K go for a walk and have a smoke or something and come back in a few minutes as he got everything set up for my epidural. I rolled onto my side and got hit by another three really harsh and close together contractions. We waited for a break in the contractions, but none came, so the anesthetists quickly got the epidural in (around 6:15 pm) as I held as still as possible. He assured me I would feel better in a few minutes.

Around 7:30 I was feeling much better – the contractions still hurt, but not nearly as badly. The midwife came in to see if I was ready to push. I gave it a good try, but wasn't quite ready, so she told us they would be having their shift change soon and to just relax and breath for a bit before we would try again. At 8:30, the new doctor and new midwife showed up and we got ready to go again. The midwife instructed me wait for the next contraction to start and then to take a deep breath for a count of three, and then to hold my breath while pushing “like you need to use the bathroom.” I only had to wait about thirty seconds before the pain came again and I did what she said. About two seconds into my pushing, the midwife began chanting “Again again again,” so I exhaled quickly and inhaled again and got confused when she looked disappointed. After repeating this another couple times I realized she meant “keep pushing” when she said “again” so the next time I kept it up and she got even more excited. After a couple pushes, I was having a hard time telling if I was making any progress. The midwife asked if I would like to feel the baby's head and helped me to reach down to where just the top of it was visible. The minute I felt the baby's soft skin and wet hair, I completely lost it and burst into sobs. This was the moment that I finally finally finally realized we were about to have a baby – the whole pregnancy had felt unreal and it never completely hit me. My hysterical sobbing got Mr K going, so we both cried together for a minute. The midwife (who was maybe 5'3 and 120 pounds) told me to put my foot on her hip and to push as hard as I could for the next contraction. Though I was concerned I would knock her down, I listened and when the next contraction came, I dug in my toes and pushed as hard as I could. I felt a rush (but no pain) and the next thing I heard was the midwife saying “Take your baby take your baby” as the warm, wet, pink baby was placed on my belly, cord still attached. Hot towels appeared and the midwife began rubbing the baby down as she (though we didn't know yet whether she was a she or not) lay on my chest. “Breathe, baby, breathe.” she said as she dried the baby off. A split second later, a little cry came out of the baby and got louder. I finally asked if it was a girl or boy and we checked – girl! Bee arrived with a ton of bright blonde hair and lovely pink skin. She weighed 3570g (7lbs 14 oz) and 50.5cm (about 20 inches) long.

A bottle of bubbly water, some dinner, and a few stitches later, we were back in our room, blissful and ready to sleep. Happy four weeks, Baby Bee!

Loss

New Years Eve 2006
I made Texas Caviar because you insisted it wasn't possible to have a New Years without black eyed peas - for good luck. It was just a small party - I think there might have been six people. Hardly a party at all, but it felt special. I can't remember what else we ate, which is unusual for me. We all tried to go see Asharah dance. All of us squished into Chris's car, but when we arrived at the restaurant, it was packed and none of us had enough cash to get in. It was maybe 20 minutes until midnight. You and Chris decided you needed cigars or cloves or something festive to celebrate with. We went to the 7-11 and at this point, our memories diverge : I remember you getting cigarettes and smoking out the front door, but Chris remembers 7-11 being closed. Either way, we were all laughing at how high school it was to be driving around frantically trying to find cigarettes in the middle of the night.

We all went back to Chris's little house in Sterling. He and I didn't have cable, so we couldn't even watch a countdown. Chris wrote a shell script to make the computer that we had hooked up to the tv countdown for us, so we all stood around the white screen and watched the tiny numbers change until midnight. Then we played DDR for a few hours.

None of this was anything special, and yet it's one of those evenings that we refer back to fondly and frequently.

November 21 2009
This was the last time I saw you in person. Chris and I were back for a visit and got a small group together to go out to dinner. I was so excited you were able to join us. We went to Texas de Brazil in Fairfax. For some reason, I only took one picture that night. I'm kicking myself for not taking more pictures, not having more conversations, and not keeping in touch as well as I could have.

Thank you for looking out for me at work, for humoring me when I drug you away from your desk and made you eat in the cafeteria, for being my only reason to smile on some of the darker days in the office. I feel so fortunate we got to be friends and so, so sorry I didn't get to see you more often. I have so many more scattered memories, but I can't pull my head together so well right now.

I miss you.

Car, boat, car, pool

Home again, home again!

Saturday evening we arrived back in Switzerland from our holiday in Corsica and, though I was happy to come back to cool temperatures, I kind of miss the swimming pool!

The trip to Corsica was an adventure in itself - all 30+ hours of it! At midnight, we drug our luggage downstairs and tossed it in the already-packed trunk of our friends' car. We had quite a group for this trip - three husbands, three wives (two of us are six months pregnant), and two kids under two years old. As you might guess, that combination for a nine day vacation adds up to quite a bit of luggage. The four of us headed out to meet the rest of the gang outside of town and then our drive began. Fun fact - you can get gasoline here at all hours despite the fact the gas stations are unattended - you just pay by card. (Can you tell I haven't driven in a while?) We had a drive of about six hours to Savona, Italy where we would then load the cars and ourselves onto a large ferry boat. I had hoped to sleep in the car, but unfortunately the curvy mountain roads conspired against me and I was unable to sleep for most of the trip. Little did I know, this was only the beginning! (Spoiler: Wikipedia describes Corsica as "the most mountainous island in the Mediterranean.")

After the first couple hours of driving, we ended up on a more major road and I felt well enough to get a little bit of sleep. We arrived at the ferry right on time and took our place to wait for our boat. We sat outside, surrounded by tourists and cars, and watched the sun come up over the water. Soon, the ferry arrived and we hopped back in the car for the surprisingly orderly putting-of-the-cars-on-the-boat. Once parked, we climbed a couple staircases to get to the floor where two of our friends had been kind enough to reserve a comfy little cabin. We all had a little picnic and then took turns napping in the four bunk beds in the cabin. The six hours of the boat ride passed surprisingly quickly and I was feeling much better by the time we arrived in Corsica.

From where we left the ferry in Bastia to our hotel in Corte (I think), we had another couple hours to drive. I have never in my life seen roads like this - you know those luxury car commercials were you see cars smoothly tearing along deserted curvy mountain roads? Yeah, it was like that, except with lots of other cars (many in various states of destruction and disrepair, no doubt because of the roads) and about three times the curves. Oh, and fewer guard rails - as in none. Just steep hills, sharp turns, and sheep everywhere you looked. Now, I've never really had problems with car sickness much in the past and, even more surprising, I have had no nausea at all with the pregnancy, but this drive found me making up for lost sick-time and in a big way. I have never, ever felt so sick in a car in my life. We took our time on the drive, but nothing really made much of a difference. Eventually we arrived at our hotel, a mere 18 hours after leaving our apartment. Mr K and I both immediately collapsed in bed to rest for a bit and try to get our bellies in order.

After about an hour of rest, we got most of the gang together to grab some dinner at a nearby restaurant. By this point my tummy was calmed and starving - it had been a LONG time since our ten AM picnic on the boat. The weather was gorgeous - warm and breezy. At the restaurant, we took a table on the terrace, overlooking a wooded area complete with melodically babbling brook. Dinner was excellent - I had a pork filet in a rich herb and wine sauce with veggies and crisp bread. Mr K started with a green salad that I, of course, helped with and then had a grilled kebab of two different fresh-caught fish with saffron rice. At the beginning of the meal, we ordered the apple tart recommended by our waitress, who informed us it took around an hour to prepare. The tart turned out to be about the size of a dinner plate and we were very happy to have decided to share it. It was amazing - one of the best desserts I have ever had. With happy tummies, we returned to the hotel and were asleep by ten.

The next morning we woke up and grabbed breakfast from the hotel's buffet - a carb celebration of the sort you only find here. Tens of different breads and cakes and tarts, butter, cheese, yogurt. I still miss the typical American breakfast of ham and bacon and eggs and what-not, but this was still good. I worried that we would not be stopping for lunch (I was right) and so I ate way more than I normally would have and soon we were back in the cars, heading to Ajaccio, where our rental house was located.

Once more, we managed to get sick within about fifteen minutes of entering the car. At one point on the drive, we pulled over to the side of the road so one of the other couples with us could feed their kids and give them a chance to stretch their legs. I spread my large wrap out on the ground and Mr K and I laid in the shade and got our breath back. Soon, we were all back in the car with just another hour or so to go.

After a quick trip down the most terrifying paved hill I have ever seen in my life (you know how it looks when you crest a hill on a roller coaster, right before you drop, and you can see straight ahead but there's nothing there? This hill was like that) we arrived at the house and everyone instantly felt better. The owner met us at the gate and walked us in and we found surprise number one - glorious, glorious air-conditioning. We walked out the back door and saw the gardens and pool and everyone started oohing and aahing. This is the first time I have ever seen a rental house that was actually prettier than the pictures posted online - it was just perfect. The owner pointed to the field next door and introduced us to the neighbors, a sleepy group of sheep snoring in the grass. Surprise number two was the three-day-old lamb who poked his headed out from behind his mother to stare at us - too much cuteness!

Back in the house, we figured out who got which room and unloaded the cars. The two drivers then piled back in to go off in search of groceries while the rest of us pulled on our swimming suits and hit the pool as quickly as possible - and this was where Mr K and I spent most of the rest of the week.

And this is where I'll leave this post. In the next couple days, I'll post a bit more about what we saw, what we did, what we ate (of course) and how we got home. First, though, I need to get Mr K to put a couple pictures up. See you soon!