Sayings From My Mother

When I was a child my mother had an admonition for every situation and an explanation for every event. The problem is that most were not true. I don't know from where they came, but here are a few of the pearls of wisdom bestowed upon me time and time again as I grew up.

1: Don't drink out of the garden hose. There are spiders in there. (Well, this one may have been partially true)
2: When it is raining it is because the angels are crying because some children were bad. (Try walking around all day with this hanging over your head.)
3: Don't put your knive gangplank fashion from the table to your plate. Germs will walk up into your plate. (Come on, Mom. Really?)
4: When eating watermelon, don't swallow the seeds. Vines will grow out of your nose. (I bought this, and watermelon was a constant source of worry.)
5: In the same vein, don't swallow your gum. Your ribs will stick together.
6: The best helping hand is at the end of your own arm. (A gem of good advice. Way to go, Mom.)
7: Last, my all time faborite. Don't pick your belly button. You'll come untied and fly around the room like a balloon. (Not a pretty picture.)

If your Mom had a gem or two she laid on you, please share them with us.

I finished the knitting mouse pattern Three generations of mice are represented from grandmother to teenager. Pattern is available at KnitPicks as a download. Tell me what you think.

Perils of Childhood in the 30s

With all the discussion recently about childhood vaccinations, I started thinking about how it was when I was a child. No vaccinations, of course, other than smallpox. Having what were called childhood diseases was a rite of passage. Oh, we did have one form of immunization. Your friend came over to play and went home early because she didn't feel well. A few days later you came down with the measles or mumps or whatever was going around at the time. Your Mom called the school and informed them you were sick, and would be out a few days. The school nurse then came to your house and checked you out confirming you had the measels or whatever it was this time. She left your caregiver instructions on your care, and on her way out posted a large quarantine sign next to your front door. Of course, everyone coming and going had been through this routine in their own childhood so were immune. I don't think much attention was paid to those signs except perhaps by curious neighbors who now knew what was going on in your house.

You were sick for a few days during which you got special little treats. Then a few more days to fully recover, and voila! You were now immune to whatever it was. Parents were not even upset with the family who let their sick child come over. The general feeling was to let your child get "it" then it was over and one less thing to cause concern. No one, not even the family physician, knew at the time that these diseases could have serious side effects sometimes leaving the child with life long problems.

Every child did get the small pox vaccination. You went to your local Health Department on the day the shots were being given, stood in a line, got up to the nurse and stuck out your arm. Pretty much like the flu shots of today. You got a slight swelling at the site of the shot and were left with a little round scar. Every person of my generation and several generations to follow can show you exactly where they got their smallpox vaccination. Our daughter who was born in 1962 was a member of the last generation to get a smallpox vaccination. The disease had been eradicated.

Injury was not uncommon. We did not have TV so spent our time outside running around and playing. This was during the depression so few families had the money to rush a child to the doctor for simple cuts and scrapes. Oh. a broken bone warranted a trip to the emergency room as well as an injury causing massive bleeding. Other than that, every family had a large bottle of iodine on the bathroom shelf. This was the standard for all cuts and scrapes. Vaseline or even butter was put on burns. No antibiotic ointments to prevent infection and certainly no tetnus shot. Those things are great, and I wouldn't want to give them up, but it is amazing the curative powers of a funny face when your mother draws it on your cut with iodine.

Patterns Online

Well, the patterns are now on Knit Picks. You can find the hand puppets pictured here. The patterns can be downloaded from the site and are very reasonable. Let me know what you think. Working on knitting mice at the moment. Lots of fun and they too will be available soon.

New Project

Just wanted to let you all know I will soon have patterns for download on Knit Picks, the on line yarn shop. I have been reworking a couple of patterns in Knit Picks yarns for them and am currently designing a new pattern for knitting mice. I will let you know when the patterns are available. Just wanted to let you know why I haven't been posting any stories recently. Here is a picture of one of the patterns that will be available soon.

Family Knitting

One of our granddaughters is married and living in Florida. Now while one usually thinks of Florida as hot and humid, this year they have had some very cold weather so this granddaughter bought herself a pair of mittens. They are open at the palm to allow the fingers to be free if wanted. She informed me that while buying them she thought, "My grandma could make these." A call to arms! I just finished the mittens, and next week they are on their way to Florida. I resisted the temptation to embellish them with a pretty heart on the back as she is now twenty one. Here are the finished mitts.

I tried several internet patterns but thought them too bulky where the cap went over the fingers and joined the mitten. Came up with this design. It is an old one but available for free on the net. You can find the pattern here
The pattern only comes in one size, woman's. However, making the cap for the fingers is a simple technique, and one should be able to convert any mitten pattern of any size.

A Pie for FaFa

This is not a story about an historical event or even about knitting. It is a story about two people that loved and nurtured their grandchildren leaving them with lovely memories that guided them through life.

When I was about seven, my mother, my sister, and I went to live with our grandparents. All the grandchildren called our grandmother YiYi and our grandfather FaFa. Now of all the people I knew, FaFa was my favorite. He would take us for walks, and when my sister and I would hide in doorways and jump out at him, he always pretended to be scared. During the week he would pretend there was a story about us in the newspaper and read it to us, and on Sunday he would read us the funny papers. When he read books to us, he would always stop at the most exciting place, and no matter how much we begged we had to wait until the next evening to find out what happened.

YiYi was a quiet, little woman. She cooked and cleaned and made a nice home for us all. Her biggest claim to fame was her pie. Everyone that ate one said it was the best they had ever tasted. Every time YiYi made pie I wanted to help, but each time she said I was too little. Then one day my mother came home from shopping with a baking set for me. It had a little pie tin, little cake and muffin tins and a real wood rolling pin with red handles. Best of all YiYi said next time she made pie I could make one too.

I waited and waited. Every day I asked, “Are you going to make pie today, YiYi?” Every day she said, “Not today”. I began to think she had forgotten all about her promise. Then one morning she said, “Get your baking set, Yvonne. I am going to make pie today.” I ran to get my rolling pin and pie tin. YiYi explained they had to be washed first and I had to wash my hands. “My pie is going to be for FaFa”, I announced as I scrubbed. YiYi just smiled, and pinned a towel around my waist for an apron.

I watched as she made the pie crust. When she was done she gave me a little piece of the dough for my pie. I watched as she rolled out a big piece of dough. Roll, roll, and suddenly the dough had become an even, perfectly round circle. With one move it was in the pie pan. “Well, that certainly looks easy,” I thought, and I began to roll out my piece of dough. I rolled and rolled, but no matter how I tried it wasn’t even, and it certainly wasn’t round. Finally, just when I thought it looked about done, disaster! When I tried to put it in the pan it broke. YiYi told me not to worry, just scrunch it up and roll it out again. I wadded up all the dough, and I rolled and rolled, and then, very carefully, I tried to put it in the pie pan, and it broke again. I was getting very angry with that stupid piece of dough. I was about to give up, when on the umpteenth try; the crust went in the pan nice as can be. Success! I was a little worried, however. My crust didn’t look like YiYi’s. Hers was even, smooth and very white. My crust was lumpy, kind of stretchy and decidedly gray. Still,YiYi didn’t say anything so I supposed it was all right. We put in the apples dusted with cinnamon and sugar, then pats of butter. I got another little piece of dough for the top crust. Again, I tried and tried to make a nice smooth, round crust, but to no avail. That pie making business was not as easy as I had thought. When the pies were ready, YiYi put them in the oven. Soon the smell of apples and cinnamon filled the house. It seemed like a long time, but finally YiYi said the pies were done. She put them on a rack to cool. I kept going to the kitchen to admire the little pie I had made for FaFa. I thought it looked beautiful. Well, maybe it was a little crooked, but it wasn’t gray at all but a pretty golden brown. Steam came from the little hole in the top, and it smelled wonderful. I could hardly wait to surprise FaFa.

All through dinner I waited impatiently for everyone to finish. When it was time for dessert, YiYi bought out the little pie and put it in front of FaFa. “Ernest, (that was FaFa’s real name) Yvonne made this pie just for you”, she said. FaFa looked surprised. “You made this? Well, lets see if you are as good a pie maker as your grandmother”, and he took a bite. He chewed. He wrinkled his forehead. He said, ”mmmm” in kind of a questioning way. I was suddenly kind of scared. What if FaFa didn‘t like my pie? What if he thought it was the worst pie he ever had ever tasted? I leaned forward, holding my breath. He took another bite. He chewed some more. He nodded his head. He said, “mmmmm” again, and I waited and waited. After what seemed like a very long time, he looked up. “Effie“, he said, (Effie was my grandmother‘s real name) “you’d better watch out. Yvonne is going to be as good a pie maker as you are”. I took a deep breath and settled back in my chair with a grin, and I knew that I had the best grandfather in the whole world.

And oh, I did turn out to be a pretty good pie maker too.

Christmas Past

In 1942 the McCall pattern company came out with a mannequin doll. It came in a box with two patterns scaled down to doll size. In 1942 it was thought that every woman would, when married, be sewing for her family, and McCall wanted to be sure it was their patterns being used. Even so, it was a wonderful gift for those like myself who loved any kind of needlework.

I got my McCalls set on Christmas day of 1942 and immediately began planning all the good things I would make. My grandmother gave me some needles and thread, and after a shopping trip came home with a number of remnants from our local fabric store. I cut, I sewed, I fitted, I sewed some more. Soon I had the best dressed doll in town, but where was this every growing wardrobe to be stored? My grandfather came up with a cigar box. Oh, not your usual cigar box but a presentation box. It was beautiful, made of some kind of dark wood and lined with cedar. It stood on four little legs. It had a tiny gold hasp on the front so it could be latched

One day my grandmother asked why I didn't knit a sweater for my doll. She gave me some yarn and needles. With her help I began to knit. I am not sure how much I learned about knitting during this project, but I learned a lot about ripping out. Finally the sweater was done. If I remember correctly it rather overpoweed my doll as the yarn was too heavy. However, it fit, well at least I could get it on her. I ended making several caps, scarves, and a vest for my well dressed mannequin.

I did not take up knitting in earnest until years later, but the lessons learned so many years ago stayed with me.