Unraveling

Talkin' Turkey

For more than thirty years we have traveled to Fresno, and this year Thanksgiving came to our house for the first time EVER. It was all one generation at our table. Of course, we missed the kids - those who are thousands of miles away (you know who you are!), and those who are closer but stayed home sick (thank you!). And we missed seeing Mr. Celia's mom. But we enjoyed each other's company, we ate a fine meal (if I do say so myself), and Mr. Celia and I so appreciated being at home.

I discovered two things this Thanksgiving: 1) Winesap apples are not only good looking, they make the BEST pie, and 2) the apple peeler works really well on potatoes:

What a thumbsaver!

This long weekend we have been catching our breath, enjoying leftovers (wow! Leftovers!), and NOT DRIVING. I walked down to Lacis yesterday to look for, well, lace, and I was invited into the museum to view the Bobbin Lace exhibit. What a sublime diversion.

Now the house is filled with the aroma of turkey stock cooking on the stove, and there's one last piece of pumpkin pie with my name on it.

I hope you all had as nice a holiday as we did.

Rug Mania

Good question, Pamela! Yes, it will take more than one old sweater to make a rug. Conveniently, I am in the middle of a wardrobe purge. I have a basket full of well-worn items.  Also, single event items - t-shirts from the blood bank, Breast cancer walk,  Huey Lewis concert, 25th high school reunion (next year: 40 years!) - and stuff I just no longer like.

I am cutting out the sentimental bits and saving them for a future quilt.

 

The rest  goes to throw rugs.  I've been experimenting with color for different rooms, and am keeping track of how many sweaters/shirts I'm using.

12.5 x 12.5 inches = 6 t-shirts

8.5 x 9 inches = 2 t-shirts, .75 turtleneck

How big a rug will this pile of red make?

Time will tell.

The process is a bit unwieldy and must be done in small spurts. My shoulders, arms, and hands are getting a real workout. I have acupuncturist-prescribed stretches for the painful left thumb, am  "liberating" my shoulders through several yoga postures,  and yes, Pamela, I'm throwing, but with the right hand.  It's all I can do to just hold these fat needles with my left hand.

Cutting Up

A well-worn sweater is undergoing re-purposing.

 

 

It's going to be a nice rug but, OW! This project makes my thumb hurt.

I'm off to get the ice pack.

Party Hearty

There is an annual Halloween street party that takes place several blocks uphill from my house.  Sometimes we feel like we're sloppy seconds as gangs of trick-or-treaters bypass our house for the more glamorous above College Ave. venue. But we had plenty of kids in costume and ran out of candy at an appropriate time.

As we were closing the house down and preparing for bed, we heard a commotion outside. Quite a commotion it was! Mr. Celia went out to investigate. The street party was closing down, too. About 150 teenagers-with-nowhere-to-go congregated in our intersection and cross street, stopping traffic, bouncing on cars, and looking for mischief. Mr. Celia wisely called the cops as the crowd swelled to 250 then 350. I grabbed the camera.

 Luckily, it was a good-natured crowd and young enough (or maybe it was early enough) to not be a bunch of rowdy drunks. The cops were polite but persistent, "The party's over - keep moving." and "You wouldn't do that to your mom's car."

But it took a while to get the crowd moving. After all, it was Saturday night - and early (9 p.m.)! These kids wanted something to do.

No arrests, no damage, no big incidents. Just a big crowd of aimless celebrants looking for a Halloween to Remember. I have to admit, though, it did make me nervous to see them congregated across the street right next to my little red car.

Party Hearty, kids. Just not in my street...