Violets

GG was known for having a green thumb. As a kid,I can remember wondering why a thumb would be green if you were good with plants. Shouldn't it be brown with dirt? GG was never afraid to get dirty and her plants were always green, and lush, especially the violets.

When I moved out and got my own apartment, GG started giving me plants. At first it started with potted plants. Then when she would visit me, she brought "starts" from her plants and we would get pots, and soil and she would teach me how to plant my own. In the beginning I was timid and lightly tapped the pots acting like the plants were so fragile and I was some kind of debutante that couldn't get my hands dirty. GG would have none of that, get in there and get your hands dirty.

--I now know the pleasure and therapeutic value of digging in the dirt. It connects us to the earth, reminds us that we are caretakers. For a woman, planting feels like we are helping to create life. I wonder if that's why GG had so many plants. Her yard was filled with dozens of different plant life.When I would visit we would always have to "tour the yard".

But this is about the indoor plants, the violets. From the first apartment I had, and dozens of times after that, GG gave me violets, and violet starts. And every time I killed them. They didn't just get brown, or slowly stop flowering, or even just give up and wilt. No, I was a violet murderer. If it was a start, the stem would get mushy and moldy. If it was a plant, the leaves fell off, still green. I loved them to death is what I thought. I tried ignoring them instead. Too much I guessed and they shriveled up and died. I became a violet, serial killer.

I could keep everything else alive and it would thrive. I bragged about how I had her green thumb. I kept the violet murders a secret, but she knew. she would replace each one and give me tips. "Keep it in filtered light." "They don't like to go to bed with their feet wet". "If a leaf breaks off, put it in water right away and it will take root". I did all of this, and violets died anyway. The leaves I put in water just rotted away...unable to face the death that they knew was coming if I planted them.

After GG died, the biggest violet from her house went to the Kroc Center. It is two separate plants in one pot with two different kinds of violets both purple. A year later it was given to me as I moved out of town. Oh the anxiety. I was so nervous. I kept it in my car for the trip across several states to my new home. It had to have a place with filtered light...in front of the patio door so that the light is filtered from the balcony. Have to water it once a week. Put it in the sink and "give it a good soak" every now and then...I thought back at all of the things GG told me. It's another reminder of her.

It's alive and very well.  I did it! I am doing it. Leaves have broken off and I have two new plants potted from them. They now have new tiny leaves coming up from the soil.

I give it a "good soak" every other week. Wonderboy talks to it. We call it GG. I'm doing it...violets are growing in my apartment. I am rehabilitated.

ORANGE Squares -- Update

I believe I have figured out a starting point. I tested out several color combinations and really like this one. The white tones down all of the other colors and creates a better base for the red that follows.

At first I tried red then white and it was too much confusion and chaos. That's the opposite of this project. I'm happy with the current results.

Not sure how that slappy orange is going to fit in but GG made it, so I have to work with it.

My process is that I work on it during the day, and set it out on the couch or the floor before I go to bed. In the morning, in the sunlight, I see if it's beautiful (if I do say so myself, and I will proclaim it out loud), or maybe just a little "off"(what I think to myself if I'm not delighted at it being the first thing I see when I wake), or another try again moment ("why did I think that would work?!" is the whispering voice in my head...no shouting about this one).

I think it's beautiful next to GG's violet.

ORANGE Squares

I'm still going through boxes from GG. I have several bags of unfinished projects. They are in different plastic bags from different stores. I suppose she was one of the first "environmentalists" but we won't go into that now....

Some of them scream "What was she thinking?"

There is no pattern in the bag, no instructions. Not even one of her favorite methods of documentation...an empty envelope from her mail, with some hints of what stitches to use written on the back.

 I take this as a challenge.

This project has an interesting square that stands up in the middle with lots of texture. I first want to find something to tone down the slap me in the face orange, and blend the rest of the colors.

I believe I have it figured out. 

I suppose I should figure out the square itself as well.  I've searched through the patterns I have from her and most of the scrap pieces of paper and backs of envelopes. I know that she often took other peoples projects and finished them. sometimes she would get paid. Oftentimes, they were projects from a loved one that had passed and the person would ask GG to fix it up so that they would have something to remember. Now I'm doing exactly that. Working alongside GG's hands. 

The squares smell like GG, and I know she liked this type of oddball grannies. Funny, she could probably be called an oddball granny. She would have been proud of that.

World Wide Knit in Public Day

This week was World Wide Knit in Public Day. I can imagine what GG would have to say about such a thing. She knit and she crocheted, in public, in private, in the car, on vacation, at her house, at my house, at anyone’s house. Why have a day? Make it a lifestyle!

She always had a bag, or two, with a project “on the needles”. Once, she pulled something out of her purse while talking to me at my apartment. It was always a casual move, picking up her needlework while still listening or talking. I never felt ignored or that she was bored with me. Sometimes, I didn’t notice WHEN she took out her knitting only that she was NOW knitting. It was what GG did…knit in public. You shared GG with her knitting, and that was ALL THE TIME. 

What some people didn’t know, was that it made her better at listening. I too always have a project for on the go. When I knit during a speech, sermon at church, or program, I realize that I am paying attention to the words and not others in the room, or the decor, or what’s out the window. My hands are busy, my mind is not. I’m in the moment. Wonderboy still reads to me while I knit (one of my favorite pastimes)and I better comprehend the story later BECAUSE I knit. If GG got out her knitting, she was paying attention. 

If you wanted to learn, she was more than happy to share her skill with you. It didn't matter how old you were, or if you had ever picked up a hook or needle before.

GG teaching Wonderboy

GG would have loved the gathering for Knit in Public day.  We were at the Hoover library in AL. It was 95 degrees outside and over 80 people were knitting in the cafe area inside. I taught beginning crochet. GG was there in spirit as both Wonderboy and I talked about her, used her tools, and caught ourselves using her words and phrases. The energy was encouraging. It was joyful, and respectful of every persons abilities. There was much to see and several showed the artfully wonderful projects they had “on the needles”. It was an atmosphere GG would have been delighted to be a part of.

Photos of WWKIP day

Dear GG

A very long time ago I gave GG a page-a-day calendar for Christmas. It was an inspirational, art type and page-a-day's were relatively new then. (yes, I DID say it was a very long time ago)  She loved the idea of it on her table next to breakfast and dinner.

GG did not waste anything and liked to give back more than anyone I have ever met. Being GG she took every page and wrote on the back of it. She included what she had done that day, what projects were on the needles, who she saw, gossip, and even what she ate. At the end of the week she put the entire weeks worth in the mail to me. She told me she wanted ME to see the quotes and pictures since I bought it. It became one of the greatest memories I could have of her.

Keeping in mind I would get to enjoy the calendar over the next year, I gave her more calendars each Holiday, then started to give her stamps and envelopes too. After Wonderboy was born, I was so glad to have a written account of her. (Of course I kept every page) She continued, even writing on notecards or post-its to The Boy. He started writing to her as well, even before he could write well.  I would have to write as he dictated. If she didn't get a letter I'd hear about it. The two of them made a card and colored it red. The "Red Card" stated that you include it with your letter to get a letter back. If you were not quick, she would get her weekly letter to you before you sent her one, and she'd have something to say about it.

We knew about all her neighbors, the family, and of course her knit group at the Kroc center. When she died, they found another "letter" to me on the table.

I miss her weekly letters.

Dear GG....
Friday June 3rd

It's been an eventful week for us. I'm working on more pieces for shops. I think I've found a good place for most of my things. I have 3 more shawls to block, and one on the needles. Of course there are socks. Socks are never-ending with a teen that's growing. Size 14 shoes are big socks to fill!!  I fill in with the "no brainers" at night and crochet flowers and long crochet "ribbons". If my brain is not too tired I make tiny animals.

I finished a cat pillow for a friend.

Wonderboy is making terrific things but not all needlework. He likes to crochet food. Imagine that! His favorite are psychedelic mushrooms. He's sold several.

He's really good at it. At Christmas we had food everywhere.  I know you would have laughed that loud, contagious laugh of yours at seeing pizza, carrots, and a strawberry on the tree next to your angels.

He's also drawing and writing songs. He's happy and healthy and i know that's really what you want to hear.

I miss you,
Beth Ann