Thus complete, the Rockin' Red Dress, designed by Doris Chan, Crochet Goddess

Lakeside.

Loyal Followers know my hero worship of the crochet goddess, Doris Chan.  Here she served up a dress design in crochet magazine, Interweave of Fall 2012 that would put hairs on just about anybody's chest.  I mentioned it in a post earlier this summer, while I toiled away at the beginning stages of my Rockin' Red Dress, otherwise known as the Lt. Uhura Dress.  Some combination of delight, pride, relief and excitement for the next project is filling my heart as I look at a few of the photos we compiled during our recent trip to Ontario.   Here is a sampling of the growing organism that is a lovingly crafted handworked piece, as it travels far and wide.  The journey begins in old Oak Park, but my life here at home is just complicated enough that I didn't get far before shelving the work and waiting for quiet resort time. 

two months of on and off work, figuring out the quiver stitch.

First stop home on the coast.  We muddled through the early, and most complicated stages right here in Florence, Oregon.  There were quite a few points in which the ever resource-laden website, Ravelry, came in handy.  Those of you who are handworkers, if you haven't taken advantage of the gift that is Ravelry, check it out, ASAP.  This is such a terrifically designed site and a functional joy to use.  It's on Ravelry that I can find other like-minded aficionados who have toiled on the same design.

Finally. A perfect swatch. 

Mom & Dad's old Patio Chaiz Lounge.

Poolside, I crafted the base of the yoke/neckline.  One tiny misstep here, and we have a crooked dress down the line.  Not loyal to the beauty that is expected in this work.

The beginnings of collar/yoke.  Needs to be absolutely perfect.

By the time we join the yoke at the back I realize that I actually have the workings of a dress.  Up until this moment, I was sort of wondering.  But alas!  I've got it!!!! Ready to rock and roll, although the troubled times are not over.

Yoke Complete.  I'm exhausted.  What a puzzle.

Forming shoulders, sleeves, all with the seamless magic that is a Doris Chan design is an art form of rare beauty.  Traditional yarn-wear often involves pieces, as in fabric-formed garments, that must finally be assembled by stitchwork or sewing.  Not this, oh, no.  Last crochet stitch--dress complete!

Work.

Well.  It wouldn't be called the Unencumbered Woman if it didn't at least look effortless.  And of course, there are many many days when it feels just that.  Effortless.  Living a life with integrity, appreciating the beauty that is available to us, building something, creating something beautiful, and expressing love and appreciation and support for those people that surround us.

On to the torso, there's a matter of calculation and size.

And then we're back in the throes of midwestern living and Ironman training.  This quiet afternoon spot was one that I stole while on a visit/training ride in beautiful Madison, WI.  I walked around a neighborhood and found a quiet bench behind some fabulous homes.  Lake Monona is incredibly calming as a spot to sit and crochet.  I snuggled up past the two kids who were hawking lemonade and performed my typical no thanks nod as they pushed their wares upon me.  I know it's not always true, but today it was: "why is it the kids with the really huge brand new rehabbed house and the super expensive cars in the driveway with the killer view the ones making money off folks and lemonade?"  But that was the extent of my snark for that moment.  I figure, this is just the beginning for this neighborhood, and I'll be able to say that I saw it when....right before everybody started building really big, perfect houses crowded onto the narrow water-side lots.

Roman Candle Pizza, Madison, WI

Toronto, Ontario

Is it just obnoxious to say that I went from Madison to Toronto in less than a week? Perhaps, but that's how it goes, sometimes, and I'm thrilled for it. By the time I was climbing a giant web and hauling my crochet to the top, I was quite sure that I was practically done with the thing.  Counting necessary, and a bit of sizing work, but for the most part, I was in the homestretch.

The Well, neighborhood

And on to the country cabin in Ontario.  I do believe we stumbled upon the most beautiful place on earth.  I know that British Columbia brags about it on license plates, but that sort of over-hype just isn't necessary here.  Muskoka, Ontario, we all fell in love with you.  And here's a completed dress to prove it!

Lake-water blocking.

A morning on Pine Lake, such as this, just about does it.  Garment is dry, ready for a swim, and as loyal follower can see, I've accumulated some particularly nice CAN bling.  Yes!

Quiver aflutter.

And about the Birkenstocks.  Love my Birkenstocks, and I couldn't go anywhere in Ontario without seeing oodles of folks walking around in Birkenstocks!  Yes!!! I fit right in!!!
Yup. That's a dog.  Spent a delightful week with the two most amazing border collies that one might imagine.  Running with these two put me to shame, and reminded me why we have not right now the time or the inclination to go this route. What a lot of work, and what a lot of running these pups need to do!  Beautiful, smart, athletic.  A dream companion, of course.

Tyco

Photo session courtesy of Peter.  A trooper, indeed, and he hasn't lost his touch.  Sometimes we're so busy that he's not around when we're shooting for the blog.  It was truly a family vacation, screen-free, that we needed desperately.

Finished!

If, LF, you think that the hat is the only CAN bling that I picked up on this trip, you are undoubtedly wrong.  There's more, oh, so much more, but the bling that matters most is what we hold near and dear to our heart, and when you start with a vision in the dark of winter and a skein of Soy Silk yarn, the sky's the limit baby. The sky's the limit.

Happy! Proud!

http://dorischancrochet.com

A Few Days of Leisure, Mother and young Daughter...

First stop, caffeine. Obviously.



Hours and hours at/in the pool. Obviously.





A late afternoon stroll to the river beach. Our lovely Siuslaw. 



Picture time.

More picture. 

The River.

What? I think I'm hearing something...it's important, for sure!

No. Here's how you do it. Stop listening, and give it some lip!

Complete surrender.

Real Country Music

Mr. Jukebox, Ernest Tubb. This one really grabbed me this morning, courtesy of Jivin' Johnny Etheredge on KRVM. Lines such as:

The jukebox just told my life story 
told it in the words of a song
So I'll have another drink to the jukebox and one to the man that wrote the song

So here Mr Jukebox please take my last dime
Tell me the story of my life one more time
Bring back the mem'ries of the past that was wrong
Here's another drink to you and the man who wrote the song
[ guitar ]
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/mr-jukebox-lyrics-ernest-tubb.html ]
So here Mr Jukebox please take my last dime
Tell me the story of my life one more time
Bring back the mem'ries of the past that was wrong
Here's my last drink to you then goodnight and so long





 
 Does it get any better? A crisp fall morning in suburbia. Martial Arts, swim workout, soccer, yarn workout, brunch for four, and gazing out the window at brilliant oranges and browns and a yellow maple that stuns the eyes. How do we keep our memories alive? How do we keep the memories of eternity alive? Nan says it's in the handwriting, others say fragrance. Music, obviously, is as evocative as it gets. Once, on a Saturday a few years ago I was driving around with Dad. I had the KRVM Country Clasic show on, and Dad, a long-time country-western listener/dancer, wondered aloud what in the world we were hearing. I answered, it's a show called "Country Classic", also known as "Country before it was cool". Dad chuckled, "I don't like real Country music!" I just had to laugh! What in the world could this ancient music have reminded him, of, after all? Wasn't he getting away from this stuff when he bucked the trend and went to college and joined a Fraternity, lived on side-walked streets for the rest of his days, watched TV, wore clean shirts and ties and read the newspaper every day?

March, 2012.

 The beauty of nostalgia, for folks like me, is that we buff it and spit on it and shine it 'til it looks just like the thing that we wish it would be and know that we'll never have to make it be. Fantasy, heck yeah! But today, OK, everyday, I'll take it!

Pie, Pie, Pie!!!!!Pie Time!!!!!

I may have mentioned a cooking fest during my recent visit to Oregon.  Well, we were so busy eating and cooking I forgot to mention the pumpkin pie I made using brother's CSA local organic pumpkin!

Pumpkin, plus maple syrup, cream, eggs, spice, flour, butter. YUM!

Neighbor Dolores receiving squash soup--pie tomorrow if we don't eat it all!

 Poor Dolores, she was offered pie after she praised the soup I made.  It was gone before I could say "fresh whipped cream!". And as you might imagine, LF, I raced back home to take care of business. Back and forth, we go! What an age of travel, really?  A gal might wear herself down, unless she's eating lots of great food! And eat she does!

My return to Oak Park was enhanced by the knowledge that I was carrying fresh picked huckleberries from the Oregon Coast.  It's not easy to gather enough of these little suckers to cook anything more than huckleberry pancakes, but I gave harvest time a good ninety minutes or so and with delightful results.  I was complaining, while picking, that our little community has been over-pruned to the extent that available berries are disappearing each season. But I wandered around our neighborhood, and sauntered onto the main road.  Berries were found. The tiny little things are about an eighth of the size of a medium blueberry, but if you're serious about your berries, you will not be disappointed, boy oh boy!!!!

The huckleberry pie--disappeared quickly.

The day after I returned home I was pretty wiped out.  Faced with difficult news about Dad, saying goodbye, the whole affair can really deplete a soul. So it was to bed for the better part of a day, "Bring me my coffee, please?!"  And so it went, until the family danced off for soccer match or the like and I was left to my own devices in the kitchen.  What time is it? Yes! It's Pie Time!
LF, you might wonder what the point is of baking a berry pie without opening it for photos, but holy moly, by the time we cut into the thing and broke out the camera, the baby was gone!
Yum. Yum. Yum.


But there's More!  Our share here in OP had delivered us a truckload of Yams. So, yes...you know it!
Sweet Potato Pie!!! This time we were so deep in the thralls of other-world-drama that we completely forgot the camera and just ate ate ate.  Pure pleasure. Breakfast, lunch, dinner.  Now it's Wednesday, and there's no pie to be found (except for the delightful quiche that a friend delivered last night).

*********************************************************************************

So the pie fortified us through a week of work, school, activities, and finally, acceptance of the news that after a few days of hospice Dad finally let go.  We're so relieved that he went as peacefully as possible.  And now, naturally, we prepare to go to Oregon again.  I took a few minutes at work to remember Dad to my students.  I shared a historic photo from his childhood, and a favorite book that we read together, Watty Piper's The Little Engine That Could.This was a delightful day at work.  Reading a book with such a simple message ("I think I can") over and over, well, I couldn't think of anything better to do to celebrate my Dad.

"I'm not very big," said the Little Blue Engine...

Dad's the one with the ears and the height

And there I go again!  Off on another trip, but not a minute too soon to catch about a million hugs, which are awesome.  More hugs! More hugs!!!

Fortified by extra hugs, smiles and sunshine readily available!!!

You probably wonder what the Unencumbered Woman does next. How can I top this?  Oh, shucks, I don't know. But tomorrow I drag my teenager and my pipsqueak cutie pie to jump onto a plane and do it all.  Celebrate? Commemorate? Breathe? Rest? Reunion? Drown in a heap of anxiety & sadness?
 It's all in the works, and there may even be a few huckleberries left on the roadside.  If so, we'll have to elbow a few black bears aside, with a wink and a nod...Dontcha remember the guy who used to pick berries on this bush?  He was about so-tall, and he had grey hair and glasses, and he'd come out and only pick the ripe ones...the ones that would be perfect for a jam that his wife would make or some pancakes his daughter would make, or just to throw some on vanilla ice cream. Remember? They're wild here, and there the best, richest, wildest tasting berries you'll find.

Yarn Goddess Stress Relief

So how was YOUR Spring Vacation?  Here we are, at Dad's little apartment.  The girls are reluctant to pose but as incredibly beautiful as always.  Dad is happy, healthy, well taken care of, and so delighted with all of the terrific company.  

 Here I am, in all my glory. Telling some sort of story to Peter or brother Scott, looking out the window at the lovely greenery that Dad sits and looks at out the window each day.

"Yeah...and then she said...and then he said....and i think..."

View.

Yarn, goddess yarn, what else is there for stress relief?