Is it Monday already?

This month, I have been fighting off one infection after another. Every time I think, ok, I am clear of that one…a new one comes up…but…it’s all a process…so I do what I can. Between allergies and germs and other things…what can I say?

I talk about spoons here now and then, the number of spoons I have physically in a day for my own use.

Do you see the irony in the fact that … I actually had to go out and buy spoons, the kind you eat with, the other day?

I do not know what happens tot he spoons in this house. Forks, I have some idea…but they don’t go missing as often. When a fork’s tines get bent, I have zero issues tossing them in the recycling. I will not eat with mangled cutlery. It’s a personal thing. If I won’t tolerate it at a restaurant, I surely will not tolerate it in my home.


Now, I admit, my two older kids go through periods where they like to bend spoons…not with their minds, but with their hands…and the reason given to the question of WHY?!?! is always … because I wanted to see what would happen…

Hard to argue that sort of logic, isn’t it?

Not really—they get told…don’t do that…over and over…

Eventually it happens again…it just does.

But, where do the spoons go?

It’s like the missing sock from the laundry—well, not here—that’s not a mystery…if the washer didn’t kill it and mangle it, then it simply ate it whole.

Spoons…I know they travel with bowls, most of the time…and they take journeys into bedrooms where they aren’t allowed to go, into the basement, outside (don’t ask me why—but I have seen it), into the living room…

I would think they mostly make it back to the sink…except…we also have a shortage of bowls…and not the “regular” adult bowls, the glass ones, in the cabinet. Oh no. The smaller toddler-friendly and the only thing the youngest child is allowed to touch and since he is the only one who has any real reason to use those tiny bowl it shouldn’t be an issue—and yet—somehow–it is – because he is not the only one who touches them…those too have been vanishing … to the point of near extinction around here…but we have other plastic bowls that seem to always reappear, so the need for more bowls is not yet as urgent as the need for replacement spoons…

I found myself wanting to run the dishwasher three and four times a day, when the machine wasn’t even half full, or even marginally full, just to have spoons…

I pulled the silverware drawer apart…because there is a whole other ecosystem living in that drawer that no one seems to remember…I thought maybe the spoons had been lured over to that side…alas…it was not so…

So, since all I wanted were spoons, we went to the local thrift store, where silverware is six pieces for a dollar…and I spent three dollars, plus tax. I got six teaspoons…because I love my teaspoons…and they were nearly all gone…I moved into this house with twenty-four long-handled teaspoons…and when there were only four or five left…I got ticky. I got twelve regular spoons, the likes of which we use for stirring teas and coffees and who knows what else…for eating soups and cereals…although usually not at the same time…but on a bad day…it might happen…

Now…let’s see how long these last before I have to have another fit over the disappearances in this house…

And, yes, I do get that once we move from this house into another, better for us as a whole, house, I will probably end up with a thousand different spoons that will appear from the Ether just because they can…

For Your Inspiration Friday



We are the granddaughters of the witches they couldn’t burn.


And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.

John Steinbeck

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

Sylvia Plath

You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants a magical solution to their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic.

Alice In Wonderland

The most beautiful stories always start with wreckage.

Jack London

Once Upon A Time In The Morning…


I woke up this morning, unsure of where I was, again.

It’s been a long time, this self-imposed hermitage.

Silence can be staggering in its roar.

It takes me a few minutes to get moving, my body unwilling to leave the warmth of our nest under the layers of blankets. I struggle to sit up. I push myself to put my feet on the floor, wincing as the agony struck before any pressure is put upon them. It is what it is. It’s been this way for years. No one had any answers. I walked away.

One day, I know, something will shift and the pain will go away. When I pray about this situation, the answer always come to unbind my feet. Unbind my feet. I am still working on a way to do that in this lifetime where no strips of cloth bind my feet.

I stretch, wincing as the little pains and flares snark out bitter comments. Again, normal. I work slowly, twisting here, pushing there, pulling here, a careful dance my body and I have every so often throughout the day. There’s comes a point where I relax, take a few deep breaths, and shuffle forward.

I fill the kettle, settling it over the flame. I pull cups from the cupboard, two, then three. One cup for honey and lemon juice. One cup for chamomile tea with honey. One cup for honey and coconut oil and eventually for coffee. I keep a small jar of cold-brewed coffee in the door of the refrigerator. While waiting for the kettle to sing out that the water is ready, I pull out a glass and fill it with water. I drink two glasses before the kettle whistles. I pour the boiled water into each cup, filling the first two completely and the final one only halfway.

I stir each cup in its turn, making sure honey and whatever else is well-melted and dispersed. Then I grab the cold coffee jar and finish filling the third cup, stirring that again to bring everything together in the cup.

I take the honeyed-lemon water cup and move outside to the porch, to my chair.

There I sit, the breeze puffing into my silvery hair. Birds call and twitter about. Squirrels chirp. Whatever else is there rustles under brush and above in trees. I stare out at the mountains. Trees overwhelm my vision. I do not seek to see the leaves. I allow the greens to wash over my heart, to open me to this new day.

I take my time. I have no schedule. I do what I do as it feels good to me.

I will drink this lemon water. I will drink my chamomile tea the same way. I will drink my coffee as it suits me, perhaps with a bit of just baked yesterday fresh bread with butter rubbed all over its surface.

This is not a meditation. This is simply a recognizing of myself, the day, my surroundings. I allow thoughts to come and go. I do not listen. I breathe, calm, focused, present. This is living. This is life. I embrace this.

After a bit of food, my coffee is all gone. Now it is time to get to work.

Someone Else…


Once upon a time…I was someone else…

Now, I don’t remember who that was.

I don’t think that it matters.

There is this path, foot-worn dirt, before me.

I can choose to go back,

To search for that person

That once I was…

Or I could choose to stay put,

Settle here,

Squat down in the dust,

And watch the clouds pass me by…

Or I could pick myself up and scatter what remains of my breakfast.

These hard biscuits, dipped in honeyed water,

Leaving them to feed the birds who sing over my shoulder

From the tree in whose shadow I recline yet.

I can decide to go forward,

Into the unknown,

Just to see what it there.

Just to see who I become.

I think I prefer that choice

Over all the rest.

So long.

One Grain Down…



Hmm…it was rather difficult to get a decent picture of the actual shawl…

The pattern is a free one from Tin Can Knits (I LOVE them).

The pattern is called Grain.

Well…a bit more of the grain shawl

A post shared by Tabitha Beck (@theknittingjourneyman) on

I used the yarn I had been working my own Einstein Coat up with for so long…

How long ago did I start this shawl?  I’m not sure.  I only have a project listed in my ravelry profile for the first one I started, using thin fuzzy yarn.  This one I am still working on…I have a bit to go yet…but I like it.

This one here, the grey one, is done in bulky grey heathered wool, on, I think, size 13 US needles.

I think this will be the best pic of the shawl….sheesh

A post shared by Tabitha Beck (@theknittingjourneyman) on

Last night I decided to work on it.  I had used up nearly all the Einstein coat yarn…and I decided I was going to finish off that yarn and see how much was leftover.  The last three, maybe four rows were not in the original EC…and that works for me.  I do believe there is enough yarn left in this skein to work up a simple hat–before winter gets here.

I finished up knitting, cursed Netflix for making such engrossing shows available, especially when the boy fell asleep on the couch and I wasn’t moving until I finished my shawl.

I love how this turned out.  I love how the smaller one is turning out.  This pattern is so simple, yet so lovely when finished.

Having used bulky yarn to make this thing, it was interesting to work it up on a 60 inch cable and not have any room leftover…and then cast off and have this long string of cable just sitting there, looking so bereft.

And now…off to do more knitting…or maybe chase the young boy a bit and then fight the cats off to knit…


For Your Inspiration Friday



It always seems impossible until it’s done.

Nelson Mandela


I know that by simply sticking with a process and being open to the unexpected, I create a channel to creative inspiration and that’s a mighty powerful thing.

Jennifer lee


Never think that you are worthless.  God has paid an enormous amount for you, and the gifts keep arriving.



Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.

Vincent Van Gogh


Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight:  always try to be a little kinder than is necessary?

JM Barrie