So Much

Hmmm... I'm not sure where to begin.

I've been having a look at all the horrible pictures of the devastation in Newfoundland from hurricane Igor. It's just awful. And even though we hear the news coming from there we have no idea of what those poor people are going through.

My Grandfather Coles  (who I called Gangpop) lived in a house in Elliston, Nfld, all his married life. And when I came along, I thought of his house as my house. I never really grew up there, but I really grew up there. I know that sounds weird but 10 months of the year I went to school and lived in Mount Pearl and when summer came or Easter break came we always headed off to my grandfather's house. I spent only a little time there but it was the best time in my life, and I spent it visiting my grandparents and getting to know their world. They were awesome folks, real salt of the earth people. I can tell you how many steps it was from the door step to the wood shed. I can tell you how my grandfather's work shop smelled (like freshly shaved wood and old paint brushes). I can tell you how much fun it was to lie in the tall grass on the top of his root cellar. I can tell you how the thorny bits on the gooseberry bush by the cellar door felt if you happened to brush against it. I can tell you how the wash stand stood in the porch long after everyone had stopped using it. I can tell you how many rungs were on the ladder that hung from the 45 degree angle roof. I can tell you how the white roses smelled on the rose tree in the front yard. I can tell you how many posts were on the gate that Gangpop would yell at me to stop swinging on. I can tell you how many steps there were to get to my bedroom. I can tell you how much breath I had to hold in order to get enough strength to push open the bathroom window when it would stick after a week of fog. I can tell you how good it felt to giggle with my older sister as we sat in the bathroom listen through the grate, to the adults talking in the kitchen below, (we used to lower things down on strings too sometimes just to scare the person sitting directly below). I can tell you exactly where my grandmother's Blue Willow jewelry dish stood on her dresser. I can tell you how freshly baked bread and freshly fried trout tasted for breakfast after being cooked on the big wood stove. I can tell you how many old hats were in the trunk in the cupboard under the roof of my parents bedroom. I can tell you how long it took to ride a bicycle over to Crawler's Hill. I can tell you how long it took to walk to Sandy Cove taking the Trickem's Rd. I can tell you how much I loved that place.

It's all gone now.  My Grandfather's house was purchased after his death by some unknown buyer who let the place go to wreck and ruin, and then 10 years ago my Uncle bought the house back and had it torn down because it had become such an eye sore. But 2 of the 5 poplar trees that I used to play "Go In And Out The Window" under are still there. So when I saw the brook that I used to go troutin' in as a raging river that had taken out a good 30 feet of road in front of my where my Grandfather's house used to stand, I knew that that small town would never be the same again.

It is funny how Canadians pull together and withing weeks of some disaster, dig down in their pockets and give generously to the victims of tsunami's in the Indian Ocean or to the victims of Earth quakes in Haiti.  But when it is in our own back yard .... nothing. Perhaps it is because nothing like this has ever happened here before. Though if you think back a few years ago when the Red River burst its banks in Manitoba there was a lot of outreach to those victims.  Still, perhaps Newfoundland is so far away that we just don't think about it. I'll be honest.... I'm the first one to admit that it just doesn't seem real. Newfoundland is such a peaceful spot... nothing out of the ordinary could really happen there.... at least that is what I felt until I started to do a little research on the effects of Igor. Newfoundland is hurting.... at least the area where I GREW UP. In Elliston on the Bonavista peninsula there are few roads left and infrastructure has broken down in a way we can only imagine. The Red Cross are taking donations for the victims of Hurricane Igor.... and I intend to donate. I will ask you to do the same. You can go here to find out more information about donating.

Now on a lighter note:
I went to FSJ today. My back is certainly on the semi-mend I think. And what a day it was.  It does the heart good to feel orange.... and that is certainly what happened as the sun hit the beautiful autumnal colours of the trees along the highway.... it was perfectly spectacular! Submersion a la orange! After threes weeks of the walls of my house it was nice to get a different view. And friends.... such dear friends.... there's nothing like being in the company of friends to make you feel, it's all good.

A little show and tell:

What I've been working on this last week.

A 3 ply Skein or Bison, Cashmere, Silk, and Merino that feels oh sooo nice!

Sock Yarn that I spun from black wool from my sheep, and some BFL rovings I dyed at the summer retreat.

Somme more of those little distaff bags.... that need embellishments and handles.

And a scarf that looks pretty plane Jane until.....

You turn it and look at it from this direction.

The scarf is from a book called Shadow Knitting. I think it is so cool because you can look at it straight on and never see the pattern until you turn it sideways and then, there it is in all it perfection.... a zig zag design.... hmmm.

So there you have it.... a gem of a day..... though I did have to give up Knit Night due to Teapot needing the truck..... Oh well the rest made up for that one small snafu....

I knew I had so much to tell y'all..... : )