If you have ever knitted then surely you can relate to this sweater and my sister, Carol’s, frustration.  I believe as you read her comments below you will no doubt laugh and maybe relate to her disappointment?  Not sure that disappointment is the right word but we will use it!  

If I were brave enough I could have modeled it for you!  It was a sight to behold and an experience I hope I don’t repeat.  At least I can say I did make myself a sweater.  lol 

My sister, Carol,  loves to create and is quite talented at many things.  She cooks, sews, knits, crochets, quilts and on and on.  Recently we were together and she was sharing some of the things she was doing so at my request she has sent me pictures and I am going to share a few with you this week.

Aren’t they just the cutest things you have ever seen….Thanks for sharing Carol….and there is much more coming.

Today we have another guest author, Kim Greiner, daughter of Mother Chic and sister to Deb and Julie.

I have a confession to make.  I wasn’t a baseball fan.  Yes, that’s right; America’s favorite pastime was not mine.  The game just simply is too slow for me.  You’ll be glad to know I’ve been converted.  It started when my daughter played softball this year.  The games were fun and she was really into it.  Not like when they’re younger and they don’t even know it’s time to run in and the inning is over.  They actually made double plays and slid home in close calls.  That started it, but what really changed it was Fenway.

We vacationed in Massachusetts this summer.  My husband has family there.  In the past we lived in upstate New York and were able to see them more often.  Of course like everyone in the state, they are avid fans.  You can imagine when they won the series we got a call to make sure we were watching.  So my husband decided while visiting there we would all catch a game.  “Oh, boy.  I thought this was my vacation too.”  But I knew everyone would love it and he was able to get tickets.

Now, unlike a lot of sports complexes I’ve been to, there aren’t acres of parking lot spaces and you walk up to the stadium.  No, Fenway is right in the heart of the city.  We weaved in through traffic and managed to find a spot amidst the brownstones where the attendant lived up a couple floors and crammed us in so tight everyone but the driver gets out because you can’t open the doors later.

So we set out on foot through the streets to the stadium.  As you head down in the mix with thousands of others, there are bars and restaurants and vendors everywhere.  You can smell the dogs.  It’s more like a street party.  I definitely recommend going early.  You want time to mill around, grab a dog and a beer and watch the performers.

Once inside the stadium we headed off to our seats.  Now mind you, they’ve remodeled parts of the stadium, but our seats were still in a section yet to be ripped and renewed.  I was so glad.  Instead of the standard plastic chair, it was the old wooden slat chair with years of layered paint.  I could just imagine what it must have been like in the early 1900s sitting there.  It’s such a part of history.  They have a single seat painted red indicating the place where Ted Williams hit his 502-foot home run in 1946. I wish I could have gone and sat in it and looked back toward home plate.  What a feat in the days before protein drinks and scientific workouts.  That skill, talent, and sheer desire is amazing.

I was also impressed by the crowd.  Oh, the beer flowed like you wouldn’t believe, but poor behavior is simply not tolerated.  Bostonians are great people.  They’re not as reserved as Midwesterners and I like that.  It definitely was a place you could take your family and have a good time.  In between innings they would play a popular song and the entire crowd would sing and of course with the traditional 7^th inning stretch “Take Me Out To The Ballpark”.  We were even treated to a winning game.

Well, we’ll go back.  But this time, I want a seat on the Green Monster!

Today we have a guest author, David Wallace.  David is the son of Mother Chic and brother to Debbie and Julie.  We are thrilled to have him share and thrilled to have him here with us after having quadruple bypass at the age of 45.

I decided it was time to transplant the Peace Lily in my kitchen window again! I’ve had it since I was in the hospital 6 years ago for bypass surgery. It was in a little basket with some other things, and no bigger than a Dixie cup. It has been transplanted twice before and is now getting it‘s third pot. It grows like crazy and blooms every year in the spring. It is a reminder of how grateful I am to be here.

Transplanting a plant is pretty simple, but sometimes I seem to procrastinate getting it done so I am pretty sure this plant is root bound.   To start I got the amount of soil I needed from a local nursery. Of course you need some kind of new pot to put it in. I got lucky my Mother gave me a beautiful pot as you can tell from the pictures. I just love it and am looking forward to it being in my kitchen window to see everyday. You also may need a couple of tools. I only needed a little flower shovel for this job.

To start we made a little work space in the garage and laid a trash bag down to catch the dirt droppings. Surprisingly I did a pretty neat job! First I removed the plant from the old pot by running the little shovel around the inside of the pot to loosen and then it pulled right out. Wow that part was easy. The last time I had let it get too root bound and didn’t think I would ever get it out of the pot short of breaking the darn thing. Next I put some soil in the bottom of the new pot and then adjusted that until the plant was just at the top of the pot but not above the rim. Then I simply filled in around the edges of the pot, tamped it in firmly so the air would get out of the   soil. Now I just need to put it in my window and give it a little water.

Oh yea I forgot you should always clean up your mess afterward and put everything as you found it. Well that’s the way my dad said you should do it.