Knitting Again Feels Right...and Left

So many things to make and do that knitting kind of fell by the wayside. I haven't knit since last year. Can't believe that but it's true. So true that I forgot how to cast on and realized I was knitting left handed and then had to change back to Continental. That was 1/4 through this project. It just felt sort of wrong. I'm in the zone again and made these handwarmers by Purl. I had intended to make the fingerless glove version of this pattern but never did and then when this pattern came out without fingers, I knew I had to make them. So I did.

Next project?

I Dream of Calder

Calder Mobile at JFK Airport

Ever since learning about Alexander Calder in Art History in high school, I have always dreamed of having my own Calder or even Calder-esque mobile. I was struck by the floating bold shapes and colors.

I finally found a similar type mobile by Flensted and have a great place to display and admire it; in my entry hall. My dream has been realized.

My Favorite Ghost Town

The old school house, now an artist gallery and studio space

Jerome, AZ has been my favorite place ever since I was in high school. It's the largest ghost town in America. Once a busy mining town, now a fabulous place to visit for a day trip or even a nice weekend.

An old Safeway sign preserved but it's a boutique now

I love it for the old architecture and the photo ops. Surprises are around every corner.

I stayed a night in Jerome recently and was pleased to see that it has more life, but the old is still preserved. It's a very successful destination spot with quaint hotels, wine bars, restaurants, boutiques, and a wonderful artist presence throughout.

Jerome has got such character and quirkiness that during our early morning walk around town we could really stop and admire.

And for me, it was great to see that what was left of old hotel was still protected because I took this same exact picture when I was in high school. And I took it again 2 weeks ago.

19 Years Married

19 years married. Happy Anniversary to us. That's just amazing to me. Not the fact that we've been married to each other for 19 years, but that we have been married that long. Seems like yesterday that my daughter was born and a week later, not looking or feeling my best, wearing a nursing bra and a big outfit, we went out for a quick romantic dinner to celebrate our 1st anniversary before Emily needed her next feeding. Now she's in college and my son is in high school. Where has the time gone?

But, the best part of an anniversary and especially this one, is dessert. We were surprised by my dear friend Kristin and her wonderful husband Lyle with this anniversary cake that she made for us. Seriously! We are so lucky to have a friend as a baker. Though, known for her cupcakes, I was blown away by this beautiful cake!

And how did Kristin know my favorite flavors? This is a pistachio 3-layer cake filled with apricot gelee' and marzipan. On top is chocolate ganache. Whoa! It was delicious and very much appreciated. Thanks again Kristin!

It was Stormy

This past weekend was one I will never forget. I had the opportunity to reunite with gymnastics teammates and coaches that I hadn’t seen in 30+ years at the gymnastics camp I used to go to each summer.  Some of these girls and coaches I hadn’t seen since I was 10 years old, others I hadn’t seen since I was 14 or 15.

 Stormy, spotting me on a full twisting back with Mike Dennison looking on

Stormy and a typical trip in the Trans Van to a meet (photo by Sheryl Gardner May)

As I child and later a teen, I was on the Desert Devils gymnastics team in Tempe/Scottsdale, AZ. I spent at least 3 hours a day and Saturdays at the gym training with these girls. They were like my sisters, the coaches; my adult role models. We would laugh together, travel together, compete together, go to the lake waterskiing together, and cry as well, together. I watched with awe at the older gymnasts, hoping one day I could be as good as they were. I also was like a big sister to the younger gymnasts that perhaps thought the same about me.  

Saturday, as I entered Super Camp on the now wide gravel road, I thought how much quicker it was to get up here these days since the roads were no longer muddy and full of very sketchy dips and holes.  The Aspen trees were holding the camp in their loving embrace.  Past the pond we used to dive into and swim to the slide after running miles just as the sun would break, to achieve the status as a member of the Polar Bear Club. Yuck. The water was a dark green, almost black. It hadn’t changed in all of these years. How did we do that?

Arriving to camp the first thing I did as I got out of the car was close my eyes and take a big breath in through my nose, smelling that familiar again smell, the one I always loved, the smell of Aspen trees in the Mingus Mountains. I wished I could bottle that smell.

The reunion began. Many people were there. Many I knew, some I didn’t because they weren’t even born when I quit. I wished other teammates were there that couldn’t make it, but I felt that I represented them.  The one person missing who should have been there; the person that started it all, was our head coach, Stormy.  There was definitely a void I felt with him physically not there. You see he would have loved to have been there, but he passed away in a small plane crash in 1995.  

former Desert Devil coach Craig Kirby

During the reunion, we spent some time having a special memorial to Stormy. I know he was there listening. Everyone knew it as well. At 2:26 every summer it would rain. It was about that time we did the memorial.  The clouds rolled in, the thunder began, the wind blew in and out. We shared memories. Towards the end, the sun came out. The rain never came to Super Camp that day.  Stormy was there and wanted to spend time with us. At the end of the day, we left camp in our cars. As we drove, not even to the end of camp, there was hail on the ground, marble sized hail.  And driving further down the mountain, the hail on the ground was thick, like snow. A blanket of protection for everyone to get off the mountain safely.  

In the 2 days we spent at camp this past weekend sharing stories about our time together and catching up on these past years we hadn’t, one thing that was evident was the pride we had at the end of the weekend knowing that we were part of a very special group of people that had accomplished so much and had such a great time doing it.

“Once a Desert Devil, always a Desert Devil.” (Quin Shannon, former Desert Devil coach)