Chickenlips Knitting

There's no yarn content in this post. I have been dyeing sock yarn, and will spend the afternoon doing more of that, mostly repeats of existing colorways that I ran out of. The thing is that this past week, a couple of people I knew have passed away, and I want to remember them, not only because they were special and I'm sad that they're gone, but because in their passing I've seen something of myself that isn't sitting too well with me right now. I'll get to that later though.

A fellow knit blogger, Crafty Momma, died suddenly at her home last week. She was in her early 30's, a devoted wife and mother of three young children. We had exchanged blog comments a few times, and I was always touched by how loving she was toward her hubby and kids. Her posts were more about the ups and downs of family life than knitting. Which I enjoy--that's more interesting to me than blogs about knitting and nothing but. So I was shocked to hear that someone so sweet had died too soon, and very sad when I think of the husband and children who love and need her.

Very early yesterday morning, our neighbor of 11 years died. Her name was Zainab, she was from Pakistan. She was in her late 70s, I estimate, and had emphysema which seemed worse after she returned from a trip to the East coast to visit her daughter. Over the years, she had extended us many more dinner invitations than we accepted, and I regret now that I didn't spend more time with her. Zainab had raised three children, and she was living in a house too large for just her and her husband--she loved having a houseful of guests and was a superb cook. I learned from her to make some of the dishes that are now my favorites. Because Muslims bury their dead before sundown, her funeral was held yesterday afternoon. I hadn't been to a funeral in a very long time, and never to a graveside ceremony. Everything was done according to the Koran. Her body was wrapped in a white sheet, and her sons lowered her into the plot, positioning her so that she faced east and was on her right side. It was so hard to see the devastation of her family, especially her husband, who when I offered my condolences, said "she was with me 55 years". After a few months, he will go to either the east coast or Los Angeles to live with one of his children, and the house will be sold. Zainab brought so many people together, and helped make our neighborhood a nice place to live. I am sorry to see that period of peace, comfort and friendliness come to an end--we were lucky to have it and I think we took it for granted.

Which brings me to my own nagging flaw. I don't regret making the decision to start Stitchjones, because yarn is my passion, but I think I have been taking myself too seriously in some ways. More important than whether Stitchjones ever becomes profitable or not, is that I am fortunate enough to have a husband who wants me to do what makes me happy, friends who are willing to lend their talents to help me succeed, and yarn and fiber to dye. There is no need for me to seek the attention of knitting celebrities, only to do what's in front of me to do, and take joy in it. And reach out more, something that is hard for me to do.

Ok, enough of the serious. Pretty things next post, I promise!