Knitters-Knitters

שירי חיות-לדוד משה

More notes from Aliza:

6/26 Friday

 

                                                8am, waiting for the bus.

Today your camper participated in: swimming, art, sports, playground, Judaics.

Your camper especially enjoyed: making a home run in tennis baseball.

Olive cleaned up all the paper towels in the bathroom by herself.  She is an amazing helper.  She enjoyed eating the ice cream we get on Fridays. 

She knows her schedule really well now and can associate pictures with places.  Each and every day she is becoming more and more independent from changing, putting food in the garbage and cleaning up after herself.  I'm so proud.  She is enjoying playing with a lanyard and key chain Rozzie gave her and having a blast at swimming with Rozzie.

 

                                                                                                Later the same day.

Monday, 6/29

Today your camper participated in: swimming, art, music, sports, nature.

Your camper especially enjoyed: dancing to Old McDonald in Hebrew.

She walked off the bus and right into camp with such a smile.  She was ready for camp to begin.  She is such a big helper when we need to clean up.  Olive has mastered the schedule and shows such independence.  I'm looking forward to another wonderful week.

Story Time

Accidental Journey

Today I went to the dentist's office with the 5 big kids (Olive had already had her check-up).  Two Mexican women sat next to us and began speaking to each other, in Spanish, about Sabina and Anatole's missing left arms--wondering aloud why they weren't wearing prosthetic hands.  One of the women speculated that perhaps we didn't have enough money to buy them, and the other one answered that couldn't be it because the older girl had braces on her teeth.  They started getting louder and more obvious in their discussion, adding hand gestures into the mix, to the point that one didn't need to speak Spanish at all to get what and whom they were talking about.

I stared at the younger woman, hard, and she asked me if I understand Spanish.  I said yes (I'm hardly proficient, but I got the gist of it) .  She asked me if I'd understood everything they'd just said, and I said yes again.  Then the older woman said, without missing a beat, "¡Ay, qué bonitos los niños!" as if she'd been saying nice things about us the entire time.  After that the younger woman made small talk with me, asking about my knitting, pretending to be interested, saying a fond good-bye when they left.  I smiled like an idiot and told her about the patchwork blanket I was making, acting as if everything that had transpired was wiped from memory once the discussion switched to English.

At the time I was wryly amused and I told LB about the exchange (out of the kids' earshot).  He laughed and said it sounded like something our beloved G-Lo could use in a routine.  I still wasn't done telling this story so I called my mom, and in recounting what had happened I realized that I was not amused or even "over it," not at all.  I was, at least temporarily, back in the land of why don't your children wear prosthetics?  I have not been there in ages, since long before Olive was even born, and I wasn't expecting to end up there this afternoon.  These days I spend so much time on Planet Autism that at first, I didn't get why these two women were staring at Anatole when he wasn't even yelling plah! plah! plah! or doing pincers-pincers in the air.  I'm much more fluent when it comes to fielding the confrontations inspired by those types of anomalies.

I know these women didn't intend for me to understand them and did not mean any harm.  But it would have been nice if, at the very least, they'd have done me the favor of looking embarrassed.

Starfish

Letter from Elisheva, swim instructor:

Dear Ramah Day Camp parents: We have successfully leveled all of the campers and swim lessons are underway.

Level 1: starfish

Level 2: jellyfish

Level 3: seahorse

Level 4: goldfish

Level 5: shark

Level 6: dolphin

Skills Olive has completed thus far:

Enter water independently, using ladder, steps or side.

Exit water independently, using ladder, steps or side.

 

                                                                                    (photo taken at camp)

Notes 6/24: Olive is such a pleasure to have in class.  Seeing how happy her face is just upon entering the water makes the day so much more enjoyable!  I really enjoy teaching her and look forward to the rest of the summer.

Sad

"And my goal in life is to give to the world what I was lucky to receive: the ecstasy of divine union through my music and my dance.”

                                                        -Michael Jackson

Dress Like Oscar Madison Day

More notes from Aliza:

June 23rd

Today your camper participated in: swimming, art (made a shield for Purim day), music, sports and playground.

Your camper especially enjoyed:tefillah (mimicking the way our mouths move when singing).

She had fun with water play.  She was very smiley and happy today.

Tomorrow is Yom Sports (sport's day).  She is on the grey team with her best friend R.  Please send her with a grey shirt and pants tomorrow.

She drank 2 full bottles of water.  She is becoming a master of her schedule and knowing what to do at each activity.

June 24th

We won third place!

Today your camper participated in: swimming, art (making a banner), sports (tug of war), playground and sprinklers.

Your camper especially enjoyed: having fun in the sprinklers with her friend R.

Her clothes are wet from going in the sprinklers.  She did an amazing job cheering on for the team, and had an amazing time in the relay race.  She went from swimming to sprinklers with a constant smile on her face.  We had a blast during sports day.

Cross-Country Cousins

Last night my cousin Jeannie and her daughter Emily came over for dinner.  They live in the Sacramento area and were in town to visit Northwestern and the University of Chicago.  Emily is going to be a senior in high school in the fall, so this is college tour season for her. 

As a bit of background, Jeannie is the youngest child of Irma's sister, Nora.   This means they are not Perlmans, and hail from the Lowenthal branch of the family.  Whether or not the Lowenthals or the Perlmans have the more extreme personality types is a matter best left to behavioral scientists and... people with tools capable of measuring teeny tiny discrepancies.  

Jeannie and I have shared alleles, but not as many as Lo and I, or Hen and I.  This meant there were approximately 45 seconds of polite small-talk (it would have been less, but we hadn't seen each other in ten years) before everyone laid their neuroses on the table and we settled in for a lightning round of who has the weirdest phobia.  I won't ascribe the fears to the people, but my fear of flying seemed like a paltry quirk when compared to a fear of frogs and a fear of large statues, specifically the Statue of Liberty.  

By the end of the first hour we'd gone through the fears of everyone present.  Things got more competitive and heated as we threw our siblings and extended family under the businto the discussion: fear of bridges.  Fear of New Year's Eve.  Fear of Olive Oyl.  Fear of Origami.  Rodents.  Dogs.  Popsicle sticks.  Siamese cats.  Corn.  Yes, fear of corn.  Score one for team Perlman!

Jeannie is a teacher of special education teachers, specializing in inclusion education programs and autism spectrum disorders.  A little eerie, huh?  This meant I had no choice but to pick her brain raw, and, I'm afraid, force her to answer for the various teachers and administrators who did not return my phone calls and emails this year.  She's offered to act on my behalf should this situation happen again.  So hear that, administrators in Olive's future: if you try to avoid me, Dr. Jeannie Gonsier-Gerdin will be coming for you.

Emily is a delight, and I couldn't believe how much she'd grown.  People always say that, don't they?  Except that Emily really is a delight, and since the last time I saw her she was around 7, she couldn't help but grow.  We are second cousins, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that Emily has certain personality traits that are completely alien to me and never before seen in the Lowenthal/Perlman spectrum.  For example, there were two instances over the course of the evening when Emily and another person began speaking at the same time.  On both occasions, Emily apologized and then allowed the other person to continue speaking.

Their departure reminded me of something the Rabbi Sherbill said during the retirement ceremony for our church's pastor, Dr. Kinloch.  After talking about his long friendship with Kinloch and the many collaborative efforts of TVPC and the Northbrook Community Synagogue, the Rabbi closed by saying that Presbyterians leave and never say good-bye, while Jews say good-bye and never leave.  It was certainly true on that sad night; Dr. Kinloch disappeared immediately after the ceremony and though we looked for him in the narthex, he was nowhere to be found.  And it was true last night.

Our good-byes lasted until long after Olive had fallen asleep, after the boys had gone to bed, and after LB had threatened to put on his pajamas.  Every time Jeannie and Emily made some progress toward the door, I remembered I needed to take a few extra pictures and tell them just one more thing.  I certainly couldn't let them go without telling them where to eat during their visit to Cornell, for example.  We had to see if Clover, who'd had a special bath for the occasion, would consent to being picked up by Jeannie.  And of course I had to explain to them that if they were going to be even one minute late when visiting my parents in Milwaukee the next morning, they really did need to phone or OFD would pencil them out and start calling relatives to figure out who'd care for Jeannie's surviving children.  Emily, who was raised in the land of popcorn ceilings, had to fondle our walls one last time.  Finally, we had to make sure all Gonsier-Gerdins and Perlman-Sullivans had cross-hugged.

Honestly, I thought they'd never leave.

Valderah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

I'm running out of ways to say we like camp.  Now that I think about it though, I may not have actually put it quite that way before: we like camp.  Here's Friday's wrap-up, from Aliza:

Your camper especially enjoyed: singing songs with her friend R. at lunch.

We had an amazing first week and can't wait to see what next week has in store.  Olive cleaned up after herself without me asking.  Her constant smile and wonderfully bright clothes are such a breath of fresh air and it's a pleasure to be with her.  She has started to use sign language with me and her listening skills and the ability to follow the group is exceptional.  Her friend R. made her a [not legible] that is being sent home.

And Monday:

Your camper participated in: swimming, nature, music, sports, dance.

Week 2 started off with a blast from hockey where Olive scored a goal to dancing to the Alef Bet song.  She was sneezing and had a runny nose for most of the day but her determination to have fun was wonderful.  Tomorrow is picture day.  If you could, send a purple shirt for our theme of colors of the rainbow.

Aliza's updates are often hard to read and have the unmistakable appearance of having been written using the back of another counselor as a writing desk.  Yet, every day there's an update--and never one with just boxes checked on the form.

Camp Ramah also has a weekly newsletter where parents can read snippets of what all the children are doing, and each week a different age group is spot-lit with extra photos.  Last week was not spotlight week for 2nd grade, but there was still an adorable photo of Olive and her new bestie.  NB stripey sweater:

Back to the knitting.  I've begun a swing coat from Easy Knits for Little Kids, but am using Rowan DK cotton instead of the recommended alpaca.

Yes, I am actually choosing to use cotton when the recipe doesn't even call for it.

I'm not sure what's happening, but lately I've felt cottonish instead of sheepish.  For many years I've railed against knitting with cotton: its lack of elasticity, its tendency toward dreaded Hanginess, its resemblance to butcher's twine.

I'm glad it can't read all the nasty things I've written about it.  For that matter, I'm glad cotton can't hear.  Sheep and alpaca can hear, of course.  If you're listening, little ungulates, I still love you best.  This is just a phase; you're the ones I'll keep coming back to.

What hasn't changed is that my favorite color combination is red and aqua.  I see it all over my old eBay pictures, back from when I used to sew.  I haven't flipped through those photo files in ages, and I'm left with that Alka Seltzer feeling of I can't believe I made the whole thing.

I have no memory of knitting this fair isle vest and sewing that skirt, but given the fact that I also have professional photos of Madi wearing it (my former model, and daughter of photographer Carrie) I know I must have made this set twice. 

Thank God I don't remember what it sold for; I have a feeling I'd be quickly depressed.

I do remember knitting this poncho set...

...the little aqua shrug, and the hoodie.

Both the hoodie and shrug are Rowan kid mohair.

And here's red and aqua again, sewn this time.  I made that set for the Boutique Birds first eBay launch.  I loved that outfit, and if Olive's eczema hadn't necessitated her wearing long sleeves and long pants at all times (before we discovered the miracle of Mometasone cream), I'd have kept it for her.  

Where are you now, ruffled skirt and matching top, and are you being worn and appreciated? 

Father's Day, as told by LB

Father's Day this year was unlike any other, but also more of the same.

There was Agatha's healthy interest in my employer, Smith Barney, in evidence yet again through sculptural representation.

There was Sabina's unerring ability to recount everyday details, as she rendered our living room tableau with humor and accuracy.

And there I was, on the couch, in typical weekend recovery mode with Olive by my side and the DVR unspooling hours of Confederations Cup soccer on ESPN (the USA managed a huge win over Egypt and earned a freakish advance to the semi-finals through Brazil's domination of Italy).

While the soccer kept me glued to the set, the girls managed to bake a carrot cake, decorating the top with well-wishes for my day as well as the only assertion about their dad they could muster (or fit on the cake) --- that I'm smart. Well, they're generous too!

In the late afternoon, we paused for the presentation of cards and good wishes. Along with the aforementioned Smith Barney diorama, and the black and white sketch of me and Olive on the couch, I was given cards by the boys, and two woolen knuckles in green wool crocheted by Daisy. We will call them the Iranian Knuckles of Non-Violent Democratic Protest, or "Anthro-Knuckles" if you are a Waldorf school grad.

Pix (she is Pixie to my LB) and I also sandwiched in a walk on a humid Chicagoland afternoon: Olive rode quietly in the stroller while we aired our hopes and fears among the manicured lawns of Northbrook. As usual, Pix had the brilliant insights, I offered the occasional apt reflection. It's a role I'm comfortable with --- maybe not the smartest man in the room --- but endeavoring to be better than I was the year before.

A Father's Day Treat

I had intended to take Saturday off (meaning no post on Sunday) but then I made these delicious cream cheese rolls and had to tell you about them.  I used the Pioneer Woman's cinnamon roll recipe for the dough, but for the filling I took three 8 oz packages of cream cheese, blended them with about two cups of powdered sugar, grated peel from two lemons, and about 1/4 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice (this is per log -- if you make the dough according to her recipe, then double everything I did for the filling and frosting).  The filling should be thin enough to spread, but not runny.

I spread the filling over the rolled out dough, then poured two 6 oz packages of fresh blueberries over the spread-out filling.  I rolled it up, sliced and baked per the original recipe (400 degrees, about 20 minutes), except I didn't have enough round cake pans so I also used a muffin tin.

For the icing, I used 1/4 cup butter, 1/2 cup lemon juice, and about 2.5 cups of powdered sugar.  I heated it over the stove mixing continually, then poured it over the finished rolls (you don't necessarily have to cook it, but I prefer not to have any crunch of sugar in the glaze). 

I knew they'd be good, but I had no idea how good they'd be.  If I'd known,  would have paid more attention to my measurements and written them down as I went along. 

When LB brought the children home from the park I made everyone eat one, even though a warm blueberry cheesecake roll was probably the last thing they'd have chosen as a snack on such a hot, humid day.

Olive ate two rolls.  Sabina managed to sneak off and shower first, but then was forced to eat her roll like everyone else.

Fair is fair.

 

Happy Father's Day!