Knitters-Knitters

My Summer Vacation

When we arrived at Susan's guest house, we found the pantry stocked with Olive's favorite foods.  It was almost as if Susan had found an online record detailing all of Olive's prefer...hey...

This is a horse (of course).  Susan's horses look just like the ones on TV, except no talking.

Agatha and Abbi, making flag cake.  It was Agatha's first time, and she didn't understand why it was supposed to be baked in a rectangular pan until it was time to decorate.

Sabina holding a kitten.  In the words of the immortal Bill Baughn (indulge me--it's not every day I get to quote from The Myoelectric Myth):

A prosthetist has made claim to have developed a prosthetic hand with "the sense of touch". When a child can put his prosthetic hand through a hole in a box and tell us he has found a kitten, that the kitten is warm and furry, that it is licking his hand and his tongue is rough and wet, then and only then will it be honest and ethical to use such a term.

 

This is Romeo.  He's 137 in dog years.  Clover was unafraid of him, due to either his lack of initiative or lack of teeth.

Olive with a Bomb Pop.  Remember Bomb Pops?  These were bigger when we were littler weren't they?  Come on, you 'member...

Susan and Christina in a mother/daughter shot.  I'm sorry they're blurry; they kept making tiny, almost imperceptible movements, as if they'd had too much caffeine.

Agatha, Brett and a Roman candle.

Olive walking briskly.

Olive up high.

Abbi, Mercy Grace, Agatha, Brett and sparklers.  At one point in the visit, Susan mentioned how cool it looked when Anatole did things with his little arm.  Apparently, seeing people handle pyrotechnics with their toes has gotten old hat.

Gideon (Susan's youngest) watching the fireworks while gently running his toy helicopter atop Clover's head.

Wake Me When We're Not in Iowa

We're back!  We had a great time. 

Though our visit was far too short, we did accomplish a lot.  We communed with nature:

We held kittens...

...and pyrotechnics.

We're very tired.

And sunburned.

I will decompress slowly in the days ahead, sharing photos and details of our wonderful vacation Chez Easley.  And I will work in a circular fashion, discussing the drives there and back, the first and last days of our trip, and concluding with the 4th of July.  I'll begin with a few words about Iowa, and a quiz with a prize.

This trip marked the end of my perfect record of never having been to Iowa.   Unlike many experiences my parents shielded me from during my over-protected childhood, this one bespeaks no alarmist behavior on their part.  My apologies to those of you who live in Iowa or who love Iowa, and to those of you who've never been but have, perhaps, been holding it out there as an experience to postpone and savor. 

You may be thinking that having been born and raised in Wisconsin and now living in Illinois, Iowa would come as no great shock to me.  You'd be wrong.  In fact, the drive was painful enough drive to register as a Learning Experience.  I learned that I'm waaaay more agoraphobic than claustrophobic, and that the sky looms even larger in a treeless landscape.  Olive slept through as much of Iowa as she possibly could, then sat up with a gasp and a cackle when we crossed back over the Mississippi into Illinois. 

On the drive out to Missouri, I still had the optimistic naivete of someone driving through Iowa for the first time and assumed that since we were relatively near a city I'd heard of, Starbucks couldn't be too far away.  Yes, I'm one of those people who gets a cozy, secure feeling at the sight of that round, green logo, with its promise of slightly citrusy and occasionally burnt coffee.  But I was wrong!  Starbucks was not in striking distance.  I don't even want to think about how far we were from the nearest check cashing place.

Now for the quiz:  where in Iowa were these three photos taken? 

I'm looking for the name of the one city nearest to those three pics, with the usual rules applying: you must not share my DNA or last name, no Googling, and if you're guessing with 100% confidence make sure you sound all tentative and insecure in your comment.  If there's more than one accurate guess I'll do a drawing. 

The prize will be a Starbucks gift certificate. 

In Which the Sullivans Hit the Open Road

Early tomorrow morning (well, today--you know what I mean) we are leaving for a long car trip.  This is the first vacation we have ever taken as a family in which we were not visiting Perlmans or Sullivans.  Think about that for a moment: that's pretty big stuff, isn't it?  We are going to see people we aren't even related to.

We're driving to Missouri to visit my pal Miss Susan and her family.   Susan and I have known each other for 13 years, and have seen each other exactly three times.  We met on a listserv for parents of amputees, where we discovered our shared objection to fitting congenital upper extremity amputees with prosthetics during infancy.  You know, the usual.  You probably remember Susan best as the person who created this beautiful book:

Susan has more than twice as many children than I do, two of her children have no arms at all, and she has grandchildren.  She has lots of pets and even livestock.  However, she does not have an autistic nonverbal child so I've sooooo got her beat, there.  Hah!

Of course, since this vacation involves a long car trip, I have planned accordingly by purchasing a Long Car Trip Knitting Project.

Many colors of Blue Sky Alpaca...

...out of which I will knit 48 garter stitch squares to make a very soft patchwork blanket.  When I get back I'll sew it all together and then do a garter stitch saw-tooth edging.

Now, if you were a small nonverbal person in possession of such a very special blanket, wouldn't that convince you that your Big Girl Bed was a superlative place to spend the entire night, and not just part of it?  Say yes.

I will be back on Monday evening (Tuesday afternoon, to you) and will have many pictures to share in which Sullivan children blend right in with everyone else.  I'm excited for my children.  It's a rare thing to be an unusual-looking family and have another unusual-looking family you can hang with where no one will think it's Weird that you're homeschooled, missing a limb or two, and have a larger than average number of siblings.

But mostly I'm excited for me.  Because when I'm hangin' out with Susan, I'm not Marginal Mom who "must be a very patient person."  If anything, I'm a dilettante, a rube, a slacker at this whole mom thing. 

My mother always told me that if you make just one friend in your life who truly wishes you well and wants good things to happen to you, you're lucky.  I am very lucky.  Nuff said.

I'll leave you with today's notes from Aliza:

Today your camper participated in:art, music, sports, tefillah, pie-making for the harvest.

Today your camper especially enjoyed : decorating her feet for walking in freedom, dancing at the fake wedding: biggest smile EVER.

We marched like soldiers to get the flag of Israel for independence.  (Please send Olive with a new pair of pants; hers got dirty.)  She went to a fake wedding and had an amazing time in honor of celebration day, and ended off the day with a party, snow cones, and party hats.  We had a fantastic day.

I'm guessing Olive got to hear this song today:

Shotgun

Even though my children take turns accompanying Olive and me on the oft-bewailed drive, it's still a lonely business playing chauffeur. So this time, I'm taking you along on the trip.  Buckle up and take your Dramanine--it won't be a fast ride, but I've been told I have a tendency to stop short and vary my speed in intermittent, discordant waves.

We'll begin with a little reminder of the purpose of our journey--Autism Academy for one very natty five year old.

Here we are at the corner of Lincoln and Foster.  We've never actually stopped for paletas, but maybe someday.

You've got to admit this is one confusing bit of signage.  In truth, Foster is not closed at Edens--the ramp is open, and then Foster ends.

Skokie.  A lovely shade of aqua, but I think the water tower may the most interesting landmark the town has to offer.

Here you'll feel a burning desire to pull the wheel sharply to the right so that you and I can sail off to Milwaukee, Cita d'amore, and blow this clambake we've been exiled to--Big Shoulders and all.  But for now, we're stuck with Waukegan.

When we pull into the driveway of Autism Academy, we occasionally get a special treat--a glimpse of Olive on the playground.  Here she is with Teacher Emily.

Yup!

The view from the courtyard.

We always come about 15 minutes early for the 2:00pm pick-up, so there's time to visit the waterfowl.  We're especially partial to this little duck.

I don't mind telling you, this alter kocker scares the crap out of me.

It's home again-home again now.  Our exit is East Touhy, which comes immediately after West Touhy.  To date, I have never seen anyone take the West Touhy exit.

The Purple Hotel, so named for obvious reasons.

Our turn-off at Lincoln.  You'd have to be near-unconscious to miss this turn.

Lincoln Avenue has many motels where I wouldn't recommend spending the night.  This is one of them.

Turn left on Foster.  We get an arrow, thank God!

We've all got our tsuris.

Heading into Ravenswood, our little corner of Chi-Town.

At the corner of Western and Foster.  Almost-almost!

Our corner store, our mechayeh, and home of the Peruvian Gentleman, a hilf if there ever was one.  Here's where we can find Olive's favorite brand of salsa, not to mention Pinguinos, Gansitos, Bimbunuelos, and for LB, an opportunity to kibbitz about futbol.  And on Wednesdays, there's homemade empanadas.

Time to unbuckle, everyone!