To my SP5: I got the package yesterday. Thank you, I love the yarn. And the chocolate, well by the time I can take photos, there might not be chocolate to photograph. Thanks so much!
Saturday. The perfect beach day, but this family instead, made the 10 hour round trip to move Gillian back to school. We started out in two cars, Mum and Dad in one, the girls travelling together then returned, on girl shy, in one car. I dread five hours in a car with any two of my children. Yeah, I know, they are older, but the "She's touching me!" and "Make her stop singing!" is just a habit they are loathe to give up. Amazingly, they got along the whole time. Sort of. The thing is, sometimes the getting along is worse than the fighting. As they rode, each at their own side of the car, all was well until Erin began to feel a bit car sick. I advised her to move to the center of the back seat and look straight out the front window until she felt better. Clearly, I did not think this through. Maybe Erin started feeling better, I don't know. Pete and I were fully engrossed in the book on tape that we started along with the trip (more on that in a minute), so when the giggling started we pretty much ignored it. I mean, they were getting along after all. I think everyone with children must have one like Meagan. The one that just doesn't know when enough is enough. A little laughing? Good. A lot of laughing? Better. Up the torturous kidding, joking, imaginary tickling (yes! imaginary. She said she wasn't actually touching Erin at all, she didn't need to) until the poor victim can't breathe enough to get out the words "I'm going to throw up!" and Meg still doesn't stop. She almost killed her sister. I turn around to tell them to stop (because they are now distracting us from our book) and I see Erin bright red with blue around the edges, gasping for air, heaving, eyes bulging from their sockets......... After scrambling for a recepticle I ordered them back to their respective corners and it still took them a good twenty minutes to calm down, during which Pete and I are yelling at them to stop, to which Meagan replies, "No fun allowed!" Yeah, right.
Did I get any knitting done? Well, I always offer to help with the driving, but I never really mean it. I got most of the second Sockpal-2-za sock finished. Here it is zooming by the Big Apple.
When renting audiobooks for the summer I decided that at least one of them had to be "not a novel". In choosing Isaac's Storm (a true story of the unnamed 1900 hurricane that destroyed Galveston, Texas, killing 8,000 people) I had really no interest in a book about a hurricane, but thought that I had been surprised by historical accounts before, I would give it a try. I almost sent this one back unlistened to, but looking forward to all those hours of driving and thinking that it would be something that Pete (who loves reading any kind of true history books) and I might both enjoy, I grabbed it on the way out the door. It is totally coincidental how timely this was. Along with personal accounts of surviving a horrific and catastrophic event there is the history of the early weather service, the science of what makes a huge storm develop and a description of the growing pains of early weather forecasting. Then came Katrina. Having been totally consumed with the people, the living and dying, the terror and destruction of the storm in the book, I came home and researched this event online. Seeing the photos I kept thinking that we have come so far in building and technology that we would never see these same devastation again, it just wouldn't happen in the same way. What we have learned this week is that no matter how far we have come, nature cannot be stopped. In the case of this storm, even with all the advances that have been made, all we can do is sit and wait. The one advantage we have is early warning. I still cannot stop running the words of the survivors of the Galveston storm through my mind, while being glued to the television reports. Over one hundred years later and the words are the same. The fear the same. Not believing that the water would come up so high, because it never had before, the same. The grief and loss, the same. Showing the best and worst of human nature, the same. Just the same. And on the Gulf Coast this time, it is not going to get better soon. Even with the television reports (which unlike usual tv reporting, I don't think are even capturing the reality, much less distorting out of proportion) I find it unimaginable. Wrapping my mind around it is too difficult. I strongly encourage you to at least skim this book, or any of the others that have personal accounts of that storm. You will come away with a new and distressing view of what Katrina vicitms are going through. There are so many things that we as knitters and knit bloggers have pulled together to do, how can we help here?
Edited to Add: If you have donations of food or clothing, but have no idea how to get them to the areas affected, Amanda, who lives very close to the hurricane damaged sites, has offered to receive and distribute any donations. Check out her blog and email her for details.
If you have any other ideas, venues for donations, or suggestions for making donations send them along, I will leave them in the comments or add them here.