Happy Birthday Oma!

I was going to gift this cardigan to my Oma for Christmas, but since I was down there so close to her birthday, I decided to just give it to her early.  The Monastery is located in the Sunny South, so she most likely won't be able to wear it for another few months, but at least she has it and can look at it before then!

The pattern is February Lady, which is lovely to knit and a great project for it's fit.  It's knit from the top down, so the length can be adjusted and tried on as it's worked.  Best yet, it's free!

The buttons are (in my opinion) rather cool, because they're made from recycled plastic but they feel like wood. 

The yarn is heathered and has a lot of subtle color variations, and if you look closesly there are bits of green in it.  Knowing my Oma likes to wear green a lot, I went with these buttons rather than the obvious brown choice.

 It looks great on her!

She even modeled it with her usual finesse and grace. (I'll leave it up to you to figure out where the sarcasm comes into that statement.  And no, it isn't an arthritic condition that is causing that particular gesture.  That's just natural Oma, ha ha!)

A Week at the Monastery

My Opa was diagnosed with stage four bone cancer not too long ago, so I was very happy when I had the opportunity to fly down and spend a week with my Opa and Oma (without kids, skip skip, joy joy!).

 

It's been over seven years since was at the Monastery during blue berry picking season, so I tried to make up for it by picking as many blueberries as I could.

Life at the Monastery is very slow.

Slow can be very nice.

We took long swims in the lake,

spent an inordinate amount of time discussing plants,

and speculated on the whereabouts of a pesky beaver.

There were spa treatments,

and practical jokes.

(I have photographic proof that my love of practical jokes is genetic.)

It's always hard leaving the Monastery for the hectic pace here in the Frigid North!

Raiding the Monastery

 

When I was last visiting my family in the Sunny South I was able to sneak away for a day and visit my Oma and Opa at their lovely home, which my family has dubbed the "Monastery" due to the peace and quiet and general air of serenity.

Oma gives, hands down, the best back rubs.  When we all get together at Christmas it's a bit of an unspoken race between my brother and I to see who gets to sit next to Oma and score the first back rub.  An Oma back rub is a hybrid of zen oneness with nature mixed with Yanni-like euphoria combined with an out of body experience leading to the most wonderful coma-like state of complete bliss.

Oma and Opa used to raise orchids, and I always enjoy seeing what types of orchids will be in bloom. For my birthday last March, Opa gave me a particularly lovely miniature phalaenopsis orchid with purple blooms that is budded out and getting ready to bloom any day now.

Their greenhouse used to be hung floor to ceiling (and hanging from the ceiling) with exotic plants, and although they've been retired for years now there are still a few plants kept here.

I think I got plant cuttings from every green thing around Oma and Opa's house, and Opa was nice enough to pot them up for me for my return trip home.

"Zis pot is okay, Rado?  You want a bigger one you will need helup."

I love Oma and Opa's Dutch accent.  I used to tease Opa about it when I was a young (and snarky) kid, but now I find it completely charming.

This table of sand has a heat coil running through it to help seedlings start faster.

"Why yes Opa, I'll take that one too.  And that one.  And that one over there."

Opa and Oma found especially funny that I had to bring some bamboo poles home for Mum.  It's a bit of a family legend that when I was 10 I cut through a 3 inch bamboo pole with a pair of dull kitchen scissors.  It took me the whole day, but in the end I got my fishing pole.

What I lack in brains I make up for in pure pig-headed stubbornness. 

(Thankfully this time instead of dull kitchen scissors I had a dull saw.  I'm learning.)

Oma Update

If you've read my earlier blog, you'll know that my Oma recently fell and broke her hip and needed hip replacement surgery. Thankfully, after an ordeal of epic proportions involving broken airplanes, multiple trips to Puerto Rico, and hurricanes, Oma finally arrived in Atlanta, Georgia.

Her surgery went well and she came out the other end with flying colors. Afterwards, she didn't even take any pain medications! As my Oma said herself, she's "a tough old broad".
Since then, she's developed a bit of a problem with her lungs and might need to stay in the hospital a few more days until that clears up. Since she's in the hospital and not feeling well, I will refrain from any snarky comments about being long-winded . . . (besides, I wouldn't put it past her to be able to smack me upside the head even from that distance!)
Yup, my Oma is one tough cookie, which is a good thing, because everyone else is pooped!

Monastic Life

We sometimes tease my Oma and Opa that they live in a monastery, largely because it's so quiet and peaceful at their house. From the solitude of the reclining chairs, you can feel the house hibernating around you and if you're not careful, your brain will switch to auto-pilot and the next thing you know it's a month later and you're still sitting in the reclining chair wondering if it's time for a cup of tea and some chocolate. Let me assure you, it's wonderful.
Anyway, Oma and Opa live on a beautiful lake in Georgia, and for the short time that we were there, we transformed the monastery into a nut house.

I think Oma and Opa liked it though.

At least, I'm sure they'll come around to liking it once their nervous twitching stops and they no longer hear crashing and banging sounds coming from the kitchen.

Of course we had to go to the Teeny Weenie, so named because it's a Teeny Weenie little beach.
OKAY SO IT'S NOT ORIGINAL. I WAS 7 AT THE TIME AND IT SEEMED LIKE A GREAT NAME BACK THEN.

Sheesh. Critics.(No, I'm not hung over or going for the vamp look. That's just mascara bleeding from my eye lids. When you're on vacation personal hygiene isn't all that important, especially when you're vacationing with family who've seen you at your worst anyway.)

My Oma and my dad are both closet pyromaniacs, and when they get together, they build fantastic fires and combined create a horrible disease -Melanoma (because my dad's name is Mel. Feel free to groan now.)

This little man is uninhibited by social mores. Nice and breezy, he is. I'd show you a cute butt shot nicely outlined by sandpaste, but unfortunately it's a little too "photogenic" for online use.
Woo-hoo, isn't my Oma a hottie? Watch out there, she's still got the stuff!

As I was looking at this photo, it suddenly occurred to me where Miss Boo gets her snarkyness from.
And of course Peter was well-named after my Opa, another Peter. It's amazing the level of identical disgust on their faces. They must be looking at Breanna.

JUST KIDDING!! I have no idea why they're both grimacing like that.

Whatever the reason, it couldn't have lasted for long, because we were just having way to much fun for frowns!