Gimmesanity

Yesterday morning, I put on my uniform one last time. I was on my way to out-process from my current station. On my way to start my leave before I head off for training in twelve days.

I buttoned up my shirt, stopping at the top button. I checked to make sure my name tag was on straight. I put on my blue pants and fiddled with the belt to make sure it was lined up properly. I slipped my feet into my shiny low-quarters and wiped them down with get the dust off. I pulled my hair back and secured it with eleventeen bobby pins. When I was done, I stood in front of the full-length mirror and realized that this was the the last time I’d be wearing these stripes. These stripes on my arms that I have worked hard for. These stripes that have made me work hard. The next time I’m in uniform, I’ll be an officer candidate. I stared at my stripes for a bit, and then wished that I’d been a little more thoughtful, and not so automatic, about getting dressed.

Except, I dress so automatically because these threads are comfortable. These threads fit me. Try as I can to fight it, as much as I may dislike saying it out loud, this uniform is me. I’m moving on, though. I’m closing this chapter and starting a new one. While I’m excited about what this next part of my life will bring, what new experiences await me, I’m surprised by how sad I am to let go of my enlisted stripes. The officer world is different in so many ways. They are the overseers, I suppose. But, it’s the enlisted, the worker bees, who get things done. We make the military run. Only, I won’t be part of that collective anymore. Not like before.

I stood in front of that mirror, bowed my head, and smiled. The next time I’m in uniform, I’ll be an officer candidate.

It’s been kinda crazy and stressful at Chez Gimmesanity. We’re moving in a week…I hope. If everything goes as planned, Alan and I will be making our way to Minneapolis on Sunday. By this time next week, we’ll be chilling in Chicago for the evening. Fingers and toes crossed for us, please and thank you.

Through the madness, I’ve managed to finish up this gorgeous sweater. It’s a bit late to rock it right now, but at least now I have something to look forward to wearing this fall, right?

Pattern: Vaila by Gundrun Johnston
Yarn: Malabrigo Merino Worsted in Olive, just shy of 5 skeins. Rock on.
Needles: US 7 and 8, and 10.5 to bind off the bottom

Fist off, I wanna say that I LOVE this sweater. Such a perfect match of yarn + pattern. This is such a soft, delicious yarn, but I’m a little worried about how much pilling I’ll have to deal with. Also, the colors of Malabrigo are so rich and gorgeous. Seriously, how can you go wrong?

For the mods, the biggest one was that I did this top-down. I wanted it pretty fitted. After seeing Nessa’s top-down version, I knew that I had to be a total copycat and make one for myself. My gauge was a bit off, but it didn’t make too much of a difference. I had a swatch and my measurements, and just worked from there. The more I knit, the more confident I’m getting with altering patterns to make them fit me the way I want them to fit. It’s a good feeling to know that I’m learning how to take charge of my knitting. I continued the reverse-fake-seam down the sides and along the arms. It helped break up all of that purling. Oh, and just a tip, when you do a gauge swatch, make sure you purl it. Duh.

I have some other things on the needles…maybe they’ll be done before I head out for training. I start June 9th…eep!! Deep, cleansing breaths.

“Mommy, do clouds have mouths?”
“No, they don’t have mouths.”
“Oh…then, where does the wind come from?”

Monkey shows me a note that she’s written (NOSESNIA.)
I read: “Noses Nia? What’s that mean?”
“No, not noses Nia. It says: No, says Nia.”

Monkey doesn’t like mint-flavored anything.
I tell her that her Auntie Angie doesn’t like mint, either.
End of conversation.
We go to the park.
She runs around, she climbs steps and makes friends.
Almost an hour later, she asks, out of the blue:
“If Auntie Angie doesn’t like mint, then what kind of toothpaste does she use?”

I was sad today.
Maybe it’s all the rain.
So much rain, for the past 6 days. Nothing but rain.
Yesterday, I waited outside for a friend.
Not realizing that it was more than a drizzle, I didn’t bring an umbrella.
I didn’t mind, though.
I stood on that corner and watched the drops darken my orange sweater.
Watched the water pool on the tops of my clogs.
Rain fell from the skies and I looked up and opened my eyes wide
and the droplets became tears.

This evening, I was feeling in need of a hug
so I went into the office and crawled onto Alan’s lap and put my head on his shoulder
and just sat there while tears traveled down the tip of my nose and onto his arm.
Monkey came in and asked if I was sad.
I said, “A little.”
“Is it because Papito died?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sad because you lost your dad?”
“Yes.”
She rubbed my back and said, “It’s OK to be sad, Momma.”
Then she draped my shawl over my shoulders.

Bean woke up yesterday morning and smiled.
I picked her up and nuzzled her neck, made her laugh.
That’s when I realized that her breath is changing.
Soon, no more sweet baby breath in the mornings.