Warm Fuzzies

I'm at work, and just got a phone call from my uncle, Harry. My dad has only one brother, his elder by four years, which makes Harry 72. A very spry, healthy and hearty man, thank God.

Harry is a Vietnam vet, who flew for the Navy. Therefore, I barely knew him growing up. When I was very young, I remember hearing his voice on cassette tapes he would send from Hawaii. I remember there being a collision when he was stationed on the John F. Kennedy, and my dad calling everywhere trying to find out if Harry was okay. And I remember one visit to Virginia Beach after Harry and his wife Darlene settled there with my five cousins, for each whose births Harry was absent. You bet I admire Darlene!

So, other than family reunions, I didn't know Harry well. Until. A few years ago, at a reunion being held at his home, we got to talking, mostly about my dad. You see, Dad suffered a stroke when he was a bit younger than I am now. He's physically well, but the stroke affected his speech recall, putting paid to his teaching career. Thus this man who was always the center of conversation, with a biting wit, now sits on the sidelines listening, fighting occasionally to find the right word to interject.

What this meant to me was pretty profound. Dad and I had a very rocky relationship growing up. I never felt good enough for him, and he repeated behaviors he disliked in his own father. But right about the time I felt grown-up enough to tell him how I felt, I no longer could. It would have been fighting an unarmed opponent, and think what you will of me, Gentle Reader, I have a bit more honor than that.

At the reunion, I told this to Harry, following by saying that I felt I'd effectively lost my father. And he startled me by saying he knew just how I felt, because he'd lost his only sibling, the brother that was the only one who would know what their youth was like. It was a huge bonding moment for us, and to a small extent, Harry stepped into the shoes my Dad never filled for me.

Now, the men in my family are traditionally very good hobby carpenters. When my younger daughter was graduating from university, I asked Harry to make her a cedar chest for her gift from us. He did a lovely job, only allowing me to pay for some of the wood. The same when he made an incredible display cabinet for me, and then he surprised us with a gorgeous swiveling double frame as a studio-warming gift.

Not too surprisingly, then, I wanted to make something for him. I settled on a scarf, the beginning of which you can see here. I fell for the yarn, and it reminded me of Harry's lovely blue eyes. The man was killer handsome in his youth, and is still a stunner, as you can see in this picture of him with my late grandmother from four years ago!

The scarf was my car knitting, even with the cables, since they were relatively big and easy, even with slippery yarn. I kept it in my "Emergency Knitting" bag, and worked on it sporadically. Then I realized it was getting close to being long enough, and Christmas was coming, and I did a full-court press (whatever THAT is) to finish it. It was shipped on Friday, with a note telling him what he means to me.

He called the studio today, confessing he couldn't wait to open it. Hey, I'm from this family, and I never expected him to! He repeated several times how beautiful the scarf was, and that he was very moved. He said it was one of the most thoughtful gifts he'd ever received, because he knew a part of me was in it.

It's so wonderful to have one's efforts appreciated like that! Granted, it was a small thing to make, but I did put love into every stitch. I wish we'd gotten to be close earlier in life. I'm sure it would have helped me grow into a better person...not much better, of course, because I'll be snarky till the day I die, but better.

Harry remarked how warm the scarf was. Funny, but I think it's keeping me warm too.

And There's More

I had another unexpected client come in and ask for a restoration and tinting job. The image is his late mother, and it's over 60 years old. As you can see, it's yellowed badly, but there wasn't much overall damage.


I got information from him about her coloring. He said her hair was black, and her eyes brown, but he had no idea what color her dress would have been. I suggested a red, so both flatter her coloring, and because the only lip color you could really get back then was, you guessed it, red.

Here's the resulting image, sent off to the lab for EIGHT 11x14s!





















As promised, a picture of the stocking that will be a Christmas present for the DH's niece, whose name I drew for the gift exchange. This was a Knitpicks kit, and I'm very pleased with how it turned out, save one teeny tiny little detail I screwed up. I put the afterthought heel on the wrong flippin' side of the stocking! I missed a critical few words in the pattern. But she'll never know the difference and it's still cute, so oh, well. Yet again I remind myself of the Persian rug makers, who deliberately make an error in every rug they make, because "only Allah is perfect." So, I wouldn't want to mess with THAT.


Lastly for today, when my hands get tired of knitting with tiny needles working on DD's gauntlets, I'm working on a bit of spinning. With gift knitting I've hardly spun at all lately. Although the last thing I needed was more fiber, thankfully, need didn't enter into it. :-D I fell in love.

The roving is from the Copperpot Etsy store. She shares my love for purple, and I couldn't resist this beautifully prepared mix of merino, tussah, bamboo and a bit of silvery shimmery Firestar. It wants to spin pretty thin, so maybe a shawl will come from the 7+ ounces I got. Drafting is almost effortless with this stuff. The picture leans a hint more magenta than it really is, and it's a bit darker than this too, but I had to use flash or you wouldn't see how finely it's spinning up. It's yummy! I'll do my usual two-ply with it and see what I get. Good thing is, I know it'll be purple.

In Living Color (not the show)

A lady came into the studio today with this 4x6 print, and a story.


The woman pictured is the client's sister. She was a ballerina - I don't know how professionally or anything, but since she's not a child here, I'm assuming (yes, yes, I know!) that she danced for at least some of her adult years.

Unfortunately, all of her pictures were lost in a flood. Need I tell you the devastation she felt? If I do need, you aren't appreciating your photos nearly enough. Go, now...appreciate them and I'll wait.

Okay. My client found this picture about two years ago, and as she says it, desperately wanted to have an 8x10 made of it, and have it tinted as a surprise gift for her sister. She called all over the place; no one did this kind of work.

Then she called us. Oh, yes, the DH told her, we can do that. Just bring it in for a quote. Once she did and I told her that I could do just what she wanted, she was thrilled. To the point of tears. Awwwww. Dammit, I was moved.

I hate being moved. Costs me money. I know this because I only charged her for about two-fifths of the time I actually used. Now, I could have done it in the hour I charged, but not to my satisfaction. And your Goddess simply MUST be satisfied. Ask anyone. Go ahead, I'll wait again.

So here you have it. The client specified the colors she wanted. She said she wouldn't care if only her sister were colored, but I don't think she really would have liked how that looked. The only thing I left as it was, barring cleaning up dust and scratches, was the sofa.

It does look tinted, of course - I defy anyone to colorize a black and white where you can't tell at all that it's been done. Heck, even Ted Turner with all his money couldn't do it. But I am pleased with it. Skin tones are especially difficult, but I think they look very natural here. Her face is sharper, and the contrast is much better too.

On the knitting front, I finished the stocking I was knitting. My younger daughter's birthday was Sunday, and I had found a hat/mitten combo I liked and thought I'd knit her. I sent her to the site to see it.

She emailed back showing me a pattern on the same site for gauntlets (think fingerless mittens) that she preferred. Since I love gauntlets too, I have about a dozen patterns for them. I sent her the .pdfs so she could choose one.

Being my daughter, she picked the most intricate set made on the tiniest needles. *sigh* They're my favorites too. They are by Rosemary Hill, aka Romi, and are called Verdigris. If you've never seen her shawl pins, I utterly love the ones I have. As well as my yarn ball earrings. Anyway, I'm almost done the first one...DD knew she wouldn't get them in time for her birthday...making them from Louet Gems in Pewter, one of the skeins Witt gave me in a color she likes and I don't. So that works!

Pictures of that, and the stocking, soon. I know you have nothing else to anticipate this time of year.

"Polite-ing to Death"

That, for those of you that haven't seen it before, is a Southern-ism. Whereas if you angered someone in NYC they'd rip you a new one, in the deep South things are different. Especially with the ladies. If someone, especially someone with a whip hand over you, is unfair or rude, you "Yes'm" the hell out of them. Everything is said in a tone of deep respect, not a word out of place, leaving the angry person no ground upon which to stand. (I know that is grammatically correct, but English is so awkward that way, basing so much on Latin rules when it's not really a Latin-based language. But I digress.)

So why do I mention that technique? Because customer service in all walks of life has resorted to it as a means of dealing with a consumer, irate or not, and to be honest, I am sick of it.

As an example...today I received an email from my younger sister, B. I had drawn her name for Christmas this year. With four kids in my family, spouses and adult grandchildren, we went to this system several years ago. Much more sensible. Said sister lives in Georgia.

The day before we did the drawing, my other sister J and I were shopping in Kohl's. She spotted some serving pieces in a snowman theme, and remarked that they would be perfect for B, who apparently has a snowman fetish of which I was heretofore unaware. When I drew B, I knew what to get.

Rather than go to the store and pack it all up myself, I went online - how I do 90% of my gift shopping, btw - and placed the order. I wanted to send it early because a) it was on sale; b) I had the money; and c) not much sense giving a holiday item that will be immediately put away. So I placed the order, and watched the tracking to see when she'd get it.

The cheapest shipping option was Fedex, but the kind where they get it there, then give it to the USPS to deliver. This seems to me like a Montague trusting a Capulet with their goblet of wine, but there you have it. Since no one was home to sign for delivery, they had to go pick it up at the Post Office. And one of the two pieces I sent was shattered. Not broken, decimated. B. called Kohl's to report it and they said they would credit my card.

Naturally, I still wanted my sister to have the piece I sent, rather than the pieces it became, so I called customer service, using the number on my email confirmation. Which did not take me to regular customer service, but to Kohl's charge card service. I don't have one, don't want one, and if you own a store card that you don't pay off every month, you're insane. Their rates are usury, pure and simple. But they kindly connected me to the correct department, and I got a rep right away, a rarity that I found pleasing. And even better, I spoke to someone in the USA.

And got Polited. I wasn't upset when I called, I know that doo-doo happens, but this is the way we're all treated now. Everything was over-enthusiastic. Provide your name, and you'd think you just went potty on your own for the first time. Confirm your address and they're practically orgasmic. When I called Sprint awhile back, everything was "Thank you sooo much for that information!" The woman I spoke with at Kohl's was very nice. Don't get me wrong. She got the item re-ordered for me, and was delighted to find it was on a deeper sale and I would save two whole additional dollars. She exclaimed over the adorableness, and informed me she should order one (I was forcibly reminded of the Target lady on SNL!). She told me of her deep longing to visit Georgia, and thrilled to tell me there would be no shipping. All very sweet.

And it made me irritated where I wasn't before. Yes, I know, you're thinking it's perverse of me. However, I prefer to deal professionally. I'm not adverse to a little schmoozing of clients when there is a relationship there, as in our business. But with luck, I won't speak to Suzy Sunshine again. No relationship to develop. Instead, a call that could have been completed in half the time was elongated by all the verbal ego stroking.

I'll grant you, it's preferable to the surliness I was on the end of on another call today. Another company with whom we have no business, nor would we, attempting to fax our voice line. After six of these in rapid succession a few days ago, I looked up the number on Google, found their voice line (no, you really don't want to mess with me) and called. Spoke to a young man who was properly apologetic and guaranteed to take care of it.

Uh-huh. Got six more today. After the first two, I called them, and this time got a young woman. She informed me that I would need to speak with the young man again, and he would have to call me back. I suggested that while I wait on that, she could walk herself to the fax, or call wherever it is, and ask them to knock it off. She got very snippy, told me I'd have to wait for the call, and hung up on me.

That sucks as customer service. If he does call, I'll rat her out in a heartbeat...after all, they are harassing ME, interrupting my work, so what right does she have to be pissed at me for asking that it stop? I didn't use any rude words, or raise my voice. And if they don't call me, you can be sure I'll be on the horn to them soon.

But on the up side, at least I didn't feel like I was covered in sugar syrup when I got off the phone. Not a good feeling for a diabetic. :-)

My Elfine's Socks

I finished my socks this weekend, and after beating my mother and sister (more on them later) off with a stick, I managed to keep them! These are unblocked except by my foot.

Yes, I have cankles, and you can go sit in the van.

This are the Elfine's socks by Anna Bell. It's a free pattern which you may find here. I knit them in the Socks That Rock Spinel colorway. Here's a tighter detail of the picture above, and this color is a bit more true. These took about a month to knit, alternating with another project or two.This is only my third pair of socks, and I'm really pleased with them. I discovered that knitting plain socks doesn't suit me at all; too boring! But this was fun, so I'm looking forward to my next pair. Right now I'm knitting a Christmas stocking, but no pictures till it's done. Be patient, my little chickadees!

In a spirit of fun which, let's face it, is the best spirit of all, next to rum, I thought I'd share....

This weekend my mom and sister Joyce were in town for the annual birthday dinner for Mom and I (mine was Friday and face it, you sent NOTHING) and we went shopping. Well duh. So- we're stopped a light, and the little chippy in the pickup next to us has some noxious crap passing for music rudely blaring out her truck windows. Mom grumbles, and I said, "Hey, Mom (I call her that), turn your music up and drown her out!" When was the last time YOU heard Johnny Mathis cranked up, pouring out of car windows? I laughed my @$$ off!

The real kicker is that after we had our giggle and turned the music back down, the chippy had cut hers back too! I suspect good ole Johnny won her over. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Doh!

One of the types of photography we do in our business is sports, including action work. Usually we go out, take pictures of the kids playing, then have the edited shots printed, and take them to the field and sell them toward the end of the season. Once we've sold at the field, we also put the images online to garner additional sales. This isn't just good for us...think of the bitterly divorced parents you know - Dad snaps up all the pictures before Mom can get there, and you KNOW he's not sharing. Or Grandma lives at the other end of the country but wants to get pictures too.

We hand out flyers as we shoot telling people what we're doing. We enclose flyers in the envelopes with the pictures we sell too. It tells them specifically that the password-protected photos will be available online after a certain date. So of course we get the semi-literate dweebs who call us three weeks before we even sell the photos, complaining that they cannot find them online. Yeesh.

But today the DH shared an email that had us both in stitches. A lady wrote in, wanting to know how to find the football pictures of her son online. The DH sent her a list of instructions, ending with "enter the password shown." The woman writes back a few days later saying she still can't get into the pictures, because the website wouldn't accept the password when she typed in "shown."

I laughed till I cried, but that wasn't the kicker. Oh, no. As DH checked the rest of his email, he found an order from her! Can't you just SEE the lightbulb going off, and her desperately wishing she could retrieve her prior email?

I can, and it's absolutely made my day. LOL!

I Feel You Should Know...

...I'm going to hell. Not a question any longer of "if", but merely "when?"

Very sadly, the husband of a member of one of my knitting lists succumbed to the H1N1 virus last week. It hit him very hard, he had to be on a respirator, and then he died. Everyone has naturally been expressing their condolences.

Today, a kind-hearted list member (so you know it was not I), wrote to say how sorry she was, and added that she understood, because she "lost" her husband three years ago. And the FIRST thought to cross my mind was, "Well, that was damned careless of you, wasn't it?"

So, yes, I'm going to hell. And if you laughed, I'll see you there.