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Fist things first, I have updated my shop with a few new things…a custom spinning service, and a new SALE hand spun yarn. I am spinning my little heart out, working on getting examples up of how some of my colorways spin up. Then it will be getting them knit up so you can see how they look when knit.
Now, for the giveaway…
October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. As many of you know, breast cancer has touched my life in ways I never thought possible. I lost my Mom (that is her up on the very top on the left sidebar) 25 months ago to breast cancer. My Grandma and my Great Aunt are breast cancer survivors.
This year, I have a special edition colorway in honor of breast cancer awareness month. It is called “Second Base“. Right now I only have the roving in my shop (which I would love to spin up for you!) because I am giving away one full skein of my handspun yarn to one lucky reader! I do have another giveaway in the works for spinners out there, so stay tuned!
“Second Base” Special Edition hand dyed hand spun yarn by A Tree Hugger’s Wife.
127 yards
100% Merino Wool (this will felt so hand wash & air dry)
3.7 ounces / 105 grams
Dyed with professional acid dyes
Want to win it? Well, just leave me a comment telling me what your favorite color combination(s) is/are. I am looking for 2 or 3 colors. I might even name a colorway after you! I will draw a number on Saturday and announce the winner then. Your comment post is your number.
Peace.
One year ago today, I watched my Mom take her last breath. I had been mulling over what to say about today for quite a while, but in the end all I really want to say is that I miss my Mom. I think that it is even more painful because I was her only child, her daughter. Mothers and daughters have different relationships to begin with and being an only child made it that much more interesting.
Jim bought me the little Willow Tree figurine yesterday. It is “Remember: Always I Will Remember”.
Earlier today I was thinking about the day that Mom died. In a way it was a sort of relief. A relief that she was no longer strugging, in pain and living a life that she would have not wanted. A relief that she didn’t have to keep up a brave face to me and keep telling me that she was going to live another 15 years when it was obvious that she wasn’t. A relief that I didn’t have to dance around the “death” subject and pretend that she would get better. A relief that I felt like I didn’t have to try to keep it all together anymore. But I didn’t really lose it right then when she died.
She died at 7:30 that morning. By the time hospice, other family members, her pastor, and the funeral home came to the house it was close to 11 am. We picked up a little bit around the house and then the majority of the people at the house decided that we should all go to the bar where Mom had worked as a bookkeeper/bartender and have a drink in her honor. “It is what she would have wanted,” was what everyone kept telling me. Reluctantly I agreed to go, and agreed to meet everyone there in a “little while”. Once the house was empty, I picked up her little Papillon, and carried her around the house, just wandering around and thinking. I wondered if I would ever return to the house and think of it as “Mom’s house” or if it would then just be my Step-Dad’s. I wondered if it would have the same essence that her house always had. Mom’s houses always felt like home even though she moved every few years and I hadn’t lived with her in over 10 years. I wondered if it would smell the same without her. I wondered how I would go on after losing her. After a while, I got in the car (still holding the dog) and drove to the bar. BTH had gone home with my Grandparents earlier so that I could take care of a few things.
I walked into the bar (which is a little hole in the wall place) and there was my family, all gathered together, celebrating Mom and remembering her with their own stories. When I was asked what I wanted to drink, I could only think of one drink to have. A Dewar’s on the rocks. It was what Mom drank when she celebrated. Special occasions only. Otherwise she would drink a Vodka Gimlet if she was out at a bar, or a glass of wine or a beer at home. When I was told that the bar where she used to work didn’t have Dewar’s (this is a hole in the wall afterall), that is when I lost it. Why that set me off, I don’t know. But it did. I didn’t want a Gimlet, I didn’t want a glass of wine, I didn’t want a beer. I wanted a Dewar’s on the rocks, damn it. Since I couldn’t have that, I had a Sprite. Yeah, a plain Sprite. I had my one Sprite and I left. I didn’t feel like I belonged. I just couldn’t manage to sit there and drink with everyone.
I think that is one of those crazy-not-entirely-significant moments that we remember forever.
I did end up having that Dewar’s. One week later at the luncheon after her memorial service. And since I can’t have a Dewar’s to remember her by today (I am 24 weeks pregnant), I plan on having one for her birthday in February and one next year on September 14. I have to catch up.
I love you, Mom. And I will always remember our story.
Peace.
One year ago today, an ambulance followed me for almost two hours to my mother’s home. My mother was in the back of the ambulance, a shell of the woman that she had been.
She was coming home to die.
8 days later, she was gone. At age 50.
I can’t believe how much time has passed already and how different my life is.
I miss her every single day of my life and dream about her at night.
And boy, is she ever pissed off. I often wonder what the dream interpreter people would have to say about my dreams.
(The lady at the top left hand side is my Mom before metastatic breast cancer, sometimes people assume it is me.)
Peace.
