“Love is the answer.
At least for most of the questions in my heart. Like: “Why are we here?”,
“And where do we go?”, “And how come it’s so hard?”.
It’s not always easy,
And sometimes life can be deceiving
I’ll tell you one thing:
It’s always better when we’re together.”

Jack Johnson


Casting Off, casting on


Autumn is most definitely here; you can feel in the fresh air, the morning breeze that makes my nose twitch and my toes curls. I wake up with Sammy, we head outside and I need to remind him there are socks that need to be worn, it’s cold outside, baby.

Literally, baby.

But he will have none of it, he heads straight to his dirt box and uncovers it, that look of achievement staring straight at me as if saying “Look mom, I got it!”… Who am I kidding, he looks very proud, he is totally showing off.

I make breakfast, in between heading out and coming back in, and he has enough energy for the both of us. Me, I am tired, still sleepy but can’t help but smile.

While trying to eat – as Sammy is now very fond of taking away my bread – I realize I’ve made plans for a knitted jacket for him, but not for an item I’ve used previously, and plenty of. Cardigans.

I knitted 3 Puerperium cardigans for him and started two more than were never finished – he outgrew my knitting! – but in between Spring and Summer, I neglected the fact that Autumn would come again – thank God! – and he would need a new batch of cardies.

Which brings me here, as I knit him a striped – obviously – cardigan in cotton yarn, something that is not too hot but still warm enough for these early fresh mornings.


I wasn’t sure about this yellow but after placing it next to the blue I decided to give it a go, and so far, I like the result.

As for the other project that got off the needles, as I’m committed to not start a project without finishing the previous, I am rather happy with how it turned out. I only had the one skein of yarn so that pretty much dictated the size of the shawl and I finished it just a tiny left over thread. The color is fantastic and it was called Fog. So, it’s perfect.


I’m not going to block it because I want to it to stretch out, I did the same with the knitted blankets and I really like how it takes a life of its own.

Now, if you were to ask if there is a project already waiting after I finish the little striped cardigan, the answer is a resounding YES.

Of course.

Lilo claimed it.  A poncho.

|| Handwork / WIP Wednesday ||

{Every Wednesday, a work-in-progress or finished piece of handwork }


So here’s a new pattern that i’ve noticed lately; I want to get back to blogging, I tell the words in my head and once a week I try to write and update from the week. More often than not it ends up as a Draft but there is one that I’ve been accomplishing, the Wip Wednesday.

Yes, my good readers, this is beginning to take shape. I thought about having themes every day, that that should take the pressure off writing so i’m slowly working on that, be it Home, Handwork, Homeschool, Garden… see, it practically writes itself. But for now, if Wednesday is all I can get out, I sure am going to rejoice on it.

It’s hard this Motherhood deal, fun but hard. Mostly because there just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for what needs to be done but also for what I want to do. So there must be a compromise and a lot of self nurturing. Some of it – most of it – coming in the form of not listening to evil mouth people and finding your own good people. Those who understand and feel the same without judging. We mothers do that very well on our own without help, thank you.

And in that, came a cousin, living far far away, in farm land, who happens to be very much like me. And even though I’m grieving that she is so far – or that I am in the wrong place – I am also making an effort to stay connected to her. An effort that comes at zero effort, does that make sense? I try to talk to her regularly, I think of her when I don’t find time to do so – so my happy thoughts reach her as a hug-. And I picked up this pattern which we are knitting it at the same time. These are small ways to remain connected to her.

I’m getting closer to the end of the yarn so maybe this will be a smaller-than-most shawl. Either way, i’m already planning to cast on a new one.

Aprons and shawls, a girl can never have too many of those.

Ravelry notes here and pattern can be found here .

The birth story of Sammy


Dear Sammy

This is your birth story. I am happy to be writing this and still remember most of the details, it was a simple birth and I thank you for choosing me as your Momma.

For the record, I reckon that was a crazy decision but hey, you must know something I don’t so I’m gonna work hard to be the Momma you know I am.


Happy birthday.

It began on Friday morning, the counting, the nodding of the head “Yes, I think this must be it.” It must have started on Thursday but something told me you would come on Saturday so I didn’t take notice. But by Friday afternoon, we were well on our way. I have that piece of paper, with the minutes, all of them saying it was time. But let me tell you, I was knitting your infamous grey and orange jumpsuit, you know, the one you wore everyday until it didn’t fit you. I kinda wanted to finish it – I didn’t – before giving birth. The entire day went by and by night time it was either rest or go to the hospital, I went for rest because contractions were so far apart, I knew we would get bored there, with nothing to do. So in between knitting, I talked to you. I asked if you were ready and I told you I was. I was scared, I didn’t know if I was strong enough but I was ready.

When the contractions went up to five minutes apart I knew it was time. I didn’t want to go (it was starting to rain) but I knew it was time. The clock was telling me so.

6 am and we left the house, actually it was 5.45. But we got to the Hospital around 6, and this is the part where I leave out all the paperwork that needs to be done, the waiting and the changing of clothes. Your wife will one day tell you that this is the boring-must-be-done part. I believe it’s a way to calm ourselves, in the panic of “There’s a baby on the way!”, if there is time to answer questions, change clothes and wait, trust me, you wait. You take notice of how dark the room is, how nice it feels, unlike the usual Hospital brightness, it feels like a state of sleep. But you can’t sleep. You need to put on crazy Hospital shoes.

And then you’re off to the Birth Room.

Now that, is where the magic happens. I was sure there had been music before but couldn’t remember, and sure enough comes the midwife and asks “Would you like music?” Oh dear son of mine, I do not remember the music.

What I remember is looking at the clock at 8.45am and thinking “This is it.” The midwife asked me what position felt best and with insane back pain somehow we managed a good, perfect position that felt as natural as it could. You were making your way, oh dear. I pushed and faded, so my body took over. I knew I was too tired.

She told me to hold on to the contraction and I tried to explain I didn’t have any strength left in me, but my body did. Then came the words “Mother, I know you can do this. And you have to do this NOW. Because the doctors are coming and they will do it their way.”

Say no more, dear midwife. She knew I didn’t want drugs, helpers, interventions, nothing but me, her and the baby. And she looked straight into me and gave me strength.

So I pushed. And she told me one more would do it. And it did.

Except it happened so fast that she had to yell “Wait! STOP!”

“I can’t, my body is doing it by itself.” I’m being serious here. I stopped pushing midway through the contraction, exhaled and all. But my body kept on going and pushed you out. In one go.

“Well…” She sighted. “I can’t push him back in now. Let’s bring him out.”

With a smile, she handed me you. Your tiny wrinkled self.


It was a good birth Sammy Cakes, you did good, my body did good. You make me realize things I had no idea I could still accomplish and you have been a good sport making my dreams come true. Be them in the form of simply cooking you soup or bathing you in the sink.


Thank you for choosing me. And yes, you were born on a Saturday.