I started a sweater for Miss Moppet using the MIUASG pattern (make it up as you go). Literally, I had to guess at how many stitches to cast on. It has raglan sleeves (well, the beginnings of sleeves...), an empire waist, and a fuller lower half. I also worked in some lace. I'm going to end the hem and cuffs with this picot hem. This is by far the thinnest yarn (super fine) I've used for a garment for someone larger than 6 inches tall. It's Loops & Threads, "Woolike" in Beige, Cool Grey, and Teal Lake. I'm thinking shell buttons when it's all done. I think it will turn out nicely, but time will tell. (c:
My Mother-in-law gave me Ghost Boy to read during our recent trip to see her. I've nearly finished it. Here's the summary from Amazon:
In January 1988 Martin Pistorius, aged twelve, fell inexplicably sick. First he lost his voice and stopped eating. Then he slept constantly and shunned human contact. Doctors were mystified. Within eighteen months he was mute and wheelchair-bound. Martin's parents were told an unknown degenerative disease left him with the mind of a baby and less than two years to live.This passage near the beginning really grabbed me:
Martin was moved to care centers for severely disabled children. The stress and heartache shook his parents’ marriage and their family to the core. Their boy was gone. Or so they thought.
Ghost Boy is the heart-wrenching story of one boy’s return to life through the power of love and faith. In these pages, readers see a parent’s resilience, the consequences of misdiagnosis, abuse at the hands of cruel caretakers, and the unthinkable duration of Martin’s mental alertness betrayed by his lifeless body.
We also see a life reclaimed—a business created, a new love kindled—all from a wheelchair. Martin's emergence from his own darkness invites us to celebrate our own lives and fight for a better life for others.
I was completely entombed. The only person who knew there was a boy within the useless shell was God, and I had no idea why I felt His presence so strongly. I wasn't exposed to the rituals and traditions of worshiping Him at church and knew that I hadn't been before my illness because my family, although they believed in God, didn't attend. Yet somehow I instinctively knew that He was with me as my mind knitted itself back together. At times it felt confusing to be surrounded by people, utterly alone and yet aware that God was my companion. Yet my faith didn't waver. He was as present to me as air, as constant as breathing.I recommend it. Great book, and rather a horrifying wake-up call to think how many people may be similarly "entombed".
What are you reading and creating?