Jonny’s story


(My husband, Jonny, is writing here today.)

Last Friday evening, while Ginny had the big boys at piano lessons, I was left at home in charge of the littles.  The girls were occupied somewhere with something, and Ninny Man was with me while I cooked a delectable dinner of Red Lentil Coconut Soup and Roasted Cauliflower.  (He’s ever so helpful…always wanting to stir or throw something into the pot).  Once I had everything under control I decided to review the math test Gabe had taken earlier that morning.  Ninny headed out the back door to the mud pie kitchen.  I was keeping one eye on him and the other on the test.  When the test became complicated and I had to perform three digit addition, I was momentarily side tracked with the mental mathematical manipulation and lost sight of the little guy.  I quickly and ever so efficiently threw down the test and raced out the back door to locate the quick footed Ninny Man.

“YAAAAA YAAAAA!”, I called…wait for a response….none…try again…”YAAAAA YAAAAAAAAAA!…again nothing.  (I’ll quickly explain…normally, when I call “YA YA”…rhymes with “Ha Ha”…Ninny Pants will respond with a “YA YA” and I can locate him easily among the trash outside.)

At this point I started to panic a little, although I had only looked down for a total of 5 or 6 seconds before he disappeared, and I knew he really couldn’t have physically made it with his funny toddler run around the house, out the gate, down the driveway and to the road.

Let me detour here again to explain the basis for my panic.  Last summer, when we were all outside gardening, Ginny asked for some compost.  So, I had the boys watch Silas for a bit so I could take a couple of loads of compost to the garden where she was working.  They put him in the wagon and proceeded to take him for rides around the yard.  After dumping the first or second load, I noticed the boys having a good time playing with the wagon, but with no Ninny Man around.

“Boys…where is Silas?”

“He’s with Lark.”

“LARRRK!  Is Silas with you?”

“Nooo.”

Panic…the boys have neglected to keep an eye on Ninny Man…the gate is open…no Silas in sight…I hear a vehicle approaching.  I take off for the road and run out a little into the lane in which a monster truck is driving…I look to the right and to the left but don’t see Silas (there is a hill just before our driveway, it’s a blind spot, cars cannot see over the hill).  Because I am in the road, the jacked up monster F-350 with the giant mud bogging tires swerves to the other lane and drives on by.  At this point I look back to my right and what do I see?  A toddler standing about 3 feet in the road, just on the back side of the hill.  Basically, had I not run into the road when I did, the truck wouldn’t have changed lanes and …anyway, awful awful thought…I couldn’t shake it for weeks…still can’t…I am always making sure the fence is closed and I have since installed a more secure latch.

Back to the current story…Silas couldn’t have made it to the road, but I still panicked a little and ran to the front to verify the gate was closed and that he wasn’t headed that way.  All was well in the front yard and no sign of Ninny Man.  So I went to the back and tried again.

“YAAAA YAAAA!”

Wait a second, was that a muffled sound?

“YAAAA YAAAA!”…Yes!  That was a muffled “Ya Ya”…in the direction of the chicken coop.

I headed to the coop…looked in the run but didn’t see him.  Then, I noticed the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.  Cuter than a baby lop eared bunny…cuter than a baby lop eared bunny playing with a fuzzy little kitty (and that’s darn cute!)

Ninny Man was crawling out of the little door to the chicken house with an egg in each hand.  He also had one sitting just inside the door that he had collected and was planning to go back for.  All I could see were his fat little hands holding the eggs and his cute as a button face.  He looked at me, said “Abujewaya,” and smiled.  I picked him up, made sure he wasn’t covered in chicken poo, and gave him a little kiss on his pudgy cheek.

“Abujewaya,” I replied.

Wish you could have been there…Ninny Man collecting eggs on his own…so adorable.

p.s.  (Hi!  It’s Ginny here.)  When Jonny told me he wanted to share a cute story here, I had no idea he was going to include what happened last summer.  As I read his words, I reacted immediately by telling him, “We can’t talk about that.”  But he and I decided that we would.  The memory of that day has been a difficult thing for Jonny to carry and I try not to think about it myself.  I think that maybe he needed to write it down.

p.p.s.  I took these photos of Silas yesterday,  I wanted pictures of the hat I knit him over the weekend.  The only way he would wear it, was if I let him go visit the chickens.  These days, that’s where he wants to be.  Unfortunately, Silas gathering eggs means broken eggs.  We’re working on that.  I knit his hat using leftover yarn that I dyed last year to knit him a whale for his birthday.  The day he received his whale, he headed straight for the chicken coop with that too.  He knows what he wants.  In the photos above Silas is playing a little peek a boo and a little “How big is Silas?”  “So big!!!”  We love him so much.

Yarn Along (special guest post)

~ Two of my favorite things are knitting and reading, and the evidence of this often shows up in my photographs.  I love seeing what other people are knitting and reading as well. So, what are you knitting or crocheting right now? What are you reading? Take a photo and share it either on your blog or on Flickr. Leave a link below to share your photo with the rest of us! ~

Yarn Along

Hello Ladies.  Jonny here.  That’s right.  Now it makes sense doesn’t it?  When you first looked at the picture you were thinking, “Wow, Ginny’s knitting sure is a little frumpy this week”.  But, now you’re thinking, “Wow, that sure is some nice knitting for a really handsome, tough, sensitive, creative, brave and smart man”.  And, you would be right.  It is some nice knitting.

So, I’ve started knitting.  I’ve tried it before.  I once tried to knit a dishcloth with some peaches and cream (I know that you know what I’m talking about…but, I really want to add that it’s a cotton yarn although Ginny has assured me that it would be frivolous).   Anyway, I hated it.  I wanted to throw it at some point because my stiches were so uneven.  Some were loose, some were tight.  It was a horrible scene all around.  But, throwing it wouldn’t have even given me the satisfaction I was looking for.  Yarn doesn’t make a big loud noise when it hits the wall.  The needles may have made a small “tink”, but that would have hardly been worth the effort.  So, I frogged that mutha!  All the way back to nothing.  And it felt so right.

Fast forward to now.  I’ve been convinced by a rather extraordinary woman to pick it up again.  Truthfully, I want to do it so that she’ll think I’m cute.  But, I won’t tell her that.  I’ll let her think I’m doing it because there’s nothing better than the feel of a good worsted weight yarn (Ginny here.  He’s knitting with Blue Sky Alpacas organic cotton) on the needles.  So, for the past week I’ve been knitting.  And let me tell you something.  I’m quite the knitter now.  After trying many different ways to hold the string in my right hand, I’ve come up with a way to wrap it around my “tall man” finger two times that gives me the feel of control I need so I can apply proper tension to get consistent stiches.  My first project was cast on by the aforementioned extraordinary woman and handed over to me.  I battled with the knit stich and conquered it.  The extraordinary woman taught me how to bind off.  I battled with it some more.  I couldn’t really figure out how to use my left hand differently than when doing the knit stich.   But, I persevered, and I ended up with a really nice edge.  My first Finished Object!

I now have another dishcloth on the needles.  Keats taught me how to cast on.  So, I’ll be working on that one now.  I guess I’ll need to start a Ravelry page soon….

I’ve been reading the same book for a while, Confessions of a Bad Beekeeper.  This guy seems to be an English version of myself; it’s easy to be a moron.  Although, I haven’t been stung on the ear just yet.

So, because I’m totally dying to know, what are you peeps reading and knitting?

 

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