Love Letter

Hi my Nan,

How are you today?  I couldn't let the day go by without a big hello and hug from me.  And with today being your birthday, well, it has to be an extra big hug and hello.  All of your family and friends are here with me and we're all celebrating you today and remembering how special you are.  And because you are so special to me, I wanted to write you this letter to let you and everyone know how wonderful our story is, and how thankful I am for you.

Think of this letter as one of a string of the emails we would exchange throughout our day.  This one might be a little longer than the one you wrote to me on September 15, 2008 at 10:16 pm that simply said, "thinking of you... hoping all is well... love you always, Nan"

And the subject matter of this letter might be a little more serious than when you emailed, "just bought 7 items in Filenes Basement for $127... not bad eh? xoxoxo" on July 27, 2007 at 11:55 am.

I also hope that as you hear this letter it will cause far less confusion on your end than on mine when on April 27, 2006 at 9:29 am you wrote, "Hi my hon... just heard the most interesting news... a cat in China just gave birth to a puppy.  The rest of the litter were kittens.  Now how funny is that. xoxoxo" 

But just like all of those emails, this letter helps me say hello to you and let you know in this free minute of my day that I'm thinking of you and wanting to connect with you even though we may be in different places.  The beautiful thing about correspondence like this letter or our emails is that the feelings written within them never fade and that each time stamp has the ability to record a moment in our story so well.  So whenever either one of us is missing the other, we can reread them and be reminded of all the xoxoxo's exchanged throughout the years.

This is how Juliet began her eulogy for Marlene on July 1, 2009 in front of family and friends.  

This letter is not meant to grieve your passing or to dwell on the awful sickness that took you from us.  While those are all important emotions that I and everyone here have no doubt felt, this is my love letter to you, one in which I get the chance to reflect back to you all the love you've given me over the last 29 years, and express my gratitude for having had you in my life.  I know that with all the love and gratitude I am shining on you – that we are all shining on you today – you will be the brightest and most radiant Nan out there, visible to everyone in this chapel and beyond, and will continue to shine as long as we remember.

If I were to explain the story of you and me to someone else, I would have to divide it into 3 chapters.  The first chapter would be about the first way that I knew you:  as my grandmother.  You made everything special.  You let me have Fruit Roll-ups when my parents would not.  You brought me to Canobie Lake Park and Water Country in the summertime.  And when we played miniature golf you stood with your feet positioned so that my ball would always land in the hole no matter how bad my aim.  You spoiled me on holidays and at birthdays. You loved whatever gift I presented to you at Christmas and always said, "Well this will have to go in a very special place in my house."  And it always did.  You took me bathing suit shopping every spring.  I can't get rid of any of them, so seriously, I have a drawer full of like 15 or so.  You always sent me a valentine.  For my 25th birthday you gave up your engagement ring and allowed my mom to use the stone for the necklace I'm wearing today.  And together with my parents, you were my biggest fan, and supported me when I decided to change careers.

As our story continued and I grew older, I got to know you in a different way.  You were still always my grandmother, and became my friend.  However unconventional it was for a grandmother and granddaughter to become real friends, we didn't care.  We enjoyed each other's company.  We could talk about anything and keep each other's secrets.  We would have one of our little chats, as you named them, over lunch or on our way to the movies.  You accepted me for who I was, and it was a rare day that we didn't talk on the phone or email.  We gossiped, traded tips on which store had the best jeans or which actress had the best haircut.  We danced together at family parties, toasted over glasses of wine, had spa day, and when we quarreled, which was rare, you would wait until I was done with my rant, look at me, pause for a second, smile and say, "You know, I really just love the way you did your eye makeup today my hon.  You must show me how you did that."  And at that moment all I could do was smile back, forgetting whatever I had been mad about, and tell you that I used brown pencil instead of just powder.

The latest chapter in our story started not long before you got sick and is the role that I know will continue to live on.  Nursing school was especially stressful for me and I was living alone in New York for the majority of it.  Whenever I had an exam or assignment that would stress me out I would tell you and you would say, "Well don't worry.  I'm your guardian angel and will send lots of good vibes from Massachusetts while you're taking your test, so it will surely go well."  It sounds crazy, but it always worked.  If I was stuck on a particular question all I had to do was stop, take a deep breath and know you were thinking of me.  You once wrote, "Hi my hon, tonight is the big exam.  I got up especially early this morning to start sending you good vibes, so you will have nothing to worry about."  I surely would never have made it through school without you.  If it's okay, I'll still think of you as my guardian angel, only now you aren't so far from me.

And so my Nan, though my heart is broken knowing that our little chats over lunch and birthday celebrations will now exist only in my memory, I feel better thinking of you in a brighter place; that you are relaxed, comfortable, and free from pain and nausea.  I know where ever you are, you have a big glass of white wine with ice cubes and are listening to Willie Nelson or Whitney Houston.  Maybe you have just completed a long walk by the water and have noticed all the birds and fish along the way, or perhaps have just finished up 30 minutes on your rowing machine and are energized to start your day. Maybe you are seated at a table on the porch with Fafa at sunset and are catching up with your parents and brother on all the events they've missed since you last saw them.  Or maybe you are even trading stories with Farrah Fawcett, someone you've felt connected to, who shares your beauty and your strength.  Where ever you are, please know this.  I think of you every day and keep you with me always.  You are my grandmother, my friend, and my heart.  I only hope that one day, I am fortunate enough to share with my granddaughter a love as special and true as ours.

My daughter takes my breath away.  So does Marlene.

Farrah published 6/1/2017.

She loved Lucy

My design ideas have been coming up in pairs lately, where discoveries made in the first spawn revisions and additions in the next.  And although I do enjoy the opportunity to go back at the math and construction in a second go-round, I admit that it hadn't been my initial plan.  It's just what happened along the way and accounts for the lame naming of Brooklyn2 following the previously published Brooklyn – alas.  

So when I saw it happening again in my current design duet I decided to get out in front of it by determining a family sourced name pair from the start.

M&B 1951-pdf.jpg

This is a favorite family photo – my parents, Bern and Marlene on the left, with my aunt Kay and uncle Clem (aka Junior or Luke) at a night club somewhere.  I enjoy this point-in-time glimpse into their lives, and imagining them then.  It's 1951, Marlene was 20 and working full-time at a Boston insurance company.  They married the following year.  

I remember Dad would happily recount how she'd laugh out loud watching I Love Lucy on TV during those years and I like to think of that.  Watching those early episodes gives great insight into the society of the times and the roles of men and women – a time when a clear hierarchy existed between the sexes. During those years most women gave up jobs and became homemakers after marriage, but Marlene wanted a career.  So bucking the tide and amidst some gossip (I'm told), she continued working.  By the time of her retirement years later she had become a beloved fixture and integral member of the staff of the Harvard Athletic Department.

I know she never felt that she had achieved the career status she wished for, but she was definitely ahead of her time.  I hope she found pride in that, and for being a terrific role model for me – this yet another in the myriad of things I should have told her.

Lucy and Ethel – 2 button-less garter stitch cardigans with shrug and wrap-around variations – are currently underway.  Updates to follow.

 

Update – Lucy published 2/22/2017 followed by Ethel on 3/1/2017.

Brooklyn

Amidst the myriad of changes that have happened in 2016 – the birth of my granddaughter (oh hooray!) and the presidential election (omg!), to name a few – is another, worthy of note.  My daughter sold her Brooklyn co-op.

She bought it a while after graduating from college.  At the time there were good reasons for her to move there – a job opportunity, friends in Manhattan, new adventures; and some undeniable reasons for procrastination – the unknowns of a new job and city, leaving the comfort of family, and most of all, living alone.  I knew she was up to it, and admired, I suppose, the freedom for reinvention she had at that stage of her life.  So, in response to her announcement that she would move only if she purchased a place, off we went.  That weekend we made the trip, found her co-op, she made an offer, and the deal was done. Unexpected? – oh yes. 

That was 2005.  I remember our surreal drive from Boston for her move, and making our way back home without her.  Marlene used to say that our children bring us along and I balked then at the concept.  I see the truth to it now.  She moved in and never looked back.  As for me, I got the gift of seeing my daughter flourish and visited as often as I could without becoming a nuisance, happily experiencing this new, now favorite city for myself.  Yes, I've definitely been brought along. 

Where will she take me next?  Where ever it is, I'm in.


Continuing my homage to life events – pattern writing for my latest knit design, a cardigan named Brooklyn, is currently underway.  Publication is planned for next week, updates to follow.

Update – Brooklyn published 11/30/2016.

Nans

Now that I'm a grandmother I've been thinking more about being one.  Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me before this – my daughter becoming a mom took precedence over all of my thinking.  

In the few weeks before new baby Violet's birth, and during the several that have followed, I've been asked what she will call me – hmm, more uncharted territory. Does one pick a name, or is it chosen for her. My google search yielded:

Modern names for grandmothers include Ama, GoGo, Gigi and Mimi. Grandmothers choose modern names to symbolize that they are young and cool, and avoid traditional names such as Granny and Grandma. They choose unique names to distinguish themselves from other grandmothers.

And being young and cool...  one of my pals has started calling me Gigi.  I find this hysterical.

From postcard correspondence I see that Marlene's grandmother was Nana.  My own was Nanny.  I don't know how either name came to be and Mum's gone now so I can't ask. (Regrettably, this happens a lot.  I thought I knew it all.)  

Mum was a Nanny too, that got shortened to Nan later on by her then adult granddaughter.

hoss-welch-bw-smaller-crop.jpg

So for now, I guess I'll be a Nanny or Nana or Nan, until Violet decides. I'm sure she'll pick one that rings just right.

Meanwhile, a cardigan – Nan – honoring all of us, is forthcoming, and currently being tested by glorious knitters.  Estimated publishing date is set for late October 2016. 

Update – Nan published 10/27/2016.

Paper toys 2016

The Hoss clan had dinner together last night, celebrating Ellie and Mark as they get ready to head back home to West Virginia after our usual summer of fun.  With all of us in attendance it was the perfect setting to distribute this year's paper toys for holiday giving assignments, so I hustled to get them done, finishing up finally on the car ride to Scituate. 

The panorama that wraps each was taken at one of our parties on Ellie and Mark's ocean-view front porch, and hints at the happy craziness that's gone on there over the years. 

But this time their departure is different.  They're packing up everything and clearing out – on to new adventures.  After a lifetime of ownership they've sold their cottage and won't be returning to it.  They will, however, be returning to us, for more happy crazy times, where ever we are.  We'll make sure of that. 

B is for Betsy


Yes, I'm definitely feeling nostalgic these days.  Looking backward while moving forward – my usual state – has been made more-so by a combination of summer dreaming, impending grand-motherhood, and my significant family tree research of late now that son-in-law James has introduced his additional and excitingly deep lineage to explore.  I'm channeling Dad (Bernard Henry) now in my effort to get our family history documented, all neat and tidy for our new baby girl.  BH would surely approve.

So recently, while conjuring up a new knit, the spirit of my great aunt Lillian Hildegarde joined in. B is for Betsy was her chapter book gift to my mum Marlene in the 1940's, that eventually made its way to me in the 60's, and then to Juliet in the 80's.  Its current state, as shown, now complete with the markings from 3 generations of bedtime reading and a vintage DYMO embossed ownership label (I found its name on the internet), has over the years provided hours of parent-child quality time, the familiar names of all of our pets, and most recently that of my latest knit design, just published.

Flipping through its pages while preparing this post I came across its chapter 8 – How Betsy Went to Pick Violets and Got Into Trouble.  I had to laugh.  Could this book have been the subliminal source of my new granddaughter's name as well??  Okay, kidding – since its source is obviously the heavenly reach of Juliet's paternal grandmother, Lavalie Bixby Hoss, who long ago claimed the flower as her favorite.  It all makes perfect sense to me.  That's how I roll.

V is for Violet Mae, born August 6th – my future sweater model, or protégé perhaps, if she'll agree.

You & You Too.

I've got a new knit design underway, a pair of cowls, and the set needs a name – a task I sometimes find more challenging than working out the design itself. Keeping consistent in combining my interests (all my designs' names have a family link), I turned once again to Marlene's archives – this time, specifically, her greeting card collection. She kept them all, every one she ever received, or so it seems.  

Years ago, while taking stock of her possessions, I had grouped these, tied them up with twine, and stashed them in the plastic bins that now occupy the corner of my workroom. My knit-design-name-searching gives me reason and motivation to revisit these bundles, and doing so I often rediscover family events I've forgotten or learn things I never knew. This time, among valentines and birthday cards, I came across 3 postcards, out of place – from Dad.  

As a young man Dad worked in a sheet metal shop at the Charlestown Navy Yard. He made pipe fittings. I'm not exactly sure what these are, but over time he parlayed this work experience, coupled with his innate neatness and attention to detail, and moved from the making of these things to the planning of their placement on big naval ships. By the 1970's he found himself traveling to ports around the world on shipchecks.

I miss my girls too much to be away alone. They were 20 years into their marriage by then. I was 17. He didn't travel without her again. The very next month photos find them together in London, the next year in Rome and Paris, and in the years that followed in many more European and Island destinations. It's nice to see them smiling back at me in the photo below, from somewhere in Italy. They lived well, and happily.

M&B naples travel 2 resized.jpg

Its name now known, my cowl set – You & You Too – is forthcoming. I'll update this post and send out a tweet upon its release.

Update – You & You Too published 5/13/2016.

Miss Me Yet?

The name of my latest design (almost literally) fell into my lap as I was working with Mum's postcards.  While sorting through I found this one among them – a message from then teen-aged Marlene, writing home to her family.  

Always on the lookout for a family story to apply to my knits, the irresistible Miss Me Yet became its name even before any of its design details came into view. Then most of these came easily too.  And that never happens.

Still swooning over the quince & co. cotton yarn I used for the remake of May, the single skein remaining from that project called to me.  I ordered more and Miss Me Yet used up every last bit.  

Juliet's Openwork Mitts spawned its lace.  The stitch count repeat in multiples of 6 was easily translated to the rib trim variations of its hems, pocket tops, and button lap, and provided elegant hiding places for the invisible shaping of its bodice.  

Knit in the round, from the cuffs up, I worked out something entirely new while shaping the sleeves.  Increasing only 1 stitch on the round instead of 2 eliminated the visual jog, spiraled nicely, and was an easier story for knitters trying to follow my directions – something I value as much as the design itself.

The stitch pick-up count of a button lap is often more science than art.  Too many stitches and it bulges badly, too few and it pulls upward.  Aiming at just right I had the additional self-imposed mandates of a count that was divisible by 3 (to match the rhythm of the lace) plus 2 more (for a clean edge), and 4 buttonholes that needed to be spaced evenly from v-neck base to hem.  In addition to all of this, but held on the way-back burner for the moment, was my wish that as the 3x3 ribbing joined with the back neckline, its sequence would match the pattern of the stitches that were held there.  Too much to ask?  Mathematically possible, but in my experience, unlikely – and yet all of this, including the long-shot of the back neckline segue, worked out on my very first try for all 7 sizes.  

Serendipity?  Sure, but in this case I prefer to employ a bit of magical thinking.  

8 glorious test knitters from New Jersey, Texas, Washington, Denmark, Germany, and India are working as I write this to prove out my calculations and check my text. I'll plan to publish in late April once they're done.  

I have a good feeling about this one, an angel on my shoulder.  And to answer the question posed by its title – yes, Marlene, we surely do.

Update – Miss Me Yet published 4/23/2016.

The collector

I discovered Marlene's postcard album when I was going through her things.  I was in a hurry then so bundled them up, and they've been sitting on my shelf since. Recently I circled back.

She collected postcards when she was a girl during the 1940's and continued through the 50's.  It was either the rage to send cards back then or widely known that she collected, since there are several hundred in the bunch.  Probably both are true.  She had them to and from friends and family (among them Hattie, Hilda, Mildred, Martha, and Mitzi – for those who follow my sweater designs). 

All delightfully vintage and visually interesting for that, of equal treasure, especially for me, are their backs.  I saw where they lived through delivery addresses and their hand in their writing.  Reading through I met my mum as a girl and a teenager, and my grandmother Mildred younger than when I knew her.  I met my great-grandmother Martha too, for the first time. 

Included among this vintage set, was one a little less so.  At the very end of the postcard pile I found this.

Apparently I felt the need to clarify as sender.

I've put aside my knitting for the past several days to make their container as these cards are box-worthy for sure – 

– keeping kindred spirits alive.

M's Favorite

Marlene loved a good turtleneck.  They were part of her classic look.  One day she reported to me that she found 10 in her closet, all of them black, when she was cleaning it up.  And although she wasn't particularly organized, I knew that even if she realized she had 9 at home, she would not have passed up that special one – a 10th – on her trip through Filenes Basement.  Knowing this I went looking for a photo of her in one of those classic blacks as I was preparing for this post, and found her instead in beige.  Taken about the same time as her confession, we're now numbering 11, clearly proving her obsession. 

Marlene and Paul, circa 1999

Marlene and Paul, circa 1999

We've been preparing for Juliet's wedding lately and Mum's been on my mind.  She would have adored James and thoroughly enjoyed the weekend festivities.  I like to think she orchestrated their perfection from her distance – since they were, and she would have.

My next design, forthcoming, is a turtleneck, for M.

Update – M's Favorite published 11/3/2015.

Paper toys 2015

This year's paper toys are ready for distribution to the Hoss clan, complete with Christmas giving assignments.  I'm Santa's secretary (er, administrative assistant) and cannot wait!

2015 marks a year of extraordinary happiness, with 3 weddings(!) – nephew Derek to Erica, niece Sheryl to Dan, and favorite daughter, knitting muse, and sweater model Juliet to favorite soon-to-be son-in-law James;

and also a year of loss as we've said good-bye to brother John.

These events are represented perfectly, I'd say, by 3 diamond rings and a wreath on the water – the circle(s) of life. 

Bearing witness

Yesterday, bittersweet, as the extended Hoss family gathered at Scituate beach to say good bye to brother John.

It was so nice to have everyone together.  Even the weather – grey, with dense air and breeze just right – seemed to offer us hugs... a surreal day to be sure.

Humarock

Hopping from the design detail of Bonanza, as I often do, is a new knitted piece I've named Humarock – a sweet sweater vest whose color, named salty brine, reminded me of sand as I worked it out.  Humarock is a beach local to me.  Our neighbors had a summer place there and invited us for the weekend once or twice to escape the Boston suburbs. 

Please forgive my face, I was 9 – and to quote a line from a favorite movie, "good at it."  Dad was 35, and my best playmate – ever my hero.
I've put out a call for testers on this new knit piece and look forward to publishing during July.  More to come on that, hopefully soon.

Update – Humarock published 7/25/2015.

Ernestina

Family historian Hilda (Lillian) recognized the name Hoss when she learned about marriage plans for me and Pete, and dug into our tree to find out more.  "Edwin Ziegler married an Ernestina Hoss," she reported. 

In 1871, Hans Ziegler and his wife Anna Habisreutinger traveled to the United States from Switzerland with two sons and settled in Malden, Massachusetts.  Their sons had sons – Jacob begot Edwin, and Ulrich, my great-grandfather Albert.

c.1979

c.1979

c.1900

c.1900

Later Pete's mom verified the connection, "Of course," she said, "Aunt Ernestine."  They knew each other well.  Edwin, my 1st-cousin-3-times-removed married Peter's great-aunt.  My husband and I are related.

Six degrees of separation, it turns out, exists in both current space and over time.

Ernestina will be the name of my next design – slowly coming into focus.  More on that soon.

 

Update – Ernestina published 9/15/2015.

Haze of childhood

When I was 8 I had a birds egg blue vinyl spring jacket – that may or may not be the one pictured below, but no matter, close enough.  And through the magic of photoshop it now is. 

Aren't so many of our selections in life based on memories from the haze of childhood.  It's my recollection of this vinyl jacket that has prompted my design currently underway – a garter stitch cardigan made from Quince&Co's lark wool in birds egg blue.  Zippered instead of buttoned and a bit more hip, I like to think, but its essence is surely this.  And it's almost done, just in time for spring.  I'll post soon.

Update –  Connie published 4/26/2015

Western obsession

My girlfriends can tell you all about my fascination with cowboys.  We've had more than a few laughs about it over the years :).  So in keeping with my patterns' personal naming theme, I dub this, my latest knitting design (with cowboy fringe!) – Bonanza.

Dad and I used to watch this 1960's tv series on Sunday nights, before (or after?) Ed Sullivan.  Maybe this is where my western obsession began.  Is it an accident I married a Hoss?  hee hee, a topic for my therapist..

Creating the fringe, a new-to-me technique, turned out to be very fun and easy.  Fabulous testers are working now to proof the numbers and text of my pattern, that I plan to launch mid-January.  It will be my first for 2015 – a nice start for the brand new year.  Yee-ha!

Paper toys 2014

Christmas in September! at least for me, as I put aside my knitting and orchestrate annual gift giving assignments and their paper toys for special delivery to my 16 brothers and sisters-in-law.

We lost our brother Bill this year – our marathon runner.  All the Hoss men are athletes and by now most have settled into golf for sport.  Bill remained a runner to the end, competing in 66 marathons during his lifetime.  He, and we, are particularly proud of his 1981 Boston Marathon – finishing first place for his age group in a time of 2 hours, 34 minutes, and 15 seconds.

This one's for you Bill.

Estelle's Envy

Lillian Hildegarde, my great aunt, was born in 1898 – the oldest daughter in my grandmother's family.  I knew she had polio as a child, that she had walked with a cane since then.

I knew she was the keeper of our family tree.  I spent one preteen summer with our royal typewriter re-keying her name lists onto new clean sheets.  I still have these pages.  I'm their keeper now.

Unlike most young women of her day she went to college. Single, independent, she lived alone in an apartment on Park Drive. Through family albums I learned more about her work at MIT.  She was a librarian. I saw her smiling back from photographs taken at her retirement party.

But it wasn't until much later that I discovered she was a writer – a writer of steamy novels never published, about life, love, romance, and heartbreak. She wrote her chapters in Scribble-in Books – little blank hardbound journals.  I have the one with pages numbered from 626 to 778.  I wish had more more.

As sweater tribute to my novelist, I plucked the fitting family-inspired name of my latest design from one of her characters – a young woman named Estelle.  

Introducing Estelle's Envy – a slim pullover with alpaca collar abundance. Pattern writing and testing are underway – EPD (estimated publish date) 9/15/2014.

Innamorata

I'm having a great summer of knitting. Let's Dance and Beach Weekend are published and my most recent, Innamorata, is nicely underway.  

This design is named for a Dean Martin song circa 1955 (almost before my time).  Marlene was a fan and if I close my eyes I can hear it playing from the stereo in our living room. 

Innamorata, Italian for "in love" and I've also seen translations as "sweetheart" and "soul mate" – all of which I find fitting for this simple, delicate, and thoroughly romantic summer tee.

I hope you'll agree.