……that I would just get home, and have to turn around and go back again?? Word came yesterday afternoon that one of my aunts, a woman of strong faith, had passed away. She’d had a long history of heart trouble—her mother and brothers died very young—and we had actually visited her the evening before open heart surgery a couple weeks ago, while we were there. Honestly, I had strong doubts that she would survive the surgery, but survive she did, until Monday morning.
It’s rather hard to be too sad; she had confessed to her family that she was ready to go, and had had a good life. When a person with firm Christian beliefs dies, they are off to their reward, and it’s tough to mourn that. I do feel badly for my uncle, who will miss her terribly, and her two sons, both younger than I. Having lost my own dad when I was just 18, I can understand what they will be going through. Needless to say, I will join my extended family as they celebrate her life at the end of the week.
As promised, our next installment in the vacation wrap-up takes us North to Lynden, and what we affectionately (well most of the time anyway) call Harveyville. This plot of ground was first cleared and tamed by Brad’s grandfather, Frank Harvey, and his brother Glen. For many years they farmed the 60 acres, planting crops, and then growing cattle. As Frank and Aggie’s daughters grew, one settled on a corner of the property, and in later years, her daughter planted a house next to her mother’s. On the other side of Grandpa and Grandma’s house, Brad’s twin brother built a lovely home and garage/shop, and twice, their sister lived behind them in a mobile home. Brad’s mother has just moved to the homestead, planting a beautiful modular home in the middle of the berries. Truly a family “compound.” Most of the land is now leased to a raspberry farmer who pays us almost enough to cover the taxes each year.
One of the first things I did after we arrived was check out the two spinning wheels living with my mother-in-law. The first was an Ashford Traditional, that came to her by way of her cousin. No telling how old it is; it still has leather fittings and I can only discern one ratio. It was missing its brake band assembly, but with my nephew Em holding onto the bobbin, I got it to work.
The other wheel, the one I was really anxious to try, was built by Grandpa Harvey when he was nearly 90. He had a pattern, of sorts, but really had no idea how a spinning wheel worked. The wheel he built is lovely—-I had seen it before, long before I new anything about spinning.
Here’s a shot of Brad and Emory giving it a good once over. Upon close inspection, I found that the hooks were attached to the wrong side of the flyer, but with a little fiddling, we got it threaded with the hook Emory and I had fashioned out of a coat hanger and we were spinning.
….check out his first attempt ever!
As our visit drew to a close, I took the sock on a trek through the raspberries (these are actually on our acre)…….
……. and then we had a short chat with the heifers next door.
As we said goodbye to Lynden for this visit, this is what the car looked like…….
…….snug, with the Ashford safely stowed. Emory figured if he kept Uncle Brad’s backpack on his lap, he could stow away, and while I would have happily brought him home, his parents had other plans for him.
On a side note, PBnJ asked in the comments yesterday if it was a felted clog I was working on at the lake. Yes indeedy, and they were intended for Emory. Emory, who loves hand knit slippers and has duct taped over the holes in the last pair I knit for him was quite anxious to have his new clogs. Sadly, I ran out of the light blue wool two rounds before the end. Em was okay with me fudging it by finishing it up with the dark blue. I started to do that, but then we had to leave (I had at least a couple hours of knitting left to do). Now I figure if I’m going to have to send them to him anyway, I might as well order more light blue wool (knitpicks) and do it right (it was bugging the tar out of me).
Tomorrow, a new word, and a bit more of the slideshow 🙂