I know this is my knitting blog, and this entry has nothing to do with knitting, but it's my blog and I can put this here if my heart tells me to.
My nana passed away this morning. She was 91, the last of her brothers and sisters to depart this earth. She was 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighed about 100 pounds. She was a terrible driver (she got her license when my mother was in high school), and a pretty good, old fashioned cook. She had been pronounced dead 4 times just before she got pregnant with my mom, but just after my uncle had been born (this time she's really gone). My grandpa said she was a lot different after that illness. She was always different, kinda like she was sorta senile, if that makes sense. She learned to swim and water ski when she was in her 50's. Ski first, learn to swim later...and the only stroke she knew was the side stroke. She used to jump into the water when us kids (her grandkids) were putting on our ski's, no matter how cold the water was she'd yell "Oh, the water is just heavenly". I remember begging her to get back into the boat so that we could yell "hit it" and get up on our ski's and out of the cold cold water.
There are so many many stories, she was a colorful little person (no she was not a dwarf, she was just short, tall in her family was anyone over 5'4"...which is my height, at 5'7" my sister and brother are practically giants.
So when I actually cast something onto my needles that I don't knit 2 inches of and then frog, I will be back. Perhaps with more stories, maybe not (since I'm the only one I know, except my sister, who reads this blog, it will be merely to jog my memory and entertain myself).