tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67947385177288989202024-02-06T18:32:08.737-08:00Yarn Addicted WidowOnce happily married, for many years, to my best friend who assisted me in my knit shop. As a widow, I am now trying to move on. Please help me unload my storage units! Inventory Must find new homes! Checkout my web site www.ritzythings.com or specials listed here!Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-33820645457835060922014-07-22T16:05:00.000-07:002014-07-26T23:16:12.378-07:00It's Been Awhile... SPECIAL OFFER!!I have been caught up in life and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Right now, I'm having an awful time with my website Thought I'd better get going on something, to move some of this stuff I still have on hand.<br />
I had wanted to honor Ed on his birthday and reduce the price of the <b>Pony Pearl Circular Knitting Needles</b>. Wasn't able to really accomplish anything with the website. It seemed to dump everything I tried. I haven't a clue to what has happened.<br />
So, I'll try on this blog to see if I can find new homes for a few items. I will send you a bill using PayPal. I will be adding items once I see how this works.<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">SPECIAL OFFER **</span></b><br />
<br />
<img border="2" src="http://www.ritzythings.com/images/ponycircular._small.jpg" height="122" width="125" /><br />
<b>Pony Pearl Circular Knitting Needles Special offer</b><br />
US size 10.75 x 40" 7.00mm x 100cm - 5 on hand <br />
were $9.40 NOW <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>$7.00* + </b>s/h<b><br /></b></span><br />
US size 10.75 x 30" 7.00mm x 80cm - 4 on hand <br />
were $9.40 NOW <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>$7.00* +</b>s/h<b></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>email me with SPECIAL </b><span style="color: #444444;">in subject<b> </b>at ritzythings@gmail.com</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #444444;">A PayPal bill will be sent to you. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span><b> </b></span>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-3734682931726101122013-01-08T15:13:00.000-08:002014-04-26T19:12:32.984-07:00<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Magic Photograph</span></span></span>
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Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-35108915725742486152012-03-12T13:03:00.001-07:002012-03-16T18:45:17.080-07:00Beyond Shocking!The most startling thing has happened to me this last week. I knew I had a problem but I did not know what to call it and I never talked about it, I was far too embarrassed. Nor, did I ever share this shocking information with a doctor or others, regarding what I thought I might have. I was just what the teachers labeled me as when I started school, “You are too stupid to learn”. <br />
<br />
Moving up to junior high was awful, I had to start over classifying new people to a whole set of criteria, since I cannot recognize faces! In high school, it was much worse as strangers from other area schools became part of the class. To me it was overwhelming and crippling I moved in a vast empty space filled with voices.<br />
<br />
This last week I shared with my youngest daughter the fact that I am unable to recognize faces. I have had this all my life but ignored and hid it as best I could. When she told me she had a friend that had the same thing, I was shocked. Here, all these many years I just thought, “I was too stupid” to recognize faces. <br />
<br />
If you always wear a golden colored leather coat with a brass snap at the collar and cream buttons down the front, with a hanging belt that has an unusual center-back loop, I will always know it is you. Otherwise, I will pass you like the stranger you are to me. When I hear your voice or your laugh with that little hiccup at the end of your escalated burst of frivolity, I will then be able to recognize it is you.<br />
<br />
When told a number of years ago that I was dyslexic, it set me back on my heels, but I had my husband to lean on. No wonder, I had so much trouble reading but that did not stop the tears that rushed from my wounded heart. How could I have traveled through my life not realizing, I had such a problem with words? Because I had believed the teachers words, “You are too stupid to learn”! I did not learn to read until I was in the seventh grade, see there is more proof, the teacher was right.<br />
<br />
Understanding that others have had this same problem and it is not just my fault, because I am too stupid to recognize faces, has taken me on a whirlwind of discovery. Yes, a chunk of what was missing for a connection in my life is now in place and I can move on from here. You see, I counted on my husband to keep track of faces. He did a brilliant job of making sure all names ended up labeled with the right person in our lives.<br />
<br />
Prosopagnosia is the name of this disorder. Yes, I have had it all my life. I remember my uncle and my dad lining up when I but a tot, per-kindergarten, I picked my uncle as my dad until my dad spoke. Then I picked my dad and I remember saying, “That’s my daddy”.<br />
<br />
If I have walked passed you without so much as a, "Hello", forgive me, I did not really know it was you!<br />
<br />
I could not pronounce this disorder until I was able to hear it: http://www.howjsay.com/index.php?word=prosopagnosia<br />
<br />
Maybe this will help explain things:http://www.buzzle.com/articles/prosopagnosia-face-blindness.html<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-73983421183413746042010-11-11T13:11:00.000-08:002010-11-11T13:21:49.262-08:00The Band Man<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">by "Ritzy" Arlene Ritzhaupt</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once there was a man that sang to me</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He wasn't tall or handsome, he just romanced me.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He was beyond charming as he smiled and swayed,</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He winked at me and made me feel warm as he sang away.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He sang to me of things I thought I'd never hear anyone say.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">He told me he'd love me even if I were old and gray.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The little band he led played and played</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">They had tunes that are in my heart to stay.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I never knew this man until I saw him sway with that band.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">As he sang, I knew he'd be the man that would always hold my hand.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">You may ask how I found this man that played those tunes and sang so grand.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I heard his voice, followed the sound, to watch as he sang and romanced me with his band.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">©</span> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">9/16/2010</span></span></div>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-15814469530368672262010-09-30T21:17:00.000-07:002010-09-30T21:17:53.338-07:00My Jeep<div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: 130%;">My Jeep </span></div><span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">by "Ritzy" Arlene Ritzhaupt</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span> </span></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> </span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Hey man, what’d ya do to <span class="il">my</span> <span class="il">Jeep</span>? </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">It was bright and shiny and all new, it weren’t no heap!</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">4 chrome wheels that would glide through water that deep</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">And still sparkle like a shiny new <span class="il">Jeep</span>.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I added fancy chrome running boards,</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">To make <span class="il">my</span> step up easy, more like the Fords.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">A bad install made me almost fall.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Not a step up, but this ridge of horror </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">That sent me to the floor.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">No room for a shoe </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Not even a pool cue!</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I had the dealer take them off</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I got worse than a scoff.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">When I saw <span class="il">my</span> wheels in the light of day, </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">All the chrome had turned to ugly gray! </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 100%;">Why you cheats, you thieves</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">You took <span class="il">my</span> wheels giving me the heaves!</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Don’t buy a <span class="il">Jeep</span> from these guys!</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">You know they really aren’t very wise.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Treat me right and I’ll send you more customers as a prize.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Once people hear my story you’ll feel some shrinkage in your size.</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Just before your demise!</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">© 9 /17/2010</span></span></div>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-86257025220423851062009-01-02T10:28:00.000-08:002009-03-11T11:28:10.372-07:00Christmas after the Snow 2008<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qE2CnsxU0gIP9Y_f9IabUbVOg6lH6ULF24d-1yVJod8CKaTcEapmtKeSYTT-I4-Xi9JhyphenhyphencyvBWX9gUr26ocWF8WMVZzzjIveFgD8AR7t-NwoRQoY0R4h0mO_W55RAiTMP5iDVapVxLpw/s1600-h/2008holiday42.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qE2CnsxU0gIP9Y_f9IabUbVOg6lH6ULF24d-1yVJod8CKaTcEapmtKeSYTT-I4-Xi9JhyphenhyphencyvBWX9gUr26ocWF8WMVZzzjIveFgD8AR7t-NwoRQoY0R4h0mO_W55RAiTMP5iDVapVxLpw/s200/2008holiday42.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288297271843901234" border="0" /></a>
My daughter Teresa, grandson Dale and granddaughter Emily, with their mother and my daughter, Anna.
I really hated being snowbound! One good thing came out of it, I was able to finish gifts this year!
We continued our family tradition of one person opening one gift at a time.
We all were able to see the persons joy as they opened each gift. It makes Christmas very special as we all share in the excitement of each gift received. We all know what everyone got and nothing gets lost.
Christmas really is just being with each other and enjoying each others company.
We ended with a lovely meal out. No mad dash to cook anything... it was a very special day with my very special people.
My wish for you, that your Holiday was as special to you as mine was to me!Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-90063262917389406082008-12-27T08:15:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:59:38.153-08:00Winter Wonderland<p> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">White stuff everywhere!</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm beyond those years of desiring that puffy white stuff to fall from the sky. To me, it only means not getting to where I want to be. Most of all, missing Christmas with family and friends. When I can't get out it makes me very grumpy... grrrrrr!
My driveway is about 1/2 mile long and curves in front of the barn and comes up hill to the house. The house on the other side of the barn is my closest neighbor. From the upstairs landing I can look down on the lower part of the driveway. I can't really see the drive since it's all a big white blur. The temperature is up above freezing! Flood warnings are now being broadcast from the melting snow and storm drains clogged with sand.
</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">This shows the depth of the snow 12/25/2008.
</span></span></p><p>
<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"></span></span>
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<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zHgYE8xtQXTSJv42aQzPQhB_cEU9zIoUt_8Hgzr1bYrUx0APwapQlGRVjdlfNr_AlkE1yXkRuu6bBIs4EBgV59dQBK3InLsb9qppwefNZIavOog2gq5nr47x86tQEa_oPojEfeIVd2NE/s1600-h/xmas08snowdriveIMG_0016.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zHgYE8xtQXTSJv42aQzPQhB_cEU9zIoUt_8Hgzr1bYrUx0APwapQlGRVjdlfNr_AlkE1yXkRuu6bBIs4EBgV59dQBK3InLsb9qppwefNZIavOog2gq5nr47x86tQEa_oPojEfeIVd2NE/s200/xmas08snowdriveIMG_0016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284506887869062930" border="0" /></a>
</p>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-1054968424066710362008-11-13T16:42:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:01:25.334-08:00Pattens For Sale<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mh1wwx_q9_peeOp32tc7fMLQvufHSsk6sbbeLI-iwMWn4Y8YuAc1tJQ0BAFHUMmbnTzqslBcOUSet-Ngp7tPE37IZYIwXArae7HFGoGfw4HPktsp3-k_1XMlW_nXQR0ooG2rxoaSIGeg/s1600-h/Photoupload136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mh1wwx_q9_peeOp32tc7fMLQvufHSsk6sbbeLI-iwMWn4Y8YuAc1tJQ0BAFHUMmbnTzqslBcOUSet-Ngp7tPE37IZYIwXArae7HFGoGfw4HPktsp3-k_1XMlW_nXQR0ooG2rxoaSIGeg/s200/Photoupload136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268315825381742530" border="0" /></a>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEjeWd0t0rurAZ0x5YNPcO7snBfenLB354Et-P3S605xwlNBJ4sN8puv9Q_6DDJLAwSeF9eN3pZBZPbi32j7Z8-iSk-htMKpq_b04BQDTRr_sZ-zOThG-D3TsMR1k4lmzfB5dOYgo2HiI/s1600-h/Photoupload144.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEjeWd0t0rurAZ0x5YNPcO7snBfenLB354Et-P3S605xwlNBJ4sN8puv9Q_6DDJLAwSeF9eN3pZBZPbi32j7Z8-iSk-htMKpq_b04BQDTRr_sZ-zOThG-D3TsMR1k4lmzfB5dOYgo2HiI/s200/Photoupload144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268315565996117026" border="0" /></a>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqnX0Vfuu1v2Fsy583RIfwjy0R9RIHG9ET-pGYhBLi6MivZNQTcnmJewuY9nhQYziMNPfWAd56HtQdqdr0noeCsjkw_qclUAnvqVa9v1EoLlDKNvrIWVGyMST0pM-0Z5yTwIObcO2I6F2/s1600-h/ebay+patterns+2+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqnX0Vfuu1v2Fsy583RIfwjy0R9RIHG9ET-pGYhBLi6MivZNQTcnmJewuY9nhQYziMNPfWAd56HtQdqdr0noeCsjkw_qclUAnvqVa9v1EoLlDKNvrIWVGyMST0pM-0Z5yTwIObcO2I6F2/s200/ebay+patterns+2+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268315262270976082" border="0" /></a>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKZWS458xZQKQ7_GkKV62gCFLq17fFfxVYKkwEwiOeqLso-GKOfkopaUjrzC7vvug7IOySa2KZ3kFJaAeCT2qJ2h7pEvjmkBzBajxhDwfJtLFDc8ffMcFqpvysVqgfvJMaoLg6QJK1Fcm/s1600-h/ebay+patterns+2+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKZWS458xZQKQ7_GkKV62gCFLq17fFfxVYKkwEwiOeqLso-GKOfkopaUjrzC7vvug7IOySa2KZ3kFJaAeCT2qJ2h7pEvjmkBzBajxhDwfJtLFDc8ffMcFqpvysVqgfvJMaoLg6QJK1Fcm/s200/ebay+patterns+2+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268307835939697490" border="0" /></a>
For Sale - Patterns <p>All items are NEW
Mother & Daughter Felted Hat in Atmosfera by Skacel pattern $6.50 includes s/h US.
Fabio “Princess Dress” Vest by Skacel pattern $6.50 includes s/h US.
Felt Hat II by Fiber Trends pattern $6.50 includes s/h US.
Enterlac Throw by Ann Norling pattern $5.00 includes s/h US.
I accept PayPal payments.</p>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-4942837215025938182008-11-01T10:19:00.000-07:002008-11-01T10:53:14.769-07:00Holiday Christmas Stockings for the TroopsOperation Holiday Stockings
Knitters here's a way for you to give to the troops that not only is fun but can use up some of your stash too. Sue needs these stocking before Thanksgiving for them to reach the troops in time for Christmas.
The basic sock pattern is found in the <a href="http://theyarnability.blogspot.com/2008/10/story-behind-operation-holiday.html">The Story Behind Operation Holiday Stockings</a> They are easy, quick and fun. You can doll them up using your own imagination. Have fun Everyone!Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-62613354241896008052008-07-29T19:36:00.000-07:002011-08-30T15:34:10.970-07:00Life Happens<span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">I have been rather remiss in posting... it's called, "life happens". My surgery in April went rather nicely. <br />
<br />
May, of course, brought some unusual rains... yup, right into my basement with nasty brown water. Ohhhh, what a mess! To top that off I also needed to clear out the loft of the barn and bring all my leftover inventory to my property. Okay, still working on that part, but the inventory should be here before long. I will be listing a lot of stuff on my website and here because I need it gone! <br />
<br />
In mid June I started the sad feelings because Ed's birthday and anniversary of his passing were coming up in July. I chide myself thinking, I should be beyond these bouts of great sadness... it just hasn't happened yet. This is what's been going through my mind... A few years ago... that real hot summer we had... I was working in my storage units when I realized it wasn't the roof dripping condensation but my head. <br />
<br />
I decided to take a break and placed a chair up front to try and catch a little air hoping for a breeze to start cooling me. Boy, all of a sudden I really missed my guy~ I knew he would have set a chair up for me and gotten me a glass of water or whatever it took to make me comfortable... he was just that kind of a guy... sweet and caring. I started to cry softly and the tears streamed down my cheeks as others drove by going to their storage unit. I was heavy into my own sadness when I suddenly felt Ed's presence. I could almost feel his arms around me and I could smell him, his essence.<br />
<br />
"Okay, if you're truly here, Show Me!" I stammered as I tried to think of something he, his spirit, could do. </span></span><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">I said, to no one in particular, just noting I wasn't crazy.</span></span> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">"Show me," I thought of him shoving something off a shelf. I quickly decided that may not work and I'd never know if that feeling was him, but I was sure it was him. I wanted proof for me! "Show me," I continued to stammered, until I hit on the right thing. The sky had been one of those great Seattle blue skies, without a cloud and hardly a breeze and close to 90 some degrees. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">"Show me," I said in a confident voice, like, ah ah, caught you. "Show me a submarine!" I thought I was brilliant! I had no idea where he'd find a submarine in my storage shed but I really needed to know that the presence I felt was him. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">Just that fast, a big, huge, puffy cloud settled in front of my view, on the backdrop of the pristine blue Seattle sky. My eyes couldn't leave that huge mass of white, as a submarine, like the old diesel model, took shape before my eyes. It had the conning tower and looked very much like a side view of a sub he once served on. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Diodon_(SS-349) When the touches were being added to shape the tail fins, a small puff of a breeze distorted and pull the submarine out of proportion, as it slowly drifted away from me. I was pleased, stunned and mystified beyond words. I could only stand and stare as the white submarine slowly drifted into other clouds that had just as suddenly appeared. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;">You may ask, why I've brought this up so many years later? I saw a Physic this past weekend and she also, confirmed that Ed had made the submarine. When I asked the Physic the question she took awhile to answer. Before she could say a word, bits of brown stuff came flying at me from my right side. I'm sure it was him since I strongly believe he was also there. The brown stuff was from a tree, but it wasn't to my right at all. She told me, Ed said, "Yes," so fast and so many times that she became unsure and asked him again. I really think it was him scolding me for asking. And yes, I know a lot of you are very skeptical. I'm fine with that since I know, what I now know. </span></span>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-35359991877950970332008-02-26T01:03:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:14:41.256-08:00One Fidget Scarf Finished and Given<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Wouldn't you know, as luck would have it, the sun came out nice and hot on the day I give the scarf. Even so, the recipient seemed pleased with his gift.
I thought he looked very sharp sporting his Fidget. I did need to give instructions on how to wear it. People don't know what to do with a scarf that has buttons. I hope to be able to capture him in a photo wearing the scarf. He's one of the local poker dealers for tournament style poker. He had told me, if I was going to knit at his poker table I needed to make him a scarf. I felt it was a small enough price to pay to get good cards.
The Fidget was knit using Kross by Mondial 100% wool. Buttons and yarn both came from my huge stash! I have plenty of this yarn left in red if anyone is interested?</span></span></span>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJve6iTa8v70xEaWcwq72nT0F1bBQ-H2_HNIGcqQHds0AI0WOMbNrAp3hzS9GlQ4Ti83tXFE2BdnHycHGnnQOKFAoD3ob1NcI2-H5hPASfRLT8m2Yi_ibKVeaaq9941oRDxzBtFKl8e17/s1600-h/011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJve6iTa8v70xEaWcwq72nT0F1bBQ-H2_HNIGcqQHds0AI0WOMbNrAp3hzS9GlQ4Ti83tXFE2BdnHycHGnnQOKFAoD3ob1NcI2-H5hPASfRLT8m2Yi_ibKVeaaq9941oRDxzBtFKl8e17/s320/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171215206014532514" border="0" /></a>
<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">This is a fun scarf to make. It only takes a few hours to knit using one ball of yarn.
It felt good to finally get one of the scarves completely finished, blocked and with buttons sewn on. Took longer to set up the blocking screen than to knit. (I set the screen over the bathtub where garments dry between wet towels for final shaping.)
O</span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">ne more item</span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> I can now scratch off my to do list of gifts to knit and give. Woo Hoo!!</span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">
</span></span>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-33978706775054373212008-02-18T10:15:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:15:30.190-08:00Knitting Teacher: Goals and Patterns<span style="font-family:comic sans ms;">I always found when I was teaching that a new knitter does NOT know what should be hard. If you tell them they can and have a positive attitude, they will knit it and complete the project.
I started all my beginners on circular knitting needles and making a simple cardigan, tank top or hat. Requirements were that the garment must have shaping of some sort and use only stockinet stitch. The item needed to be for themselves or someone they truly wanted to receive a gift of love.
My goal was to create an independent knitter in 4 - 8 weeks during 1 1/2 hour classes. After that amount of time people were unable to absorb anymore instruction. I limited class size to 5 - 7, the number of students I felt I was able to get around to during class time. I wanted to get a knitter over being afraid to try a pattern and knit whatever they wanted.
All students learned:
1. to read a pattern
2. be able to see and make a knit and a purl stitch
3. to do the frog stitch
4. to pick up stitches
6. to increase and decrease
</span><span style="font-family:comic sans ms;">7. work with light enough color to see the stitches</span>
<span style="font-family:comic sans ms;">8. to assemble the finished pieces
9. to block the finished garment
10. NO novelty yarns.
Patterns:
Knitting Pure and Simple
Fiber Trends
Ann Norling
Patons
Cascade
The above patterns were hands down some of the easiest to read and knit of the patterns available. They all helped to create successful knitters.
I do think it was a big help to take classes from the Craft Yarn Council of America where I'm a Certified Instructor</span><span style="font-family:comic sans ms;"> for Knitting and Crochet. http://www.craftyarncouncil.com/teach.html
Being a good knitter does not make a good teacher. The best way to solve a students knitting problems is for an instructor to be a good listener. Even though my knitters started with circular needles they all had the brand that worked best for them. There were times I would explain a technique many different ways until I saw the light come into the students eyes. That's when I knew they truly "got it"!
There is nothing more rewarding than teaching a person to knit, it will be their best friend for life. I have seen knitting be the life line for many people in different situations that were beyond their control.
You can view a few of our knitters and their finished garments at, http://www.ritzythings.com/gallery.htm
If you are thinking of being a knitting instructor remember, S M I L E a lot!!
I wish you the best, it's so rewarding,
Arlene
</span>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-24392752067669697832008-01-22T13:28:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:16:45.351-08:00Poker Sweater<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wcAXaGrWgYOvd8yQ_xZvMOMvTiVlu5B63JKSAxb79Azaf-LxwPApaHEyVOW7AAs_n1QTq5_76lUZ7EkQ_5hKoRbH_R3d1CH5_Lo94RoGiPcOHUNiGhSCsyI3tdXc72yTuOn3rS2-V5nq/s1600-h/poker+sweater+021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wcAXaGrWgYOvd8yQ_xZvMOMvTiVlu5B63JKSAxb79Azaf-LxwPApaHEyVOW7AAs_n1QTq5_76lUZ7EkQ_5hKoRbH_R3d1CH5_Lo94RoGiPcOHUNiGhSCsyI3tdXc72yTuOn3rS2-V5nq/s320/poker+sweater+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158428306619341298" border="0" /></a>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQxq0FZGf4vrToY0Azt5lAN1_FWY_UINKiWq6pvcw3h4qwJZ91aWLX0DHbjdopByuR5MNuZkZfn8-QcNQQ2och5lk01tRJPOKmsxY41USZaMv9S8-jWJ_SN05nrQGmF6nOby-rDFK6yz1/s1600-h/poker+sweater+012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQxq0FZGf4vrToY0Azt5lAN1_FWY_UINKiWq6pvcw3h4qwJZ91aWLX0DHbjdopByuR5MNuZkZfn8-QcNQQ2och5lk01tRJPOKmsxY41USZaMv9S8-jWJ_SN05nrQGmF6nOby-rDFK6yz1/s320/poker+sweater+012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158422667327281634" border="0" /></a>
<span style="font-family:georgia;">Been working on Cottage Creations, Babies & Bears Sweater for Grown-ups.
</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">I apologize for the poor color on my second photo. I couldn't get it to appear in the proper shade.
</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">
It's been fun making this sweater since I can still play poker while I</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> knit. I'll do anything to put some of those poker players on tilt. No, casino's do not allow knitting needles. They are considered a weapon. This is pub - tournament poker and sometimes the players over deliberate their move to the point of distraction. I needed something to keep a calm non-caring poker face and Zen knitting is it.
I love the way this pattern starts at the cuff and knits up the sleeve. There are a number of circular knitting needle lengths required to complete each half of the sweater. The longest was 36". This is required for holding all the stitches from the front, side and back on one needle.
I played with making this in two colors. It took a bit to get the right combination of rows but I did rather luck out.
The one thing I did not do was mark every 10 or so rows to keep count for ease of matching the right sleeve length to the left. I was reminded by a dear friend to go to the inside with the purl bumps and count those. They are so much easier. Even doing that, I lost count and had to resort to using a marking yarn by dipping under each 10th row.
I am so intrigued by this design that I only waited a day or two after completing the left side to start on the cuff for the right side of my "poker" sweater. (Gee, I wonder how it got that name?) I was rather concerned I'd wait too long to continue and would totally loose interest in completing my poker sweater. I've only taken a short break to knit a couple of fidget scarves, which still need to be blocked.
</span>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-42061072445888151172008-01-14T15:22:00.000-08:002011-03-04T02:46:18.475-08:00METhis came to me in the middle of the night, a few nights before my husband died. It woke me in a flurry to find pen and a pad, to jot down what was appearing in my minds eye. I have shared this with a few friends that have also had big losses. Maybe it will help you as it has me. When I read it to my husband the next day, a tear slid down his cheek. If it helps anyone to have understanding or gain peace, that makes it all the more wonderful. <br />
<div class="ArwC7c ckChnd" id="1ep5"><div bgcolor="#ffffff" text="#000000"><h1 align="center" style="text-align: center;">ME</h1><div align="center" style="text-align: center;">By Arlene Ritzhaupt<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Where will I be</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">When I’m going to be me?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">How will I know when I’m me?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Since it’s all about me?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">When my color turns gray, </div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will it truly be me?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Do I sing?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Do I cry?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Do I want me to be me?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will I fit?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Can I stand it?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will the skin be too tight?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will it be comfy and cozy?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">With my sweet home in sight?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will I want to be me from bone to bone?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will I say I’m happy as if I were home?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will it fit for me, to be at home with the me that I be?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Where will I be when I’m truly me?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will the being me be the best of the being?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Will I have earned my stripes and enjoy being me?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Can I truly be me?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">For if I don’t like me what shall I do?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Can I remake me all over and new?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">From scratch this time, I hope to be me.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">What can I add that will make me be me?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">More like the me of me,</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">The me I must be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">The me I should be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">The me I want to be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">The me I will be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">The me I can understand as me.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Please could you tell me, the me I’m to be?</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Please give me a clue of who this me should be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">There is a me inside that’s grown beyond this me.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">There is a me that’s not the me, as I know it to be.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">For it follows me.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">It whispers to me,</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">It taunts me, to be me.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">But I still don’t hear what this me must be. </div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"><br />
Tell me for sure in words that I hear.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Who is this me that I must be? <br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Tell me of this me that I am to be. </div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">How can I now change this me that I be?<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Can I now muster to improve the me that I be.</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">For I feel the pull of the challenge to be just ME.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Copyright 2003</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;">Arlene Ritzhaupt</div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1in;"></div></div></div>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-31247619862532280492007-12-07T17:55:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:17:52.545-08:00If You Wondered Why<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIAocdZlfdqcLfivxxsOLOzOwycP800nz248u_HpV9AirIsAuQHujT8MP_ZdhbIeVaFIehqcvX7NxqX3i7C71w96_tcibxEZ5fFxrEDCz2sp2wtJMJGxnZx9SVbc3TduWIlF8hp000JXa/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIAocdZlfdqcLfivxxsOLOzOwycP800nz248u_HpV9AirIsAuQHujT8MP_ZdhbIeVaFIehqcvX7NxqX3i7C71w96_tcibxEZ5fFxrEDCz2sp2wtJMJGxnZx9SVbc3TduWIlF8hp000JXa/s320/006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141639782278689858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Wondered why I have not reopened my shop in my home, as it was when I started my business? Here's why... </span>
</span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpUCiAbXQ3pOSpmCzoyfCh9l74dgPxRZS_Ohu_Alte9TJv1R5XvYWmvdiyKZ_ctjBKuS_wJJ5m-L_7QTwjrnUbs0DSaaQi7ld362meRUNAYfFF3o3w9diiMauBhFvcxPspsc_DHu7iLjl/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpUCiAbXQ3pOSpmCzoyfCh9l74dgPxRZS_Ohu_Alte9TJv1R5XvYWmvdiyKZ_ctjBKuS_wJJ5m-L_7QTwjrnUbs0DSaaQi7ld362meRUNAYfFF3o3w9diiMauBhFvcxPspsc_DHu7iLjl/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141639335602091058" border="0" /></a>
<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span>
<span style="font-family:georgia;">And here's the driveway coming in and going out... Need I say more? So, when you place an order and I say, I may need more time, please be understanding. I've never seen it flood this bad in all the years I've been here. December 2, 2007. Hopefully this will also pass.
</span>
</span><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvZJtPjzdjTLeCeW38ZbgP0cb0xCwPc7pZ1dvKFZaHeaCNIGJQo4JHt7BSA9FEDgIzFx51vGh990GoulHBT6HXLnI9siGQFIYnUN14QShyphenhyphen5mB8tRaWIVHe8D8mRyCM5hpVnyAkVpPMRmi/s1600-h/002-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvZJtPjzdjTLeCeW38ZbgP0cb0xCwPc7pZ1dvKFZaHeaCNIGJQo4JHt7BSA9FEDgIzFx51vGh990GoulHBT6HXLnI9siGQFIYnUN14QShyphenhyphen5mB8tRaWIVHe8D8mRyCM5hpVnyAkVpPMRmi/s320/002-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141640916150056018" border="0" /></a>
</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qnfnrkSuZd6XX2YsMtZFFNoQiOxyQSHYGEcbBDIes2Y03BdPQaJoY4XPHrpx338mhz4Gx2e0i5HKiXWt1PQYVOQAyOwsmV3lLQQ-8aC0T1EHm1hqQFE7dm1f_7QPiOXhY9jIwfA-WujT/s1600-h/012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qnfnrkSuZd6XX2YsMtZFFNoQiOxyQSHYGEcbBDIes2Y03BdPQaJoY4XPHrpx338mhz4Gx2e0i5HKiXWt1PQYVOQAyOwsmV3lLQQ-8aC0T1EHm1hqQFE7dm1f_7QPiOXhY9jIwfA-WujT/s320/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141641384301491298" border="0" /></a>Arlenesflooding.blogspot.cpmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06585016389528372475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794738517728898920.post-17443226220710078122007-11-07T20:00:00.000-08:002013-04-04T12:28:40.988-07:00How I got here from Ritzy Things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pzt4LluXUA5wtLBZBqpsJScWa7vN4isTXWX9fw4vEVhIb4AJ1MPMzqZOMBAqef82qvvPEB40JOhOH3L9AkXn9KLL_wHy0wwr0mzm2JACFfOM3z3k-TygapygqRyE-Gf4IqVOfvA79fcx/s1600-h/Come+on+in+ED.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pzt4LluXUA5wtLBZBqpsJScWa7vN4isTXWX9fw4vEVhIb4AJ1MPMzqZOMBAqef82qvvPEB40JOhOH3L9AkXn9KLL_wHy0wwr0mzm2JACFfOM3z3k-TygapygqRyE-Gf4IqVOfvA79fcx/s200/Come+on+in+ED.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130659834645568850" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a> <span style="font-family: georgia;">I only had a 30 day notice that the lease would not be renewed on my knit shop. It was not enough time to sell off the contents of the shop plus, new inventory was being delivered daily. We were not only overwhelmed but broadside by this news. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> My husband and I diligently slaved for that last month trying to liquidate the inventory and move the complete contents of the shop. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">We had plans on how to sell off the remaining inventory once we moved out and caught our breath. We had enjoyed a wonderful group of customers. Many of our saddened customers came in to help us pack things up and load boxes onto the truck for the storage units. It was just too much to sell off that quickly. With heavy hearts we closed our doors never to open again. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">I never had that chance to catch my breath... <span style="font-family: courier new;">Let me step back in time to the prior September 2002.</span> I faintly started to hear a soft <i>voice</i> echoing in my head that continued for months. The <i>voice</i> repeated these words and only these words, over and over again, <i>"It only takes an instant."</i> Being a mother with adult children, my thoughts immediately turned to some tragedy that might involve them our grandchildren. At odd moments during the day I would hear this phrase repeated in my head. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">I than came to my senses, I realized I didn't have control over my children or grandchildren and their lives. I began to doubt that this was a warning that meant they were in danger. Still, I heard... <i>"It only takes and instant". </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">I stood in front of my shop, admiring the success I had created with the beginning funds of only $250.00 many years ago with the help from my darling husband. Oh, yes, it had taken time and lots of energy, but I had created what I desired. Wow! It was a powerful feeling. Joy, pride and the greatest fullness that comes with success, all washed over me. I stood in the parking lot, proudly gazing at the neon sign above my store, which I had seen, but not seen for years. I again heard the <i>voice</i>. <i>"It only takes an instant."</i> Of course, I did the only logical thing, I strongly ignored it! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">Then when the "voice" continued to ring in my head, I felt the warning </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">must be meant for me</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">. I started being more cautious in my regular activities and always saying what I meant... but that's a good thing over all. This seemed to send the <i>voice</i> a ways farther back into the distance. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">I was happy with my life, I'd achieved my goals, not perfectly but my dreams were fulfilled. I was on top of the world. I was madly in love with my guy and he was head over heels in love with me. He took care all the household stuff and I took care the shop. He treated me like his queen, as if I were a precious commodity, cherished and very loved. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">My guy was a romantic at heart. A sweet and tender soul, he loved nothing more than to make me happy. He did so many little things to light up my day or just because. He'd be the one to get lunch for us or get our morning latte. He'd come back with hugs and kisses as though he'd been gone for a week. In other words, we couldn't stand to be apart. We truly enjoyed each others company. He had traveled the world in a submarine but wanted nothing more than to be by my side. His years aboard a submarine had given him a talent for packing goods into small spaces. He always amazed me how he could make a huge quantity of stuff shrink into a tiny space. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">He was my forest of protection, always there offering his arms for safety. My strength, my very being was securely entwined in him. We were two strong individuals but one whole. We were close as though we breathed for each other. He was my senior and that always gave me pause, yet, he didn't act that old. He acted and behaved much younger.</span> <span style="font-family: georgia;"> He had learned to take time to smell the roses too. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">One early dawn he came back into the house and gently woke me. "Come quick, you have to see this." He wrapped my robe around me and threw my jacket on top of that. It was a cold November morning at daybreak. When we stepped off the porch and looked to the east over the top of the barn... we became bathed in the most glorious sunrise ever. We shared that moment as close as two beings can, as we shivered in the morning crispness watching the sky unfold its glorious show. He gave me one of his lushes big hugs and placed me back on the porch with kisses a bunch. "I love you sweetie," he said as he planted a parting kiss on my lips, as though he was going out to sea for months. <span style="font-family: courier new;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Back to the July 17,2003 ten days after closing.</span> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">We were starting our new life without the shop and all our shop friends. We still hadn't tried to move any of the many stacks of boxes that cluttered the house. We did a little jig-jag to dance around them when going from room to room. We knew we had lots of time to figure them out. First we would eliminate the storage units and than un-clutter the house. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">A week and a half later we needed to buy groceries and decided a trip to the base would be something to cheer us up. He seemed tired but I thought he was still trying to catch up on rest from the move. I knew I still felt deflated. He had made a doctors appointment for the following Monday morning. He took more time and waited in the car while I did some of the shopping. When we got home we both unloaded the groceries from the car. He took the foods to be frozen down to the basement freezer. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">We were both exhausted from our trip out and had a simple dinner. We popped in a movie since nothing else sparked our interest. I started to lie down on the couch and realized I just might fall asleep. I quickly sprang back up and looked him in the eye from across the room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">"I love you babe,</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">" </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I said.</span> <span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">"Ahhhh, you do?" </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">He answered back with one of his big lopsided grins and a question in his voice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">"With all my heart," </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I reassured him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">"I love you to babe," he said as he continued to eat a bowl of fruit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;"> I laid back down with the knowledge that all was right in my world. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">Sad to say, it didn't last long. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I soon realized I was at the threshold of change. The clock revealed 2 am. He wasn't in his recliner. I didn't know what, but something seemed very wrong. I was aware that I was not hearing the <i>voice</i> and the lack of it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Those events have been the hardest I have ever had to walk through. The realization that there was nothing I could do to change them, that hit me hard. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">I now appreciated how the Hawaiian King, in the book Hawaii, had climbed to the top of the mountain and gouged out his eye at the loss of his beloved wife. If I could just find a high enough mountain or a sharp enough knife, I too could cut out my pain. It has been a long hard road. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMEgWr2SNNEPdm0phcYFPOKLnzMB3PSAlJEQB8846n11Tn5lmPt6_Ij_43LwI42_6O4wpvcpcHEzmGoIQuQnWA4b9-LCKqYx-OnYnCVksInbw2z2CK3DQ6SY6tZ6_EiBFVJFT2KoVQTJY/s1600-h/EdBCNYeve12002.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMEgWr2SNNEPdm0phcYFPOKLnzMB3PSAlJEQB8846n11Tn5lmPt6_Ij_43LwI42_6O4wpvcpcHEzmGoIQuQnWA4b9-LCKqYx-OnYnCVksInbw2z2CK3DQ6SY6tZ6_EiBFVJFT2KoVQTJY/s200/EdBCNYeve12002.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130661818920459634" style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a> <span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: georgia;">Our last trip together, New Years 2002 to Vancouver BC. </span><br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">© by Arlene Ritzhaupt, All rights reserved</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In fond memory of my beloved CPO Edward D. Ritzhaupt </span><br /><span class="st">07/12/1929 - 07/18/2003 </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br /></div>
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