African flower granny afghan

This is a long-term crochet project. It will be for my beautiful daughter. I expect it to take me at least a year. It's a great project for using up scrap yarn, and something to work on in the relaxing hours of the evening.
When I work on small projects- especially orders from my page- I'm so excited to see the finished product, that I work feverishly on it and it isn't very therapeutic. This is something I can take a more relaxed approach to.
I will start by making 200 african flower granny squares. I have about 30 made so far.
WW yarn (4) mostly, some sport weight (3) mixed in.
Size "I" hook.
I am not joining as I go. Probably the biggest mistake of my life, but I haven't yet decided on a "joining" color for the final round. Usually, this color will make or break the afghan. It ties it all together, obviously, and I have so many colors, and there will be more colors to come. Once I have them all made, it's easier for me to decide the theme. Currently, I'm thinking a pale pink. But that will probably change at least 6 times before I finally buy one.
Yes, I will buy the joining color. I will need quite a bit of it, at least 3 skeins, to join and get a good border around the afghan as well.
I will end up joining them in a similar manner to heidibear's though. More on that to come, but I love this pattern so very much, that I had to share it.  

Everything is bigger in Texas, except for the deer!

My husband comes from a long line of outdoors men. Hunting, fishing, farming. They are true Wisconsinites.
I, on the other hand, come from city folk. Wisconsinites just the same, but certainly not outdoorsy. My father took me camping all of three times in my entire life, and fishing just as much. My grandpa taught me how to filet a bluegill one summer, but that was the extent of my survival techniques.
So when I was integrated in to my husband's family, long before we were married, I was given a crash course in all the wonderful things about living off the land. Gardening, canning, and, yes, processing deer.
My first chance to witness this was a grand occasion. I was 18, and 6 months pregnant with my little man. It was the middle of a Wisconsin winter. All the uncles, some aunts, and a few cousins had all been out hunting that day. They brought home between 3 and 5 deer. I can't remember anymore, maybe it was more than that. Anyway, the skinning and quartering took place out in the garage at grandma's house, where it was good and cold. Then, the quarters were brought into the house, and put down on a big wooden board right on top of the kitchen table.
The house was stuffy, smelly, and hot; from the tenderloins cooking on the stove, from the water bath canner processing batch after batch of venison, from all the warm bodies milling about. A good dozen people all buzzing in and out of the house, working away at getting it all "put up".
Everyone took on a job. Around the table, a few family members gathered to whittle away at each hunk. Cutting meat from bone. Cubing pieces for jars, or scraps for burger. Portioning out the good cuts for freezing. Seasoning the full jars and getting them ready for the canner. Cooking the tenderloins on the stove top so we could all enjoy the spoils we worked for. Running meat into, and then bone out of, the house. It was an amazing experience. One that consumed my senses and, surprisingly, fascinated me.
Of course, Grandma and my mother in law, welcomed me to a seat at the table and I was given lessons. I certainly wasn't going to let them down. I already loved his family. They were the only TRUE family I had ever witnessed and they were welcoming and kind to me when they had every reason not to be. I wanted to fit in with this strong (and hairy) family, and they were willing to let me try. So I swallowed my nausea, put a smile on my face and a knife in my hand. I got to do a little bit of everything, and I loved it. Mostly, I loved the feeling in the house. The feeling of working as a family to provide for the family.
Fast forward 10 years, My husband had finally found a place in Texas to hunt. They were tiny Texas deer, but they were deer. And I was excited!! We all were. We hadn't had venison in years, and our mouths were watering at the thought. Of course, we had to think about how we were gonna get it from animal to plate, but I was eager to take that head on! So after a few calls to the in laws, and a couple youtube videos, I felt prepared to cut up my first deer. Alone.
My husband was going to be anything but helpful, and I didn't feel like he had to be. After all, he's the one who sat in the cold for hours, the one who field dressed, skinned, quartered, and hauled it home....I should do some work too.
When he got a deer, it was about the size of a German shepherd, but it was deer. I felt like it was a good size to practice on.

I had no clue what I had gotten my self into. Once that leg was on my kitchen counter, I picked up the phone again, and again, and again.
I have to say how much I love my in laws. They are a patient bunch, that's for sure, and they love sharing their knowledge. I am blessed to have them.
After 4 hrs, I had fumbled my way though all parts of that deer. Did I screw up the steaks? yep. Did I screw up one of the tenderloins? yep. Did it all taste amazing? Sure did!
Really, I couldn't go wrong. I canned 90% of it, and froze the other 10%, just as my husband's family have been doing for decades.
Now, I know it isn't recommended to can meat in a water bath canner. So I'm gonna say, right now, don't do as do, do as I say, and don't do it!
The second deer he got went a little better. It only took me 3 hours.
Did I screw up the steaks? YEP!

Encouraging Word

I talk about how horrible days can be, a lot. So how do I make it? How do I still smile? 

I keep busy. 

I do anything and everything NOT to think about the situation I'm in. I stay busy. That's what I do. Constantly. Which, between working full time, two kids, and a house to not only clean, but maintain and upgrade...it's not hard to stay busy! 
I focus on how to get out of this situation. Being the best I can be at my job. Being the best I can be as a mother. Brainstorming with the husband on how to get out of this mess. Until I am so exhausted by the time I lay down with my bible, I can hardly keep my eyes open.
I read scripture. Daily. Not a ton, but enough to bring me some peace or hope or strength. 

Scripture has brought me great comfort.

 "The Lord provides" has been a good one. Even when I was everything but deserving, he still provided.
"Do not worry." the Lord says this many times. On my worst days, He says this to me.
"With God, all things are possible." He gives me the strength. Sometimes minute by minute. Deep breath, and "With God".
 I was already blessed with a dear friend, we will call her Beth. I have known her for three years and she has been my spiritual mentor. She is close to twice my age, with a daughter who is my age. I met her by chance and she has been nothing but a blessing from day one. She is truly a gift from God. She has kept me from straying and been a wealth of knowledge. I can only pray to one day be as kind and loving as she is. She is an amazing example of a good christian woman...something I am far from. She has put up with me when I have been a less than willing student and has always encouraged me. Needless to say, she has been more so lately. I know she has a ton of things on her plate, yet she still takes time out to meet with me a few times a month. I was never a strong believer growing up, but circumstances in my life over the past 10 years have slowly made me a firm believer.

 I don't think about the future.

 I do, but I don't. I think enough about the future to get the ball rolling, but if I think about it too much, I start to freak out. I have to, someday, come to the realization that LIFE has no plan. There are no guarantees. I thought I had a plan. I thought I had guarantees. But, well, I didn't. Even if I did, they are gone now, so no use thinking about that. It only makes me want to cry, and well, there's a time and a place for that, but that time is not right now.

I surround myself with positivity.

 I liked positive and uplifting pages on my personal fb page. I deleted those that brought me down or didn't contribute. I did the same in my personal life. The people who didn't give two shits about me, I stopped giving two shits about them. I have too much to worry about to care who doesn't want to be in my life. Did I lose people that I thought were my best friends? Sure did! Did I cry over it? Sure did! But now, I spend my precious time with people I really like and who really like me. They were people I never expected, but they are genuine and I often feel unworthy of their friendship.

KLOVE 

on the radio in my car. I cannot tell you how much of a blessing that has been. God truly speaks through them... on my worst days, and on my good days.  

Consider the Ravens

I am in the midst of the grind. 

I landed a job as the manager of a deli...yep. Hard to believe, but I did it! I'm doing it! The stress that comes with that job...ugh...but it helps pay the bills and I'm generally happy there. It's a small business, and I have a good boss. I find it very hard to leave work, at work. I take a lot home with me. Mistakes I've made during the day. Tasks yet to be completed. Sometimes that place even takes over my dreams. ugh ugh ugh. I take 5-htp to help me sleep, and a B complex during the day. I don't know if it really helps, but maybe it does, and I really don't want to find out if it doesn't. St. john's wort worked for the depression, for a while. But, as is common, it sent my anxiety into overdrive. It got me through the worst days though. I can actually say that now...the worst days. Yes, I think those are in the past.

Things are far from good, but physically, mentally, well.....

Working, taking care of the kids, and cleaning house take up a large amount of my time. Finding a balance is a constant struggle. My husband found a job, but works out of town during the week...for now. He says that will change soon...I hope so. 

Right now, right effing now, I'm doing it all, all on my own. Some days I wonder if it's worth it. I feel alone a lot. I only see my husband on the weekends, and I'm looking at working the next two weekends. double UGH! Then I talk to my love, pray, read scripture, or meet up with a friend for a little bit, and I find the strength to keep going. 

Depression and anxiety cycle. 

Some days, I can feel the depression settling in the bottom of my gut. Dragging me down, making me want to give up and cry. Sometimes I do give in and cry. I can't count how many times I've cried in my car before picking the kids up from the sitter. I let it out, sob, as hard as I can. I don't give a shit who sees me. I need it. I can't keep it all stuffed in...it's too much. Then I dry my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and jump back into life. 

Other days, the anxiety is so overwhelming it hurts...actually hurts...to take a deep breath. The muscles in my stomach and chest are so tight, that it hurts to stretch them enough to take a good breath. I have to remind myself to take a few deep breaths several times a day. Even if things tighten right back up, at least i relaxed for a few seconds, and something is better than nothing. I've discovered a new symptom of anxiety as well. oh joy! Rashes..all over my hands and forearms. At first it looked and felt like dry skin...all peeling and itchy red bumps. horrible. I assumed it was from the soap at work. I'm washing my hands over a dozen times a day. After trying a few different lotions, and nothing helping, I remembered my dad having a similar issue. He was a weapons loader in the Air Force, and was always getting oil and grease all over his hands. I remembered how dry and cracked they would get. So I sent him a message "hey dad, did you ever find something that helped your hands? mine are terrible." He replied, "You know what, I did. I saw a dermatologist a long time ago. He said it was from stress. Once I stopped worrying about shit I could do nothing about, it went away." Words of wisdom from my dad. :)

Three Meals

With My love working out of town during the week, I've had to get creative with meals. When he was transitioning out of the Air Force, he was home earlier than I was, so he was making dinner. Now, I get off at 5 pm most days, sometimes not til 8. His job is putting him up in a hotel during the week, and I couldn't very well have him eating out all the time. Not only is it expensive, but unhealthy. Above all, I'm still a good mother and wife, and part of that is making sure everyone is well fed. So I did some digging online, pooled knowledge from good friends, and started making freezer meals. 

At first, I took a few hours on my day off day, and made three big meals. Chicken Florentine. Lasagna, and Jambalaya. I have LOVED skinnymom.com for a long time. Her recipes helped me to track calories and lose some of that baby weight! I made a double batch of the lasagna sauce. It's a family favorite and I could put some over spaghetti noodles later. It was a crazy mess, but in the end, I had a freezer full of meals. I portioned some in quart sized zipper bags for the husband to take, and some in gallon sized bags for me and kids. 

Three meals for the week may not seem like a lot, but on the days when I wanted to collapse upon walking in the door, the ease and comfort they provided was almost divine! Those 3 meals put me a week ahead of the game. (score!) I am now able to make a few large meals during the week or on my days off, and freeze some away. On the days I work, I use my crock pot. The kids and I eat that for dinner, and I freeze the leftovers for my husband to take the next week. On my days off, I cook two big meals, one for lunch, and one for dinner, and portion the leftovers. Do I sometimes feel like I spend too much of my time cooking? planning meals and grocery store trips? YES! But when my love calls and says "my roommate is jealous of my dinner" or the kids and I are sitting around the table, eating, and talking about our day, it is ALL worth it!