I delivered the Mayor's Heart

I've been trying to digest what transpired today -- I delivered the heart.  But, it has taken me a while to make sense of the results.

I phoned my City Councillor's office and asked if I could drop off this special Xmas present for the Mayor, explaining exactly what it was. After a humourous conversation and discussion, the Councillor's assistant suggested I deliver it directly to the Mayor's office.

My concern (as you might imagine) was that I would be unintentionally involved in explaining myself to an arresting officer, hastily dismissed, or having to explain to the bomb squad that the heart doesn't even actually tick. But no, they put me in touch with 'Tom' in the Mayor's office and he said 'Come on in...'

So, I did.

The office. The Mayor's office. Well, actually only the Mayor's office reception area. (Like I expected he'd actually meet with me? No.)  In I walk. Tom is on the phone speaking with an unhappy Torontonian. (Like I expected he wouldn't be? No.)   Tom... poor, poor Tom.   Must be a tough job being Mr. Ford's assistant.  I look around the office.  Another assistant is up on a ladder taping the Mayor's received Christmas Cards to the glass wall.   I begin thinking 'Wonder if he'll tape my note up there with those notes & wishes'? Um... No.  Finally, I hear "Yes?"   I present Tom with my gift wrapped prezzie.
I explain it's a hand knit Christmas gift for the Mayor.
I tell him it's a heart.

I am then summarily dismissed.

I am not surprised.

In fact, I begin to wonder if my original thought of an off-the-wall yarn-bombing would have been more successful.   Picture this: me on a pink e-scooter, wearing a Margaret Atwood mask, launching the heart like a woolly, fibre-grenade into the Mayor's path.   Juvenile. I know.   But at least he would have seen it, perhaps even read the note.   Instead, Tom tossed it behind him, into a stack of assorted 'obviously this will be recycled soon' things.

Still, I am glad I did it.

I have always believed if you feel strongly about something being wrong, say and do what you can to try and change it.

I have taught my children the same. When my daughter had a complaint about the poor quality of children's programming on Rogers on Demand, I encouraged her to write to Mr. Rogers.  When my son didn't like how a daycare friend was being physical with him, he was taught to say "No Thank You. I don't like it when you do that. You are hurting my body."

What kind of mother would I be if I didn't follow the same advise?

If you feel passionately about something... say something, do something... knit something.

Join me in trying to open the Mayor's eyes, and more importantly, the Mayor's heart.

If you are a knitter, crocheter, painter, sketcher, writer or musician why don't you knit, crochet, paint, draw, write or compose how you feel about these proposed cuts -- they are soon to become very, very real cuts. You must speak up.  Or, in my case, knit up.

It's important speak up, so why not speak simply and say what toddlers learn in daycare:

"No Thank You! I don't like it when you do that. You are hurting my city."

I Knit the Mayor a Heart

This is an anatomically correct, hand-knitted heart.
I knit it 2-sizes too small.
I knit it for you, Mr. Mayor.

The following is an open letter to Rob Ford, Mayor of Toronto.

Dear Mr. Mayor,

Now, please don't you or any of your loyal supporters overreact to this with any knee-jerk hostility.

This doesn't merit a 9-1-1 call.

I'm not a bleeding heart liberal.
I'm not a bike riding pinko.
I'm not Marg Princess Warrior.

I'm just an average Torontonian.

I have lived in this city for almost 25 years.

I work. I volunteer. I pay taxes. I vote in every election. I have a family.

My family borrows books from the libraries. My children enjoy Toronto's Parks&Rec camps, delight in the playgrounds, swim in the public pools & refresh in the splash-pads on oppressively hot summer days. Oh, yes, and my mum is a senior who enrolls in the city's 'active older adults' exercise programmes.

Sometimes I drive and curse the ridiculously bad cyclists.
Sometimes I bike and curse the ridiculously horrible drivers.
Sometimes I walk and curse the cars and the bikes.
Sometimes I take public transportation and curse the crowded subways, streetcars, buses, or long wait times due to inadequate service or availability.

But, I live in Toronto and I love this city.

Right now you and your committees are about to slash all sorts of services: Libraries, Community Centres, Day Care, the TTC, and much, much more. We have all heard about the proposed cuts. We have debated back and forth about them. Mr. Mayor, have you actually experienced any of these services? Have you ever enrolled your children in a Parks and Rec Summer Camp? Taken them to Riverdale Farm? Surely you would see how important and necessary these areas of service are. Have you taken the TTC, not as a novelty experience, or as an occasional alternative but rather: as transportation to and from your place of employment? Try it for a week... during peak hours -- a.m. & p.m. I think you'll learn a lot.

When you start cutting vital services from a city as large as ours, its akin to cutting vital organs out of a living organism. The results: disastrous.

Don't flat-line my city, Mr. Mayor.

Have a Heart!

Tallit - Almost done

It took 3 intense days of pinning, hand sewing and mostly praying to finish the tallit; though until I have the tzitzim properly knotted, it isn't actually complete. The lining is quite painterly & colourful. Hope she likes it!

Zoe's Tallit...

'Where ya been, Rebel?' When I received this text message from my good friend and knit comrade, Guerilla Knitter, I realized I've been living rather quiet as late. Well, not really (just ask the rellies) I've been smithing, like a dutiful knit-gnome, for the past 5 - 6 months (with a lot of end-of-school-thank-you-to-the-teachers gifts, 6 baby hats, a righteous lid or two, a couple of IDF toques and several birthday presents added to the mix) I have been knitting, knitting, knitting a tallit for Zoe's upcoming Bat Mitzvah.
Knitting.
A tallit.
In sock yarn.
Approx. 17" wide & 75" long. Plus the Attarah.
...in sock yarn.

Just out of curiousity I sat down and did the math. That's 89,316 stitches of love and devotion; and that doesn't even include the crocheted finishes. Let's not even go there.

The knitting, crocheting and blocking are all done.

Now comes the hard part: sewing the lining onto the back. I am also hoping to enlist some kind soul to help me knot the tzitzim in the correct way, though our wonderful school principal, Rhonda, led me to a youtube video, a DIY tzitzim knotting adventure. I will try it, but I may seek out some help. Ed? Are you reading this? Can you help me? Pleeeeeease?

Actually, perhaps the most difficult part was selecting the lining with Zoe. Too many choices. "Mum, I love this one," the tweenager exclaimed at the bolt of fabric some may describe as chartreuse, but many have heard me refer to as 'sinus infection green'. 'No.' I curtly replied, a manner Zoe knew not to challenge with an editorial (alas, something quite common these days). Finally, we both found a decent substitute for the $45/yd we both loved -- I needed 2 yards from that divine bolt, so a substitute was a must.

Sewing.
Not my forte.
Time to channel my late father, Abram, 'Master of the Thread'.

Here's some pics of the work in progress:

Blue Attarah is from King Solomon's Woman of Valour Poem
Gold lettering are the 4 Biblical Mothers Sarah, Rivkah, Leah & Rachel.

Mother Bears for Mother's Day

Rudolph and Ed Bimley by Atsuko (& Nomi)

Muffin by Etty (& Atsuko)

Ben by Sandra

Larry by Judith

A sucker for symbolism, I am shipping these latest bears tomorrow:

The Friday before Mother's Day.

About a year ago, I read the quote of a child in Zambia who, upon receiving a 'Mother Bear' said: This bear is my only friend. I said to myself, I want to knit you a hundred.

Knowing that, realistically, I couldn't, I enlisted the help of my community.

A Big Thank you again to all of the knit and crochet artists in our community at The Paul Penna Downtown Jewish Day School for helping Amy at The Mother Bear Project. Thank you for joining me in a wonderful tikkun olam yarn adventure: Debbi Arnold, Cindy Bowman, Etty Danzig, Sandra Harris, Atsuko Kobasigawa, Judith Librach, & Osnat Yitzhak.

Thank you all so much!

- Rosanne

To view the rest of the bears, please see the previous posts:

http://knittishisms.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html

http://knittishisms.blogspot.com/2010/07/next-project-mother-bear.html

Bat Mitzvah Socks

No one is more shocked than I that my first born is turning 12 years old.

It seems like just yesterday that I composed an e-mail to Mayor Mel Lastman making note that, although he had called in the army to shovel away the snow from Toronto, they had somehow managed to miss my street. And as I was in my 15th month of pregnancy (at least that's how it felt to me -- what can I say, when I'm pregnant my math skills wane) would he mind sending them around to my house.

Just a few short weeks later, my Shabbat baby was born. A girl. A bit of a surprise. Turns out every single one of the bubbies, UPS drivers, bank tellers, and pseudo-psychics that felt they just HAD to tell me that from the way I was carrying >> I was definitely going to have a son. And every single one of them was wrong. HA! 100% of those surveyed predicted boy. Funny enough, in the only dream I ever had of my future child when I was pregnant... she was a girl. So, ha ha ha. The only thing was, no one had asked my opinion. I just knew.

Now, here we are just days away from Zoe's 'orthodox' Bat Mitzvah.

According to Orthodox Judaism, a boy attains his religious maturity and becomes responsible to fulfill all the Torah Commandments at 13. A girl at 12. That means, (according to the hebrew calendar), this Tuesday, February 1st, 2011 is Mlle. Z's official Bat Mitzvah date. But if she had been a boy, as all my psychic friends had insisted, his Bar Mitzvah date would be next year on Monday, February 20th, 2012.

And here's the thing. At the Bar Mitzvah service there is a prayer (I can still remember the look of delight in my brother-in-law Brian's eyes when he recited it at the twin's Barmie a year ago) in which he reminded his two sons that he was no longer responsible for their moral decisions. Before reaching the age of maturity, parents are responsible for teaching their children the Jewish law and tradition. Once they enter adulthood, they are given the privilege to take part in all aspects of Jewish community life and carry the responsibility of following Jewish law, tradition and moral obligations. Their deeds, and the deeds' consequences, good or bad, fall on the shoulders of the Bar or Bat Mitvah boy or girl.

What? All of a sudden? Just like that? If we were orthodox, next Tuesday, it's all for real?

Neither Zoe, nor we, were ready to take on, plan and execute a Bat Mitzvah this year. It kind of crept up on us with a little bit of shocking surprise. Also, quite honestly, who am I to pretend that I am orthodox? My religious, moral and ethical mind-set swings far more to the universal. Far more to the Egalitarian. Far more to the 'Hello? This is how I do Jewish'.

So, how was I going to lead my daughter down the path of her Bat Mitzvah?
The only way I knew how.
I knit her a pair of socks.

Seriously.

A pair of hand knit socks.

Made from wool, cotton and soysilk.

These socks are not just pretty designs and colours. Zoe's Torah Portion is Parashat Terumah. As part of the offerings to Moses, the children of Israel are meant to bring blue, purple, and crimson wool, and ram skins dyed red. The colours of the socks include all these colours.

I am telling her: don't just talk the talk of a Bat Mitzvah. I want you to walk the walk of a Bat Mitzvah.

As she studies her portion over the next year, from age 12 to 13, Zoe will walk in these socks and think about right and wrong. Remember to think before she speaks. Question her actions before she partakes in them. Weigh her options and contemplate her position in this world. Only then, I believe, can she (or anyone, male or female) discern between right and wrong and modify her behaviour accordingly.

She will walk with the footsteps of a woman, not a girl.

An adult, not a child.

La danse des oursins, Pt. 2

A second group of bears are being assembled to go off to Amy at Mother Bear.

Meet the new group.

Arnie by Debbi

Blue Barry, by Osnat

Doolia, The Shomer Bear, by Rebel

Josh & Dylz, the twins by Rebel

Tun-O-Fun by Rebel

Toto by Joyce (Martha's Mum)

Fuzzy Bear by Cindy (Thx Wooly!)

D.D. by Rebel

Amanda by Marilyn

Bubbie Bear by Rebel

Zofia pictured above with her creator, Geoff

Recently, Zofia asked her Great Uncle Walter to join her on the journey to Africa. So, Geoff spent much of the holidays getting his brother-in-law 'organized' and has successfully secured a teddy passport for Walter (see above). Thank you, Geoff!

COMING SOON: A Third Shipment

Thank you to Atsuko (and art director Nomi) for the first 2 in the next shipment

Rudolph & Ed Bimley by Atsuko