toys

Loaded For Bear

If you’ve followed me for long, you know my teddy bear has always been a source of empowerment.

Ten years ago I started knitting these little darlings because I was homeless. I sold enough to finally have an apartment. I beat that situation with a little knit teddy bear. About five years later I continued to knit and sell teddy bears so I could build a brand with a logo, with a story…..and about five years after that I had grown so tired of knitting the same thing over and over that I just stopped completely. The monotony was boring me, killing me. Humdrum can be deadly.

A few days ago I was peeking through an old box of yarn, yearning for that delicious alpaca mix that my bears were made of. I found it, touched it, pressed it to my face….a sigh. I showered, I shaved, finally ate some food. This cancer scare has me stressed and when I’m stressed I do not eat. And to be fair, when I get a little too cerebral, I don’t think about self care. I’m too in my head to look at a mirror.

I got to work right away. Invigorated. Optimistic. That first teddy bear I knit and finished was like meeting an old friend. That old friend had the same face from before. Patience. Understanding. Care.

“I’m here whenever you need me,” his face said. “No conditions…..”

“Thank you!”

I have to have more tests done to see if I have cancer. My next one is tomorrow. A CT scan of my chest. I hate when making the appointment that they remind you the test is for lung cancer. (QUIT SAYING THAT!!!!)

I have to pay out of pocket now that my insurance company dropped me. So, my teddy bear has come back into my life to save me again. If I can sell these bears, I’ll have the funds to pay for not only the CT scans tomorrow, but the blood tests I have to do later this week.

No matter what the tests say, no matter what the conclusion is, I’ll be walking into an oncologist’s office, clutching a little teddy bear saying, “I’m ready. What’s the diagnosis?”

My little teddy bears are in my shop.

Yes, How Sweeeet is THIS????

So, a delightful woman in Atlanta needed a bear rushed to Louisiana for a special young boy’s birthday. Boom! I jumped on it quick, rushed it to the front of the line. I received  photos from her this morning and had to post them. You see? YOU SEE WHY I DO THIS??? These photos break my heart and inspire me. So, I want to see them all! All of you, send me pics of your bears in their new homes, with their new loved ones! Rescued bears bring tears to my eyes. And this boy, says the wonderful woman in Atlanta, never lets go of his new friend.

Adopt a Teddy

Ok, everyone. “Phillip’s Teddy” needs to be adopted today. I hate to see the little bugger go, but we need the money. The proceeds will go to buy milk, eggs, rice, beans, and cornbread mix. Its a six mile walk for me to get to the little general store in town, and since I’m heading up there to send the Little Pink Sweater to its new owner, would like to send Phillip’s Teddy to, avoiding another 6 mile walk, and grab some more staples while I’m there.

Phillip’s Teddy

I finally finished the bear I was working on. I call him “Phillip’s Teddy” because I was thinking an awful lot about my partner while working up the stuffing and stitches. The last 6 months have been rough for us because we haven’t been able to be together, and for the damndest of reasons: finances. But, we have hope, we have faith, and I am convinced that during our darkest of moments, we’re able to remember that the bond that he and I have cultivated cannot be shred by something as ridiculous as poverty. This bear reminds me of so many philosophies along those same lines. The teddy bear looks like it was handcrafted by someone caring for a boy who doesn’t know he’s poor (unless someone tells him). It looks like the kind of teddy bear that a boy alone on a farm clings to for companionship and love, uncaring of his imperfections and strange stitching. If we consider this crafting of knitting an art form, which it surely can be, then I’m watching my own particular art form turn into a lost version of Americana’s Folk roots in rural life. And if that’s the case, then this little teddy bear is definitely a portrait of a poor boy alone on a farm…. holding on tight to hope….I love you, Phillip. Here is your teddy bear. I miss you.