bliss out, man.
Marnie introduced me to Regina Spektor several summers ago, and I was hooked on her voice. BUT…you know, you have too huge a library (my iTunes library 7,082 items) and you don’t always feel like going through it to create playlists but it’s too varied to just random play it, so you tend to rely on the same old playlists all the time. When I’m listening to it at home and not on my iPod, I love the Genius playlists, and try to seed them with music that I like but that’s not on my regular old playlists I’ve listened to a thousand times.
So I’m feeling a good bit of bliss – it is a gorgeous day, I’m making shrimp ceviche and cold cucumber soup, and I’m knitting on Peasy quite happily, and listening to music. I seeded a Genius playlist with Light and Day, by Polyphonic Spree, since that song totally totally blisses me out, man, and I wanted to see what songs would come up as related in some way.
And I came to Someday, by Regina Spektor. She is amazing, if you haven’t heard her. Here’s a live performance of the song on The Tonight Show:
Such a unique voice and woman.
new york photos
We took a little stroll over to the Columbia University campus since it seems all the students are back in town. Yep. They are. Say goodbye to relatively easy parking and enjoyable evenings at neighborhood restaurants. You click each image to see it better.
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- the sidewalks are crowded again – the students are back
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- looking downtown — that’s Amsterdam Ave.
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- that’s an absolutely HIDEOUS sculpture thing, in front of Columbia Law School
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- splashing water from the big fountain
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- the iconic building that symbolizes Columbia University
Yeah. I do love this city. And we’re facing an absolutely gorgeous weekend, hallelujah! Have fun y’all.
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c is for cookie, that’s good enough for me.
You know I love to bake. Always have. And while I usually talk about it over on Luscious, I mentioned in the last post that I was making oatmeal cookies today. I would so dearly love to have one of these warm oatmeal cookies I keep pulling out of the oven…..o yes i would….but I’m on my diet, and doing well, so I resist.
SO many cookies! Towers of cookies! Watch out, Marnie!!
That photo is of a different kind of oatmeal cookies, one with peanut butter and chocolate (my old post on Luscious is here, but you’ll find the recipe here), of a batch I made back in September 2008, but I thought I’d “repurpose” the photo for this post. The batch I made today is just your basic plain old delicious oatmeal cookie. I’m sure you have a recipe already, but if you don’t, this one’s dang good. I always add a bit of cinnamon, which the recipe doesn’t mention.
If you were to come over for a visit, I’d give you some cookies. I would.
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books and cookies. if that won’t make you read this, i give up on you.
Obviously, I love books and words. I got my first library card when I was 3, and every year I won the award for having read the most books during the year, when I was in elementary school. (The prize was a new book!) My graduate research was all about words. I write a lot, I kind of have logorrhea or something. 
I spent a number of years acquiring books for a couple of publishers. Now I edit books. Me + books = Big Love.
When the first Kindle came out, I was curious, but like so many book lovers I love the bookness of books – the smell, the touch, the thingness of it, the heft, the look, the everything. I have a favorite publisher (Vintage): my favorite because they publish authors and titles that have meant a lot to me, and I really love their designs, both interior and cover. Their books are instantly recognizable (even to the touch) and beautiful.
Still, I bought a Kindle immediately, partly because I’m an early adopter of all things gadget, and partly because I live in Manhattan and don’t have very much room. I’ve spent a large fortune moving my huge library of books all around the country, but since I moved here I had to prune. I didn’t think I could let go of any single book, but I did. Then I had to prune again. And again. And again. One book coming in means one needs to leave. So the Kindle seemed like an ideal option; plus, I can have LOTS of books at my fingertips when I travel. Little did I know it would completely transform my reading……as in, I read even more! It’s fantastic. I love my Kindle. Love it love it love it, wouldn’t go back. I still buy books, but I’m much more selective, and buy a hardback if it’s really special in some way.
Anyway. Now that I’m self-employed, and underemployed at this point, book purchases are definitely a luxury. Definitely. Often I want a knitting pattern that’s only published in a book, but there aren’t enough patterns I’d want to knit to justify the purchase – and that’s especially true now, as I watch my pennies. Then it hit me: GET A LIBRARY CARD!
The last library card I had was a small card made of very heavy cardstock with rounded corners, and a metal plate in the center with my number on it. My name was typed on an old-fashioned hammer typewriter in something like Courier. I can still feel it in my hand, I nearly wore the thing out. Want to see what they look like now?
Library Card: the regular and keychain editions!
There’s a branch of the library 2 blocks from my apartment. I can go online and request books from the entire NYPL system and they get sent to my branch, which then emails me. Easy breezy. I like the electronic swipey thing, but I miss that old metal plate.
Each neighborhood in Manhattan has its own reputation; mine, the Upper West Side, is the literary neighborhood, the cultural part of town, etc. I love that! And since I live a couple of blocks from Columbia University, we also have all that intellectual stuff. Within 2 blocks of my apartment are 3 independent bookstores, can you imagine that? Columbia U has a Barnes & Noble, so that’s right there too.
Book Culture - a great GREAT independent bookstore, and nice description of my neighborhood!
The Bank Street Bookstore for kids, parents, & teachers
So shop independent when you can, yo.
It’s an absolutely letter-perfect day here. Very sunny, bright blue skies, little puffy white clouds, 70 degrees and very low humidity, and that certain feeling in the air….I’m sure you know what I mean. It’s a lovely day to be alive.
my street
So happy Friday, y’all! I’ve got an editing job for a Canadian guy who has written a book for young boys (the story is based on his childhood in New Zealand in the 1960s, so it’s fun for me to read too!), and I’m going to make a big batch of oatmeal cookies, but I won’t eat a single one since I’m on a diet. And you know how good the house smells when cookies are baking…….
it’s red, cherry red, and it’s shaped like a heart. What do you .. .hey, don’t run away!!
Like everyone else in the Madelinetosh Yarn Club, I am anxiously awaiting delivery of this month’s package, which is 3 skeins of pashmina. The last pashmina I got in the club was a wonderful color – (mineral, click here for the post with those photos), so I’m excited to see what I’ll get this month. Every day I have ants in the pants waiting for the mailman.
Today I got a plump package in the mail, and I quickly looked at the return address. No Madelinetosh, but instead some gorgeously-colored Louet Euroflax:
two scratchy skeins of this wonderfully-colored linen
I’m making two Monteagle Bags with the skeins, for these two wonderful friends of mine. Two really powerful and smart and warm and just great women who have changed my life in important ways. Every year I make them each a gift, and I decided to do something different this year. Instead of alpaca or cashmere scarves, as in years past, I’ll give them a little gift they can use all year long.
I heard something scratching at the door a few minutes ago…..scritch, scritch, tap, tap…..what is that? Could it be my mojo?
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have you seen it? did it run past here?
Creative people, knitters, makers, sewists (I still can’t get used to that word), I know you’ve faced this problem before. Me too. My mojo done hightailed it outta here.
At first I thought it was due to stockinette boredom. That makes sense, right? I have my Mondo Cable cardigan, and my Peasy sweater, and then I cast-on a stockinette hat (wasn’t thinking about variety, there), so I yielded to the siren call of the Cascade Eco Duo seductively reaching out from my knitting bag, and cast on a little hat. Colorwork, Stockinette Gone Wild, small, shaping, variety.
Bleh. Nothing. Nothing is jumping into my hands. In fact, evenings pass without my having much interest in picking up any of my projects…..and I don’t think the solution is to cast on something wild to jazz things up. I think my mojo has left the building.
oh peasy, you haunt my waking moments. Both sleeves finished, hoofing it down the body, row after row after row....
I want to get that sweater finished to wear to Rhinebeck. And then:
snowflake hat in cascade eco duo, you certainly do delight
Really soft, really pretty, fun to work…..not feeling it.
I think the solution is to let the mojo come back whenever it’s ready, and not fret about it. Instead, I’ve been reading a little more, trying to finish Let the Great World Spin. Walking a little more. Watching TV at night. Going on little photo shoot treks around my neighborhood. And – oh! Yesterday I read a pretty great novel by a new Nigerian author; it was an editorial gig I scored, and the author is really an author, not a typist (which is a Truman Capote distinction….he called Jack Kerouac a typist ).
So this explains the distinct lack of knitting content on this alleged knitting blog lately. I’ve tried to hide it by talking about random other stuff, but I’ll bet you noticed. You’re smart that way.
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no calories goals or weight-loss goals. instead, just 2 weeks.
I’ve lost enough weight, enough times, to equal a small army of people. Or is that an army of small people. Whatever. 50 pounds this time, 50 pounds that time, 35 here, 25 there. Yeah. One of those yo-yo people. (I just love bread way too much for my own good, and for the good of my trunk. Bread and potatoes, ooh la la, never met one I didn’t love.) I’m tall, 5’10″, so it takes a while for weight gain to show on me.
Usually, I start off with a specific weight loss goal in mind. I start well, thinking I’ll eat X calories a day, and I’ll just be very healthy and eat exactly the right things. A few days in, I’m starving myself and eating less and less. I’m VERY good at doing that. I’m obviously less good at managing a just-right norm.
Recently, Marnie started wondering if she has a gluten sensitivity, so she set off on a 2-week experiment. Well, I started thinking about that approach for myself. Instead of focusing on a specific weight-loss goal, I’ll set myself a 2-week goal. For two weeks, I will eat carefully, and significantly less. And no bread or potatoes or cake or cobbler, either. Fruit is in glorious season, which definitely helps.
I’m on day 3 and going strong, and the framework makes the whole thing different for some reason! On September 9, I end this diet, no matter what. If I want to keep going I can, for another set period of time, but if I don’t, that’s just fine. Secretly I hope I want to keep going, and secretly I think that if I have lost weight I’ll definitely want to keep going, but I stop this on September 9.
Other times, I kind of obsessively weighed myself every day, first thing in the morning. This time, I weighed myself on Monday, when I started, and I won’t weigh again until next Monday, and then again on the day my diet ends.
And in the funny way the mind works, I swear my jeans are loose already.
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glum ain’t nowhere, man.
what does HE have to be so glum about?! The wet diaper, maybe.
First of all, when I went to Google images to see what came up with the search “glum,” among the top photos were photos of Reese Witherspoon! Scroll down a bit, you get Paris Hilton and other pseudocelebrities. What the hell do they have to be so glum about, anyway.
Hmph. And harrumph.
I don’t know why I am so glum, but I know a few people who are feeling it too. Not bad, exactly, just, well, glum. Not blue, not consumed by the mean reds, just glum. I feel a distinct lack of energy to do anything. Knitting? Nah, not right now. Reading? Maybe later. Baking? Meh. Writing? Bleh.
Maybe it’s the time of year – the winding-down of summer, the inbetweenness of it. It’s not summer exactly but it is. It’s not fall yet but it’s so close I can feel it. It’s gross weather, and the light is even kind of glum.
The thing about glum is its nowhereness. It’s not depressed, which calls for a certain kind of response. It’s not angry or even bored, which call for different responses. It’s just glum. Blah. Empty of motivation, a little quiet in the head, but not in that good way.
I wonder if you are glum, too, and I wonder what you do with the glums.
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JewBu poetry and a farting aerobics instructor. I cover it all.
I seem to be gathering words about me today, so I share some of my favorites here (a) in case you like them too, and (b) so I have them at my fingertips.
First, though, before the fancy-schmancy, this little 21-second giggle. Bless her heart. And have your volume turned up so you can hear it.
Now, the poems:
CLICK to continue reading a words-focused day... Continue reading »
saturday in the park i think it was the 4th of july. no, wait, that’s not right.
I return there again and again – partly because (as I’ve said so many times) it’s practically my backyard, but also because I love it, and find it beautiful and always worth walking through. I just took a little steamy walk through Riverside Park (hey! not that kind of steamy….. steamy because it’s muggy and there’s not much of a breeze).
I passed one of the many playground areas and I was struck by the kids. There were 4 little girls, all unrelated to each other, black brown and white, and they were all wearing pink. Two little boys, neither of whom were wearing pink.
Anyway. Take a walk with me.
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- steamy summer saturday in riverside park
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- what the young ‘uns do in the park
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- Peter Pan Dad – he’s either a great dad, or a strange man.
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- sharp and pointy
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- i love the wrinkly skin of plane trees. This looks like my knee, with the sagging skin above the knee. Well, kind of.
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- she was a charmer, a charmer of highest degree (anyone know the song?)
Now I’m making three loaves of ciabatta, working on my website, and getting ready to knit. Saturdays are awesome.
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there (Phoenicia/Catskills) and back (Manhattan) again.
It was – the weather wasn’t as clear and sunny as I thought it was going to be, but it was great. Since the sky was kind of overcast, it helped add to the fall feeling in the air….and I kept reminding myself “hey! It’s only mid-August! Hold on there, pardner.”
I wandered around, walked over the Esopus River, walked down to the riverside, ate amazing wood oven pizza at Brio’s, drove around the Hunter Mountain ski area, walked around, I knitted on the porch at dusk, then I just hung in the cabin after dark. And another hey!! You know how they’re always filming L&O in my part of town? Well, the episode I watched last night involved a murder that happened where I was last night, around Kingston. I kid you not. WTF L&O. That’s kinda creepy.
Got some rounds done on my Starry Night hat, since it’s totally mindless stockinette, but not much else knitting-wise. Here’s the photoset (18 pics) if’n you’re interested:
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the leaf fell. we know what that means…..
We’re here! Pine needles and pine cones on the ground, and look at what I saw by our front porch. Lovely and colorful evidence of the world continuing to turn. It’s coming….
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do i dare to eat a peach?
No one likes to be a stereotype. I can probably state that unequivocally. But let’s talk about me: I don’t like to be such a stereotype, but there you go. I am. I wasn’t as sophisticated as Prufrock, wondering if I dare to eat a peach; when I moved back to Austin TX in 1998, to begin graduate school (I’d lived there from 1964-1971, then 1977-1985), I was one of ‘those’ people, one of the old Austinites. I’m sure they have the local version in your town. Everywhere I went, it was like this:
Over there, that used to be X.
That restaurant? Oh, that used to be Y.
This whole area used to be considered out in the country.
Even I got tired of hearing myself say those things! I couldn’t seem to stop myself, though. Used to be used to be used to be. I guess it’s a hazard of aging.
So I just realized that two of my favorite places on Facebook are Does you ‘member when? Austin, TX version and Young County, Texas History. The Austin link makes me feel kind of pathetic, like I should just get over my aging self. But the Young County history link is amazing! I was born in Young County, which is in north Texas. Some of that history is really fascinating…. from long before I came along, in 1958. For example, recent posts:
L.P. “Uncle Pink” Brooks took the job as second Sheriff of Young County in 1876 when the first Sheriff, Richard Kirk was killed. Since Graham didn’t have a jail at that time, “Uncle Pink” would take the prisoners home. Sheriff Brooks never had a prisoner escape.
”The White Man” was a newspaper published in 1858 at Jacksboro and 1860 at Weatherford, Texas by John R. Baylor and H.A. Hamner. The newspaper led the anti-Indian movement for three years inciting local settlers against all natives, even attacking peaceful Indians. The papers are incredibly scarce, but can be found in the area.
Wild, right? Those stories don’t make me an old fart trying to relive some vague “glory days”…..right?
getting old isn’t for sissies. that’s .. .wait, what was I saying?
When I was a very little girl, I read a lot of serial novels about girls doing exciting things. Cherry Ames, Student Nurse. Loved her. The Boxcar Children, always fun to see what they were up to. And like many little girls I loved Nancy Drew. Nancy and her chums Bess and George, and her boyfriend Ned – ever so much more interesting than dumb Barbie and her boyfriend Ken, and her cousin Scooter. Oh, you didn’t know she had a cousin named Scooter? Yeah, isn’t that dumb? But Nancy, the titian-haired girl detective, always falling into mysteries. I envied her that. I wondered why she couldn’t seem to turn a corner without getting involved in the mysterious, while that NEVER happened to me. Ever. I thought maybe it was because her father Carson was a lawyer. He always had these cases that were tricky, and like all lawyer fathers do, he’d ask his daughter for advice or help. Dang. Why didn’t my dad become a lawyer.
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- this one kept me up one night
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- and this one – remember it well!
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- i LOVED this book!
Well, for anyone else who has had that same woeful experience as a child, let me tell you that your chance will come. My life is now constantly full of mysteries. “Where did this paper tape come from, I have two rolls in the medicine cabinet! I didn’t buy them?” “No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.” OR “Didn’t we just have a whole bag of chips? What happened to them, I didn’t eat them.” “Neither did I, I have no idea what happened to them. I remember buying them.” And the mystery that keeps repeating itself: “Where are my glasses? I just had them.” And its cousin, “Where are my keys, have you seen them?” And the always popular “Now why did I come into this room?”
Paging Nancy Drew.
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wow – linoleum block prints of gannets. who’d a thunk they’d be so amazing and special…
I knew Marnie was making her thank you cards for the wedding gifts she and Tom received. So I knew they’d be way cooler than anything I would’ve ever thought of. Sure enough, my card arrived today. And this concludes the wedding posts!
even the BACK of the envelope is cool
remember the papier mache gannets she hung from the tent rafters? here they are again.
lovely graceful words on the right, out of sight, but look at her drawings of the dress and the shawl. she's always done this.
She specializes in artist’s books, letterpress, and hand-carved woodblock and linoleum prints. Her favorite is the artist’s book, I think. But if you like her style, she has an etsy shop – MonkeyRope Press. There might be a little gift for anyone who gets the reference in her store’s name. I’m just saying. Support artists! I know I’m preaching to the choir, with this crowd, but still.
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in which I give up my self-scolding and knit a freaking hat.
Aside from my sense of relative boredom with all the sweater stockinette that drove me to start a new project, there’s one other factor. Getting something done! Sure, I can knit and knit and knit and end up with a few rows on my sweater, or I can spend the same amount of time and get 1/3 of the way through a hat [rav link]!
it's just as soft as it looks!
I can't decide if I want to touch it, wear it, or eat it!
The rows zip by, only 96 sts per row, and there’s all the fun of stranding and color changes and pattern emerging. After the snowflake, just several rows of round and round, then the shaping. FUN fun fun. I agree Jocelyn – having projects to swap back and forth keeps me knitting! No more of this scolding myself.
Anyway, this is all but pleasure and fun and enjoyment! If I need something to scold myself over, it could be the 30th pound of pickles. Or something.
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if only all problems were this small.
Well, knitting friends, I’ve gone back and forth, like this:
I’m pretty sick of stockinette and want to start a new project.
Don’t do that- you’ll never finish these sweaters!
But I really want to cast-on with the Cascade Eco Duo.
If you just focus and spend your time with the sweaters, they’ll be done and you know you are going to love them.
I know, but….
Forget it. Just stick with your sweaters. Stick with it.
Yeah. Just when I think I’ve decided something, the other voice starts making a lot of sense. So there I sat with the last point, sticking with my sweaters.
And then I decided, screw it. I’m casting on. Laura mentioned a hat with snowflakes, and I think that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll knit the background with the luscious hazelnut Cascade Eco Duo, and the snowflakes with the vanilla Eco Duo. As Laura said, the snowflakes should really pop against that beautiful brown.
And then, if I have enough yarn left, I think I’ll knit these mitts – I’ll use the vanilla as the background, since I’ll have much more of it left, and the owls with the brown, assuming I have some left.
Also, one kind of embarrassing confession: when the current batch of his homemade pickles is gone, we (which really means I) will have eaten 30 pounds of pickles this summer. Yikes. When you put it that way, I am a piggie!
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awww….sesame street was so great.
Girls, remember these? I sure do.
sometimes morning really has broken.
After three nights in a row featuring outstanding nightmares (night 1: Hitler! night 2: zombies! night 3: covered in insects and they’re even crawling out of my nose and mouth!), I’m grateful for these things:
- an absolutely gorgeous morning, weather-wise. no humidity or excessive heat, just 74 lovely degrees and blue and sunny skies
- a Chinatown run, which means (1) lots of fresh cherries, (2) a bunch of seafood, and (3) very interesting vegetables.
- my favorite music on the iTunes playlist: annie lennox, john prine, REM, feist, amos lee, elton john, diana krall, and bluegrass
- homemade blueberry coffeecake for breakfast, with a big mug of really great coffee
- the pleasure of having done work that was FUN and also well received
- a long day, stretching out in front of me with open arms and nothing planned
Hope it’s the same for all of you. I’m off to actually do something. First, though, I’ve gotta do the twist – “you never can tell” by chuck berry is on!
edit, after dancing: when my kids were little, and i was going to school full-time and working and raising them by myself, i had 4 chore lists – 3 kid-friendly and one for me. each week, the kids’ lists rotated. we’d do a cleaning blitz…we’d each take our list of chores, do them in a pre-arranged amount of time then we’d all meet in the living room when the timer went off. i’d put American Pie on, and we’d dance dance dance until we fell on the ground in a sweaty out-of-breath pile. we’d do the fun and easy dances – the twist, the monkey, the pony, the swim – it didn’t matter. it was just so much fun, and one of my favorite memories. dancing in the living room is the BEST.
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i don’t know what to do. really. please help me solve my knitting problem. AND DON’T LAUGH.
Colossus of Rhodes
I guess I fall on the process side of the process/product divide (here’s an aside for any reader who isn’t a knitter: we are process knitters if it’s really the process we enjoy [and some of us are even pre-process knitters], otherwise we’re just after the end result). Of course I also adore the products, and love having my handmade work as part of my daily life. I guess I’m like the Colossus of Rhodes, straddling the harbor – one foot firmly planted in the process, the other firmly adoring the product.
ANYWAY. Geez, I get off track so easily. When I started composing the post in my head, I thought I’d open with the first lines of The Odyssey, about asking the muse to sing. I must be in some Classics/Ancient Greek head today.
ANYWAY. Good grief. OK, to my point. I am languishing in stockinette wasteland. (oh yeah – this is why I brought up process knitting. I do love the process, but I’m going really bored with stockinette! sorry for rambling…) I’m nearly finished with Peasy‘s 2nd sleeve, and have been randomly working body rows when the round-and-round-and-round of the sleeve starts to be too hypnotic. Yay! An alternating purl row! Variety! (sidebar note: I once had a knitting blog called I Hate the Purl Row but decided that was a little too harsh.)
ANYWAY. So if I’m tired of Peasy, I can work on …… my Mondo Cable cardigan. Also at the sleeves, and also all stockinette. OK, so that’s wearing a little thin and boring? How about my subway knitting……oh yeah. Stockinette hat, knit in the round.
So one project is sock yarn, and not all that soft and lovely a sock yarn either. One project is madelinetosh merino, o so soft and lovely. And the other is Rowan Felted Tweed – scratchy and rustic. I can focus on the yarns to experience some variety, but I think I’m coming down with a case of startitis. I suspect I’ve been infected by
don't you want to rub them against your cheek? 70% baby alpaca, 30% merino
Cascade Eco Duo. Two skeins – hazelnut and vanilla. Only 197 yards each, aran weight. Oh y’all….they’re so soft it’s like lying down in a field of puppies. Or bunnies. And having fairies kiss your cheeks, while dusting your nose with marshmallows.
SEE?! See how they’ve hypnotized me! The problem is that I need to make something with them, and now….but do I use them both, in some stripey scheme? Or make something precious with one of them – there’s the 198 Yards of Heaven shawl (dang, I have 197 ). But I don’t want to just pick something, anything, just because it’ll work with the yarn.
aaaaaargh!!!!!!!! The paralysis of a perfect yarn. All advice and recommendations welcomed.
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help me! All you need to do is retweet something…..such a little thing..
Wa-hoo! I was hired to write a book review for Psych Central, and it was published today, I think (maybe yesterday, don’t know for sure). Anyway, the founder of the site emailed me to ask if I’d be interested in doing more writing for the site….beyond book reviews, I think. Still waiting to hear.
But I could use your help! If you are on Twitter or facebook, and if you don’t mind doing this, could you tweet it (or facebook it, or stumble it, there are lots of social networking options at the bottom of the article). Here’s a link to the book review: “The Skinny on Willpower”. If you scroll down to the end of the article, there’s a button to tweet the piece, and then the other options too.
Caveats: I know I am making much of a book review. But it’s the first piece of writing I’ve done that I was paid for (and paid pretty well!), and I hope it helps me get other writing gigs. Also, I have no idea if a little viral social networking will help me, but I do know it can’t hurt me! If you are one of the ones who loves me, could you also ask your friends and loved ones to do it too?
Thanks, my friends. I really mean that. And very shortly we will return to knitting content. Since – after all, according to the masthead – this site is about life with needles and thread.
do you need an editor? HIRE ME!
Yeah, I’m shamelessly stealing from my daughter Marnie. When she was facing a life change, she put a note out on her facebook page, asking people to keep her in mind when opportunities came up that might fit with her skills. As an academically-minded person, she included a citation:
“In my empirical study of recent job changers, I found, in fact, that if weak ties are defined by infrequent contact around the time when information about a new job was obtained, then professional, technical, and managerial workers were more likely to hear about new jobs through weak ties (27.8 percent) than through strong ones (16.7 percent), with a majority in between (55.6 percent).”
-Granovetter, “The Strength of Weak Ties,” 1974
So in the same spirit, and with a bit of happy experience under my belt, I do the same thing here. One of my friends who comments here, and who I met through Ravelry (hi again Kelly!), has already helped me. I just finished an editorial assignment that I got from an agent Kelly connected me with. And in the true spirit of weak connections, it wasn’t actually an assignment from the agent, but rather from a friend of hers who happened to mention that she was writing a book proposal. (thank you Kelly!)
Oh, the strength of weak ties. What good is this social networking thing, if we don’t put things out there? If we don’t occasionally shake the ropes and see how far out they ripple?
So here’s what I do, and if you know someone who knows someone who knows someone who needs me, please think of me! Having been an acquiring editor for a major publisher, I know what publishers need and want, and can provide invaluable assistance to authors who are preparing proposals, or who have written manuscripts. I wear my acq ed hat, and I also wear my in-depth editor’s cap, which allows me to see the book that may be buried in a not-quite-there manuscript.
I also have a strong background in market research; you know the Harris Poll? Yeah, I worked for them and used my background in survey design as a social psychologist, along with my research and analytical skills. Most recently I used those skills to help publishers do research around new online products. But whatever! I know how to craft questions to get real answers, and I know how to program surveys and prepare the results.
Up there at the top of my site, just under the masthead, is a new tab labeled Hire me! See it? It goes to my professional site. And while I am shy about this, there’s a page in my professional site that includes comments from my authors. They were awfully nice.
Even though I have a particular grace and skill at just being myself and being charming, no one has paid me to do that just yet. So I’m in the market for work, doncha know, and if you know someone (who knows someone who knows someone…..), please think of me! I’d do the same for you, I promise.
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take a walk through morningside heights with me – let’s listen to a little music and find out who’s buried in grant’s tomb…
Time for an evening stroll in my neighborhood, again. A short walk up Riverside Drive brings us to the General Grant National Memorial. If you’re so inclined, you could go in and see his tomb, and all the memorializing stuff that’s found in sites like this. I’ve never been inside. In the summer, there is a music series set on the grounds, and I took a shot that Wednesdays might be the night. Bingo!
On the way, while walking through Riverside Park, I saw this guy and his two doggies.
mutt and jeff. get it? mutt? mutt and jeff? hahaha...i make myself laugh
I could hear the music from a few blocks away…
there's the memorial - and here's the crowd
here's the band - a jazz band tonight
All kinds of people in the crowd – people with fancy chairs, with holes in the arms to hold cold drinks, people without chairs at all, people with blankets, people with friends, people all alone. Lots of happy people.
they couldn't sit still!
kicking back after a long day
these ladies were living LARGE
a fancy man, enjoying himself and the music
I walked around the monument grounds; the site is lined with fantastic Gaudi-like benches that are covered in folk art mosaics. Another picture, another time.
all those symbols of power and glory, doncha know
Then I headed home, because it was kind of muggy and still. On the way home I passed the Riverside Church, which is kind of famous, I’ve heard. It has a fantastic exterior, all the detail and accoutrements of Big Fancy Church, including stone carvings. Like this:
oh the shame. why me, lord. why must the birds nest on MY shoulders. what's wrong with the guy next to me. really.
that scene always gives me pause. an airplane flying toward a building... even if it isn't, really.
Now they’re getting serious. No more “set up” shots, no taxicab confessions. Now it’s time for the dirt. Ice T is on the scene.
That's Ice T blocking my doorway. Like he does.
Meloni (in shorts) and Hargitay, rehearsing the part where they find the victim. The SPECIAL victim.
Now they’re getting serious. No more “set up” shots, no taxicab confessions. Now it’s time for the dirt. Ice T is on the scene.
watching the Law & Order SVU episode being filmed right outside my window…..want to see Mariska? I’ve got pics.
OK, I’m getting kind of bored. They say that making a movie (or TV show) involves mostly standing around and waiting, and they’re not kidding. It takes a crew of dozens to do every single thing. Each person does one thing – this guy stands and slowly rolls up that piece of tape, another guy slowly rolls up another piece of tape, while half a dozen stand around and watch those two guys slowly roll up their pieces of tape. All for one very brief scene. I’m just uploading the photos into a flickr set, which I’ll update when anything interesting happens. I want to see the hair and make-up girls make the murder victim look victimized. If that happens, I’ll snap the pic.
To work. Enough farting around for me this morning.
I thought the murder scene was a cab, but I was wrong. The team spent all morning preparing the cab for a driving-around scene, with Mariska in the cab.
Hair and makeup are still outside my window, and now the team is setting up tables and tents. More to come….
I thought the murder scene was a cab, but I was wrong. The team spent all morning preparing the cab for a driving-around scene, with Mariska in the cab.
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- and there she is!
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- Mariska’s inside – lighting the scene
Hair and makeup are still outside my window, and now the team is setting up tables and tents. More to come….
The SVU victim will be in a cab, I think – literally just a few feet from me:
The SVU victim will be in a cab, I think – literally just a few feet from me:
lighting the murder scene
using my street for an SVU murder AGAIN.
Looks like the murder will be happening right outside my apartment window. The production guys just parked a police car and a detective car right outside my window. The streets have been cleared – no parking, no traffic – the trash pickup came earlier than usual, the big panavision truck is here, and the bedbug exterminator had to come in very quickly. LIFE IN MANHATTAN. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for Mariska and will snap a pic if I can.
our bldg has bedbugs, they have roscoe - doesn't seem fair
PANAVISION!
setup for the fake cops
I think the fake murder will be happening in that little alley between the two buildings. They always do. More as the (duh duh) drama unfolds.
see it, smell it, taste it, touch it, everything but hearing it!
It’s sunny and beautiful outside, and a wonderland indoors. The coffee was brewing, blueberry scones were baking, the riotous armload of stargazer lilies filled the air with their dizzyingly thick smell, and the rough texture of Rowan Felted Tweed made my hands crave to touch my Peasy sweater that’s starting to look like an actual sweater!
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- a landscape of stitches, made one at a time
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- it’s starting to look like a sweater, y’all!
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- love the Peasy sleeve – no cuff, just a gentle rounding-in
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- blueberry scones – really delicious, with a mug of coffee
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- so many blooms – and a dozen buds still waiting!
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- such brilliant color
Happy Sunday, y’all -
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If you haven’t read Never Let Me Go, here’s why you should: read more.
This was our book club selection last month; unfortunately, I didn’t finish it before our book club met, but fortunately, that never matters, because unfortunately we barely talk about the book. I love the group of women in our little ‘club,’ they’re very smart, and very opinionated. Manhattanites, in other words. Many of them work in publishing – an accident of convenience you know. Last time we all traveled out to QUEENS…another borough, for heaven’s sake, which was too much for some members of our group. One woman seems to think Brooklyn and Queens are the same place.
Anyway. Silliness. I absolutely loved this book, Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. I somehow missed knowing anything about it when it was first published back in 2005. I missed the hubbub when it was nominated for the Booker prize. What was I doing then? But that’s the great thing about books, isn’t it; they’re always there, once they exist. So five years later, I can find it and fall into its spell the same as if I’d read it back in 2005.
The book unfolds such a little bit at a time. There are clues, cues, sinister little snippets, you know something is very wrong but you don’t quite know what. You begin to get a creepy idea about what’s going on, and it all comes together pretty slowly. The writing isn’t particularly lyrical, but that’s not the point anyway. The main character, Kath, tells the story and in the way people really do tell stories, she’ll start, then double back, then say “but I need to tell you this first.” It works.
As I was reading, I kept thinking of Blade Runner – I’m surprised no one mentioned in during the 2.5 minutes we discussed the book. I don’t want to give away the plot, if you haven’t read it (I heartily recommend the book!), but one of the big questions of the book is what constitutes a life? What constitutes a meaningful life? A valuable life – and what does “valuable” mean, anyway? I thought a lot about free will.
I think this book is meant to be a horror, a signpost pointing toward a dreadful future, signaling “watch out! you’d better think about what you’re doing or you’ll end up here!” It made me think of The Handmaid’s Tale, in that way. For some reason, it didn’t have that effect on me. I guess I’ve lived long enough to know that things work like this; that we get so dazzled by what we can do, that those who come up with new technologies just dazzle us with all the good stuff and never mention the darker possibilities of it, and we all tag along with dazzle in our eyes. So I wasn’t as horrified by the future shock of it as perhaps I was intended to be. Instead, it made me think about what life is for US, for me, now. It made me think about our human illusions, the little ideas we have without realizing we have them, unquestioned, unexplored.
Now when a book does that, that’s pretty great. And while reading, I finished 1.25 sleeves of my Peasy sweater…..BONUS!
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the 1960s were so much more than drugs and sex and rock and roll. they were rudolph and frosty, too.
my hair - the "flip" - was the height of fashion! my dress was red velvet.
I adore Mad Men – love it love it love it. I love the stories, the secrets, the every little detail. The most recent episode, the one with the office Christmas party, was so incredibly familiar it made my teeth ache. The very specific reds and greens, the music, the decorations, every. tiny. little. detail. So familiar. I breathed the air around those decorations, even if my father wasn’t working on Madison Ave.
The other day I was reading a review of this past episode and realized that I would’ve been the same age as Bobby, in the series. It took place December 1964, and I would’ve just turned 6. I can feel the construction paper between my fingers, making chains of rings for the Christmas tree. I can smell the paste, sticking a little red puff onto Rudolph’s nose, I can feel the bits of glitter stuck to my fingertips.
Childhood is such an evocative time; the saying is ‘youth is wasted on the young’ but I think it’s true that nothing is wasted on the young. The tiniest details become so firmly woven into our psychological fabric that they revisit us – with happiness, and with haunting – as long as we live. The photo above was taken in 1969, so I was 10 or 11, depending on when it was taken. Just over 40 years ago, and I can feel the table I was sitting on when the picture was taken; I can feel the wrong side of the polyester velvet of my dress, made by my mother; I can smell the Aqua-Net, sprayed from a tall blue aerosol can, that covered my hair in a misguided effort to make it hold that shape. I can quite literally feel the day in my muscles, and written into my bones.
Memory is really an incredible gift of human-ness, even if they’re not always pleasant. The way a passing smell can bring back other people, other times. The way an old song can fill you with an entirely different feeling than you felt moments before. I just love this part of being alive, don’t you?
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living in manhattan – hard times, man. your car gets towed and you might get bedbugs. enter: roscoe, the famous bedbug sniffing dog.
Two things happened today that are just so particular to living in NYC, so I thought I’d share. Each requires a tiny bit of background.
1 – If you have a car in NYC, as I do, you either have to pay an exorbitant monthly fee for a space in a parking garage (I’ve paid less for big apartments in other places than you might pay for a parking space in a garage), or you park on the street. That’s risky, parking on the street; I’ve had my tires and wheels stolen a couple of times. Someone smashed a window and stole all the airbags (yes, really!). Someone scratched the word “Niger” in the side of the car. Really? Niger? What’s that about. If you park on the street, you also have to deal with alternate side parking, which involves moving your car every other day. I won’t go into all those details, just know that you have to move your car every other day.
OK. Living in NYC means living on a movie set, on top of everything else. So many tv shows and movies are filmed here, which is great and awful. You just get used to watching for your neighborhood, when watching a movie or tv show. You get used to seeing all the movie trucks and gear set up everywhere. You hate it, but you deal with it when something is being filmed in your neighborhood and all the damned parking is taken up for days. So what happens is that the production company posts signs ahead of time informing you of the filming period. The signs are everywhere, and they’re posted AHEAD OF TIME. They’re supposed to be, anyway. This morning, I went out to move the car and it was gone. There were signs posted that hadn’t been there yesterday, and the car had been towed by the production company. When this happens, they do not tell you where they’ve towed the car. You just have to hang around and hope you see a tow truck, so you can ask them, and hope they know. Your alternative is just to walk blocks and block and blocks in all possible directions looking for the needle that is your car, in the haystack that is your neighborhood. Luckily, a couple of hours later I found a tow truck and was told where to find my car.
2 – Animal life. Each place in this world has its own kinds of infestation. For NYC, you’ve probably heard about our cockroaches and mice/rats. You can’t stand on a subway platform for long without having your attention drawn down to the tracks, to watch rats scurrying back and forth. You may find “evidence” that mice have been in your apartment. I’ve never had cockroaches in my place, but they’re a classic accompaniment to many apartments here in NYC.
Recently, NYC has been grand central for bedbugs. That’s a horrifying infestation, because they’re extremely hard to get rid of. Adult bed bugs can travel over 16 feet in 5 minutes. I’d heard about friends’ buildings getting infested, and I’ve been grateful it hasn’t happened in my building. Until recently. First one guy’s apartment got bedbugs. Even though we are all relatively well-educated and “sophisticated,” it was an uncomfortable experience discovering that I viewed him differently now. We all did; when he’d leave the laundry room, no one would want to use the dryer he’d just used. I’m sure he felt it, even though we all tried not to act that way.
On Monday, we all received a notice under our doors from the coop Board of Directors informing us that 4 apartments are now infested with bedbugs in our building. OK, that’s pretty frightening – and I just bought a brand new mattress, I’d hate to have to get rid of it, if it came to that. But our Board of Directors hired
Roscoe! The Famous Bedbug Dog Expert!
Roscoe at work - not in my place
He started working at 9 this morning, sniffing in all the apartments in our building. While he was in my place, I watched him work, sniffing corners and countertops and baseboard edges and anything covered in fabric – I watched a little anxiously….what would Roscoe do? Would he certify me as clean? Would he find a bedbug?
I have to say that Roscoe was adorable. You’d never find a cuter bedbug authority, anywhere. And I also have to say that I’m clean. WHEW.
What a day, man. What a day. We know what the remedy is, don’t we? KNITTING!
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flowers. knitting. music. books. what else is there?
The other day, I got this armload of flowers; he’d been near the flower district, so he just thought to bring home flowers. Sweet, so sweet – no reason, other than that he thought of it, and he knows I love flowers.
stargazer lilies, our favorite
pretty yellow, especially nice in a squat arrangement!
So that’s one thing. Another is a bit of knitting content! I’m making some good headway on the first Peasy sleeve, which is thrilling now that I don’t have to watch my needles, because I’ve gotten quite far in Never Let Me Go, by Ishiguro – highly recommended, and review to come when I finish. Reading + knitting = happy, happy me.
it's really getting to be a sleeve!
all those stitches!
And since I’ve been in the subway a few times this week, some work on my little Sockhead hat, using the yarn Anna gave me for Mother’s Day (Schachenmayr nomotta Regia Galaxy, the Jupiter colorway):
my starry night hat, with yarn from Anna
And finally – a musical gift to you, courtesy of my daughter Katie. Katie has always loved The Beatles, with a kind of fanaticism. So adorable, little junior high Katie wearing one Beatles t-shirt after another, challenging you to name any obscure Beatles song, and she could tell you what track on what side of what album it was first published. She posted this video on her blog recently, and since my laptop has crappy speakers, I didn’t listen to it until this afternoon, when I had headphones plugged in. OH….you think you’ve heard every cover of every Beatles song, you think you’re bored of it, you think it’s not possible to do one of their songs with a unique voice while still being the song, and you’re absolutely 100% wrong. Listen to this – Because, sung by Melody Gardot. Be prepared to get chills.
See? I told you. Thank you Katie. In the immortal words of The Continental, wowie wow wow wow.
paging paul simon
The back page of each issue of New York magazine has a feature called The Approval Matrix; the square has a line in the middle horizontally, and another vertically. The vertical dimension is highbrow to lowbrow, and the horizontal dimension is brilliant to despicable. So there are quadrants for things that are highbrow and despicable, highbrow and brilliant, lowbrow and despicable, and lowbrow and brilliant. (If you want to see one, click the link in the first sentence.)
It’s fun to read. Even though I always read magazines back to front anyway, no idea why, I turn to the back page of New York magazine first specifically to see The Approval Matrix, when I happen to pick up the magazine. Today I found something that was highbrow and brilliant (but just barely above the line between highbrow and lowbrow): dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com.
You know how there can be a single word that’s just so good, it says a whole phrase? Like schadenfreude – taking pleasure in someone else’s trouble. Don’t say you’ve never felt it, everyone has even if they don’t like to admit it, even to themselves. So schadenfreude [say SHAH-den-froi-duh], a simple word for a rich idea. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows gives us the same kind of deal, with made-up words. For example:
I was definitely of the swamp creature genus when I was a teenager. I don’t have many pictures of those years, but when I see any one of them, I do experience kodachronos. Such an obscure sorrow.
I have an appointment at 2, and then drinks with friends at 6, so three hours in between those for some time-whiling-away. And guess what I’ll be doing? One word: Peasy.
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such fun meeting a raveler in person!!
Tammy! She has a picture of me taking a picture of her. Bag of purchases at her feet. shhhhhh.
That’s an activity I highly recommend! Tammy, the blogger behind Life and Yarn or Yarn and Life took the train to NYC and we met at Grand Central Station. Her birthday is Wednesday (swing by her place and leave her a birthday comment!) so that was another justification for buying some yarn. Like any of us needs a justification for buying yarn. Tammy had a couple: her birthday, and the obvious need for souvenir yarn from every yarn shop we visited. Even though I swore, I swore, I swore I tell you, that I wouldn’t buy any yarn, (looking shamefacedly down at my feet) I succumbed.
Tammy’s primary mission was to visit Purl Soho, which was very high on my list too. OH what a lovely store. I wanted a dozen of everything. The displays were great, the yarn was priced on the skein, the people who worked there were just-right helpful, and the stock….o the stock. VERY NICE. In fact, I had to do this. I HAD TO! I COULDN”T HELP IT!
Cascade Eco Duo, in vanilla. Just one skein, I had a little discipline.
Cascade Eco Duo, in hazelnut
don't you want to rub them against your cheek? 70% baby alpaca, 30% merino
huddling together in my Tibetan singing bowl - so peaceful and soft
SORRY. I know you’ll understand my need to take so many photos of two little skeins of yarn. Y’all, this yarn is amazing. So soft, the colors so rich. And what’s that orange book-looking thing in the top right corner of the bottom photo? Dang if I didn’t pick up Susan Anderson’s itty bitty toys. I HAD TO! My daughter Katie is gearing up to get ready to have children, and you know, a lot of the little toys were in my faves and queue, for when you know, grandbabies start coming.
After an exhausting (wallet exhausting) visit at Purl, we walked around the corner to Balthazars for lunch. Tiny table, but good bistro food. Plus – and this was a huge plus – it was cool. Today’s a little bit steamy here in Manhattan. I had a salad nicoise, the tuna was done perfectly. Which means the cook just kind of waved it near the stove, threatened it, really. We chatted, we got to know each other a little bit more, and we relaxed in the cool. I had a blast.
Then we trucked uptown a ways, to midtown, to stop in at School Products and Habu. I just have to echo what others – Jared Flood comes to mind – have said about School Products. You can find some amazing things in that store. Huge cones of merino and of cashmere. All kinds of yarns from Italy. Silk, camel, yak, cotton, and often at incredible prices. If you ever come to town, make the effort to go to School Products. Like so many stores in midtown, it’s just in an office building, there’s no sign out front, so you have to know exactly where you’re going. I’ll be back. Just as she’d done at Purl, Tammy bought a few things at School Products – some absolutely gorgeous yarn that just looked like autumn in her hand. She’s going to Webs tomorrow, so she may not get photos of her stash up right away, but do check out her blog for pictures.
Then we wandered our way to Habu, and after one false start in the building, the guy at the front desk downstairs redirected us to the right place. It’s a pretty small showroom, and if you’ve been there before, they closed the little back hallway that used to have additional yarns. Still, the patient looker will find all kinds of great treasures. I love hearing the looms in the other room softly making their loomy sounds. Tammy did a little damage here, too.
We’d planned to walk back to Grand Central Station, but blisters on feet led us to take the subway instead. And with an ending hug to match our opening hug, our day together came to an end. It was great fun, and we’ll try to coordinate ourselves at Rhinebeck in the fall.
Let me know if you’re coming to town – it’s fun meeting in person! And now I’m off to fondle my yarn. You know what I’m talking about.
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Ravelry is so great; I’ve said it before, you’ve said it before, we’ll all say it again. We meet so many wonderful people there, and at times we get to meet each other in person. That’s happening for me today! I’m meeting Tammy, the blogger behind Life and Yarn or Yarn and Life. She’s taking the train down from her home in Connecticut, for a yarn crawl and lunch day. She’s my first raveler to meet in person, though I hope she’s not the last! I’m looking at Laura, Jocelyn, Anne, Kelly, perches, and you, if you read my blog.
Continue Reading–1 words totally
Ravelry is so great; I’ve said it before, you’ve said it before, we’ll all say it again. We meet so many wonderful people there, and at times we get to meet each other in person. That’s happening for me today! I’m meeting Tammy, the blogger behind Life and Yarn or Yarn and Life. She’s taking the train down from her home in Connecticut, for a yarn crawl and lunch day. She’s my first raveler to meet in person, though I hope she’s not the last! I’m looking at Laura, Jocelyn, Anne, Kelly, perches, and you, if you read my blog.
Our mission: to visit PurlSoho, eat at Balthazar, and stop in at Habu and School Products, and a few others possibly. Many of the smaller yarn stores are closed on Mondays, too bad. Report and photos to come!
i can knit without looking! i can knit without looking!
A few posts ago I was thinking about the long slog of long sleeve knitting – the mindless periods of round and round and round and round knitting, stockinette tubes. All the worse if you’re tall and therefore have longer arms, like me. Still, if I want to be a sweater knitter, and it appears I do, I’d need to find some way to embrace that part of the process, since I have 2 arms.
Well, I just found my reason. If you’re a relatively newbie knitter like me, you may also have marveled at people who can knit without looking. How in the world do they do that……it was a total mystery to me. But this morning, while putting in some ‘hard time’ working on my Peasy sleeves, I realized that I was reading and knitting — something I 
do anyway, but I glance back and forth for every stitch. This morning, though, I realized that I hadn’t been glancing back and forth at every stitch! In fact, I realized that lots of stitches had been knitted since I last looked, and it was Me doing the knitting!
OH GLORY! I can get in some good reading while simultaneously getting a good chunk of knitting done! I have a kindle (love), so I can put it on my lap and knit knit knit without having to worry about holding open a book.
disclaimer: may not apply with anything other than rounds of stockinette with a relatively sticky wool on lovely needles.
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