having stuff to look forward to helps so much!
I hate dates. I enjoy prunes, but hate dates. So there.
But that’s not what I meant to write about, that’s not the meaning of “dates” that brought me here; I get so distracted by words I dare not dip into the dictionary to look up a word, because one leads to the next and then a good hour is gone. Ditto encyclopedias, or what passes for them now.
Good grief, digressions! DATES, Lori, what were you going to say about dates? Oh, right. So I didn’t get to go on my date with Will a couple of days ago because I was felled by a mighty migraine. I get them irregularly, and they’re usually handled quite easily with a sumatriptan inhaler (god bless you, GlaxoSmithKline, makers of Imitrex). Back in the 1980s, when the only delivery method was an Imitrex injection, I took those but they inevitably left me with a different kind of crushing headache. The inhalers were an improvement in many ways — no need to inject yourself (a biggie), no crushing chest pain as the medication moved up the body, and no injection headache. The worst thing about the inhalers is the extremely nasty taste as the remnants of the spray drip down the back of your throat. Still, now and then I get a migraine that requires two inhalers and that does leave me with a very bad rebound headache, and that’s what happened this go-round. I completely lost yesterday to the weird strangeness of the post-migraine / post-too-much-migraine-medicine fog.
I’m hoping Will and I can recreate our date this coming Thursday; that’s our plan, if he isn’t scheduled to work. But tonight I have a dinner date with my friend Temma, at a Thai restaurant she introduced me to in our neighborhood. That’ll be fun, and I know I’ll leave feeling much better. Sunday I’m going to see Richard III at BAM, and the following Friday my husband and I are going to see the Cloud Gate 2 performance. Lots of great dates coming up in my immediate future — also, youngest daughter’s 21st birthday, the anniversary of getting engaged to my husband, Valentine’s Day, and lots of other shows and performances in my calendar. It’s been a kind of hard slog the last couple of weeks, so having these wonderful dates to look forward to really helps.
Today I made an official declaration (to myself) that the pity party is now over! Enough already. It’s so easy to indulge self-pity — at least it is for me — but that just keeps it going rather than exhausting the well. So I open the blinds (figuratively), let in the sun, make a big cup of tea, and turn my eyes outward. The view is much sunnier, even in winter. 
lucky me, having such wonderful women in my life
I have these two amazing friends, women whose presence in my life adds so much I can’t begin to describe it accurately. They’re very different (from each other and from me) in some ways, but more importantly, we share a lot in common. We love words and books and poetry. We love talking about things that matter. We love sharing our lives with each other. We are eager to help each other when opportunities arise. We admire each other. We find each other beautiful. In different ways, both have been lifesavers for me, and in one way, I was a lifesaver for one of them, once. We had dinner together last night, and this morning one of my friends said something in an email that got me thinking. To give you the context, I’ll tell you a little bit about them, and I’ll use pseudonyms for them because they didn’t necessarily sign up for this public deal. They actually have exotic and beautiful names, but I’m picking simple names here:
Jane is a prolific and beautiful writer — a writer of novels and poems, and decades of journalism. She’s exceptionally smart and insightful. She’s my mentor in saying what you want to say (whether she knows it or not), because she does that. As a southern woman, I nearly choke to death on “nice,” and live with a clenched jaw from not saying what I want to say, so I admire Jane tremendously for this part of who she is. She’s curious, and her training as a reporter means she’s going to ask you questions, and keep asking questions, until she understands. She’s deeply emotional, and easily touched, and grapples with the deep issues of life in a way that resonates with me. Whenever I see her, we talk talk talk and run out of time before we run out of things to say. I love her.
Mary worked in publishing until she had a major stroke at 41. She’s also exceptionally smart and insightful. For a time, it seemed that the stroke caused her to lose everything — fluid speech, the ability to do her job, much of her sense of self — but another thing about her is that she persists in such a wonderful way. It’s like there’s a beautiful light inside her that simply will not go out, no matter what. When she was in the hospital after her stroke, there were so many people who loved her who wanted to visit that we had to create a spreadsheet with sign-ups, in 15-minute slots. Mary is very deep, and we have spent so many hours together talking about our struggles, our histories, our ongoing concerns. She’s also deeply emotional and easily touched. Now she’s getting involved in so many areas of stroke advocacy, and last night she was telling us about this thing she’s spearheading, that place she’s volunteering, this effort she is joining, the other thing she’s eager to work on. I love her.
So me being me, I was thoroughly enjoying talking with them last night while also feeling like the odd woman out, like I was just eavesdropping on the lives of two fabulous women who are Doing Big Things while I sit on my couch editing work others have written, not even doing my own. This morning, in her email to Jane and me, Mary said she felt like she had been “eavesdropping on such a high-level intellectual/literary/writerly/fertile discussion.” Which immediately cracked me up, because she was right there in the thick of it as a participant! For all I know, Jane was doing something similar with Mary and me. I wonder what that’s about. Our conversation was a full and fast river of all three of our voices — no one dominated, no one was excluded at all, the only judgment at the table was encouragement and expressing appreciation. So it wasn’t coming from outside, it must be a reflection of our own senses of uncertainty about ourselves.
Still, when I left them last night, I felt on top of the world, as I always do after I spend time with friends. I suspect this is unique (at least in degree) to female friendships. Whenever I leave a female friend, I feel encouraged, and valued, ready to do whatever I want to do. Worries have been tended to and help given if possible; wishes and dreams have been fanned by their belief in me; and my heart is light because it’s been held up in friendship. It’s a pretty great thing.
[since Saturday Jan 14th is a digital sabbatical day for me, this post was written on Friday Jan 13th and scheduled to publish on Saturday]
thank you for helping me have such a wonderful birthday!
I had perhaps the best birthday of my life yesterday. Honestly. And since I love my birthday so much, there’s a lot of competition for the “best birthday so far” title. Here’s a rundown:
We were off to the subway at 9:45, to go downtown to City Winery in Soho for my klezmer brunch. There was a jazz guitar player at our station, playing my song (Somewhere Over the Rainbow). It was so beautiful, resonating and echoing in the subway, it made me cry and feel like it was a serendipitous start to my day. Oh — and the day itself was stunningly beautiful, bright blue skies and sun. Then on the way downtown, at one stop a band got in the train. . . mariachi!! I love the mariachi bands, they’re my favorite. They were wonderful, my cheeks were hurting from grinning so hard. Two for two, my favorites, oh what a day.
At the restaurant, the receptionist was downright mean — who cares, it’s my birthday. We arrived at 10:30, and the music was to start at 11, so we ordered our food. Despite what the menu said, our sour waitress said they don’t serve espresso drinks, just plain coffee (maybe she was tired of disappointing everyone since all around me people were trying to order cappuccino). Who cares. Coffee is fine! I ordered a frittata with onions and goat cheese; my husband can’t stand goat cheese, so I get it when I’m out. Score! My song, mariachi, and goat cheese. Winning, what a birthday!
The food arrived just before the music was to start, which made me so happy. The trouble was that the band didn’t seem to be ready. One guy would be on the stage, occasionally two, rarely the same two, and never the whole gang. The restaurant had loud music playing on the big speakers and the band members would do warm-up runs at the same time, and there was a huge group of very loud people off to the side, all shouting at the same time. Cacophony. 11:10, no music. 11:15, 11:20, 11:25, 11:30. No music. And still, the entire band was never on the stage at the same time. Finally, at 11:40, they all gathered on the stage (music was to begin at 11, remember!) but they couldn’t get the sound system set up. The sour waitress came to refill my cup and I guess she was just as startled as I was to see the whole band on the stage, because she poured coffee all over the table and on my elbow.
Still. My birthday. The band finally started playing at 11:45. Here’s what I have to say to the leader of the band: DUDE. Just because you play the clarinet, that does not mean you’re playing klezmer music. It was jazz, and not just jazz, but the kind of jazz where everyone is playing their own thing, whatever they want, and the bongo drums were too loud on top of it. And also, dude? Klezmer bands don’t have bongos.
But I didn’t care too much. Breakfast is my favorite meal to go out for, and it was a gorgeous day. When the 3rd song still wasn’t klezmer, we cut our losses and headed out for a walk to Chinatown, to buy shrimp. Such a beautiful day.
I got emails and facebook posts from friends all over the world, several friends sent me patterns through Ravelry (more on those in coming posts!), all three of my daughters called me and touched my heart, I saw my son after dinner and he touched my heart, and my husband just made the whole day very loving and special. I had an incredible dinner, orange shrimp, my mouth still smiles remembering it. AND I got a funny story out of the klezmer brunch debacle.
So I begin my 53rd year honoring my commitments to myself. I woke up and wrote my morning pages, 750 words more or less; I ate breakfast, and then wrote for an hour and a half and finished a scene for my novel; I did my strength training routine (yay, back in that saddle!); and at noon I’m heading out for a very fast walk in the sunshine, and to drop off a couple packages at the post office.
Lots to say, still, but lots to do! Gotta dash.
ma belle amie — Kty strikes again.
Yesterday I was reading a wholly compelling story in the NYTimes about a man who lives with schizophrenia; he has learned strategies to talk back to his voices and leads a difficult but full life. The whole article was moving, but there was one line that gut-punched me. At one point in his life, the man sat in his bedroom with a gun in his lap, ready to end his life. His wife walked in and said ‘I know you feel like quitting, but what if tomorrow is the day you get what you want?’ A long long time ago, in another life, I’d reached that point too and in a letter, someone said that we keep going because tomorrow we might round a corner and see someone standing there, holding flowers just for us.
I am by no means in that terribly hopeless place, but you know how life just kind of grinds sometimes? World news is terrible, your personal life hits a bump, something freaky happens like you get a hug that breaks your rib, there are too damned many flies and crap it’s hot and muggy. It’s been a long time since you had fun, just some plain old fun. You’re in the grinding uphill part of the rollercoaster, and have been for quite a long time. Nothing’s wrong really, nothing’s terminally bad, there’s plenty of hope lingering in the corners, it’s not like that, but boy. Grind.
Zen Garden Sea Lace -- and why yes, dear Kty, I do think it would be gorgeous!
Today’s bouquet of flowers was brought to me by my favorite living Parisian, Kty, who happens to be on holiday right now. We’ve never met in person, but if you’ve read this blog for long you know of her because she shows up in comments and in posts (like me, her birthday is in November so she feels like my sister or something). One of these days I’m going back to Paris and taking that lovely woman out for a glass of wine or two or three. I just got an email from Kty asking me if I didn’t think a certain pattern (Kozue, which she gifted me) would look beautiful in one of the yarns in my stash, the one shown to the left.
Oh, the many things about her email that transformed my day. The thought behind it, I’m just grinning and feeling like maybe the world is ok, despite all the awful news (note: must stop reading the NYTimes). Maybe we hold each other up, maybe we give each other little smiles, little nudges, and it helps hold the world together. The tiniest things can be just the thing someone needs; I always know that but I don’t always remember it.
I’ll cast on asap and will post a WIP photo. Tonight I’m having dinner with two friends, one of whom is moving back to the UK (boo), and tomorrow night’s my poetry group, but my fingers will be itching to get going. Merci beaucoup, Kty.
friends, meet my other friends!
I’m thinking a lot about something right now and it’s still a tangled inarticulate mess, not ready to write about. Also, I finished Katie’s second green sock, so when I get them blocked I’ll post the FO. So I was mulling: hmm….do I have anything to say on Thrums today? And then I looked at Tammy’s blog in the midst of my morning blog catch-up, and what do I see? In receiving a blog award, she named mine. Thank you Tammy — ever since we first crossed paths, you have been such a wonderful and kind friend to me.
Of course, the whole point of these little awards is that it gives us an opportunity to highlight other blogs, which is something I’ve been thinking about lately. Those of you who regularly follow my blog and leave comments, you’re very alive to me, you feel like you’re a real part of my life, not a part of my virtual life. I think knitters, as a rule, are among the nicest people on earth, and we all have this thing in common, even if our politics are very different, our lifestyles, everything else is different. I have this crazy little fantasy about all of you who read this blog: there’s some kind of party where all of you/us are in one room, and you all like each other. Of course that’s probably not true; you know how you can bring two of your friends together — they both love you! — but it turns out they really don’t like each other. Anyway, don’t rain on my fantasy.
That’s a long way around to say this: I’m supposed to name 5 bloggers who have fewer than 100 followers. First of all, I have no idea how to find out how many followers someone has, and second of all, I don’t even really care about that. I decided to take this opportunity to highlight five people who show up here at Thrums on at least a semi-regular basis, and who post kind of regularly on their own blogs. Naming people always means leaving out others, which I hate, but I’ve got this little idea perking along in the back of my mind for later, so I don’t feel so bad about it. SO! Check out these blogs and subscribe, if you don’t already:
- Knitting Relaxes Me — (me too!) This is Janna’s blog. She and I have a tiny Austin, TX connection, which always delights me. I love her blog, which is about 99.5% knitting, with the occasional side-bar note, always delightful. She lives in Iowa and she’s a medical librarian. Hi Janna!
- Knitting Linguist — (me too, in an amateur linguist way!) This is Jocelyn’s blog. Jocelyn lives in southern California, and she’s a frequent test-knitter for Anne Hanson so you’ll see her turning up here and there in that regard. Once I was on my rav friends page and the ad on the left caught my eye, because there was Jocelyn! Like me, she has a very big smile. She blogs about her family, her work as a linguistics professor, and her fiber obsession (knitting and spinning). Howdy-do, Jocelyn!
- Yarnfest — This is Dina’s blog. Dina lives in Oregon, and the focus of her blog is on charity knitting, including a very large project she created and organized for homeless kids in her school district. That’s how I met her, and it’s been a great addition to my life, getting to know Dina. Her blog is primarily about knitting, but she discusses life too. Like all of you who circle around here, she’s a woman of great depth. Hey, Dina!
- Ink, Yarn & Beer — First of all, isn’t that a great blog title? Don’t you want to know more? This is Naomi’s blog, and I guess it’s obvious what she blogs about. We all already know about yarn and beer, so following Naomi’s blog also gives you insight into the art of sumi, brush painting. She’s a curious and insightful person, and I’m so glad we crossed paths. I never miss a blog post. Good morning, Naomi!
- Knit 1 Blog 1 — This is Pip’s blog. Pip has an online sock yarn shop, and she’s a teacher, so she’s crazy busy. She lives in Wales, which is so fantastical and exotic to little old me. I’d love to see Wales one of these days, and if I ever get the chance, I’m going however out of my way I have to go to meet Pip. Her blog also includes her very lovely photography of her part of the world, which I always enjoy. Bore da, Pip! (she wished me happy birthday in Welsh, which thrilled me)
I’m being swamped, thinking of all my bloggy friends not listed here: Kelli, Laura, Kty, Anne, Kate, Sara, Noreen, Andrea, Perches (you have to see her gorgeous son, Bebe!), Karie, Pamela, Turtlegirl, another Sara, and I know I’m blanking on others.
if you lie like a rug, and you don’t give a damn / you’re never gonna be as happy as a clam
Katie is on her way back to Austin, having done what she came to do. Tomorrow night I have a date with Will, my son, for coffee and Scrabble (at which time he will kick my ass, as he always does. Last night he texted me with this warning: “doldrum = my opening bingo when I destroy you at Scrabble.). Two weeks ago, this wild dream would’ve been too wild to dream.
Today, I opened my tiny NYC mailbox and inside was a puffy envelope — unexpected, what?! Tammy, my friend from Connecticut, mentioned and photographed in the pages of this blog, sent me an adorable little project bag she made, in bright spring colors. The sweet note commented on how she knew the winter had been getting me down. What a thoughtful and sweet friend, sending a thoughtful and sweet surprise.
It is indeed a big old goofy world. It’s one way for a while, then it’s the opposite way for a while. If you don’t already know John Prine, you might enjoy this little video of him singing the song he wrote that gave this post its title. He said his mother liked the little sayings — eat like a bird, quiet as a mouse, etc., so he strung them all together into this song.
If the rollercoaster is flying you down right now and you’re squealing whee!!, enjoy it! If it’s slowly and painfully climbing you up a hill that’s so steep you can’t even see the top, hang on. I’ve thrown my hands in the air and tipped my head back to yell WHEEEEEEE!
and many more…..
It’s such a disappointment, only being able to celebrate virtual friends’ birthdays virtually — I am such a huge fan of birthdays, obviously, so I’d like to make a big fuss of everyone’s but alas. Sara lives in NH.
Today’s a big birthday for Sara — you’ve read her comments around these parts, I’m sure, and if you’re on rav perhaps you already know her (nhsarab). Maybe you read her blog, too. Whatever, wherever, however, today is a very special birthday so pop over one way or the other and wish her
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARA!!
I hope it’s a wonderful celebration today, and I wish you an exciting and happy year ahead.
and many more….
I’m sure she’s not the only knitting linguist, but she’s the only one I happen to know, and today is her birthday (da da da da da da, da da), happy birthday to her (da da da da da da, da da) — if you read many comments on my blog, you’ve run into Jocelyn, she of the warm heart and thoughtful response.
Midweek birthdays aren’t the best for celebrating, and on top of it, she’s in meetings all day today, so if you’re of a mind, hop over to her blog or ravelry and send a little happy birthday of your own.
Happy birthday, Jocelyn! Here’s to a year filled with time for knitting, loads of smart students, good times with your beautiful family, and easily surmountable problems if problems must be had.
Sherlock came to town! Homie G Dog, as Katie calls him.
We started graduate school together — the same year coming in (1998, I turned 40 a couple months after my first semester started), we had the same advisor, we shared an office for a while, and we became the best of friends. When he was growing up, he used his first name, but in college (I think, is this right?) he decided to start using his middle name: Sherlock. He absolutely cracks me up. We took a course in cognitive development one semester, and he said something that made me laugh so hard I peed in my pants and had to run out of the classroom.
He lives in Connecticut and has been so-very-happily married for the last couple of years. I see him a couple of times a year, and yesterday was one of those times. He came down on the train and we spent the day together, eating good food, traveling to Brooklyn, doing some ho-ho-ho-ing, and catching up. One place he really wanted to go is a mecca for people who love to do woodworking…of which he is one (I used to be one too, but no room now!). So here’s my friend Sherlock, trying out some beautifully-made hand tools:
wave to everyone, Sherlock!
Sherlock has been my friend through some rollercoaster and very tough times, and he’s known my kids since they were in high school or junior high, in my son’s case. He has always felt like my brother – but in the best way, because you don’t necessarily like your brother, since you don’t get to pick him. Friend brothers you do get to pick.
One stop in our journey yesterday was the Brooklyn General Store, where I had to buy some yarn. I mean, I went all that way, right? And it’s the holidays, and I needed to get some yarn to knit a new pair of socks for my daughter Anna, who really loves handknit socks (somewhat surprisingly, I have to add!).
crazy zauberball, obviously!
sweet georgia - colorway "summer skin"
And we stopped for lunch at Calexico — WHOA, if you live in NYC and haven’t eaten there, add this to your list. Sherlock and I know from good Mexican food (we’re both native Texans) and while this is California Mexican food and not TexMex, it’s damn good.
See? The world turns. Sad days get left behind, happy days pop up, and now and then you get some excellent Mexican food. Circle of life. (ha, made myself laugh with that one.)
i know you’re there…..just a little wave’ll do! leave me a comment and you might win a prize. someone will!
You know how it seems like you can find anything online now? Anything at all, no matter how obscure or random?
And do you play DJ, do you go to YouTube and pull up every old song you can think of? Because you can find the most obscure stuff, songs most people seem to forget about. It’s always there, whatever you’re looking for.
With one exception. I wanted to find a clip from The Wizard of Oz, the one where Glinda warbles to the munchkins:
Come out, come out, wherever you are….
You know that song, it’s a good one. And it would’ve been so perfect for this post. Obviously a picture (or video) would’ve saved me the thousand words it’s taken me to tell you about it.
But! Here’s my Christmas wish. Come out, come out, whoever you are. If you’ve been lurking and reading my little blog and you’ve never left a message, believe me I get that!! I read blogs a lot, and rarely leave comments. Those of you who do comment regularly — Laura, Jocelyn, Dina, Pamela, Kelli, Kty, Pip, Tammy, Alannah, Perches, Sara, my daughters — and those who comment on occasion — Noreen, Janna, Alison, Karie, Nancy, Andrea, turtlegirl, cdw, Allison, eskimimi (and apologies for not naming the rest!) — well, you just make my day. Thank you for being part of my life in such a wonderful way.
But if you feel like it, please leave a tiny little comment here so I have a sense of who’s out there. You can make up an alias if you like, of course. If you write a blog and feel like including your url when you leave the comment, I’d love to check out your blog too.
I’ve met some of the nicest people in the world through this blog. Obviously we don’t really know each other. And obviously, if I were in big trouble at 2am and needed help, I’d need to call on someone else. But I do feel very lucky to have met you all, and count you among the blessings of my life.
xoL
p.s. and if you are so inclined, you could also tell me if you subscribe to my blog! But I don’t want to push it.
p.p.s. i’ve talked myself into this: i got so touched, thinking about how much a part of my life you feel, how much your readership, your connection, your always-kind comments (unlike asshole spam) make me feel, I decided to turn this into a giveaway. I have to decide what the prize will be, and as soon as I do, I’ll do another post, but for now here’s the deal: I’ll randomly pick a commenter! Even if you’re here for the first time. Even if you’re in the U.K. or somewhere else.
Joyeux anniversaire, joyeux anniversaire, joyeux ANNIVERSAIRE KTY, joyeux anniversaire
Growing up in Texas, I did the perfectly logical thing when required to take a foreign language in high school. I took French. Spanish, bah! No way! Who needs it! French is the way to go, in a state that used to be part of Mexico! I was President of the French Club, and my teacher (Mme Hill) had without a doubt the WORST french accent ever of all times, bar none. Bone-djurr toot le moan-dee! Je m’a-pELL muDAM HILL! Still, she made up for it with her enthusiasm for all things French. And that worked for me, because I was one of those girls, the dreamy-eyed “want to live in Paris some day” girls. My favorite author when I was in 4th grade? Victor Hugo. Quasimodo’s pleas for sanctuary were more personally meaningful than I will say in this space, and when I finally landed in Paris, at the age of 43, I immediately hauled my jet-lagged ass to Notre Dame de Paris and stood there, crying my eyes out.
yep - me with platinum hair, with dark roots. a la madonna. i loved it!
SO the point is I love Paris. I want to go back…..and if I do, I definitely want to meet Kty in person! Sure, she writes her blog in French, but you can usually make out enough of it, and she knits such beautiful things, and she posts comments in English, and she’s very sweet about it when google translate makes your “frenchified” comments on her blog sound retarded. Here she is on ravelry – Aside from the fact that she’s my favorite living Parisian, I bring her up because TODAY IS HER BIRTHDAY!!! 11/11! yay! YIPPEE! Happy birthday, Kty – I hope it’s a wonderful year for you. Y’all, click on over to her site and post a little birthday greeting, won’t you? Just say it like this:
Joyeux anniversaire Kty!
i love these two things and have to give them away. it’s the PROCESS it’s the PROCESS it’s the PROCESS (repeat over and over until I convince myself…..)
The two women in my writing group asked me to knit scarves for them. I finished the Lace Ribbon Scarf for Susan, made with my leftover Rowan Felted Tweed from Peasy (which, by the way, gets a compliment every single time I wear it, including from my physician yesterday). So here’s Susan’s scarf:
lace ribbon scarf (Veronik Avery), in Rowan Felted Tweed
And here’s the beginning of Marian’s scarf; she chose the Tiger Eyes Lace Scarf by Toni M. Maddox, and she chose Curious Creek Fibers Meru from my stash, in a deep purple colorway named Purple Martin. The yarn is laceweight, half silk half merino; since (a) I want to finish the scarf pretty quickly and (b) I like the heft of the scarves made with fingering-weight yarn, I am holding it double. See?
the pattern is called tiger eyes, but it looks like owls to me!
i really like it - and it's great fun to knit!
Really – it doesn’t look like tiger eyes, does it? It’s owl faces all the way. Right?
And my birthday gift, that thing in the long rectangular box wrapped in silver paper?
my birthday present - turtlegirl was right, it was a swift!
Of course I immediately put a skein of yarn on and wound it up – the Wollmeise that Tammy gave me. It took, like, 3 minutes, and I was grinning the whole time. I used to have a swift (which I kept permanently mounted on the castle of my 48″ 8-harness jack loom, ah the good old days) and I’ve really missed it.
I have too much work to get done before I leave for Laos – 2 giant manuscripts (one which needs to be re-ghost-written) and a couple small projects – so I’d better quit farting around here and get to work. Happy Tuesday y’all!
well cut off my legs and call me shorty. whoo-wee.
Not to be all braggy-mama or anything, but here’s the photo Katie sent me this morning of her scarf in progress:
katie's scarf, in progress
Wouldja friend her on Ravelry? She’s klowery678. That way she can see all the beautiful things you’re making and fave-ing and queue-ing.
And this ends my braggy-mama posting. I promise. For now.
such a great time. 
Absence is a mighty loud presence, and right now Katie’s absence from my morning is screaming at me. I had such a wonderful time with her, every single minute was just a joy. You know, you start life with your kids knowing every tiny little detail about them – how they smell, what their poop is like today, the fact that coconut makes them gag, the way they talk in their sleep, and slowly slowly they move away from you. As it should be, of course. And then one day they don’t live with you and you get the high-level updates, what they’re studying in college, what they’re up to (filtered, of course). And then one day they have a grown-up life somewhere else and you don’t know the texture of their lives, and you “visit” each other. That’s hard going.
And of course it’s the whole point. From the moment they are born, they’re leaving. But that doesn’t mean it’s painless, even though there are those times all through their growing-up years when the idea that one day you’ll have your life back helps keep you going. Life is funny like that, giving and taking with the same hand.
There’s no way to catch up, so I’ll just post some photos that remind me of my wonderful visit:
katie making chili for dinner
behind katie's house
she has this beautiful big tree in her back yard
katie loves her dogs!
dear, regal oscar
My trip home was long but uneventful – when I finally made it through my front door, I was tired and sad the trip was over, and happy to be back home…..and excited to see this:
wollmeise AND nancy drew! delightful!!
My friend Tammy sent me a birthday package – surprising and so sweet! When we had our little yarn crawl trip earlier this year, I mentioned my curiosity about Wollmeise (first, how to pronounce the name) and lo and behold, Tammy sent me a skein. I don’t know the name of the color, but it’s very dark navy and green and blue-black with shades of rust and dark gold here and there. I think it may have a shawl destiny – Haruni, maybe. Don’t know yet. And you know how some people just have a gift-giving gift? That little book is Nancy Drew’s Guide to Life, which tickles me to death. Tammy, you are so awesome. Here are some handy pointers from the book:
From the chapter “Dating: A Primer” – A young lady with some judo skills can take care of unwanted advances in short order. ~The Whispering Statue
From the chapter “The Delicate Art of Etiquette” – Any woman who asks to be introduced to your widowed father is bad news. ~The Mystery of Lilac Inn
From the chapter “Sleuthing 101″ – Being able to throw your voice can get your unskilled assistants out of tight jams. ~The Ringmaster’s Secret
From the chapter “On Being a Lady” – Determination and spunk can elicit admiration from many arenas, even from the criminal element. ~The Phantom of Pine Hill
From the chapter “Powers of Observation” – Strange mechanical noises can only mean one thing: a printing press is being used for nefarious purposes. ~The Clue of the Broken Locket
And finally, I got a lot done on the tweed lace ribbon scarf, on my long flights. Just a little more and I’ll be finished with it and can start the scarf for my other writing group friend:
getting there
Lots to do this week, and then my 52nd birthday on Saturday. And I leave for Phnom Penh in 16 days! This is a wonderful time of year. Even if I do miss my Katie….and Marnie….and Trey and Tom….and Will.
katie’s a knitter! she really, really is.
Maybe it’s because I think knitting is hard to learn; I learned to crochet when I was 5 and it was so very simple, but knitting was awkward and scary. Took me a long time to learn how to relax with it. Or maybe it’s because I’m a really crappy teacher-of-knitting, who knows. Whichever, I haven’t had a lot of success teaching people to knit – although Marnie picked it up very easily, as she does with all creative endeavors.
So I was a little anxious about teaching Katie to knit, since I’m not historically very good at it, or something. But y’all? She picked it up from the get-go. I should’ve had more confidence in the fact that (a) she’s very creative, (b) she’s my kid, and (c) her paternal grandmother was a great knitter, and Katie’s a lot like her Mama G.
doesn't she look like an old pro????
the yarn is Bearfoot, by Mountain Colors, apple green (Katie's color!)
garter and stockinette - her first-ever knitting!
I’m just blown away by her speed of picking it up. We got the yarn at Hill Country Weavers – Bearfoot, by Mountain Colors. It’s her learning swatch, so she’s getting her knitting and purling down, and I’m about to teach her how to kfb and bind off, and then she’ll start her first project, the Gathered Scarf. I’m just amazed at her; I came out of the shower this morning and looked down into the living room and saw her sitting in a chair with her feet up, just knitting away like an old pro.
I’ll have a huge wrap-up post when I get home, full of pictures and stuff. For now though, I’ll close with a picture of one of my dear ravelry friends, Kelly. We met for coffee yesterday morning and it was just wonderful. Only the first meeting of many to come, that’s my plan:
me and Kelly - look at her fantastic cardigan!!! she wore it because she knew how much i love it. hi kelly!
We’re making bread and chili today, and hanging out and knitting. Tonight, handing out candy to little tricksters, and tomorrow morning, I fly home. It sure went by too fast.
MAN! How do I get myself into these problems?! I’m almost 52, maybe it’s time to learn how to pronounce the most difficult 2-letter word in my repertoire: NO.
I know, you me and everyone else. If there were a wish-granting fairy, I’d ask her for more time, and if I got a second wish I’d ask for more money. That’s the pecking order, for sure. Early next month I’ll turn 52, so that’s one aspect of the time issue; how is it going by so quickly?! And as it gets closer to the end (whenever that is) it just goes faster and faster. Such a boring topic of conversation, I know, but it’s definitely on my mind. There’s a more mundane, less existential version of the issue, too. I have too many things to do each day, too many things I have to do (as we all do), and too many things I want to do (as the lucky[?] among us feel). If only I had a spare several hours a day that weren’t on anyone else’s calendar. Man, wouldn’t that be heavenly?
So here I sit with a dilemma, and I have no one to blame but myself. I have a very small writing group, and we meet monthly. It’s just me, Susan, and Marian, and I really enjoy their company, and enjoy their writing and their feedback on mine. They’re substantive, beautiful women, and they’re close to my age (I’m oldest, by a couple of years). (And sidebar note, here: I’ve never had friends who were my age! Like, ever. When I was very young, I got along much better with people who were substantially older than I was. Then when I started college at 36, my friends were half my age. Grad school, same deal. How do people find friends their own age?!)
Anyway. I love Susan and Marian, they’re the kind of women I really value. We don’t get together outside our writing group, mainly because we’re all busy. So I’d say I love them, they’re my friends, but they’re not my best friends, not to sound 14 years old or anything. Susan may be moving to the west coast, which will be the disbanding of our group. So when we last met, I wore my Peasy and they both went on and on about it. And by the time we were leaving our writing session, they both asked if I’d knit them scarves, they’d pay.
Lace Ribbon Scarf, in Rowan Felted Tweed; I'd never have thought the yarn would work with the pattern, but another raveler used it and it looks great!
Here’s where I have no one to blame but myself. I should have just said no. I made a half-assed invisible attempt at saying no, when I said no I don’t sell my knitting, I could never make enough to compensate the time spent. I guess I could still say no, but now I feel like I’ve agreed. Susan loved the Peasy yarn and wanted a Lace Ribbon scarf, and Marian loves this Tiger Eyes lace scarf (I’ll use this curious creek fibers meru, held double).
I need/want to be doing holiday knitting! I don’t have much time to knit (since I can’t knit and edit manuscripts at the same time…..WHY don’t I have 4 arms?!). They aren’t friends with whom I exchange gifts, so it’s not like they can just count as Christmas gifts. And I’ll ask them to pay me for the yarn, but I couldn’t possibly charge enough to equal the time it’ll take, so why bother?
Luckily, I have the coming weekend’s road trip to/from Rhinebeck, and a couple of weeks later I have the long flights to/from Austin, to see my Katie girl. I can knock out a lot of knitting with those two trips.
And now, to the nicely large stack of manuscripts waiting for me! Lots of work this week, yay…..
you know I love you, right?
Dear girlfriends,
Thank you for everything – for oohing and ahing with me when I’m excited about something, for offering your sympathy and advice when I’m in trouble over something, for sharing your thoughts and humor every time you comment. For commiserating. For showing me yours. For helping me feel a little less alone. For being my knitting friends, my knitting circle, my blog friends, my people-I-know-are-out-there. I look forward to reading what you have to say, when I am notified of a comment. I happily follow you, check out what you’re working on, watch in admiration or awe or even envy now and then, at your mad skillz.
Thank you to new people who show up all at once, to people who comment once in a blue moon, and to you who I feel I know….Jocelyn, Laura, Pip, Turtlegirl, Janna, Kelli, Kty, Sara, Maya, Kate, Andrea. To those I feel I’m coming to know….AlisonH, Dina. To those I’ve met in person or will soon meet — Tammy, and Kelly.
After the terrible strange headachey weirdness zombie nothingness of yesterday, I’m grateful today and was just thinking of you.
Love,
Lori
p.s. picture to come of the new and improved Eve Shrugged! Amazing how right it looks!
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?
.
More later today – for now, this photo and a word to you wonderful people who leave comments. I have to say that your comments have been so lovely, I honestly did feel your caring presence with me! Kate, Kty, Jocelyn, Kelly, Gail, Tammy, Jocelyn, Laura, Pip, Anne, gibknitty, Andrea, Kelli, thank you for sharing one of the best moments of my life with me.
More later today – for now, this photo and a word to you wonderful people who leave comments. I have to say that your comments have been so lovely, I honestly did feel your caring presence with me! Kate, Kty, Jocelyn, Kelly, Gail, Tammy, Jocelyn, Laura, Pip, Anne, gibknitty, Andrea, Kelli, thank you for sharing one of the best moments of my life with me.
July 17, 2010
flowers and yarn, pure simple joy
madelinetosh - tosh merino light, in northumbria. THREE glorious skeins!
flowers from a very dear author and friend, and Crumbs(!) cupcakes from a very dear colleague and friend
the rebirth of my wowie zowie sock! YAY for following patterns and friendly assistance!
is there anything more beautiful than a peony?
i love my friends – i’m such a lucky person
So my dear friend Craig, another editor at my office, organized a smallish going away party for me at a neighborhood pub I’ll just call the Galway Hooker. Because that’s the name of it. There was an intimate, lovely room near the back, with 4 seating areas, and a waiter I fell in love with named Col. He reminded me so much of my son I had to keep forcing myself not to hug him.
Anyway.
Unbeknownst to me, Craig had taken 4 very old photographs of me and had them enlarged and mounted on foam core board. He and I got to the place a few minutes before everyone else, to kind of set up, and he started pulling these things out of his bag. He stuck them all over the room, and mounted one on the door frame going into the room. MY SHAME. First of all, it gave the space the air of a wake, and second of all, three of the photos are humiliating. But everyone liked them, and kept picking them up, gazing at them, and asking me about them. It was kind of sweet. Here’s the room:
here it is, the party room
It was a wonderful space, filled with people I love. Since you don’t know these people, I’m just inserting a slideshow – my kids and family, who’ve heard me talk about all these people, might want to see faces to go with the names. Otherwise you can skip them.
When each person left, he or she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. It was stunning and warm and loving, and I thought “this isn’t how people think of New Yorkers, and they’re so very wrong” because this is how people here can be. I love these people.
Today is the last day I’ll go into the office as a regular employee. I will work at home until July 7, which is my last real day as an employee – I’ll go back at the end of that day for the big going-away shindig, which is on the rooftop of a hotel in midtown….a gorgeous space. More about that party afterwards. On the way to the office, I’ll start the next Peasy swatch, with the next size down needles. It’s a beautiful summer day, and I am very happy. I hope you are too.
even though I’m exhausted, funny things ARE all around me.
The heaviness and exhaustion of my previous post is true, and so are a couple other things, to wit:
* I swear to all that is holy and funny, you have to click this link and watch this video. I promise you’ll roll on the floor and have to hold your sides from the laughter. It’s always funny.
* And this isn’t funny, but one of those “awwww….” deals. One of my authors wrote a great little book. It’s a smashing success, and we enjoyed working together very much. We became friends, he calls me Sis. The other day, this arrived in my office, with a note I’ll cherish:
click to enlarge so you can see it better
It’s a print from the April 24, 1880 edition of Harper’s Weekly, drawn by Granville Perkins – “View in Riverside Park, New York.” Weeks before, he’d written me asking for my associations with Central Park. A weird question, I thought, but what the hell. I answered, and concluded with a comment that Riverside Park is my favorite, even more than Central Park, because it’s my backyard, I spend a lot of time there, I love it very much. Pretty sneaky of him.
And now, to knit.
it’s good, if you can see that.
today is one of those not-so-good anniversaries that people have – one i dread every year. but i find myself feeling like a lucky person today. one of my daughters turned 25 on wednesday and was hit by a car while riding her bicycle. but she was not too terribly hurt, just bruised and sore, and she had one of the best birthdays of her life. i have a surprisingly large number of real friends, people i can and do count on to know me and love me [anyway], people i love and cherish. i get to be in this world another day. daffodils are coming. days are getting longer. banjo music. the beach, in 8 days. i have a job, whatever else i may say about it. my book club. my writing group. authors – “my” authors – whose work i admire and who are people i am so proud to know, and it still surprises me that i know these amazing and oustanding people. i live in manhattan, where i always wanted to live. i love and am loved by a man who shares a soul with me. i get to travel and see the world with that man….still arm-pinching in its surprise, for a homeless girl from wichita falls, texas. i have grown children whose lives transformed mine, and who are very fine people out in this world.
and daffodils are coming. who can be sad when they look at daffodils.
y’all review
thank you, 2010. and hello, gorgeous, 2011!
Thanks to a handy plug-in I found, I can summarize my bloggy year like this:
In 2010 I wrote 363 posts and added 17 pages to this blog, with 748 attachments in total.
In 2010 the posts were commented 1809 times, from which 716 comments (39.58%) were written by registered users/authors.
TOP 10 commenters in 2010 (I love you all — and everyone should visit their blogs, for real. I’ve linked to them to make it easy for you!):
There are plenty of new people who are lovely commenters, and I appreciate each and every one of you who ever leaves me a note. Really. Thank you.
TOP 10 most commented posts in 2010:
There were all kinds of other details in the summary but they were boring.
It was quite a year. Marnie got married, I quit my stressful job and went on my own, two pretty major things. I saw my daughters (yay!) but not for the holidays (boo!). I knit a few things, was healthy all year, traveled to Honduras, Laos and Cambodia, plus Austin and Chicago and upstate New York. Life is good, I am blessed and lucky beyond measure, I have wonderful friends of all kinds, and more things to do than time to do them. I met a bunch of new people who add so much to my life, even though we’ve never met in person. Life is so funny.
Happy new year, y’all. I hope we’re all here next year, able to say all the same good things and more, and count fewer bad things.