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happy! joy!
SUCH a wonderful, happy day for me! I finished the final little details of my old job, tied up every last loose end, left nothing undone, left on a very high note.
I finished grafting the shawl together, and it LOOKS GREAT! I was so worried that the graft would be obvious and weird, but you know the kitchener stitch is really amazing. It really looks seamless. Now I just have to weave in a couple of ends, then soak it for a bit and do the blocking.
Isn’t it great when the things that hang over you are finished? You know that glorious feeling of liberation and accomplishment and exuberance?
Yeah. I’ve got those going. After I finish the blocking, I think I’ll do the next swatch for Peasy, so I can work on it on the flight later this week. To my daughter’s wedding. Two girls happily married, that’s another great relief, you know?
blocking
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The final farewell at work – and thank heavens, the party was moved into the office, instead of on the rooftop of a midtown fancy hotel at 5pm in the midst of a record-breaking heatwave. The office lacked a certain charm, to be sure, but it had the awesome benefit of air conditioning. It was sad to say goodbye, even though of course I’m still working with everyone in a consulting capacity.
I thought you might like to see what the office of an acquiring editor, on Madison Ave., at a major NY publishing house looks like. Here it is back when my stuff was in it:
a LOT of great books were signed here
that's Madison Ave down below my enormous window
and now, the end is here
My friend Craig, whose office is right next to mine, saved the day for me many a stressed-out day, and I think I did the same for him. He’s away at a conference, but I stopped in his office to take a picture of something that makes me smile.
he kept that 5th grade picture of me, right by his computer. aww. 
One more day, tomorrow, of tying up loose ends and then I’m done.
For now, I’m watching A Single Man, that incredibly stylish Tom Ford movie, with Colin Firth and Julianne Moore. I just finished eating a pint of peach frozen yogurt for my dinner, and I’m going to knit for a while. That seems like a nice way to honor this transition, from something to something else. Stay cool, y’all.
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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.
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Well, aren’t I glad I did this – I dutifully completed my (first) swatch for my beautiful new Peasy sweater. Last night I wet blocked the swatch, and I just unpinned it, got out my measuring tape, and checked my gauge. Using a 3.5mm needle, my gauge should have been 22 st and 30 rows = 4 inches. But I got 23.5 and 31 rows = 4 inches. Here are my lessons learned:
1) because I now know from my Wowie Zowie sock lesson that what seems like a small difference can actually be a very large difference,
2) I need to go down a needle size, and
3) the fabric is going to be absolutely gorgeous, with the most lovely hand and drape ever.
Madelinetosh is not in danger of being toppled from the top of my favorite- yarn- ever list — especially not with tosh merino light in this world — but Rowan Tweed has scootched immediately to a close second. I think I’ll knit a Manu with Rowan Tweed after I finish my beautiful Peasy and an Austin Hoodie with TML. I also have enough yarn for an Inaugural sweater.
Oh dear. I think I’ve just become a sweater knitter.* Good thing I live in a place with a long cold winter.
With a nice long weekend coming up, I have knitting plans that include finishing Marnie’s wedding shawl and getting it blocked, doing some work (you know, instead of saying work I’d rather say ‘fun’) doing some fun on my Wowie Zowie socks, and maybe I’m just sayin maybe getting going on my Peasy. Last night was the first major festivity associated with leaving my job; 20 people I work with came to a little party for me, and it was quite amazing. Much toasting and fete-ing and love; hugs and kisses from each one at the end. Tonight is a drinks farewell with my boss’s boss and my best work friend, Thursday night is my writing group. Not much will happen until the weekend but it’s all going to be fun. When it’s good, life can be really, really good, you know?
*disclaimer and acknowledgment: knitting a swatch does not guarantee becoming a sweater knitter…there is still the ability to be in it for the long haul, the perseverance to finish all the fiddly bits, and (for some sweaters) the ability to assemble pieces. The jury is still out on me with these parts!
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I was sitting here thinking about this moment in my life – leaving a secure (though terribly stressful) job without anything specific lined up – and thinking that I feel happy, and full of hope and possibility. This wasn’t always true; in fact, for most of the 6 months I’ve been considering this move, I have instead been terrified, imagining that I am too old, at 51, to start something new. That nothing would happen for me, that I’d fall into poverty and death. (dramatic, I know, but you know how fear can do that to you!)
Then a line from a wonderful old song popped into my head: What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours… But instead I thought, What a difference a mood makes. “Mood” isn’t quite right – it’s much deeper and more pervasive than a simple mood, but it fit the lyric rhythm.
Perspective. What a difference perspective makes. Perhaps it matters whether you’re looking at your feet or at the horizon. Truth is a raspberry, not a piece of sand – bulbous, multifaceted, multicolored, round, bumpy. The truth is that I am 51, and have started over so often I have a patchwork resume. But the truth is also that I can do a lot of things, and am flexible, and – not unimportantly – I have a husband who is supportive and whose income makes this kind of move possible. I cannot be a lady of leisure (though I’d be so great at it!). I need an income, but for the first time in my life, I am not the sole or primary support of 4 people. For the first time in my life, I have the freedom to at least take the leap and see what happens, and that’s a pretty lucky thing.
Here – pick a version of that great song and give a listen. I recommend that you start with Dinah.
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So. On Monday I gave notice at my job, and I didn’t know what to expect. I knew they would be surprised – and they were – but beyond that I just didn’t know. I was prepared for everything except what happened.
They cried. They really did. My boss cried when I told her, and came into my office the next day, sat down, and did it again. Colleagues said the most incredible things, things that were hard to take in. Inside, I imagine myself as just slinking around the perimeter, and not registering with people. I imagined that I’d just quietly slip out the door and no one would even know I left for a while. But that’s not what happened, and it has blown me back off my feet. It’s hard to take in, hearing people tell me what they think of me, what I mean to them. (Remember when you were about 12 years old, and you’d get mad at your mom for something and imagine that you died, and everyone was at your funeral, and they were all so sad, they’d all be so sorry then? This has been something like that, but without the death part!)
They immediately started listing freelance work they want me to do, so they can keep me around and also to help me, which is kind. My authors have wailed, and sent me the most amazing letters that I will absolutely cherish.
I think this is true for most people, and we just don’t realize it. We make an impression, we have an impact on people, people in our lives feel all kinds of things that they don’t ever say, because they think they don’t need to, or they’re shy, or they’ll just tell you tomorrow. I think you’re a very lucky person if something happens while you’re alive and you get the chance to hear it – especially if it’s all at once. So maybe the other side of that is that we should actually tell people these good things we feel about them.
One thing nearly every person said in their little lists referred to my sense of humor. Well, I am a dramatic person, I do have a quick and dry sense of humor, and my reactions can be large and hilarious. For example (you can see that I like you, I’m willing to be ugly in front of you), someone snapped this shot at a birthday party they gave me. I was responding to something someone said. Oh the humiliation….
silly, dramatic me
So anyway, I’ve been silent because I’ve been silenced by all this. Plus I’ve been insanely busy. I did finish the wedding dress and today I bought beautiful little Italian mother-of-pearl buttons from Tender Buttons, which is such a cool store. Only in New York, man. We have a button district, yes we do. In the morning I’ll take it to the cleaners for a good pressing, then get it off to my girl, the bride-to-be.
I promise knitting content will return soon. I’m dying to return to knitting…
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I go around thinking I know a thing or two, especially where words are concerned. I was one of those funny little kids who spent all her free time reading the World Book from A to Z, the Child Craft from beginning to end, the dictionary from AA to Zygyzy….read and repeat. Read and repeat. Then embroider a little pillowcase. Then back to the obsessive reading. I still love to read, and love dictionaries and reference books. My graduate research – and my dissertation – were all about the psychological import of the specific words people use. I love words and think about them a lot.
So imagine my surprise to listen to a great little TED Talk, by Alain de Botton, in which he defined the word snob in a way I’d never heard: a snob is someone who takes a small part of you and uses that to come to a complete vision of who you are. At first, I kind of jumped back a little and did some sassy back talk to Senor de Botton: IS NOT! That’s too simple, and anyway, that’s the definition of stereotype, so there. Ha. You’re wrong and I’m right.
But he’s right. That’s exactly what a snob is, isn’t it. It’s a topic of conversation on Ravelry, here and there – people self-identify as ‘yarn snobs’ and if someone talks about having used acrylic yarn, the yarn snobs sometimes come out of their dark corners to say unkind things. So those who don’t want to use acrylic yarn have decided that people who do use acrylic yarn are … well, a whole bunch of things. It’s very interesting to think about the word snob in this way, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I listened to the podcast in line at Starbucks 2 hours ago. Here’s the talk – it’s very nice, and is more about success and failure than about snobbery, though snobbery does have its place in the mix:
Today has been a really shitty day, there’s no other way to say it. One of my authors has decided that I personally betrayed him because of the way we had to price his book, and he has spent an awful lot of energy and pixels writing me the same email a dozen ways, emphasizing the personal nature of the betrayal. To soothe myself a little, since I am working at home today, I cast on 15 stitches and knit a few rows of stockinette in this luscious madelinetosh pastoral, colorway terrarium. I have to say, it did make me feel better:
such pleasure
And I’m nearly finished with one sock, will knock out the toe tonight and cast on for the other one, so I can work on it in the subway tomorrow:
at the toe now, sock #1 will be finished tonight
I’ve decided to name this pair of socks “minkeys” – a play on pink monkeys, and also I hear it in my mind in the Inspector Clouseau voice and that just makes me giggle.
I hope you’re having a better day than I am!
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A random mishmash o’ stuff today:
* It’s been a hell of a week – 12.5 hour workdays, which were nowhere near enough. By the end of each day, I was still too far behind, how does that work?
* I saw a friend I usually see once a week, and the evening I was on my way to see her, I thought ‘man, it feels so long since I saw her!’ It took me the whole trip to realize that I hadn’t seen her in 2 weeks, and that’s because last week I was on vacation. In Honduras. Last week feels like forever ago. And not real.
* Until this moment: for our vacation, my sweet husband packed the electric kettle, a huge coffee mug, a plastic cone for making one cup of coffee at a time, and a stack of filters (plus a bag of fresh-ground really good coffee). So every morning on vacation, our routine was that he made me a cup of coffee, I got out of bed, and we went on our porch – me, to knit and drink my coffee, and him, to rock in the hammack and think, or talk to me. So this morning, I just made my coffee and poured a cup into that particular mug. The vacation feels real, I remember it. And I wish I were there.
Two sides of me:
* The not-so-nice side – I always get really mad on the subway when an adult with small(ish) children expects other adults to give up their seats so the kids can sit. What??! Kids have all the energy! They haven’t just worked a terrible job all day, they’re not stressed out, their backs don’t hurt! I’m sorry, if you’re 4 or 5 years old and there’s enough space for you to very safely stand and hold onto a pole, I am going to keep my seat. Bite me, adult giving me a dirty look.
* The nicer side – I have a friend who had a major stroke last year and who is currently in the darkest place of suicidal depression. She’s very brave but she doesn’t know that (or anything good) right now. So yesterday I wrote her an email that included this: “The bravery of us poor little frail people in this world, going forward as if we know what we’re doing, going forward as if it’s all somehow guaranteed (until something happens and we’re reminded that it’s not……but we go back to our old habits of thinking it’s all guaranteed). It makes me feel quite tender toward humanity whenever I think about this. Here we all are, with all our troubles, with the pain and trouble that we all bear in one form or another, with our small joys and our fragile hopes and plans. Here we all are, tiny little specks in an unimaginable infinite, on a tiny little planet whirling around a tiny little sun in just one little galaxy, here we all are, doing our best. GREAT. Now I’m starting to cry. I think we are all amazing, and that includes you. And I guess, then, that it must include me.” See? I can be kind towards people. Just don’t ask me to give up my seat to a 4-year old.
Finished the monkeys – will block them and get them in the mail to Katie first thing Monday morning:
one's a little smaller than the other - i'd bet the smaller one is more tightly-knit and therefore the one i knit here in Manhattan. looser = vacation.
blocking the monkeys to make them closer in size to each other; actual color is closer to the photo above this one, which came out weirdly golden.
We have a 3-month plan: I am putting all my ducks in a row, getting everything lined up to quit my job in 3 months. Period. I’ll teach, as much as I can; I’ll do writing and statistical consulting, as much as I can; I’ll try to do developmental work and rewriting on manuscripts for publishers, as much as I can; and I’ll make things and sell them, as much as I can. We’ll pare down our expenses, as much as we can. I cannot persist in this job that sucks the living life out of me. I’ll be 52 in November, and I say uncle. I want to have a life that’s not just bearable and happy on the weekend, you know?
This week, 3 people at work quit. Two of the editors in my group are going on interviews and will leave the second they get another job. Granted, I don’t know everyone on my floor, but everyone I do know is looking for another job. No exception. My boss even told me that she suspects our brand new assistant is already looking for another job. My company is based in the U.K., and there, it really is an enormous honor to work for this company. People stay with the company their entire lives – so very proud to work for this company. And I get it – it’s an amazing amazing and old company! It published the very first book. BUT (1) it doesn’t hold the same cachet here, (2) the Madison Ave experience is 100% different than the experience on that lovely lane in that beautiful town in the U.K., and (3) publishing is under such pressure now due to the economy and the transitional moment between books and online presentation of [free] content, we’re all turning into diamonds from the pressure.
Anyway. Lots to get done this weekend! No easy traveling knitting right now, as my knitting time is turned entirely to the wedding shawl. I’d hate to carry that in the subway – snowy white cobweb-weight wool, complicated Estonian lace patterns. My only other knitting alternative right now is the lettuce-green Ishbel, which is also a bit hard to do on the subway. So this weekend I’ll get back to the shawl, and I just have so much other stuff to do towards my eventual release to freedom. I feel myself getting lighter, just thinking about it.
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I know, talking about the snow is getting SO OLD. Posting pictures of the snow, the same. But I haven’t done so yet this year, and even though I’ve been living in the north for 7 years now, snow is still an exciting thing for a Texan – especially this much snow.
As much as I complain about the soul suck of my job, one good thing about it is that for the most part, it’s possible for me to work from home if I need or want to. And today I wanted to, because of the silly pronouncement of the “snowricane” or “snowrnado” (depending on which weather site you pick). Reports of Gusting! Winds! UP TO 75 miles per hour! Days and days of power outages expected! Watch out! And also: back alert weather. The snow is heavy, and you might hurt your back so watch out.
We haven’t had the winds – at least here in Manhattan – but it has been snowing without stopping all day long. It started snowing before 7am and there hasn’t been a moment’s pause. Some hours the flakes are huge, like monarch butterflies (thanks to my husband for that one), and other times they’re normal sizes. The trees are hanging with heavy snow on the branches – all the way out to the tips, hanging heavy. The snow is so wet, it falls in fists off the ends of the branches. It’s really pretty. I sit at a desk right by the window and work work work, pausing to glance out the window at the beautiful view. Want to see?
practically my back yard
pretty lampposts
Riverside Drive - so empty!
the end of my street
I know they look like black and white photos, but they’re not. It’s just a black and white world right now. Very very pretty – especially since I get to just watch it out my window.
Tonight I hope to get some knitting done, and I have a LOT to get done this weekend: making the pillows using my new fabric, finalizing a syllabus, cutting out that wedding dress I still haven’t cut out, and encouraging my husband to paint. That one might be the trickiest. You know how that goes, right?
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