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Five States in 5 hours

Seriously, we did. Such is the state of air travel in the US these days. US Airways called to let me know there was a two hour delay on the flight home from Newark to Las Vegas. We would have missed our connecting flight back into Portland that was scheduled to arrive at 2:00 am. Yes I meant to type am.

Ellie's flight was to arrive at 7:00 am that same morning.

What came next was a mix of taut TV style suspense, car chases and a little Keystone Kops thrown in for good measure. I can tell you now, with great authority, that Marc has cojones the size of planetoids and that they are steel reinforced.

The original flight was supposed to leave at 8:44 pm from Newark. We were already on Manhattan when the call came about noon. This was not a case of poor planning on our part. I contacted the airline to find out what my options were. When I explained my problem to the operator she told me twice, or was it three times that my flight would get into Las Vegas at 1:30 am. I already knew that part. I asked her for a last time how that affected my connecting flight to Portland. She transferred me to a specialist, but could not give me a phone number to try if I was disconnected.

You can probably see where I am going with this. I was disconnected.

I called again and was given the chance to fly out of Newark at 2:33 pm. We should have had plenty of time to make it. Plenty of time except for the Free Tibet protest. Marc was so expert, so nimble at weaving between taxis and buses and clueless non native drivers, that he and Blackbird (his Prius has a name) seemed joined at the steering wheel. He cajoled, waved, cursed and railed for a few extra inches. It was a sight to behold. And then there was the Free Tibet protest. An immovable object came up against my darling unstoppable force. We conceded. It wasn't likely to happen.

I called US Airways again. So sorry to report that we can't get out of Manhattan this way right now. Any other flights you can find? La Guardia at 3:00. Hmm probably not given it's a Friday and we would have to drive the length of the island again. Who knows who else might be protesting.

Marc mentions Philadelphia. Bingo, there is a flight from Philly to Portland at 6:00 pm. Never mind that it's almost a hundred miles away. We'll take it.

That my friends, was my first introduction to the New Jersey turnpike. Marc expertly weaves his way out of Manhattan through a wide open Lincoln tunnel and we say good bye to the island of Danielle's dreams. We find ourselves amidst the hellish reality of toll roads. What sadist thought these up I'll never know, but soon enough we are rolling down the road at lot's o' miles per hour along a stretch of Turnpike that has a minimum of 9 lanes on each side. OK, I'm exaggerating a little, but it was huge. Periodically it squeezes into the toll booth and all traffic comes to a standstill. We press on.

Near the end of the trip along the NJ turnpike I begin to see airplanes - several of them. It reminds me of seeing hawks lazily, but attentively, wheeling above looking for a meal. It's a good sign, we are not far now. I start to relax but feel a little wary of what other traffic nonsense might be out there. Before too long though, we can see the city of Philadelphia across the river and I know we will make our flight.

Better still, it's a direct flight that gets us into Portland at 8:30 pm without a single stop. Not 2:00 am the next morning after a Dawn of the Dead zombie shuffle through the Las Vegas airport. We shuttle to the hotel in Portland and drop where we lay. Ellie's flight is delayed two hours till 9:00 am, but it's ok, because we will pick her up and take good care with her after we rest.

It's been a great trip. A chance for Danielle and I to reconnect in a positive fashion that allows for the adult she is becoming. But more on that later. It's good to be home.

New Yawk Here We Come

Getting ready to leave for New York, it's scary and wonderful all at the same time. I'm looking at what I'm going to take for knitting and reading. I think it will be the Wing o' the Moth shawl and the book Atonement. A good knit and a good read.

My daughter was home today from Hawai'i and it was so fun to listen to her talk about everything in her life. She is ready to fly. I just need to work on giving her the space to stretch and exercise her wings.

I might be taking a spindle and some fiber to spin too. Haven't decided if that's a good idea or a waste of precious space in the suitcase.

I have too many thoughts and feelings to put them in the blog in less than the space of a week. I'm hoping that I can relax during this trip and let Danielle take the lead. I'll also be seeing a little of Boston and that's a new place for me.

I'll be off the air for a bit, unless I can snag the computer for a bit. Be well, be safe, be happy!

Tour de Fleece

TourdeFleece
Originally uploaded by corneliusfirst

At under an ounce total it's not a huge amount of yarn, but it was a blast.
The red is my nearly ten year old Romney dyed with cherry Kool-Aid in the microwave. The white is bamboo and is underplied :( The Cafe con leche is tussah silk and cotton. All spun and plied on hand spindles.

I have to say that this was a successful challenge for me. It re-introduced me to spinning and also got me going on my hand spindles and plying on them for the first time.

I have selected the tussah and cotton yarn for a sweater project. I'm going to knit it up and see what it says to me about what it wants to be. The Romney may have to wait for another little bit, the bamboo I'm still not sure what it wants to be.

I did bake a pie - basically reduced a flat of berries to a pie, marionberry biscuits and anyberry jam. It's been a great weekend.

Doing what comes naturally

That's going to be me. I successfully created wool and bamboo yarn and I hope to bake a pie and dye the yarn this weekend. It's supposed to be cooler that usual so I won't heat up the house.

Not sure what I will use to dye the yarn, but we'll see. I'm also hoping for some out and about time. May all your dreams come true

The Bearable Lighntess of Being

I don't know if you saw that movie, the Unbearable Lightness of Being. They made a rough approximation of the book starring Daniel day Lewis. It's only now in my 50's that I have an understanding of all of the themes of the book. The book was wonderful, rich and nourishing to the soul.

My days are lighter than usual, and the weather is soft and welcoming. Berries are in season, and I haven't even picked any yet. I think I need to make a pie and freeze it for my kids to enjoy.

I haven't been baking - or cooking - much. But now with the kids gone, and my Sweetie back in Baltimore I am finally relaxing into a non-schedule of floating where I will.

It's good stuff. I'm going to try and do much more of it this weekend.

My world resumes spinning on it's axis

It's been a rough week or two. I think I've finally come out of my funk about Andi and so I've resumed being a human instead of someone hiding from the rest of the world and surreptitiously weeping.

And.....drum roll......Andi the bird has an interested party. Someone has noticed Andi and taken a shine to them down at the Avian Medical center. I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from me. Of course we'll have to see how it goes. This process is different from human adoptions in someways (less cost and paperwork) but similar in others (falling in love with your oh-so-hoped-for-to-be-new-addition-to-your-family). I pray that all things go well and that Andi will soon be in a home with another budgie so they can hang out and be pals together. It's not too much to ask.

Spinning is going well, I've committed to spindling enough yarn for a sweater - Buahahahahah! Yeah I know. I'm going to enjoy these next two weeks of relative peace and quiet. Then the world really does resume spinning madly. Soon - New York and Boston. My daughter will search for colleges, I will search for yarn.

Can't remember the last time this happened

I worked on my handspun bamboo today. I tried a center pull ball for plying and used a hand spindle to perform the plying. It was a bit of a knotted up mess, but the finished product was terrific for my first try at the fiber. I've put it into a warm bath and it's now hanging in the shower to dry.

I looked up to see what time it was and it was only 3:00. I've spent the morning cleaning the house and working in the yard and expected it to be like one of my normal way too busy, way to much stuff to do day. I accomplished the things I wanted to and still had time to lose myself in the act of creating yarn.

Yummy! I consider my Tour de Fleece to have been a total success and it's not even over yet.

Glad for a break in the action

Last night was better, although Andi isn't better yet. Yes I keep calling to check on her. I did manage to scratch the car though. It totally bummed me out. The bikes fell forward onto the hood and put a little scratch and the smallest little dent.

I also have a big planter/urn that has decided to plug and won't drain the water out. This is the herb pot and I don't think it will be replanted this year. We have a giant rosemary plant named Audrey (FEED ME!), another sage plant but no parsley. But at the rate I've been cooking it doesn't really matter. I haven't wanted to make food and experiment like last year.

All of my free time is taken up with knitting.

I had a peanut butter and jam sandwich for dinner last night. It's pathetic. Maybe I need to get a cookbook with 1001 delicious vegetarian meals for one person.

Knitting and spinning is going great. Although I seem to be undoing as much as I'm getting done in the knitting department. I'm taking it as an experimentation in design, try this, frog it, try that, frog it, find the thing I can live with. Tour de Fleece has been a good kick in the pants to get spinning on a regular basis again and I don't need to spend much time doing it to make progress. I've been in love with the bamboo, now that I've figured out a way to reliably spin it. It comes out thin and fairly even.

More pics soon

Shot from a cannon

So when it goes bad around here it goes from bad to worse. Last night I left work expecting to work from home. This morning, thankfully I took a shower early instead of waiting and went to plug in my computer and I turned it on.

No power cord.

Now as much as I love to think computers can do anything, I am not delusional enough to think they can run without juice.

I had waited to do everything else and suddenly it needed to be done in 20 minutes. Water the plants, let the dog out one more time, pack lunch and gym clothes, gulp tea.

I got here to work with my zippers zipped and my most everything I needed but I felt like I had a case of metaphysical whiplash. I am still feeling the disconnection - like I'm not quite all there. It also makes me want to stay home instead of going out to Sip and Stitch. I need a good talking to from myself.

Last night was no easier for me. I miss little bird so much, and I don't have any decent pictures of her to post. The house seems so big and empty.

Working through the feelings

I didn't outright bawl when I went into the house, but I did avoid the upstairs for a good long while. The vet's office called and kind of scolded me for dumping Andi bird on them because she would be hard to place, but I had few choices and all of them were worse than this one.

I sat on the couch and quietly knit most of the night with the dog as my ottoman. It was good. I'm going to try and do more of the same tonight. It's therapeutic, just as the Harlot has spoken about. Meditative.

I did have to maneuver around the giant hole I felt had opened up in the earth - it feels very real, although, of course, it isn't.

I'll wait for things to feel better.

One of the saddest days ever

This morning I drove my much beloved parakeet Andi off to the Avian Medical Center for the last time. I bawled through the whole conversation with the nice woman behind the desk - it embarrases me no end that I can't keep it under control.

Andi has had medical problems costing over 1,000 dollars since April of 2007. I have taken her to the vet at least 10 times since the problems started. The last time the bird specialist/vet let me take the medication home and I was able to begin treating her as soon as her troubles started. She rallied for a few days but this morning she was on day three of not eating and I just had to make the decision.

I still have to call her my daughter and tell her.

Andi was with us for almost 8 years. When she was well she was one of the cheeriest sights known to man. She was bright, spring green with banana yellow and her playfulness will stay with me always. My favorite recent memory was of her coming home from the vet and riding on the steering wheel so she could "drive" the car.

She will be adopted out. I think she is more suited to a home that has other birds and where people are home more during the day. I think that she suffered from depression when she was alone for too long and that made her get sick more easily.

So I packed everything up for her and put the table her cage sat on into a corner where I wouldn't see it as readily. I'm going to miss her so much it make me cry just thinking about it, but my life is taking a different turn. I want to travel more and bringing in another bird would have meant double the responsibility and double the cost. My children are on their way out on their own wings and their schedules don't include bird fussing.

I will have a hard time tonight walking in to an empty place in front of my bedroom window. I can stop temperature controlling that room now. I'll miss our time together each morning when she sat on her high perch at the edge of the shower and chirped for me as I started my day.

I'm hoping someday I'll have another bird for a pet when I travel less and I'm not so busy. A little green and yellow budgie

Tour de Fleece entries

Tour de Fleece entries
Originally uploaded by corneliusfirst

So here it is, my paltry spinning from this week. Plus it's undyed so it doesn't look like much. But someday it's going to grow up to be a hand dyed skein. The plain vanilla spindle holds my 10 year old Romney (hey the challenge was to spin from stash right?) And some bamboo acquired at Black Sheep Gathering in June.

Got Yarn?

My yarn filled box o' fun arrived from Blue Moon last night. In the box was also a binder and other fun things, like a NSK (notorious sock knitter) sticker or two.

My niece Georgia, who is now in her 20's is the muse for the way I feel opening the box. When she was 5 she had a freckled face and curly hair. When she was happy she would nearly shake with excitement, her shoulders lifted up to her ears. Her face sported an ear to ear grin that said it all. This is the coolest, most fun thing EVER!

If you could see me right now, that's the look I've got, shoulders lifted, goofy grin and shaking with excitement. I brought the binder with me to work. I think any non-knitter would take a look at the binder and cry OCD, me I just smile and dig in. This woman has work she loves and she is fully immersed. I'd love to know that feeling.

In Tour de Fleece news - children cover your eyes - I managed to spin, knit and "christen" our new bed last night. Sigh! It was fabulous, and I'm not just talking about the yarn.

Sip and Stitch Wednesday's

Our Wednesday evening group has moved to the food court area at Hagen's from Starbuck's. We were really starting to take up too much space in the back.

I was able to spin on the hand spindle for a bit sitting with everyone. The spindle is getting quite full. now I'm wondering if my idea to Andean ply will work since it will leave me with a folded end that will be difficult to graft together.

That will be something to ponder over the next week or so. Do I just tie it in the middle?

I'm also trying to think about what I might want to use to dye the resulting skein, if it's workable. Hmmmm very fun to contemplate.

Making Progress - except for pictures

I was able to get quite a bit of spinning in with the hand spindle. I did a little research on Andean plying and I think that is the route I will take when this is all done. My bobbins are filled with 'practice spinning of different fibers. I think it's going to take me getting my wheel upgraded to get that mess taken care of. Then I'll be forced to take the singles off and do something with them or delve deeper into combing fibers together to begin spinning cotton and silk, or silk and bamboo or...or...or...

Spinning from stash is cool when you have stash.

Sucker

I signed up for the Tour de Fleece. I need to make room for several consecutive days of spinning while the tour is on. It may be a way to get me into the habit for longer than a day or two. Here's to hopin'

Yard is definitely looking good. The bark dust is in, the drip irrigation is in. A littl emore planting to do and we'll be done!

I knit for awhile on the wing o the moth last night. It was a little bit less that relaxing at first because I dropped a bunch of stitches right up front. I had to unkit back a row or two to get them back onto the needle. In the end I got to the next level 6 repeats down, only 9 more to go for this pattern. I think I'll need to buy longer circulars.

Yard word is Hard work

We've been humping bark dust and planting plants. I'm filthy from head to toe and loving every minute of it. Now I am sore and not moving as well as I would like.

Wing o' the moth shawl is progressing nicely, Sauvie Island socks are sleeping. Not much time to knit when I'm filthy, but here and there I am getting some in.

I was able to log into the Blue Moon Rockin Sock Club blog today!!! Yarn is being dyed for the previous patterns so it'll be awhile before I see them, but they will arrive and I'll have more projects on the needles than I ever dared.

Four Day weekend

I know that Summer Afternoon are supposed to be the loveliest words in the English language, but honestly I think 4 day weekend has them beat by a mile. Combine 4 day weekend and Summer Afternoon and you will truly have me on my knees in appreciation.

I am now officially a Notorious Sock Knitter - a member of Blue Moon Fiber Arts Rockin Sock club. I didn't know much about it earlier and now I do I want to go to sock camp. To say it sounds like a lot of fun is an understatement. Hanging out with other knitters in a housework free, childless environment.

Almost too much fun to bear.

So more yard work, and then I promise pictures of the yard. I hope to have some fun and sleep this weekend.

I can't wait for the sock yarn to arrive. For me because I joined late it will come all at once and I will struggle (in a fun way) to catch up. Drowning in a sea of yarn. Too great.

The attention span of a gnat

I'm supposed to be sipping a mint julep in my lounge chair right now. Instead I spent the better part of the evening shoveling bark dust (mulch) around my yard. It's OK I knew the job was dangerous when I took it (obscure Super Chicken reference alert). Super Chicken Wikipedia In order to have a nice backyard, you have to work like a dog for an eternity or two or three.

This is my eternity.

However, I was rewarded by a view of the yard as I passed by last night. Damn it's looking good. There are some rough spots, yet, which I hope to dispatch this weekend. And then we will have to find some patio furniture to support the afore mentioned drinking of cold beverages.

No pictures yet, we've got a few more spots to make it really photogenic.

SIS

SIS
Originally uploaded by corneliusfirst

The first day of the rest of my life

My kids are in Hawaii safe and sound. I have verified this over the phone. Mission accomplished, the Eagle has landed, insert your favorite got the job done metaphor here.

Damn, but I am tired. I'm looking forward to having a four day weekend coming up over 4th of July and spending time plodding about slowly and deliberately like a plow horse. It will be a change from my usual hummingbird behavior.

Back to the kids. More and more I remind myself that the time is coming near that I won't be spending but the smallest fraction of my time with them. It's good, and sad and I need to keep focusing my attention outward to begin making the connections I'll need to survive the transition.

I think these socks will do rather nicely.

No more hole in my face

It seems silly in the extreme for me to remove an ice pick scar from my face at 50. But I have to say looking at the flat hole-less expanse that is now my right upper lip is pleasing to me. Very pleasing.

So no face lift for me, but no hole either. And today I saw the dentist about replacing my post and pin retention which has become fragile with a dental implant. The thought of biting solidly into an apple fills me with a sort of satisfaction I don't often know.

Off to bed. I'm a tired girl. I'll dream of chewing food with impunity.

Baa Baa Black Sheep

I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait!!

I think I may be too excited to sleep tonight. Over sheep, and wool and goats and fiber. Silly I know, but it makes me exceedingly happy to be headed to Eugene tomorrow to the Black Sheep gathering. The best part is I made a new knitting friend at WWKIP day and so we are traveling together which makes it double the fun.

See you all at the show!

On another note entirely, the painting of the kids rooms is done (not by me!!!) It looks nice. Next it to clean the carpets, bark dust the back yard, finish cleaning up the leftover sod from the lawn installation extravaganza.

I need a cold drink and some time in a comfy chair with a good book.

SahWeeeeeeeet

Checking kids in online the day before flight - Free
Airport parking to drop kids off the next day $3.00
Snacks, drinks, breakfast, gum and incidentals for day of flight $30.00


Shoving the kids down the jetway and skipping through the concourse shouting I'm Free, I'm Free, I'm Free

PRICELESS


Naps mid-day, no breakfast to fix, no fighting to listen to, the house stays clean, belly dance classes again (ahhh) WWKIP day with no pressure to leave early (AHHH). My knitting er um crap spread all over the kitchen island and no reason to move it.

These are just a few of my favorite things. Just call me Julie Andrews. More later. For now I'm having some power fun!

My Niece's Wedding

I left in less than my usual whirlwind on Friday because my Sweetie was in town and was a huge help to get all parties into the car and down the road. We had some minor traffic craziness on the way in and an issue with the dumbass rental car company - but after that it was golden.

My niece was radiant and the ceremony was short, sweet and funny. Very touching. They appear to be made for each other. The party was a blast, the hotel exquisite, and the best part was it was my family and no drama. Well no drama aside from my poor Mom and Dad looking for food that was not a)sushi b)vegetable c)heavily spiced or d)heavily sauced. I enjoyed the food immensely.

We managed pictures of all of the 5 siblings together. Something my half brother and I managed without speaking a word to each other. Why would anything change in 17 years? We also managed a picture of all 11 of the grandchildren. It was an historic moment and one I am glad I didn't miss.

I don't know that I have smiled and laughed that much in months. It was great to see my brother and he and my Sweetie got along sharing their IT geek stories. It made me feel so good to see everyone enjoying themselves and my sister - the mother of the bride - more than anyone. She looked gorgeous as well. I'll try to post pictures later.

I can keep my boobs for another year

Well the mammo came back clean and so I'll visit with the breast surgeon next week. That appointment is the day after I have a chunk cut out of my face on purpose. Add this to the list of appts including a second opinion on the dental implant.

It's expensive getting old.

Surprise!!!

This post should be accompanied by a picture of my oldest daughter losing 10 years off of her life from the fright we gave her on Sunday.

I still can't believe we managed to pull it off. We had a surprise party for her 17th birthday. It was all my youngest daughter's idea. I have to admit to massive amounts of skepticism at first, and a fear of the party animals spilling stuff all over my house and breaking things.

It's absurd really, they are all good kids with manners and they are 17 and 18, not 3. No sippy cups are necessary.

So we lured her out with the promise of lunch at Chipotle, and her friends snuck in while we were out and set up the party. When we came back to the house I ran in with my camera at the ready and went to the kitchen island and waited for her to arrive. The kids were hiding back there with me and were as quiet as the proverbial mice. When she came in they popped up and yelled surprise. I pushed the button on my camera only to find that I had had a firm grip on the power button, not the take the picture button.

Sigh!

She had such a good time it did my heart good to see her. Sorry there won't be a picture of her face, but maybe some good ones of the party.

Zen and the Art of Lawn Maintenance

I mowed the lawn last night, for the first time. It was quite good to push the little human powered mower around the yard. I was pretty lathered up when I finished and I didn't pollute anything - either noise or carbon footprint. Just a whirring sound and me huffing and puffing. It was a lot of work because the ground was wet and the grass was tall, and the foxgloves were blooming. That last part, that only made it hard because my eye was drawn to the flower beds.

What a treat! I have this image in my head of a little fox wearing these lovely gloves. The picture doesn't do the actual coloration or pattern justice. There is this fine outline around each of the spots in the throat of the flower. It's so magnificent that it brings me to tears.

It also gives me ideas about future knitting projects. Unfortunately I need to knit from my itsy bitsy stash for a while longer because I have big expenses coming up and I need to spend my money there.

The Drama Club

There has been lots of drama around my house lately. None of it relating to the titular Drama club. All of that was put aside for a moment last night when the estrogen haze hanging over the house lifted briefly to attend a Red Carpet event. The Kudos night for the drama club.

My daughters sat next to me most of the night and I got to meet the super woman who runs the department. I see why they love being there so much. It's like a big warm family, the kind I'm not able to give them because I'm mental and because my family is more mental and spread out along the West and East coasts (and Hawaii).

When I say I'm mental I don't mean that I'm abusive or I behave badly (most of the time). I'm broken in some ways, and I feign an air of serenity and sanity that is really just a veneer sometimes. But I digress.

Anyway I would love to hang out in this place if I were a kid. It makes sense now, seeing them all together. I made a decision which I hope I can follow up on. I want to volunteer for sewing and stage construction next year. I asked the kids permission and they both said it was fine with them.

I'm a good seamstress and I can follow pattern instructions and paint with the best of them. I'll also get to see my kids more often, before they fly the nest.

I've all but finished Marc's second sock. It needs a bind off that is done with a needle. He will be here on Monday and I'm looking forward to having him model them for me. I'll post pictures!

The rest of the story

From here things get better. I finish cleaning the house, and start to relax. I go to the gym. I take Hoku to the groomers and get he all washed up so she smells good, instead of just smelling. I get to spend the evening with one of my oldest and dearest friends and her daughter. We had a blast just visiting, eating and watching Dances With Wolves.

Monday is spent resurrecting the sock whose heel would not turn and the cuff without ribbing all the way around. It's fixed and almost finished now. Soon I'll start on the socks for my sister's birthday present.

It's a good day and I try to stop and think about the people who have given their lives so we can enjoy this good, good life.

Find out just how stupid I really am

Read on if you dare. This weekend was an experiment in empty nesting. My girls were off with friends and I was totally and utterly alone. Just me the dog and the bird and various plants that needed tending.

Part 1: The Sodding lawn

I hadn't gotten to finish the lawn yet because the sod I bought from Home Depot to fill in for the dead one from Best Buy in Town was crap. I arranged for a pick up from Best Buy in Town for one final roll on Friday. Which they couldn't find. Keep in mind they had already shorted us two rolls earlier. We were credited back for those two, but still.

After some searching they led me back to a pile of sod pieces which they offered. I took one and drove it home. Excitedly, just waiting til the moment I could say TADAH! it's done! I removed the old half dead pieces and rolled the new piece into place. It was 18 inches too short and 2 inches too narrow on either side.

Trying not to cry I called Best Buy back and asked to speak with a manager. I mentioned that while I understood that it wasn't personal, I was starting to take this personally. They could not locate my roll, because they had given it away. Their suggestion was that I go to Home Depot and find some. They also offered me a 25$ credit on anything I might purchase in the future. If I ever decide to purchase anything form them in the future.

I drove home from Home Depot and wrangled the too small piece out of the pie that makes up our lawn. I rolled out the new Home Depot treasure and lo and behold. The lawn was now done.

Too tired for even a tadah, not capable of a TADAH! I surveyed my handiwork and called it good. The lawn is officially down.

Part 2 The Stupid

Here's where it gets hysterically funny if you are not me. I woke up rested and refreshed. The day stretched out before me with all sorts of tempting treats. Farmer's market, belly dancing, knitting with other knitters, free to move about as I chose.

I went to the ATM to get cash so I could buy a few things if I saw something that caught my eye. Another foxglove threw itself at me and said I must take it home an d plant it with it's "people" in our new flower bed. Who was I to say no. I wandered the length of the market and then jumped in my car to drive out to Belly Dancing class. It was my least favorite teacher and in my hormonal state I couldn't bring myself to finish her class. She yakked on and on telling these lame jokes and I really just cannot stand to take another class from her. Everyone else loves her, but me I'm difficult and crotchety. I left class early, never to return as long as he is teaching.

Then I headed to the knitting group at Kathy's Knit Korner and think I'd like to have a chai as I drive. I reach in to pull out my debit card. Which is not to be found anywhere. I am just sick, and disappointed that I've managed to make a shambles of my relaxing weekend. I'm tempted to panic as I drive back to the last place I'd my card - at the ATM machine. I call my bank along the way - and am sassed by a young insensitive twit (ok hormone alert - again). I arrive at the ATM to find no card.

Before I can call the bank again, a stranger (attractive older woman who appears to have her act together) tells me that she has done the same thing before and that the ATM will pull the card back if it's left in too long. I must have gotten flustered with my new wallet and the excitement of doing so many fun things in one day and just left the card in the slot.

Well shit

I could have used this as an excuse to run home and beat myself up. I called the bank back and asked them to let me pick up the card on Tuesday - that's a no no for them. They have to cancel my card and wiat for a new one. I head down to Kathy's Knit Korner anyway and find no one there for knitting group except the owner Mary and her grandkids. I sit down and knit anyway and it proves to be one of the highlights of the day talking easy over our projects and getting to know my LYS owner.

Part 3 The Heavens open up and roar

I left at 3:00, drove home and began planting what was left to plant. It was muggy and overcast which is a sure fire indicator that thunder and lighting are on their way. It arrived with drops of rain and plenty of noise to keep any pet on their toes and thunder enthusiasts happy. The sound and fury continued over the next 6-8 hours and watered the newly sodded lawn into happiness. I was thrilled to turn off the sprinklers and let Mother Nature take care of it for awhile. There is something so satisfying in a thunderstorm. Afterwards the air is clear and not so hotand humid and it's like making up after a fight. If you do it right, it's peaceful and quiet.

Tomorrow I'll finish up the rest.

Detente

Things are a little smoother at home. I'm sleeping better with my darling boy off in Baltimore, no snoring. My daughter still treats me like a senile, bloodhound who is sniffing around trying to figure out what's going on, despite there being no need for it.

Some days I resemble a senile bloodhound to be sure. I can't keep up and nor do I want to.

This weekend should perk me up. 1. It's not going to be HOT. 2. I have lots of free time to do things I like, such as Farmer's Market and dance class and possible Kathy's Knit Korner to sit and knit for awhile.

I have some cleaning to do, some sleep to catch up on, and hours of time to decide what I want to do with myself

It's training for the empty nest you know.

Marc's socks have been really grumping me today. I turned the heel successfully. Third time's a charm! but now I have knit the cuff without ribbing all around so I will frog it back to the join of the instep and sole and try again.

Sigh!

A good experience

Work should toughen you up some. I sit at a desk all day, so not so much. This past weekend I was able to work outside - in the 90 + degree heat - all weekend long. It felt really good and really hard and I loved every minute of it. Even the sweaty hard ass busting parts.

I only got a little sunburned. For a day or two I saw a slight tan and I panicked a little bit that maybe my sun screen hadn't worked. After all of the effort I had put into getting my sun spots taken off it was hard for me to even consider that I had undone any of the work.

I think it will be ok.

So here is a lovely picture from the yard. Grass in and all.

In other news, I have lost my ability to knit. I have turned the same heel 3 times now and it's still not working for me. I hope my knitting skills return someday. I truly want to finish these socks for Marc.

I'm not sure if this is a new disease that robs you of your faculties so slowly that you don't notice until one day you simply cannot function like a normal person anymore. I'm a mess.

Fun was had by all

It was so interesting to meet so many fellow knitters. I had show and tell with my Fair Isle project and received some lovin' for the sweater. But that wasn't really the reason I went. I wanted to just hang out with other knitters and talk knitter talk. I knit on my sock for Marc for a little while and looked through a few books that someone had gotten down at Powell's earlier in the day. It was their first visit to Powell's and what wonderful books they are.

She had Shear Spirit which I've put on a wish list for myself. There were a couple of hand dyer books and one on linen spinning I didn't get around to looking at.

I left a little earlier than everyone else because I need to be up so early. I was yawning at 8:30 so I headed home in time to hang out with Marc for a little bit and then off to bed a very happy knitter.

On my last post I had my first real comment!! I've received 1 or 2 that were your typical spam comments - love your website - come look at my naked girl picture. It was from Rachel aka trtlgrl on Ravelry. It made me so happy!

I knit therefore I blog

I suspect someone else will have used that title before. But I'm fine with that. I've been knitting a bit more and using my new Schact hand spindle to spin a fine single just to keep my hand in. It hurts too much to sit down to spin sometimes. Standing is a nice change.

I'm going to try and head out to the pdx knit bloggers meeting at Starbuck's in Tanasbourne tonight. I'm excited to meet up with some of the folks whose blogs I read each day. I want to make more connections as I feel the connection to my oldest daughter slip away.

I want to stay connected to my youngest daughter who still needs me very much. It's a delicate balance. One that is made all the more difficult by the fact that my oldest is being viciously unkind to everyone. Especially to me.

I;m wondering if this is a failing of my mothering of her, or just normal 16 year old behaviour. Everyone tells me, she'll be back in 15 years or so. I don't know if I can wait that long.

Fair Isle Freak Out

Yes it's me, again. I disappeared for awhile. Work was so stressful and it was all I could do to get going in the mornings. Here's an update on the Ivy League vest

Only now in retrospect can I write about the latest news of the Ivy League Vest. It's been one of the toughest projects for me to complete and one of the most enlightening.

I have a significant curvature in my spine that makes clothes fit me differently than most people. The front of the vest was too large between my shoulder and neck on both sides. I tried it on an cried, I was never going to wear this vest because it just looked funky.

Enter my bright idea to rip out the armhole ribbing and then re-pick the stitches closer in. What a great idea - and it worked. Until I cut the steeked area too close to the ribbing. I thought I was doomed. After a good cry I took Elizabeth Zimmerman's advice to knit on through all crises. I took out the armhole ribbing on the other side and recut - c-a-r-efully. I then ripped out the "bad" side and re-picked up the stiches a second time.

Success! And it fits me beautifully. To think I almost tossed it into the trash now makes me cry almost as much as the bad cut. I have blocked it just so I could admire it's loveliness and watch the steeks fuzz up and become more bulletproof. I read Eunny Jang's blog on steeking and Fair Isle and she talked about the lovely quality of the wool after blocking and how serging is so counter to the way that Fair Isle sweaters are generally constructed. I am glad I read her words before I serged away. The sweater has a light fluffy feel with no rough, flat or stiff edges. And it really does fit me.

I've always felt that I was not able to tailor make things to fit me. It's either been the luck of the draw or store bought, but Knitting Daily's written pieces on shaping and this experience have taught me that maybe I can do this thing, in fact I have done it - and I didn't ruin my garment. Although for awhile it looked as though I might.

I'll post pictures soon.

Dashing about!

It's just maddening to have so little time to sit and think. Or type. Or knit. I'm feeling unhappy about it.

The best thing that happened is that the Neighborhood Watch big meeting is over and it was easy. I screwed up by not getting the post cards printed and I feel bad about that. But I just can't handle everything and expect something to not fall through the cracks.

A Tiny Sliver of Spring

This weekend was filled with cool things. I only wish I'd not been sick so I could appreciate them more.

It was my youngest daughter's birthday and I was able to bake her a lovely yellow layer cake with lemon frosting. She had pizza and a slumber party. They were well behaved for the most part. It was a lot of energy and hullabaloo for me.

Sunday we went out to distribute flyers for the Neighborhood watch meeting. It was a lovely day. Spent sometime with friends having coffee and I made lasagna in my slow cooker - really - I did.

Now I am exhausted. I'm thinking I need a restorative weekend. I'm going to have to work on that.

I other knitting news - there isn't any. I haven't picked up needles in over a week, bewteen the cold and the colonoscopy and Marc's visit. But it's OK. I'll pick them up soon. Instead I used my water color pencils to draw some of the oregano I'd bought for the lasagna. It was fun. It takes a lot of time and observation that deep takes energy. Something I'm very low on right now.

I'll get home early today and maybe nap.

Up Periscope

This time tomorrow I will be a large part of the way through a liquid diet in preparation for a colonoscopy.

I am not excited about this in the least.

Tomorrow a liquid diet, then the laxative from hell, then no food at all until I wake from my drug induced sleep and I can eat again.

Oh yeah, and I'm having a meeting at my house for the Neighborhood Watch. Right when I should be guzzling massive quantities of colon blow. It should make for an interesting night.

Never a dull moment.

Slipping the bonds

OK, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm speaking metaphorically here, about slipping the bonds of spiritual and emotional captivity. That wet sloggy feeling I've been having, due almost entirely to my whoremones. I feel as though I've been shipwrecked on Skull Island from the latest remake of King Kong - or the Pacific Northwest, they look a lot alike this time of year.

Eventually I return to my sunnier self who regains an interest in conversation outside of monosyllabic grunts. I stop eating in a manner that more closely resembles a rabid monkey who has discovered, after being locked in a cage foodless for a week, a cache of potato chips, bon bons and layer cake whose icing has been applied with a mason's trowel. I can restrain myself from rolling my eyes at the foolish and irritating things people say, such as Can I take you to lunch? or I love you Mom.

Those whores can moan - um I mean sing. They rap to me about my imminent firing for being the worst employee ever. Complete with driving beats, misogynistic lyrics and crotch grabbing. They warble endlessly about the wonders of sugar, or fat or salt as a food group. They perform an aria of exquisite beauty about the lack of affection and proper respect I receive from my progeny. Carmen would be proud.

As if all of this bounty wasn't reward enough my face begins to pump out enough oil to rival all of OPEC. I woke this morning to a chin which more resembles a high school freshman classmate who had the nickname Pizza Face.

As suddenly as it comes, it goes. The clouds break, my children love me again. I'm no longer a workplace pariah. I deal with wrinkles instead of wrinkles AND pimples and I stop looking like Gollum over my 50 lb sack of chocolate chips, whispering My Precious...

They are coming back next month whether I invite them or not. The good news is I've survived my week of whoremone hell without happy pills and lived to tell the tale.

My Winter

Life over here does not suck. Let me set that out there. I live in a warm home, we have plenty to eat. My children are healthy. My parents are still alive. Why does life seem so hard right now?

I feel barely human.

Once I head out to the different blogs I read, I see that I'm not alone. I have plenty of company. It's a grey, dark, miserable time and I'm so thankful to have a warm place to hang and not be out on the street.

Hormones are doing a number on me, and I'm worried about the colonoscopy, not because I'll be in pain, because I'll be out. Because I don't want to have to stop taking my vitamins that make me feel better and because there are dietary restrictions for a week. And the whole prep of taking a nuclear laxative is just unappealing to me.

I'm hoping I can wax poetic about the "clean ans a whistle" feeling I 'll have once I've shat my brains out.

Parenting - the great equalizer

Disclaimer:

I love my kids very much.

Parenting is very humbling work. Parents whose skills as a parent I admire, regularly confess to being stymied by the combination of intense devotion and mind numbing repetition that is required for your child to sit on the edge of the nest and finally fly out of it.

Don't slam the door, don't leave your shoes there, please pick up your toys, books, clothes, keys from the bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, hallway floor. Cover your mouth when you cough, don't pick your nose. Say please. Say thank you. If I had a penny for every time I uttered those words, or others like them, I'd have my villa in Italy several times over.

The counter balance to that - is the 16 year old agreeing to give me a kiss on the cheek - in front of her equally 16 year old friends. Without a trace of irony or inducement of any kind. Placed along side is some of my 14 year old telling me that if she were raising kids she would do it exactly the way she was raised.

The scale metaphor is an apt one. We exist best if we can find a balance and you must test for the balance to maintain it. The kids are testing the balance quite rigorously these days.

My children saved my life. I've said that before and I'm not afraid to say it again at the risk of being redundant or boring. They opened my spiritual eyes to the needs outside my little emotional prison I had built. They made me human, when I was only partially that. We have developed a depth of trust I never thought possible. I eat sleep and breath their steadiness and their hormonal craziness. The testing part is normal, scary and funny. I'm taking it as more of a game of Spy vs Spy. Who can outwit who, with a comical twist. I never know what they will come up with and it requires all of my wits about me to play.

And, my kids are really straight arrows. I can't imagine what it would be like to play with kids whose arrows travel a rougher, less steady trajectory.

My life is weathering some high seas of my own making. I'm stretching to make connections with people and to let go of my expectations as I do so. For someone who has been so solitary it's an excruciating transition at times. I confront my own thorniness and push through until I rest up against the thorns of others. If I were more trusting, this would be so much easier. But life arranged a series of lessons for me that made me believe that trust was a dangerous thing. I'm wanting to unlearn that.

I'll let you know how it goes.

The Prius Land

I swear that a Fairy Godmother has come along and sprinkled fairy dust on my little life. In an effort to rouse myself out of my doldrums, I MADE myself count all of my blessings. I mean really pay attention to the little bits that I tend to ignore, and minimize the stuff I usually focus on. The stuff that makes me envious and unhappy because I DON'T have this thing or that.

I thought I was doing such a miraculous turn around and then I noticed something odd. This state of happiness seemed familiar. The deep, baby like, sleep. My breathing is comfortable and my chest isn't tight. It's the happy pills.

Before you turn me over to the police for being the living embodiment of the Valley of the Dolls. I take a vitamin and herbal supplement for PMS. It has copious amounts of Vitamin B6 and some Calcium and Magnesium thrown in. The formula keeps me from being arrested as a mass murderer a couple of weeks out of each month. Best 15.00 a bottle I ever invested. I'll see my kids graduate from High School in person, not in a striped suit, behind bars via video link.

It's a little upsetting to realize that mood is really such a matter of brain chemistry. Ultimately I hope to use this information for good. Now I feel a bit like a person with bi-polar disease. If I go off of my meds what will happen?

Anyway, back to the Fairy Godmother. In Sleeping Beauty - Disney style - the fairies fight over the color of Aurora's dress with little zings of their wands. The gown changes color from pink to blue. Some of the overspray wafts out of the fireplace if I remember correctly. It must have come over and twinkled itself onto my Prius. I swear this morning when I came out to the garage the Prius had the exact shade of blue as the Blue Fairy dust.

Marc teases me fairly regularly about wearing green and professing blue to be my favorite color. I can say without any doubt that blue is my favorite color. For me to be driving a blue Prius is almost too much good stuff. But don't get me wrong, I'll take all that good stuff like a man, or a woman. The car is so impossibly cute and blue and quiet and most importantly CLEAN It's like driving the sky. Cielo Blu seems to be the only thing I can name her. It means Blue Sky in Italian.

I think this is what happens when we get older, we become more childlike. Naming inanimate objects, believing in fairies, wanting to get out of school and play.

Please don't let me regress so far I need a diaper.

A - SAD - state of affairs

Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, is a tough nut to crack up here in the Pacific Northwest. Although the days are getting longer and lighter, it's still grey and gloomy most of the time. Right now it's also really cold. Not a happy state of affairs for me. My best friend nicknamed me the Hawaiian Hothouse Flower. I'm tender and not particularly hardy to cold below 40 degrees or so. My leaves curl up and turn brown.

I've noticed my mood has been difficult for the past few weeks. Some of that has to do with my Sweetie being out of town. Some of that has to do with my changing role at home with my children. Some of that has to do with the normal ebb and flow of hormones. It's an uneasy truce and I am finding it hard to cope without lots of sleep, exercise and quiet time.

Throw in the rebellion my right right arm has begun to raise and I'm just a few hankies away from an asylum. Luckily for me, there is one just down the street.

My right arm is a source of constant information for me. It tells me when I've been working too hard at cleaning the house. It tells me when I've been knitting too long. It also tells me if I've slept on a bed not suitable for me, or sat too long in a bad chair, couch, car seat - or just sat up too long period.

Start with the cleaning and throw in a little hand spinning, kneading of bread and knitting and you have a 5 alarm fire in the joint capsule which is jumping the fire lines into my chest, neck and fingers at an alarming rate. If you pile on the continental knitting I've been doing to further the cause of the Ivy League Fair Isle vest well you might as well just lop it off. The arm is useless.

So I'm coping with arnica, self massage and ibuprofen. My next stop will be to try one of those warm wraps you can leave on all day.

Getting old ain't for sissies, that's for sure.

Parakeet-a-rapto-saurus - the devil bird of Cornelius

The Parakeet-a-rapto-saurus is an elusive animal. It comes out of it's cage reluctantly and I'm usually missing a chunk of flesh when it does.

This morning I brought "It" down stairs to exorcise - um exercise it's wings and left it sitting on the counter top next to my laptop.

That was my big mistake.

As I turned back to my laptop I saw the Parakeet-a-rapto-saurus staring at me as it flipped the neatly amputated Esc key of my laptop across the counter. I stood there for a good three seconds before it registered what had happened. The damn bird had eaten my laptop.

I picked up the little monster and stared straight at the beady eye that was facing me. I calmly explained that I was going to squeeze it's slightly unripe banana yellow and green head until it popped off. The Parakeet-a-rapto-saurus opened it's fierce beak and replied....... Tweap!

To be honest the key popped back on as easy as it came off. I'll be twice as wary as before when placing a known machinovore next to my craptop computer again. I must say, however, that I would never in a bazillion years have guessed that the beast was so powerful and that the machine was so weak.

Maybe I need to cut back on the raw beef I've been feeding it.

An adult, two kids, two ladders, a screw driver, and a flashlight

That is my answer to the question "How many people does it take to change a light bulb?" That plus a dog.

Unbeknownst to me, when you change large fluorescent bulbs in a fixture that is on a 9 foot ceiling it's not a walk in the park. In fact it can involve high drama, injury and destruction.

That's why we needed all the stuff. The dog was there to add the high drama as she sat on the other side of the door and whined pitifully.

So where do I begin? Yesterday I created something called thermal shock in the one and only light fixture in our laundry room. This laundry room isn't technically anything special. All of you have a room in your house that is the main conduit between you and your stuff in the house and the world outside. Ours is the laundry room. It has a set of doors that lead directly from the outside world (the garage) into the inside world (the house). Just about everything that comes into the house comes in through those doors.

There are no windows.

It resembles a human colon in function actually. We take and absorb what we need into the house and the rest is waste that ends up in the garbage can/recycle bin. Graphic but accurate description. You get the point.

That lack of window makes for a problem when the transitioning thing is going on. No light equals steps that are stumbled on, clothing and shoes are tripped over. The careful staging that I have done of things that must transition in or out of this room come to a screeching halt because it's pitch black. The domestic equivalent of constipation.

Back to the thermal shock. I only know this because my dearest Sweetie has an encyclopedic knowledge of all things. Sometimes it's the Encyclopedia Brittanica, sometimes its the Encyclopedia Craptanica. He informed me that my rapid switching on and off of the light switch caused this thermal shock to kill both of the bulbs in the fixture.

Go figure and let that be a lesson to me.

Well I could have waited for Sweetie to get back, but I'm not sure when exactly that would be. He just left and he's got more work than time back east. Suffice it to say that the colon of the house could not wait that long to go. I had to take matters into my own hands.

The evening went this way. Me calling Sweetie from Fred Meyer "Um, what kind of bulbs do I need to buy to replace the ones I wantonly killed?" "Hmmmmm let me look" Sounds of tapping on a computer (thank GOD for Google). After what seemed like forever, because I have to pee and I'm wearing my uncomfortable work clothes he comes up with a number. The numbers on the bulbs match his research but the bulbs don't have green ends (I don't know either, it must be an electrician thing) but at this point I will die if I don't pee, so I buy the things and resolve to take the old ones out of the fixture to check against the new ones for size and shape - prior to opening the package.

Get home, pee, don't change clothes because that would make life easier. I am not about easy right now. I am about fixing this. Yes I climb the ladders with my work skirt and sweater on. The tights, surprisingly, survive to cover my legs another day.

Bring a ladder into laundry room without taking the cars out of the garage. Something I will be sorry about later because carrying a ladder through the garage with out dinging either of the cars proves to be very, very tricky.

Unscrew the end of fixture at which point the other end magically jumps off of the ledge holding it up and flings it self toward the floor.

Curse a blue streak and burst into tears, in front of my kids. Listen to my daughter tell me to relax, it's all fine. Tell my daughter the parental equivalent of "it's my party and I'll cry if I want to." Set my parenting cred back about 15 years.

Survey the damage. I've managed to direct the wooden part of the fixture into the laundry basket with a relatively soft landing. The large piece of rectangular plastic that covers the bulbs and diffuses the light has not been as lucky. It has a 1/2 inch long piece that cracked off the corner when it hit.

Curse some more, mostly under my breath.

Oldest daughter gets some tape and fixes the corner.

I bring another ladder veeery carefully into the laundry room. It's suddenly much more crowded in the laundry room.

Swap out bulb #1. It immediately bursts into a blinding white light. Take a few minutes to let my right eye stop seeing the after image. Oldest daughter turns off the switch.

Swap out bulb #2. Turn the switch back on s-l-o-w-l-y to make sure all is well. And it is. Both bulbs work. Whoo Hoo!

This is where it gets tricky. It's a combination of the three of us running up and down the ladders, sometimes two of us on one ladder, until the screw is back in. This is not as easy as it sounds and it suffice it to say that I cursed a few more words and sweat a bucket. No more tears.

Carry the two ladders back out to the garage. Spare both cars again. Put the tools away and turn the light switch on and off s-l-o-w-l-y a few times to survey my handiwork. Make like Tom Hanks in Castaway after the fire scene and beat my chest a few times.

Go upstairs, change into my flannel pajamas and suck my thumb after a brief conversation with my Sweetie. I can't talk for long because I am completely spent.

The dog is devastated she wasn't involved.

OMG it's, it's a p-p-p-p-PRIUS!

I'm not quite sure where to start, but my Sweetie and I have been car shopping. It's been an intense process full of twists and turns. Both he and I have different ideas of what is important and what constitutes proper due diligence when looking at cars. I look at Consumer Reports for reliability and safety. He looks at Edmonds.com for tips on pricing, resale value and depreciation. I look at cuteness and how bitchin' someone appears while driving the vehicle, he checks out literage of the engine and the trueness of the alignment.

Together we make a force to be reckoned with when shopping for a car.

Add to the fact that he knows how to bargain and we made another big purchase together. A 2008 blue Prius. I love it so much I would marry it if I wasn't already sort of married to my Sweetie, cuz, well, that would be bigamy.

Holy Hybrid Engine Batman what a great car. I literally couldn't wait to get into the car last night to drive it home. I watched the numbers float between 50 and 75 MPG on the monitor. The numbers weren't the only things floating. The car is quiet and drives like a magic carpet. I had so much energy when I got home I walked the dog.

The money I could save on gas is insane at $3.00 a gallon. At $4.00 I get light headed just thinking about it.

There is a part of me that thinks I just do not deserve this car, and another part of me that thinks life is short and good things are meant to be enjoyed. Aside from the fact that my Sweetie is not here to enjoy it with me (he had to go back to the East Coast last night) I'm going to bask in this lovely bit of fun and luxury while it lasts.

Last one to the gas pump wins!

Nimby-ism

I've just portaged across the parking lot with a gym clothes filled, banana yellow, plastic bag slapped on top of my head to keep the rain off. I'm sure I looked ever bit as attractive as I am describing. And sane.

It's a concept I am holding at arms distance right now. Sanity. It's the Whore-moans you know. No need to delve into that here - again, please?

So what's this got to do with Nimbyism (Not In My Backyard). Late in December I discovered a flier attached to my door. It was decidedly not good news. There are now 3 convicted sex offenders living within a half mile of my house. In the mix are an arsonist, an attempted murderer and a burglar. All of them have been determined to be criminally insane. The state released them to this group home, mostly because they did not know what else to do with them. That group home is a few blocks from mine.

But the most horrifying wrinkle of all. The psychiatric review board for the state has allowed the group home staff to walk these people around the neighborhood without restraints. If one of them breaks free and makes a run for it, the staff will only call 911. They will not chase the escapee down.

Seriously, the group home said it's all cool because nothing has happened since they opened in August 2007.

You have got to be out of your ever lovin' minds people. The group home is surrounded by single family dwellings full of kids who don't know the difference between a crazed maniac and the slightly weird neighbor next door. Anyone who takes exception to my description of these folks can kiss my rosy cheeks (the lower set). As far as I can tell this is just one big accident waiting to happen.

I understand that these homes have to go somewhere, but it seems to me that a secure, lock down facility does not belong in a neighborhood full of kids when some of the people in the home are convicted sex offenders who are criminally insane.

I dare anyone of you out there to tell me they think that is a good idea.

Writing out my New Year's resolutions

I have a book I keep that is filled with pictures of things I love. I've cut them out of catalogues and magazines over the years. I have written out poems and sayings and pasted in full passages from articles.

It says a lot about me. What it doesn't say about me today is that I am a rabid bitch on wheels. This pre-mentrual whining is brought to you by the hormones Estrogen and Progesterone.

I took down the book after 4 years yesterday. I can't believe I missed 4 years of writing down what I hoped to accomplish in the coming year. The last entry was January 2004. It hasn't stopped me from accomplishing many good things. I just feel sad that the continuity isn't there.

I wrote many of the same things, but I think there is something different afoot. I want to point the focus onto restarting my creativity. I want to be creative again. I used to think nothing of making up my own dances (who cares if they were any good). I painted and carved and made jewelry. I know I can do this if I can only rouse myself from this long sleep I've been in. It's frustrating to be at work when I want to be knitting or spinning or cooking.

When I first entered the work world I felt like it was wonderful I could do this thing and take care of myself. I've worked mostly at jobs that paid the bills, not jobs I necessarily enjoyed. I've got some leadership qualities, but I doubt myself on a regular basis and the things I say to myself still tend toward "I'm an idiot", rather than "I'm human and make mistakes".

This creativity comes with a price. It takes time away from my duties as a mother. I can just lose myself in the project and time disappears. It makes me afraid because I'll do this to the exclusion of friendships and healthy down time. The ever present need to strike a balance.

So for my year in review - the things I think I've accomplished.

1. Trip to Italy taken. Finally after 5 years I was able to make it happen.

2. Got back to Belly Dancing (we won't talk about the not being back to Belly Dancing now part.

3. Stayed in a healthy relationship and kept it healthy by talking about what was really going on in my head and heart.

4. Delved back into the world of knitting again and really let myself sink into that lovely fiber haze. Went moony eyed and warm all over when I drove by sheep for Chrissakes. Dreamed of projects. Started some projects. Didn't start others.

5. Finally ripped and re-knitted myself a pair of socks. The first pattern was unlovely and resembled a knitted golf club cover. The final result was not only comfortable and warm, but it resembled a sock - and for extra bonus secret decoder ring points - it was toe up.

6. Kept up a new fitness routine which has given me a stronger body that allows me to knit for longer that 5 minutes at a stretch.

Things I added to my 2008 list are - for the most part - the things that have been there all along. To be a better friend, most of my friendships die from benign neglect. To awaken the creativity that I know sleeps inside me. To be an awesome belly dancer. To allow my children to grow with age appropriate parenting (their age, not mine. I reserve the right to act like an idiot at a moment's notice.)

What's conspicuously absent is the resolution to get more sleep, eat better and relax more. The oldest driving and no soccer has given me back so much time. I don't want to waste it.