Hubris Academy

My new blog location

2008-09-28T18:49:00.000-07:00

The new blog lives at http://tracybird.wordpress.com

Five States in 5 hours

2008-08-10T06:49:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-27T13:53:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-25T15:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-24T08:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-19T16:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-17T11:53:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-15T13:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-12T08:22:00.001-07:00

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?

2008-07-11T08:54:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-10T08:43:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-07T11:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-05T08:49:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-03T12:47:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-02T10:04:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-01T10:55:00.001-07:00

SIS
Originally uploaded by corneliusfirst

The first day of the rest of my life

2008-07-01T10:19:00.001-07:00

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

2008-06-26T22:02:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-20T11:26:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-04T14:41:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2008-06-02T13:30:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-30T12:52:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-29T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-28T16:17:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-27T15:56:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-16T15:16:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-09T15:43:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-02-26T16:35:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-18T07:45:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-11T16:21:00.001-08:00

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

2008-02-08T15:09:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-04T09:52:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-25T08:50:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-23T12:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-21T12:32:00.001-08:00

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

2008-01-16T15:22:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-11T10:14:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-01-08T16:19:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-03T14:58:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

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.

I-Pod Meme

2007-12-31T12:49:00.001-08:00

The iPod Meme

This was a drive by tagging.

According to the rules I read over at Persistent Illusion, after you read this meme, you have to do it, too.

If your life were a soundtrack, what would the music be?

Here’s how it works:
1. open your library (iTunes, winamp, media player, iPod)
2. put it on shuffle
3. press play
4. for every section, type the song that’s playing
5. next section — press the next button
6. don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool

opening credits: Paul Simon - The Boy in the Bubble

waking up: Snow Patrol - It's Beginning to Get to Me

first day at school: Suzanne Vega - Frank and Ava

falling in love: Switchfoot - Meant to Live

breaking up: Jack Johnson - Banana Pancakes

prom: Reda Darwish - Marhaba (KICK ASS belly dance drum solo try that in a prom dress

life’s okay: Shawn Mullins - Beautiful Wreck

mental breakdown: Pat Monahan - Cab

driving: U2 - Beautiful Day

flashback: Sonia Dada - Old Bones

getting back together: U2 - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

wedding: Coldplay - God Put a Smile Upon My Face

birth of child: Edgar Meyer - Old Tyme

final battle: Anna Nalick - Paper Bag

death scene: Angelique Kidjo - Salala

end credits: Indigo Girls - Least Complicated

If you read this, your NEXT!

On to the next project....

2007-12-31T09:13:00.000-08:00

Not so fast. I want to bask in the glory of this one for a bit. She's lovely, and every thing I could ask for. I'm speaking about the lovely Lady Oriel of course! Nothing particularly pithy to say today. I'm happy that my investment of time and energy has yielded such lovely results. I have to say that the pattern was accurate and easy to read and sizing was spot on.

I would not recommend this for beginner knitters. It's an easy pattern to learn, but the increase and decreases could be a little daunting for a new knitter.

I substituted a different yarn for the silk ribbon yarn. It's my first substitution which went so well. My means for choosing another yarn was to search for one with a similar weight and yardage. I had a few choices, but only the alpaca and silk of the Elann Peruvian Baby silk was of fibers I knew I could wear close to my skin without itching. Plus the price totally rocked. 36.00 instead of 152.00

I plan to post pictures at Ravelry.

Wrapping up the year and the Lady Oriel

2007-12-28T07:21:00.000-08:00

It's nearly the moment of truth. I placed all of the held stitches onto waste yarn for the front and back of the Lady Oriel and then blocked her, within an inch of her life. Tonight I hope to knit the front and back together and pick up all of the stitches for the neckband.

It's always a dicey proposition when you make an article of clothing. I'm not talking about generica, like hats and scarves. It's one of the reasons I stopped sewing clothes for myself. At the end, with all the work put in, does it really suit you?

As exhibit A I give you a lace jacket I knit several years back. It's gorgeous to look at and to touch. It's soft, slightly fuzzy, and very elaborate. It belongs on someone much more petite than I - the tall, lanky, white girl with the face of an old woman. I've worn it a handful of times and was never comfortable in it. After 4 months of knitting, ripping and finally finishing, it's a thing of beauty that sits in my closet. I hope the Lady Oriel isn't like that.

The entire lace jacket is knit, not a single seam sewn. The lace pattern took me sixty eleven tries to get right (and in some places it's still not right). I had to buy another skein of yarn once I was on my way because the knitting and ripping had felted the hell out of the mohair and silk yarn. I'd never heard of a life line being used in lace knitting so ripping was cause for much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. I just leapt in and began, and learned, and cried in frustration and relief, and purchased more yarn until I finished something that just wasn't right for me.

If that doesn't sound crazy, I don't know what does. Still at this end of the year it seems like a good metaphor for me. Just try your damnedest to complete the thing with honor. Pay attention, give it what it needs and cross the finish line. Sometimes it's the project you finish, sometimes it's the project finishing you.

The Christmas Song(s)

2007-12-19T10:26:00.000-08:00

So I did end up knitting last night, while waiting for the Holiday concert to begin. After drinking a cup of tea late in the afternoon I was awake enough to knit. The concert was one of the best ever. I was far from counting the songs till it was done.

It began with the "Show Choir" that my daughter is part of dressed up like the Whos from Whoville. They sang a few songs from the How the Grinch Stole Christmas soundtrack. Dressed up like Whos, from Whoville.

Next my other daughter sang with her choir, and then back to oldest to sing with the small group that rehearses in the morning. Back to youngest playing in the orchestra and then both of them - one playing violin and one singing. They performed a Requiem for the father of the choir teacher. It was truly lovely. They finished with the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah.

It made me so happy I wanted to cry. I was too happy to cry so I just smiled real big inside.

The best part of the show came later when Ellie performed her interpretive dance for us in the garage. I'm telling you, she's got some Lucille Ball in her.

Lack of sleep will do that to you

2007-12-18T16:15:00.000-08:00

I worked hard on the Lady Oriel this past two days. Last night I hit a wall. I baked cookies for our cookie exchange here at work, and then drove out to the airport to pick up my sweetie.

I finally laid my head down at 12:20 am. It wasn't pretty this morning.

The Mister snores alot when he's tired. Which is like saying that hurricanes are windy or the ocean is salty. It's so essentially him. We'd had the presence of mind to set up the bed downstairs for one of us. It's sad when you spend your first night together in a long time in separate beds - and we aren't even mad at each other. But, it exhausts him to worry that he's snoring and waking me, so he wakes himself all night.

It's this torturous, rasping sound that rises to a crescendo and never really falls back to quiet. It's the most noise I've heard anyone make with just their nose. If it wasn't so tiring to hear him laboring away like that I might laugh and enjoy it. Sisyphus himself couldn't be as worn down pushing that damn rock as the work that my sweetie performs in his sleep. Breathe in like a Tyrannosaur, breathe out like a steam engine up an incline hauling 500 fully loaded cars.

You get the idea.

Long story short, I'm tired in a whole new way. Conversation is too much of an effort. I'll just grunt in acknowledgment. I did go to the gym, but I could do that in my sleep. Oh look! I did do it in my sleep. Knitting lace is entirely out of the question. I'd only have to rip back from the abyss and cry alot.

Instead I'll go to the Choir Orchestra concert. Mind you this is High School so it's not the Toot, Whistle, Plunk and Boom of years past. (See the Yarn Harlot's post The Kid with the Viola wasn't too bad) These kids can play, and sing. Most of the time it's lovely. I'll be counting down the moments till I can climb into bed.

My Christmas Wishes

2007-12-17T09:23:00.000-08:00

Bah Humbug aside, these can be some of my favorite days. There is no pressure to be outside and I can bake and cook to my heart's content and no one thinks the worse of me. Except me, when I eat 3 scones in one day. I know, it's pathetic, but they were sooooo good.

I've finished my shopping and sent off all of the cards I'm going to send. I've done a better job of not feeling guilty about what I have or haven't done this year. My kids are heading to their Dad's for this Christmas, in Hawai'i. That's a tougher nut to crack for me. I don't seem to have what it takes to let that one roll off of my back. Maybe that is why I've been so cranky about all things kids and Christmas. I'm feeling like the Grinch and my heart is three sizes too small.

So my Christmas wishes, aside from world peace and an end to hunger are as follows:

That my children will continue to find their way in the world in such an exemplary fashion as they have so far.

That Marc will find more peace in that belfry he calls a head. He deserves it at least as much if not more that most.

That my parents will continue healthy for a little while longer. I'm just not ready yet.

That I can begin the dig to creativity and unearth the fossilized remains in belly dance, knitting, blogging and in the kitchen.

That I can find employment that pays well while I am enjoying myself and staying busy. I know, Universe, that I've got to be a lot more specific, but right now it's all I got.

OK, ready set - GO!

The blessed colorfulness of it all

2007-12-14T16:31:00.000-08:00

What, you might ask, could I be thinking about in this weather. After the riot of color we had this fall, how could I find anything colorful in this landscape of no leaves or flowers.

Well find it I did, and I need to take a picture of it. The Burning Bushes have their lovely red twigs still, and the berry canes are bare but PURPLE! I am not making this up. They are purple!

I'm knitting a sweater that is deep forest-y, evergreen tree, gray-green. It's lovely yarn and has been since I bought it, but I am jonesin to knit colors together. I spoke yesterday of my design to design a sweater. but my lack of brain power to work out the necessary math for the borders and peeries set my teeth to grinding. I purchased a Fair Isle book by Ann Feitelson and tried to decide which type of sweater I would knit. I took a Fair Isle class. I spent 30 dollars on Jamieson yarn. I swatched funny little borders and patterns without pressure. All in hopes that I would be magically transported to the Island of Fair Isle sweater success.

My math hating, blind spotted brain was NOT fooled. But then along came the Winter 2007 Knits magazine. From Knitting Daily came a quick glimpse of the promised land. I couldn't believe my eyes. Right there in the magazine was knitting Valhalla. Eunny Jang had read my mind and was so kind as to have designed ME a Fair Isle vest to knit.

OK, just to give you some background. I made my beloved a sweater a year or two back. This was not as easy or straighforward as it sounds. His sizing is challenging and he lives, most of the time, across the US. Long torso, short arms, round belly. So I did my best to knit something that resembled a sweater. It was three tries on the sleeves with weeks in between try-ons. Two tries for the neck until it was just right. It made me somewhat crazy and took ages longer than I wanted it to.

I don't have the patience to do that right off the bat with Fair Isle. Knit lace I'll leap into the craziest pattern ever with nary a second thought. But Fair Isle, no.

So I'll knit this lovely sweater using my own color combinations as soon as I finish the lovely Lady Oriel. I need to hustle up before I begin an affair that ends my relationship with the LLO. That would be a shame.

Knitting news: Where in I admit that I am not cut out to design anything

2007-12-13T15:35:00.000-08:00

I'm making my daily pilgrimage through the knitting blogs I hold near and dear. The Yarn Harlot, as usual, is making me nearly hysterical with laughter.

I've been knitting slowly on the Lovely Lady Oriel. It's much easier to knit the back when the front has already been finished. This time I didn't sweat the decreases because I'd already sweat them the first time. Mostly because I didn't know if I should do the yarn over here, this time, or forgo it. There was lots of to-ing and fro-ing on the number of stitches that should have been on the needle when I finished the decreases. I subtracted too many and then added too many back when I discovered that I hadn't really subtracted too many.

This time I missed by one stitch and decided to call it good. I've also decided that there are two kinds of lace knitters. Ones who can do math and therefore design knitting patterns, and those who lose the ability to add 2 + 2 when tired or distracted. Those are my people, and their idea of designing a knitting pattern is to make multicolored stripes in a stockinette scarf. Whoo Hoo! I'm a designing fool.

Same holds true for fair isle knitting. The math and spatial skills required to embody my dream knitting into a real life project escape me in a way that only be called complete and total. Between the number of stitches needed for the proper sizing, and the number of stitches needed to knit a repeating peerie or border I become lost like Hansel and Gretel with no bread crumbs.

It hurts me that I can't wrap my brain around it. It's like a giant mental blind spot. You've tricked yourself into finding your blindspot before right? I just can't hold the two numbers in my brain long enough to have a meaningful relationship develop between the two before the fog comes in. As soon as I've got the total number of cast on stitches in my head, I then try to divide by the number of stitches needed for each repeat. My brain just refuses to go there.

So I'm happily a pattern follower. Same with recipes. Sadly, I feel that makes me a complete washout in the creativity department. I turn out lovely, serviceable and some might say delicious things, but it's somebody else's lovely and delicious. My belly dancing is the same way. It wasn't always like that. I used to be able to improvise and make stuff up from out of my head. I wonder if that person is still in there waaaay down inside. Hiding.

But I'm not giving up. Us non-designer types must number in the millions. I'm betting there are way more of us than there is them.

Happily knitting away on someone else's glory... Till soon.

My hair resembles a hot air balloon

2007-12-11T15:18:00.000-08:00

While some people would undoubtedly take this title as a free pass to remark that "It's not just your hair that resembles a hot air balloon", I've decided to open with it anyway.

It's tough being 50 sometimes. Those days of rolling out of bed with little more to do than basic hygiene are behind me. Even a good night's sleep can't restore me to some semblance of my younger self. The lines are there on my face no matter what I eat, drink or smear on my face. Although I do have a magic cream which improves things, it's an improvement, not a miracle outright.

For a nature girl like me, it's doubly tough. Were I to begin using makeup at this late date, the results are sure to be more Bette Davis in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane", than baby faced beauty. Coming to grips with this slow downhill slide is daunting and requires all of my menopausal superpowers to cope. I'm guessing this is why God invented chocolate and masturbation. Among other things those indulgences makes you forget, at least for a little while, that we all end up as a heap of lifeless meat and bones in the end.

My sweetie and I had a discussion last night. He's a busy guy, very much in demand for his skills with computer programs used in law offices. He spends much of his time fielding calls and nonsense 24/7/365 from a variety of law office based sources. I'm a single mother of two teenagers. I field calls and nonsense 24/7/365 from a variety of teenage sources. Those demands are built into my schedule at work. There is no argument about who wins in a pitched battle. My kids. Work, almost without exception, takes a back seat.

Sweetie man is childless. And, he's a man. Ask me what defines my success. If I can point to anything it will be the demonstrable ability my kids are showing at negotiating this cluster we call life. Ask my significant other and he will likely point at his musical ability or the kinds of projects he does at work.

Do you see where I'm going with this? Let me set this straight first. It's not that either one is bad, or less than the other. They are just sooooo DIFFERENT. So, when I speak to him about priorities and not spending so much time at work I'm not sure it translates for him to anything sensible or useful. I might as well say, well you can't spend your whole life playing music now can you. When in fact I know he could and he'd love it. Telling him not to spend so much time at work is, in many ways, just as silly. Work feeds him, and tells him he's still got it.

Which brings me back to this tough being 50 thing. How do I still know I've got it? There is no Mom Olympics where I can compete for best parenting. I'm not going to win any beauty contests, even for beautiful old souls. And looking in the mirror is daunting. I don't have THAT anymore. I think I feel like I still have it while I'm still learning. Learning a new technique for knitting, learning Italian, learning to be more compassionate, trying a new recipe, creating something new. I forget to be concerned about my looks or lack of them and I just exist in this happy state I didn't know was possible 10 years ago.

So I'll deflate my hair tonight, and laugh at myself because it's funny to see Hollywood hair on such a Woodstock face. I'll remember that I am 50 and not 20 and I'll act my age, in a manner of speaking. Hopefully, I'll make something with my hands that is useful or delicious. Hopefully I'll forget to look in the mirror and make a face. Hopefully I'll find losing THAT means finding something even more precious

The End and an Introduction

2007-12-06T16:04:00.000-08:00

I'm having a lousy run at work this week. I'd much rather be making like a glamorous travel writer and pestering, um I mean sending you all the latest in my travel writing series "The Glamour Life in Italy" by yours truly.

I have to face facts. The vacation is over and I'm done reliving it through blogging about it. Sigh.

The trip back to the US was loooog. By the time we arrive in Seattle, we have been awake for most of 24 hours. I still have a 3 hour drive ahead of me, if no one decides to drop a load of pipe on I-5. It's here and now I realize that I am sometimes a grownup, and grownups get to call the shots. Except, apparently, in the case of American Leadership where the best we have managed lately is frat boy rule.

I weigh my options and after picking up our rental car I head for the nearest Double Tree Inn. By 10:30 pm we are out like the proverbial little light bulbs. The drive will wait until tomorrow. We wake, enjoy a BIG American Breakfast and waddle our way to the car. There is the obligatory stop in Olympia at Starbucks and then safely home where we struggle to remain upright and coherent for a few days. I'm done, finito, all over. I'll close with an advertising cliche....

Neck pillows for long plane flight - 90 dollars

Sampling every kind of pizza in Italy twice - 400 dollars

Not missing even one souvenir stand in search of the perfect gift - too many dollars

Spending quality time with your kids before they fly the nest - PRICELESS

And without further ado I introduce you to the Royal family du Pillow. Or what happens when you spend quality time with the people you love.

Wrapping up and heading home

2007-12-05T10:04:00.000-08:00

I ask the man at the train ticket desk in Milan for a ticket on the tilting train to Zurich. The tilting train is fast and sleek. I've had to go to three different lines to get this train ticket because I want to buy it a day or two ahead of time so it won't sell out.

When I finally get through the third line and purchase the ticket I am a happy girl. Until I realize that instead of the sleek, tilting train, I have gotten the "Slow boat to China train". The sheer number of lines I would need to transit in order to rectify this is more than I can bear, and at this moment I am clutching a ticket for 4 to Zurich so we can go home. I shrug my shoulders and think - It's an adventure!

The Milan train station has numerous levels and the only difference between it and Dante's hell is the temperature. It's like a gigantic open barn, only colder and wetter. It's also undergoing a renovation. An idea whose time came right after it was built. There are pigeons galore who must be kicking themselves if they flew in to get out of the cold and wet. I'm not sure even they can find their way out.

While we wait for the train to Zurich, an older couple pulls their luggage up next to us. They are Americans, headed for Venice. The girls and I are watching the departure board for the gate to our train. Italian departure and arrival boards are retro, old school, cool. They make a little flipping noise as the numbers and letters whir around. The girls are fascinated, as am I. The one in Milan comes with a added bonus. Something is wrong with the wiring or software so that the first 3 entries on the left are always misspelled. Bergamo becomes Berfalo. Turino becomes Trhnno. You get the idea.... This takes place in between teasing Sweetie man about his habit of calling Venezia (ve-neht-zia) - Vi-nizt-a.

The woman of the older couple walks away in her bright blue rain jacket, her red hat and red rain boots. I watch her husband get progressively agitated as the time for their train gets closer and she doesn't reappear. He asks me to watch for her as he starts making a sweep through the station. He comes back, still alone. I hand him my cell phone and ask if he wants to call her, but it's an international phone and I can't make it work. We actually have to leave without knowing if they find each other. They make a lasting impression these two. As you can see I am still thinking about them.

At this point I have led our merry band of travelers across a good sized swath of Italy and I am tired. Not cranky tired, deer in the headlights tired. I think my Sweetie senses this and he immediately jumps in to help. He's ridden a fine line for sure because he's usually the take charge guy (no really!) in his world. Because it's my birthday and because it's my "trip I've been planning for years" he's been very accommodating. I'll explain this heroism here shortly.

We ride the train up to Zurich through the Alps. The last time I tried that was on a filthy train that had no heat. You want heat when traveling through the Alps. Trust me on that one. Even though this is not the tilting train, it's still lovely. We roll through towns that would make Helga the Punisher homesick if she were real. I try, very hard, to take a picture of the lakes we pass through the window of the train. The results are uniformly bad.

We arrive in Zurich which again is unknown territory for me. I don't speak German and unlike most of the places we visit, there are precious few English placards to explain what is what. I've counted on the famous Swiss engineering to make everything easy. I'm expecting a big sign with flashing lights and arrows pointing to the Irwin-Frack-Wexler destination HERE.

Add to this Oldest has to pee really, really bad. Mind you she had her chance but didn't want to use the train bathroom. It costs money to use the bathroom here, Swiss Franc money. We only have Euros money.

This is where my Sweetie swoops in for the rescue. He says - I'll go find out what we need to do and I'll come back. Which he does, after a few anxious moments, tickets (and Swiss Francs) in hand and instructions on where we need to go. He has, at this moment, the shiniest armor of any knight I've ever seen. We get on another train out to the Flughof. How can anyone say they are going to the Flughof with a straight face is beyond me. Flughof is German for airport. It's almost as funny as Einfahrt which means arriving or entering. Let me tell you we have plenty of fun with that one at each train station when the announcements are made in German. But I digress....

We arrive at the Flughof and take the hotel shuttle to the Park Inn Zurich. We discover the Park Inn is a McDonald's Hotel. Surprisingly the rooms are excellent. Clean and warm, with beds that raise and lower like a hospital bed. The shower looks like a futuristic transporter. Quite frankly I'm wishing we could go in, get clean and show up back in Portland without the hassle of flying. Sadly it's just not that kind of shower.

Switzerland is expensive, even more than Italy with the bad Euro exchange. We decide to eat at McDonald's because the kid's are really keen to, and the hassle and expense of getting out and about is a damper. When the grand total comes it's roughly 50 dollars for some burgers, fries and one beer. Talk about sticker shock. Shrug your shoulders with me people, "It's an adventure!"

Off to bed with us, tomorrow is a looong day.

A word About Pigeons and the journey to Milan

2007-12-04T10:11:00.000-08:00

There are lots of pigeons in St Mark's square in Venice and there are still places where you can purchase feed for said pigeons. And you can pay someone to take a picture of you feeding the pigeons while the pigeons swarm all around you in search of food. Feeding the pigeons is not for the faint of heart, or those with absorbent clothing. If I were to attempt this I'd don a hazmat suit with level 4 bio hazard filters. I do not need a case of bird flu. Or a shoulder full of bird poop.

The screams of the pigeon feeders echoes across the square. There is a woman, dressed in a mini skirt and boots that has pigeons roosting in her hair and all over her expensive looking jacket. The man of our party manages to have a quick conversation with a pigeon who is either shy about feeding frenzies, or is slow in the head and can't figure out where the food is.

Milan is where the trip turns more real. The weather changes to Portland weather, dark, wet and cold. Good for us we have our honorary webbed feet and Goretex. We wander the streets of Milan in comfort. It's a big, big city. Or it seems that way because we have been driving around in the suburbs with my Sweetie's friend C. C apologizes for the rain and I keep explaining that it's just like home, we are used to it. I don't think she believes me that it's really that awful anywhere else.

In the foreign films of my youth there were always shots of itty bitty European cars driving in madcap fashion around the streets of the city. The roads are narrow. The traffic signs a formality only. The heads of the passengers in the cars swaying to and fro as the car darts through traffic. There is always some funny music playing in the background to add to the madcap air.

I can tell you, that it seems a whole lot more madcap on screen than it does in real life. C is not a bad driver, and the car is not small. But there are Oldest, Youngest and me swaying from side to side in the back seat wishing for some funny music to distract us from the idea that death is imminent. But we survive to see the sights.

First, the Milan cathedral, whose gargoyles spit rain water at us. It's also where I almost strangle an Asian couple for trespassing into the "Do Not Enter" area of the sanctuary, and then almost certainly earning a lightning bolt and quick trip to hell by sitting down in the confessional and taking a picture. God is merciful and ignores the trespass. That's why God is God and I'm just me.

Next we visit a castle. A real castle that is in perfect condition. It has turrets and a MOAT. It's too cold for alligators in the moat, but it's the coolest thing anyway. Then we head off to a church that has been in the same place since 349 AD. Yeah, three millenia. It makes my little art history geek heart beat wildly. Milan is new territory for me. I'm as new to it as the others and it's the sort of stuff I love.

We spend Thanksgiving with C. She makes tasty food whose name I can't pronounce or spell. We stop at a supermarket to pick up the makings before hand. I've seen signs for the store in almost every city. I've been calling it Eye-purr-Co-Op (Ipercoop). C pronounces it Eeepercoop like some adorable Italian hiccup. The cheese aisle is mind boggling, the bread aisle even more so. The deli counter is the size of Rhode Island and has at least 4 million kinds of cured meats and olives. Across the top of the counter hang whole cured pork shoulders in case you need to feed half of Italy for a party. Oldest convinces me to buy some of the ricotta cheese which she eats with a spoon straight out of the container. Want ultimate proof that the food in Italy is stellar. I eat sardines, on bread, more than once.

We are sad to say good bye at the end of the evening, but we have a long journey ahead of us, which gets a little bit longer. In Italy you leave your room key with the front desk. When we arrive back at the hotel, the key we dropped off when we left after breakfast has gone missing. There is a front desk printer that has jammed and is merrily beeping away as it tries to print on the roller. A gentleman shows up behind us to check in - but there is no reservation under his name.

To say the least we are worried. I send the girls - who have a key - up to their room. I then begin speaking toddler Italian to the night desk man. I ask him about un'altra chiave (the other key)? He brightens up like I've just told him how to meet the girl of his dreams. He peppers me with questions about where this other key is. I realize I've made a tactical error. Eye-O no-know-o where-o el keyo is. I explain that I can speak some Spanish, and I do. I let him know that we left the key this morning after breakfast and can he please call someone to ask about where a spare might be. The lights go on, the printer beeping mercifully stops. He makes a phone call and pulls out spare keys one and two. We won't be sleeping in the lobby tonight.

The next morning I see the gentleman who had no room. My magic Spanish must have worked for him too. He looks rested and not at all like a man who slept in his car. We have breakfast and speak about Hillary Clinton with the hotel manager. It's a sobering conversation and one I think about over the next few days. That exchange serves to bring us back to reality. People have the same struggles in Italy that we do in the US with jobs, and not enough time to enjoy life and bad leaders. I've known this, but it really sinks in.

Tomorrow it's a train through the Alps to Zurich and then home.

Venice Queen of the Waves

2007-12-03T09:20:00.000-08:00

Venice is a woman, make no mistake. She is a lovely, regal monarch who has presided over the affairs of Venetians for centuries. many of those years she ruled with an iron fist and was the most powerful of any kingdom, poised as she still is between east and west. She's dressed in the finest of clothes and they leave a lasting impression. Thirty years ago that impression was that some of her wardrobe was showing it's wear. The stylish shoes were run down at the heels, her cuffs were frayed. The edges of her petticoats were worn and a little gray.

I'm happy to report that there has been a makeover. This makeover is accomplished solely by boats and hand carts. No cars are allowed. What a pleasure to wander without looking over your shoulder or waiting for a WALK sign. But it boggles the mind. The garbage is hauled off in hand carts, construction equipment is brought by boats

When we rolled off the train and headed for the vaporetto - a water taxi - I waited to see the reactions of my traveling partners to Venice. I hadn't planned to go to Venice originally five years ago. But my sweetie had not been. Venice is a place that must be seen, and be seen to believed.

She's breathtaking. Blue green waters against ochre and burnt sienna buildings. I have a dim memory of many of the water level floors of buildings flooded with water. In fact one of the biggest threats to our visit is the acqua alta or high water. The travel goddess smiles on us once again and Venice is dry as a bone. The portable walkways sit stacked and dry. These walkways are a part of winter life in Venice as are big rubber Wellington boots. Lucky us! There isn't a need.

The Pensione where I go to pick up our keys to the apartment says Pensione (Hotel) Guerrato Founded 1288 Remodeled 1955. It boggles the mind. The apartment is wonderful. Tucked away between St Mark's and the Rialto bridge it's cozy warm and quiet. It gives us a perfect base to explore both. We wander the streets till long after dark and the most remarkable thing of a trip filled with superlatives transports me. A gondolier glides past in his VSB (very sexy boat). On board he has a lucky couple and .... a guitar player, and he's making like Pavarotti. He makes like Pavarotti until well out of sight, but I can still hear him, echoing off the walls and bridges.

There are precious few things I am a sucker for. My kids, my man, yarn stores and their contents and tenors of any nationality. It's the sweetest sound you could ever hear with few exceptions.

I'm very sorry to leave Venice. The rest of the trip will have the fast forward button firmly pressed down.

Posting about Pisa - Oregon Family pushes Leaning Tower to Vertical

2007-12-02T16:16:00.000-08:00

I know I promised Venice..

How is it that I forgot about our trip to Pisa? Well I didn't I just kept thinking I would have downloaded the pictures from the trip by now. I have my pictures which are singularly boring, but the kids took some fun ones of Pisa and I wanted to take them off of their camera. In order for that to happen the camera has to be in the house and have a battery that works. For the last week it's been neither. So you will have to take my word for it.

I love the dork factor of the premise that you will go to Pisa and take a picture from a great angle which actually appears as though you have one hand on a miniaturized tower pushing it back up. We are not the only dorks to have wandered off of Dork Mountain who attempt this. As we wait to ascend the tower there is an International contingent of dorks who are in various combinations and configurations of this same photo. Kudos to the gentleman who is laying on his back using his feet.
While I steer the girls to a nice patch of sidewalk to avoid the "It is not permitted to walk on the grass" signs 40 other people stomp on this forbidden ground in search of the best shot.

I give up trying to prevent my daughters from starting an international incident and let them wander onto the green. No violations are issued.

The area immediately surrounding the tower is amazing. The word verdant had to have been invented for the grass which surrounds the Baptistry, Cathedral and Tower. Surrounding the grass is a medieval fortified wall. Aside from the Crappa Touristica carts and the hundreds of digital cameras, the place is eerily unchanged.

Once up inside the tower the level of craftsmanship is mind boggling, as is the smallness of everything. Danielle seems to pass through the archways standing straight up, the rest of us bend a little at the waist. The treads of each step are worn from the millions of feet that have climbed here. We lean first toward the center of the tower and then away as we spiral up, and up and up. At the top we are rewarded with a view of the Carrara marble fields (yep that Carrara marble) and the snow covered Apennines behind them. The view from the top the same as it was hundreds of years ago.

On the way back to the train station, I have a feeling of deja vu. The area we pass through, a colonnade with shops and restaurants is the site of a lunch almost thirty years ago on my first visit to Pisa. It's one of my sharpest memories of the previous trip, but I'm not sure why.

Next post I promise will be Venice

How do I love thee Florence, let me count the ways

2007-12-01T08:10:00.000-08:00

I think in Verona you can visit Romeo and Juliet's balcony, which is just silly. There aren't any places like that in the Centro Storico of Florence. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of places to acquire Crappa Touristica throughout Italy. It just hasn't been taken to the Disney level we experience in the US. The most heinous and simultaneously, funniest thing I saw was a pair of boxer shorts with THE David's glory parts emblazoned on the front in the colors of the Italian flag. Disney would be proud.

Florence is entirely different from Rome. If Rome is a classic Greek sculpture with a saucy wink and her skirt lifted for a peek, Florence is a Botticelli painting. Radiant, peaceful and full of the promise of life. You wouldn't guess that from the train station which is cold, grey and wildly unattractive, but the world outside is beautiful.

There is no dog poop here. If there is,it's beautiful, Floren-TINE, dog poop and as such it's not a bother. The hotel, again thanks to the internet, is cozy, well situated and just perfect. I'm wondering where the towels are in the bathroom while clutching several blanket sized waffle weave dish rags. That's when I realize those are the towels. I feel grateful not to have called down to the front desk to have towels sent up.

Then there is the small matter of the bidet. To me, it's an idea whose time has come. To teenagers it's a funny piece of plumbing that looks like a toilet and a sink. I've taken to calling it the butt washer. You can take the girl out of grade school but you can't take the grade school out of the girl. Ellie tries it and proclaims it odd, but refreshing.

We tour the sights, settle in, acclimate to the time change and I practice my toddler Italian on all. The Italian Rosetta Stone program has taught me several things and I think it pretty much has us covered. As long as it is a conversation about a horse who either is or is not eating a carrot, or if I will give discourse at great length about blue and yellow plates. For everything else there is sign language and emphatic pointing. One sweet girl begs me to speak English please - while I attempt to explain that my daughter the horse would like to eat some chocolate carrots, on a blue plate....

My other piece of language acquisition is one I plan to use as a talisman to ward off Anti-American feelings. I've learned how to say The Crazy Cowboy if anyone mentions our Fearless Leader George Bush. What we find instead is sympathy. In fact, one gentleman makes a point of telling us, look at some of the bozos we Italians have had as leaders and leaves it at that. It is the same pretty much everywhere we go. I will post the picture of the graffiti we found on the wall of a home. It's a stencil of George with devil horns with the caption below - Give me a banana - in Italian.

Actually there are two phrases I can carry off quite well "Due Cappuccini per favore, or due vini rossi! Those magical commands bring lovely, fatigue erasing, coffee or lovely, fatigue erasing, red wine. Either way we cannot miss!

Next stop Venice.

Putting the myth of Helga the Punisher to rest

2007-11-30T09:21:00.000-08:00

I know you all know me. I can be more than a teensy bit too disciplined for my own good and the well being of others. Right away, I want to put the myth of Helga the Punisher to rest. Helga is one of my alter-egos, or multiple personalities if you will. I'm betting right now you are all imagining me in my thigh high black leather boots, a Frederick's of Hollywood designed Tyrolean maiden costume, blond braids looped over my head, cigarette holder clenched between my lips cracking a bull whip over the heads of my three fellow travelers. "You vil get up and see ze sights Schnell!"

Nothing could be further from the truth, honest, just ask 'em.

In all honesty I've planned this trip as a vacation, not the Bataan death march through cultural treasures. When the Sistine chapel closes 15 minutes after we entered because the Pope wants to throw a party, I just shrug my shoulders and smile and say "it's an adventure". When the kid's lose interest for the day in the Accademia I say who can blame them. Seeing THE David in all, and I do mean ALL, of his glory, who can top that?

This is not about ticking off the treasures of Italy the way some mountaineers bag peaks. It's about food and wine, heavenly coffee and losing yourself in this foreign place too. I feel like I've fallen face first into a pile of wonderful. I don't want to get up. So I roll around in it. With abandon. We eat gelato for breakfast - ok we didn't really do that. But the food is so good, and people eat every meal like I eat at holidays...with conversation, wine and lingering. I want to cry because I'm so happy, but I'm so happy I don't want to cry. So I just smile real big inside.

Somehow I've managed to save enough money to not worry about the little details that have thwarted my other vacations. I can say yes so much it starts to feel like I mean it. Oh, do I mean it!

So we visit Botticelli, and Titian and Veronese and Michaelangelo and cathedrals to God, but we also visit cathedrals to food and living well. Plus it's sunny during the month when it's supposed to be the rainiest. I'm thinking Global warming is looking prety sweet right now. I won't recognize until I leave Italy and enter Switzerland why it's so different here. I haven't seen a single Starbucks or McDonalds in either Rome or Florence. Nobody is any the worse for wear.

At this point of the trip we are in Florence, my most favorite place in the world, with some of my most favorite people in the world. Why has it taken me 30 years to get back here?

Part 1 - Sleepwalking Zombies, a Resurrection of sorts, and Dog poop, lot's and lot's of dog poop

2007-11-29T12:40:00.001-08:00

The flight - aside from Oldest NOT sleeping - is uneventful. We pop through customs in a flash and roll out - with all luggage in our hands - to meet our taxi. I've traveled for business many a time, but I've never been met at the airport by a tiny placard bearing my name. I've always thought that was so cool, and indeed it was.

Our taxi driver speaks decent English in a way I will come to know quite well over the next few weeks. You can hear the translator wheels turning as he speaks with his adorable Italian accent. I've been learning Italian on the side for months now, but I'm too shy and tired to give it a try.

We are delivered to the hotel and they allow us to check in a bit early and take breakfast in the dining room. I couldn't ask for better because they have eggs in addition to about a million other tasty things I wouldn't expect. After a shower I attempt to rouse everyone to head out for the Roman Forum and Colosseum. Houston, we have a problem. Danielle has become the walking dead.

I'm of the school that jet lag is to be met head on. You adopt the time zone rhythms as soon as you arrive substituting your old ones immediately. This is great in theory except for the zombie part. I put Oldest down for a short nap. She whimpers in protest when I wake her, but it's for her own good, RIGHT?

We head out to see the sights dragging a zombie along for the ride. Here is where the resurrection part arrives. In addition to the stresses of the day before, I've been in near constant contact with Marc who has contracted the Martian Death Flu and really shouldn't travel. Thanks to sheer force of will and a pharmaceutical bill the size of the GNP of a medium sized developed country Marc has resurrected from the dead. His head did not explode when the cabin pressurized and he's actually looking sort of spry. This is an illusion fueled by the most excellent and plentiful cappuccino taken at breakfast.

Pressing on slowly we sign up for a tour of the Colosseum that is recruited when we arrive looking wilted and clueless. There are several young people who act as scavengers for the main act - a seriously funny Italian man who proceeds to make us laugh for an hour about the goings on at the Colosseum before it became a historic site. The stories are brutal and resemble current day American life in ways that make me uncomfortable to contemplate.

I am - in fact - the only one of the four of us who remembers anything about the tour or the day. The rest of the group insists that they saw nothing and went nowhere because they were sleeping.

The next day - and this is where the dog poop comes in - we head out after breakfast for an 11:00 am tour of the Vatican with Sophie our Irish tour guide. We make our way along narrow streets that seem to be filled with dog poop and itty, bitty little cars. There isn't much room for people on these streets. There is plenty of dog poop that has had a passing acquaintance with a shoe. This is not the easiest way to begin a day and we are thrilled to arrive at the Vatican in time, without additional show decoration. The tour is very informative. The kids magically (no, it's really the magic cappuccinos) now on the new time zone are enjoying themselves. We do a little retail therapy for them. Each of them come away with jacket what has that European flair. Neither of them takes the jacket off again except to shower.

They fall head over heels in love with Italy. My master plan is working.....

Roma - it's not just a Tomato anymore

2007-11-28T12:37:00.000-08:00

OK, so I'm going to try and describe our trip in detail over the next few weeks as things gel in my mind.

Our first night of the trip was spent at the Chicago Double Tree Inn, where we sit toothbrush-less because our luggage is in transit over Boise, Idaho. And here is why. It took us 5 freaking hours to drive to Seattle because some one decided that the first, portentous day of our trip they needed to drop a load of enormous plastic pipes on the only stretch of road between Portland and Seattle. The one, the only, legendary I-5.

Prior to that we had fairly flown up the highway. We stopped in Olympia to enjoy a Starbuck's interlude in their own Starbucky backyard. Then it all comes to a creeping, crawling halt. They are predicting doom and gloom on the radio - it will take hours to open the road. I am laying a green brick on the seat of the car. My trip, my trip! I've planned and saved for years. Waahhhhh.

As we creep and crawl along it's clear that things are moving better than expected. Within an hour we pop out the other side and continue our mad dash for SeaTac airport. We drop the rental car and head for the American desk where we check in and the boarding time shows as 2 hours later than the original flight departure time.

OK, just breathe.

Lucky for us, Mr American Airlines rebooks us pronto on a flight leaving in 45 minutes. We check our bags and run for security and some how manage to scoot onto the plane before the doors close. Frankly, I am amazed. I had planned on rolling into Chicago, eating something at the airport, cruising to the hotel luggage in tow and crashing early. Big doings the next day you know.

When we arrive and head to baggage claim lo and behold only one of our bags made it. Oldest girl has nothing, and all of our toiletries are packed into, what I am lovingly calling the sarcophagus, and checked. No toothbrush, no wonderful moisturizer which lets me look my 50 years after applying, not the 95 I appear when I get off the plane. The sarcophagus - narrowly missing the 50 pound limit - is a rolling duffel the size and shape of Tut's final resting place, but not so pretty.

I am not a happy camper. I am also thinking that if this is the direction the trip is headed I am in deep yogurt. I am told I can come back and get the luggage or have it delivered within 24 hours. Uh, I am not going to BE here for 24 hours so scratch that. I opt to ride the shuttle back and grab the luggage when the flight arrives. Imagine the suspense as my luggage is literally the last stuff to come off. But it does come out. I roll back to the hotel with the sarcophagus and Oldest daughter's luggage. Victorious!

I go to bed after transforming myself back into a 50 year old with moisturizer. The alarm goes off early the next morning. The wretched spirit which had hovered over us for that first day evaporates. The trip begins in earnest.

If it's Monday it must be Portland

2007-11-26T13:23:00.000-08:00

We did it! Flew to Italy, made like the Italians and flew back all in one piece. It was even better than I could have hoped for. The food, fabulous, the accommodations, fabulous, the sight seeing, fabulous!

The time of my life, spent with my most favorite people. I'm so thankful to have had the opportunity to have these two weeks with my kids who are soon to fly the nest.

I'll never forget it.

The rest before the push

2007-11-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

I'm delighted to say the weekend was productive. While I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked, I was relaxed and happy. I cleaned and shopped and knit and cooked. All my favorite things to do. There was enough time to do everything. I have completed the to-do items on my list so now it's just down to writing down the items I need to throw into my bag when the time comes.

I finished the sleeves to the Lovely Lady Oriel. Blocked them too. Started the scarf and found I don't have enough yarn to do what I want to do. So I'm swatching on the fly and thinking I'm going to switch to size 17 needles. The two strand garter stitch I am using is too hard and thick to be a wrappable scarf. If I alternate the smooth yarn and the Lumpy Bumpy in stockinette it's too soft. Trying garter with just the lumpy bumpy is leaving too little yarn to make a scarf. So I'll swatch with 17 inch needles to see if the extra space makes it softer and more wrappable, plus using less yarn and allowing me to make a scarf of length.

This was supposed to be an easy project so I could have a hat for the trip. HAHA. The best laid plans of mice and men.

Fibroadenoma whatis?

2007-11-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

It's the best news ever. I have benign fibroadenosis and an intraductal papilloma. Both of which are benign growths. The doctor asked me to follow up with a surgeon when I return from Italy to discuss removing the papilloma. But I've got time to do that later. When I return from living my one wild and precious life.

So anyway it's less than a week till we leave and I've got a ton to do, but I'm up to the task, and so is my poor eggplant breast - so named for the bruising which I may see in my future.

A funny thing happened on the way to the mammogram

2007-11-01T14:11:00.000-07:00

So I've had a funny lump in my right breast. Nothing detected by my mammogram in May. But it was still in the back of my mind. Why the heck is that THERE. So I scheduled another mammogram and that was today.

I thought it was going to be like other mammograms I've had. In the door, wham bam, thanks for letting me smash your boob, see ya in a year.

Not this time.

This time I got an ultra sound, and a biopsy. Something called Intraductal Papilloma. So I'm going to have biopsy results come back next week. I hope to have great news and all signs point that way. Living and breathing till then...

So is it a mid life crisis?

2007-10-30T11:39:00.000-07:00

I'm pondering the nature of my universe, or my blog, more specifically. When I first started this project, I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. Now it just comes out, either good or bad. So I'm not feeling particularly like I'm in crisis, or that it has anything to do with turning 50.

So do I change the name of my blog? I'm not spending as much time here, so do I pack in in and delete the blog and start another? That would be a shame because this is the sole resting place of my thoughts, some new and some old that have been copied in or "recycled" as it were.

50 has been a non-issue, other than the fact that physically I notice I'm a little slower and less resilient. Not seriously degraded, but I just don't have the work till I drop and not pay a price the next day. Now working till I drop guarantees that I will at the very least ache all over for the next day or two, or be exhausted the next day. I can get around that by cultivating well placed breathing spaces in the day, but they aren't a convenience any longer. They are a necessity.

Knitting away on the Oriel Lace blouse and I'm almost done with the sleeves. I knit them at the same time to avoid the dreaded SSS or second sleeve syndrome. Next is to start the back so I only have the one pair of needles to carry. Yes carry, as in my luggage - to Italy! Only 10 more days till we leave.

I've got to get the itinerary out!!

Pretty Monopoly Money

2007-10-26T15:59:00.000-07:00

I'm amazed at how picture perfect the Euro is. While our greenbacks have a certain pedestrian comfort in their sameness, the Euro is flashy. Filled with line drawings of spectacular architectural elements and brightly colored to boot. The different denominations are sized according to worth. Those damn Europeans have a logical means of measuring and weighing AND some very cute and logical moolah.

Slowly finding my way through the list of things. Made a dent last night and found an "epilator" at Freddie's which is not too pricey. I think I'll invest, considering that a leg waxing will easily cost more than the epilator for both - even at the beauty school.

Nothing concrete for the weekend. Kids go off to a game tonight and I'm happy to sit in front of the TV and knit tonight.

My big news is that someone wanted to use my picture of a finished piece of knitting I had done on Ravelry. The cables and lace scarf! I of course said yes, because it tickled me pink that it was worthy of use. Despite the fact that it's usage is most likely due to no one else having a picture. Still there are several people who are knitting the scarf - it's a free pattern after all. So maybe I'll make some new friends on Ravelry. I have to admit the idea is a little daunting. I'm so bad at making friends.

About two weeks to go

2007-10-24T15:08:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how fast the days are going now. Tomorrow is two weeks till we leave and I still have many things to looks into before we go. I could travel without doing any of them, but it will make life easier if I do.

But all I feel like doing is cooking and knitting. Sigh!

I made some headway on the sleeves for the Lovely Lady Oriel, but unfortunately it was in the wrong direction. I had miscued on the pattern and repeated the same area twice instead of incrementing. It had to be slooowwwly backed out stitch by stitch because I've ripped the lady before and it took me longer to figure out where I was and work again than it did to unknit it. I need to finish these sleeves so I can begin the back, not so many needle changes there. I want to travel fairly light in Italy.

So I've decided a few things - boarding the bird instead of having Kristin keep her. It's just too much for her (the bird not Kristin) since she's been sickly. And I'm feeding her fresh food twice a day to try and build up her Vitamin A stores in addition to giving her the thyroid tablets.

I'm not as nervous about going away because I'm not leaving the kids behind this time. If anything befalls them it's likely to befall me as well because we will be together. Potential disasters surrounding the rest of my stuff is manageable. I'm insured, though I hope not to need it.

So compression stockings, hair removers for my legs (my Epilady died a few months ago and shaving is not making me happy!!!) waterproofer for my shoes and I need to buy some Euros.

Still manageable, but the weekend will be busy.

The fastest weekend in the West

2007-10-15T10:54:00.001-07:00

So let me tell you about cooking. I decided to start prepping my children for the Italy trip (T-Minus 26 days and counting) by cooking some items from the Rome and Florence cookbooks I have received as gifts. My sister had sent along a goodie box full of Italian items from . Polenta, pasta, fregole (Sardinia cous cous) tomatoes, yummy stuff!

So the first night I found a recipe for Fregole with pancetta and pecorino. I also used the Roasted chicken with lemon from the Williams Sonoma cookbook. It called for roasting the chicken stuffed with lemons and then using the roasted chicken drippings and juice of the roasted lemons to make a sauce.

I think my daughter put it best. It was a huge flavor explosion. The meal was rich so we ate slowly and took small amounts. That was Saturday.

Sunday we ended up with no dinner plans and I had a hankering to make a marinara sauce I'd seen on America's Test Kitchen. So I did. Let me tell you that was the best sauce I have ever made. Think, rich and fast by comparison to others I've made. Those guys (America's Test Kitchen)do all the anal retentive stuff for me that I don't have time to do. The pasta from Italy is so different and cooks up so rich and plump and succulent. It's hard to describe.

So the weekend was a rousing success for cooking. No knitting to speak of, I worked on my Italian a little more. Restful, but not nearly restful enough. Sweetie Man flies home tomorrow and I'm going to make the best of the next few weekends to get my diet and exercise in order and spend more time sleeping. Sometimes it's a hard adjustment for fall and winter weather. My winter body is stubborn about working. Kind of like the old cranked cars. You have to try several times to get them started.

On the Mend - The end of braces as we know them

2007-10-11T14:24:00.000-07:00

For the most part - aside from the extended 4 hour interlude of nose blowing and hacking ans spitting I'm better. That interlude happens about 40 minutes after I get up and continues through my drive to work and the first couple of hours of work. It's loud, and uncomfortable. And decidedly gross.

The oldest of my progeny has gotten her braces off. Her smile is so beautiful and perfect. The difference between before and after is startling. There is no way to understand that her teeth didn't look bad before. They were very straight, but her bite was ever so slightly off. But not anymore. Now if I could just be done with paying for them - the braces that is. The kids I'll never be done with paying for ;-)

The lovely Lady Oriel is proceeding along. I've knit maybe a fourth of the sleeves. The shaping is done with the needle sizes, not increasing and decreasing. New world for me.

I've been reading several of my favorite blogs lately. The theme seems to be finishing and also ripping out things that weren't quite right. I've especially enjoyed reading the Yarn Harlot's blog where she describes not being able to knit anything in a straight line. It's always knit and rip and knit and rip. She said it was also when she was bone tired at night that it went this way. Well all I can say is Thank God I'm not the only one and if it happens to the Harlot, who am I to think it won't happen to me? Hmmmm

Well I'm out of here for now.

The Whole Stinkin Crew is Sick

2007-10-04T12:35:00.000-07:00

Even the bird, who is sitting at the Veterinarian's office now. Marc went back to bed for a nap this morning. I had two back to back meetings and then off I went to drop off the bird and head into the office. While my nose gently drips - I can hear George Harrison twirling in his grave.

Being sick is tiresome. I hate how it takes me out of myself and my life. I don't feel like I want to spare that time, but I'm guessing it's Mother Nature's way of telling me that something is not quite right. And it hasn't been. I've been moody and snappish on account of petty resentments and not so petty worries that weigh on me. I'm continuing to improve my ability to handle these little storms, so this one took me by surprise. I didn't hear back from the hotel in Florence or the tour company in Rome and I let it get to me. The bird being ill also stresses me out. I don't want her to be a deceased parakeet, but I also do not want to spend hundreds of dollars getting her back to health like last time.

Long story short, the tour company got fired and I moved onto another more responsive one, the hotel finally responded, with Uffizi and Accademia reservations as requested, and the train tickets from Milan to Zurich can wait until we arrive in Milan.

Now if the bird would only be so easy.

Here is a pretty picture of my WIP

Officially Sick

2007-10-03T14:57:00.000-07:00

Although I worked almost a full day I am really not feeling well. To help me feel better my Sweetie bought me a magnifying lamp. One of those things which should help me to be able to work without my glass and to take the guess work out of some of my fine handiwork.

I was able to get my WIP, FO's and stash into Ravelry last night, with pictures even! It's fun. And with the magnifier I can think of other projects which I could accomplish now, since I can see the fine handiwork with it. But not today.

Right now, I'm in bed with my jammies on eating soup and drinking tea to get my throat to hurt less. I need a nap in the worst way. Like maybe now...

Down, Dirty and Disheveled

2007-10-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a little under the weather, and annoyed. I cooked like a fool on Sunday but didn't get to knit. I knitted on Saturday but didn't cook. I'm out of sorts and touchy. It's fall coming on in all of it's unkempt, windblown chilliness. Despite all of the preparations I made to ease myself into Fall, it's as if I were entering a cold swimming pool on a cool, windy day. Immersing myself an inch at a time, alternating holding my breath, wincing and hyperventilating. I'm a major wuss when it comes to cold.

Don't get me started on the dark.

Add a sick parakeet into the mix and I'm ready to pack it in. Winter isn't even here yet.

Allow me to avert my gaze from my navel for a moment and focus on the world outside. Oh, look! People are going on living their lives having fun. I wonder if I can do that too. Let's see, I'm heading to Europe next month for two weeks. I'm healthy and strong, my kids are well. I think I'm just going to have to suck it up.

Got my Ravelry invite yesterday. Signed in and started entering projects. I don't know if this is another place for me to torture myself at not being good enough, but I'm game to try it, and it links to my blog - how very nice!

Friday again, thank GOD!

2007-09-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

I've been a bad, bad blogger. Not keeping up my end of the blogosphere for sure. But I have managed to finish up the front of the Oriel Lace blouse. WHOO HOO! A big three cheers for me. I will begin the sleeves as soon as humanly possible. I intend to knit them at the same time on a pair of circular needles. This will allow me to control what I do row by row, since I think sleeves and socks can suffer from the same thing - second sleeve dilemma.

I'm well and truly tired today. Been tying up the loose ends for the trip to Italy. W ehave hotels for everything but Milan. I need to book tours, but am not hearing back from the tour company in Rome. One more thing I am concerned about is the ticket between Milan and Zurich, but I think Darling Boy will find out some info for us from his friend who lives in Milan.

Off to a great weekend. Hope you all enjoy the same.

I'm soooooo TWISTED

2007-09-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

I've been busy this weekend. In fact I need a weekend to recover from my weekend. It was a blur of cooking, eating said cooking and knitting at Twisted. Can I tell you.... I loooove this place. It's cute, and fun and has lovely yarn in it - yeah duh it's a yarn store. Theyhad tables where people were knitting, visiting and sipping tea. It's a knitter's paradise I tell ya.

The fun part was a class I took in Fair Isle knitting. I now know the difference between Continental and American knitting and why they call it "throwing yarn". Why did I not know this before. Continental is so much easier.

So anyway. I'm knitting along in class and I turn over my work to see this most amazing thing - nice, flat, even little strands of yarn on the wrong side of my work. Truly a lovely sight to behold. All three of us in the class making like knitting super stars.

I will definitely be back to this knitting mecca. I'd like to choose more yarn to make a fair isle sweater or two or three.

The lovely lady Oriel

2007-09-13T14:40:00.001-07:00

So I have a wonderful new hair cut that I love and the Oriel Lace blouse is coming along nicely. I'm hoping to get the front finished this weekend and begin work on the back. I would love to say I will have this done for Italy, but I'm not sure I can pull it off so quickly. But maybe.....

I went ahead and ordered the lovely Born riding boots - but the only color they had in my size was black. So black it is. I wanted dark brown, but if black is all they have. Black is what I'll get. It helped that I had a 20 dollars off coupon from another purchase I made.

Plans for Italy continue apace. More on that later.

Sad State of Affairs

2007-09-11T11:27:00.001-07:00

I'm having trouble processing the news that my friend, who gave notice today, is leaving. I've been open to a lot more emotion recently than I used to be. Trying to keep myself connected to people instead of withdrawing. It hurts, kinds alot. I think it's healthy, but it's also hard. Especially when I am hormonal and feeling unworthy and lost. I do feel lost and unworthy. That's the worst and hardest part.

I'm not sure how to recover from this. I don't know if this is post 50 let down, or what, but it isn't fun. For now I am gooing to just sit with the feelings and hopefully the way out is through.

My First Comment

2007-09-07T14:49:00.001-07:00

And it's from a stinking spammer. Funny how I've taken such great pains to be hidden and mysterious with this blog, and when I see a comment I'm all excited. Ooooh, somebody is reading my stuff. Oh well. Back to obscurity just the way I like it.

I've continued well along on the Oriel lace blouse. Knitting the pattern with decreases wasn't as tricky as I thought it would be. I found myself arriving at the appointed row 20 with the correct number of stitches for the first half of the waist shaping. I have to say this was knitting on faith at it's finest. Still it amazes me how far I have come in learning to read charts and "Knit on with confidence and hope, through all crises". I found I was missing a stitch today, I identified the culprit and added a stitch. Voila, no more stitch counts being wonky.

This weekend is going to be fun. The lineup is vegging tonight. Belly Dance Class tomorrow, shopping at Washington Square with birthday gift card loot, massage and workout at my favorite club on Sunday (again birthday loot!) I can't wait!!!!

First Post 50 Post

2007-09-07T14:48:00.001-07:00

Is that using post too many times? So the big day has come and gone and I'm still happy with life. I had a wonderful time this past 4 day weekend. We went to Hood River (a beautiful town and I didn't take any stinkin' pictures). Worked on the house, on my birthday! It's OK I wanted to. I painted the porch rails with sealant/stain and Marc installed a butcher block countertop. Beautiful! On Sunday we went off to the coast and hung out in beautiful and crowded Cannon Beach.

Made a stop at Knot Another Hat in Hood River - yummy yarn, but all I took away were some knitting needles. Also made a stop at Coastal Yarn. Since I am butt deep in the Oriel Lace blouse I just quietly lusted and went on my way.

I've got this little sparkler to show off as well.

Knitting is a form of Obssesive Compulsive Disorder

2007-08-30T15:10:00.000-07:00

True! I am obsessed with the Oriel Lace Blouse. It took me awhile to get rolling. It's still a little bit of a crunch to get my brain wrapped around some of the chart. For the most part though, I'm good.

Got to work today and "some people" had decorated my cubicle for me. Black streamers, balloons, a card. CAKE even! It was awesome fun to get to be the birthday girl. It makes turning 50 almost painless. Almost!

Life is short, eat dessert first!

2007-08-29T11:21:00.000-07:00

Hello, it's been awhile since I've posted. Who am I talking to? Myself. No one visits my blog and I love it that way! I've been fully in pursuit of the 4 essential practices for a happy life post 50. Do things that scare you, might make you stay up too late, might make you gain weight and, um... and. Yeah, getting old sucks. I found the post. There are only 3 essential practices. Quick make something up!

Any way I've done some scary stuff and some fattening stuff and some staying up late stuff and I'm still here. Funny thing! I'm still here, not as tired or fat as I thought I'd be.

Socks are done! I finished them at the North West Strings Summit. Tucked their little threads in at home. Wore them around the house. They are so cool. I may not ever wear them outside the house, but I think they will work for those days when slippers are not feasible (couch knitting days).

I cast on for the Oriel lace blouse swatch. I am not using the same yarn because the pricing was just silly. I found a similar weight alpaca/ silk yarn that was not a ribbon yarn. The swatch knit up beautifully but I am slightly off on the gauge. I did block it and it improved some. But still I think I am OK to begin. I'm going to knit up the front and then block and see how it looks on me. Then I'll try one sleeve provided it fits properly. The pattern is super easy. Nothing like the lace jacket I knit a few years ago.

Pictures still await I know, but my Sweetie's shorts needed a button put on and I had this TIME to actually swatch something. Pictures will come soon.

Adventuring I will go

2007-08-24T15:31:00.000-07:00

In another (perhaps lame) attempt at stretching myself in honor of my 50th I am going to a weekend long Blue Grass music concert. The Northwest String Summit. Why would I subject myself to this you might ask? Well mostly because my sweetie plays the mandolin. I'm excited to go, but also dreading it. I don't sit for long periods of time and do nothing very often. It makes me really, really nervous to do that. For one I think of all the things I could be doing - like scrubbing the grout or folding laundry. Well funny thing but I've done all that already. The house is clean and will be fine for a few days. I also seem to have a fear of staying up too late. For some people, like my sweetie, that seems to be the whole point of life. Even my kids thinks it's great to stay up late. I must not have that gene. I think they got it from their Dad.

So I'm going to take some knitting. So I can finish my sock and perhaps cast on for the Oriel Lace Blouse.

Tick Tock, TICK TOCK!

2007-08-23T09:25:00.000-07:00

I hear it louder and louder now. Seems like I might not have ever gotten here, but I did. It's almost my 50th. I'm excited and scared. I'm more than half way through my life, I'm pretty sure of that. I am glad I challenged myself to try some new things. It's made me happy to do that, a little scared and uncomfortable at times, but happy.

Working away on the sock hoping to get to the sweater soon. I want to post pictures, I know I've been promising that for a while. Sigh! The thing about doing scary and uncomfortable things is that it leaves so little time for the rest of life. Things like laundry and cleaning up.

So I'm a lot happier than I was at 20, 30 or 40. 50 ish has been good to me. I miss my youthful looks, but 8 weeks of Efudex and several weeks of Tretinoin has worked a certain magic on my face. I look my age but I don't look old, old, old. That's a good thing.

I'm sooooo tired

2007-08-21T14:15:00.000-07:00

My daughter gave me a pillow with the following on the front of it.

I am Woman, I am Strong, I am sooo tired and really that just says it all for me. I don't know how people do so many extra things. I do everything to try and boost my energy. I work out, I eat right, I try to sleep long enough. I take my vitamins. But still I feel like I can't keep up with my sweetie or my kids. It's pathetic. Long before we are done with the day I am fully baked. Stick a fork in me.

Not sure how I am going to get beyond that, or get them to accept that I can't fold the laundry and clean up the dishes and water all the plants and clean the house in my spare time and still keep up. It's too exhausting.

Plus I want time to knit. I love to knit. My second sock is almost done. I'm so proud of myself that I have finished the project which I abandoned over a year ago. Maybe there is hope for me yet. Once that sock is done I am off to work on the Oriel Lace Blouse from the Summer 2007 Knits magazine. I'm both scared and excited at the same time. It will be a handful for sure.

I need to post some pictures of work I have done. It's exciting because I've finished a few simple projects this year. Way to go woman!

Just cuz you are crayzee, don't expect me to come along for the ride

2007-08-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

I used to be certifiable. Really. CWAAAAAZEE. Obsessive Compulsive, bulemic, anorexic. Name it. I was it. After 10's of thousands of dollars in therapy I sometimes approximate sanity quite closely. I cultivate an air of serenity like some folks grow tomatoes in less than optimal conditions. Some who knew me way back when are thrilled with my progress. Some who know me know, but not then aren't sure they see anything really wrong with me. They just haven't poked far enough into the muck, and frankly they don't need to. Polite conversation is enough.

I hide this side of myself more than I used to. Once upon a time many years ago I would flaunt my craziness. I wore a big diamond crazy tiara and paraded around town with my cart full of sad, sad stories of lost love and child abuse. I pushed many a shopping cart full of woe is me tales and detritus I picked up from every slight. I was a connoisseur of beaten down inner child, nobody loves me, my mother is a witch stories.

So I'm going along my orderly row of sanity. Pulling a weed of anxiety here, knocking some guilt off of the leaves there. I pour a little water on thirsty thoughts and dreams of creating lovely things. And then I fall in love. And my beloved, we'll he's kinda, well, he's a nutter.

A lovable nutter to be certain. Full of love and passion and a hefty dose of himself. Never had kids. This makes for an interesting interaction when he's particularly nuts. It's painful, honestly, because I can't help him peek out over the edge of the hole he's in. And I've been down in that hole peeping out and I know it hurts. I PRETEND like I'm sane enough that I actually believe it. I pass for sane. I try to be a good support system, but sometimes the noises in the dark scary place are for me, not just for him.

Stay tuned

My Beautiful Children

2007-08-15T11:53:00.001-07:00

I can't say it enough. My children saved my life. Not any plainer I can put it than that. They saved me from myself and I'll always be grateful to them. I was feeling a little low last night. They were so wonderful and supportive of me. We got to hang out until the house cooled down and the air conditioner could be turned off because it was cooler outside than in. I just like hanging out with them.

And they are so beautiful.

If I Catch the Rat Bastard

2007-08-14T16:07:00.000-07:00

Life is still good, but somebody has been using my credit card number for purchases that I didn't make. I think this happened at Costco, but I can't prove it. To make a short story long, I called Overstock.com to have the charges reversed (over 400.00) and then called American Express to begin a fraud claim and have my card re-issued.

It's a good thing that I am usually cautious about my credit purchases and that I track my purchases and bank accounts online. It might have been weeks and lots of other purchases otherwise.

I don't understand the people who pull this shit. Where do they think they get off doing this. No one is going to use my hard earned credit without my permission. Well actually they did and do.

I'm not letting my credit card out of my sight again. Even when I pay for gas at Costco. I'm going to get out of the car and swipe it myself.

Sucks. A lot.

Life is Good

2007-08-13T14:54:00.000-07:00

I can't help but say it. Life is good. I got to do some massaging and some knitting and some cleaning and some cooking and some organizing. All of these things are things I loooooove to do. I got to eat the yummy stuff I made, got myself a bunch of CEUs so I can re-license as a therapist, got a good start on the second sock AND organized myself down to my last moving box. My mortgage papers all have a place to live and so do my knitting, weaving and spinning magazines.

I'm about where I was before the Wal-Mart debacle. Time on my hands and looking to fill it. I'm going to stray from the path this time and head back into what I love instead of searching out something new (like belly dancing). I'm going to crack open those water color pencils and paper and draw me some stuff. Knit till I don't want to knit anymore. Maybe get the old spinning wheel out. In a word or two - Indulge myself.

Next stop is the recipe storage. I just want to go one place to grab them, and I aim high to make myself one.

Wrapping up on Friday

2007-08-10T12:08:00.000-07:00

Payday too. I will be attending a Myofascial Release Basics class on Saturday, all day. That will allow me to renew my Massage License for two more years. I have to start plotting my next course to take.

Things have been lovely at home. Everyone settled in. I was able to make a simple dinner, clean up, water the yard and knit. Since progeny #1 can drive I have all this time to get "the other stuff" done at night. Checkbook balancing, cooking, laundry. For the first time in months it doesn't feel rushed. I have helpers to walk the dog and wash the bird cage. I could get used to this.

Finished the last of the Efudex on my chest Wednesday night. Technically I think I should have applied twice on Thursday but I just decided I'd had enough. The spot on my eye peeled off and I'm still peeling. The rest of my skin is - dare I say it - wonderful. I look my age but I don't look old. While my face still sags a slight bit - and I'm OK with that - I no longer have crosshatched crows feet extending out from my eyes onto the tops of my cheeks. My face has lines but the skin is tight. Like I'd slept well for the last 15 years. It doesn't have a pulled tight quality as much as it has a filled in quality when compared to before. The color is rosy, not sallow, and the brown spots have faded in most places to nothing. The redness from the Efudex is almost gone. It's truly a miracle.

I also finished my sock. It's lovely.

My Little Fam is back under one roof

2007-08-08T10:28:00.000-07:00

So I picked the progeny up early yesterday. They got to fly 1st class from Honoruru on account of them being unaccompanied minors. Northwest sets their lower limit at 15, so the youngest couldn't travel unaccompanied even though oldest sibling is 16. They require an escort to be 18.

It was not good news and delayed them a day on the way out, but they were fine on the way back and 1st class is awesome for a red-eye that long.

Immediately upon arriving the oldest went to the orthodontist and was told the braces don't come off till October. Hysterical crying and whining ensued. I feel overwhelmed by the lack of perspective ( OK, I'm delusional here, we are talking about a 16 year old). After much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth - just like a Wild Thing - we settle in to watch a movie after getting some tasty Schmizza Pizza.

It made me tired already. I hope this isn't the tone of things to come. I'm not sure I can bear it.

A Busy Little Bee

2007-08-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

That was me, buzzing around the house. I'm my happiest there. I got the cars cleaned up - vacuumed out, wiped down. Swept out the garage, steam cleaned the baseboards in the house. Made pesto from the last weeks basil which had sprouted (oh that's why it hasn't wilted). Found a replacement hanging basket for the Fredie's basket which crapped out last week. It was on sale for cheap so I also picked up another Mint Frost Heuchera. I'm going to put it into the spot where I moved the green and white hosta that was baked to a crackly crunch in the afternoon sun.

I finished turning the heel on the "SOCK". Actually I turned it twice. I ripped out the first try because it was butt ugly. I turned the second one on the MAX train out to the workshop. HIPS with Yasmine. She was a wonderful teacher and dancer. I was able to keep up without getting frustrated which was a real change for me. Usually I get upset with myself and then all is lost. That wasn't the case Saturday. This was a revelation. I didn't have to be perfect.

So a great weekend all in all. But the really big news is I GET MY KIDS BACK TOMORROW. They are flying on the red eye tonight. I'm so relieved. I'm going to give them a huge hug, drive them home and let them rest. I want to hang out with them, but I have work to do. if only there was someway to get paid for sewing, knitting, reading and gardening.

I Could Get Used to This

2007-08-03T10:58:00.000-07:00

The Lake House rates a B+ from me for Keanu kisses. I had the plot figured out early on but I didn't care. I knit myself silly and then took the dog for a walk. Life is good. So I am adding one thing to my list of criteria for my birthday month. The truly madly deeply part will also apply to things that scare the crap outta me.

The belly dance class I attend on a semi-regular basis is pre-empted tomorrow due to Tribal Quest Northwest. So instead of sighing heavily, dropping my head, turning around and walking away from the door looking like I'd lost my best friend, I did the unexpected. I signed up for a workshop. HIPS with Yasmine.

So what am I scared of? That I'll be the suckiest in class. That I won't be able to follow? Taht people will laugh. That I will waste my money? All of those things are a possibility, but who cares. It's my money and I'm a grownup. I can do as I please.

So if it's fattening, makes me stay up too late cuz it's fun or it's something I always wanted to do but was too scared - bring it on!

Peach Cobbler and the Meaning of Life

2007-08-02T16:10:00.001-07:00

So I've decided to do one thing each day - ok at least one thing each day - that I really, really truly, deeply, madly want to do. No excuses for whether it makes me a) stay up too late or b) gain weight.

Last night was baking peach cobbler and staying up past my bedtime to knit (and allow the house to cool down enough to open the windows). I have to say it felt pretty darn great. Except when the alarm went off this morning. I was sleeping very, very deeply. So deeply that in my dream I heard the alarm racket and my dream hands were holding a dream gadget that required I turn off the racket. Except it wasn't a dream gadget, it was the clock and all of the dream gadget tinkering I was doing was not having any effect on the racket.

In essence, I laughed myself awake.

Tonight I'm going to watch The Lake House. I've been told it's pretty sucky in some ways but that Sandra and Keanu together again is pretty wonderful. I'm going to knit some more, and have a smoothie for dinner because it sounds good and it's easy.

Nyah, nyah nyah!