TrickyTricot

That's right, we'll mend...

August, late-August, where-in-the-world-did-you-go-August. It's been cool - during the day, it's cool and sunny and not too humid, and at night cooler - near cold.  Last night, the fire alarm went off at 2am and I was standing outside for 20 minutes while they tried to figure out how to shut if off (faulty smoke head or somethin somethin - why it's not faulty at 2pm in the afternoon, I'll never know), and it was so cool - 65 degrees - that I near tossed it, I was shivering! The cool clean air reminded me of Venice - and how we often woke early early in the morning, like 4am, to catch busses to exciting places and so on. They say rain tomorrow and Thursday - I see her, Fay, making her way up through Virginia and I'm happy for cool and wet weather for a bit.

Thanks to all who read and posted / emailed their thoughts my way... it has been a very a-typical few weeks for me.  The short of it is, after my appendix came out, they put staples in the wound - to help close the skin.  Well, my skin had other ideas - like trying to grow into the staples, so those had to come out, and were replaced by these "Steri-strips", which had an adhesive which further irritated the skin, and have been replaced by the foolproof and mostly icky process of cleaning and dressing the wound twice a day.  It goes something like this, now: *remove clothing, remove binder (yup, I have to wear a fashionable white polyester girdle), remove tape and surgical pad (and screech in terror at how painful it is to tape and retape abdominal skin), remove gauze pads, pull wet (now dry) gauze from wound, get in shower, rinse and clean wound, get out of shower, dry, put new wet gauze in the wound, put new dry gauze on top of the wet gauze, tape new surgical pad to gauze, lie on bed for a few minutes thinking and relishing that it's now over (for now), reattach binder, re-dress, walk around all day; rep from * to end.  Icky, I know - I keep telling people that I feel a little like Alice in that Tom Petty video where I'm made of cake and everyone's eating me - ie, when I look down and see this gaping hole in my abdomen.  (Note: the process wasn't always so civilized - the first few nights it went something like: *remove clothing, shed tears of fear and discomfort, remove binder, shed tears of fear and discomfort, remove tape and surgical pad, shed tears of fear and discomfort, remove gauze pads, shed tears of fear and discomfort, pull wet (now dry) gauze from wound, shed tears of fear and discomfort to the point of crying like a little girl, and so on).  It's the first moment in my life, really, where I've felt that maybe I couldn't be perpetually single - that having someone here, even just to hold my hand, would have made a huge difference.

With all that said, I have been very blessed in this entire thing (and I use the word "bless" sparingly otherwise, in everyday language). Friends have rallied to walk with me (to build strength), work delivered bags of groceries, family came down to stay with me, friends have picked me up at the hospital, friends have sent emails of support, work has been very flexible with leave (don't get me going here, even if I had not taken a sick day for 13 months, I wouldn't have had enough time to carry me - but, for the most part, mainly the people that matter and sign off on stuff, have been very helpful and understanding), and on and on. Even today, when I opened the $35,000 hospital bill and saw how little I had to pay out of pocket (a couple hundred bucks), I told myself how incredibly blessed I was - to be still alive, and to have had it get here the way it has.

Truly, I look back on the experience and can't believe it.  I can barely remember being in the emergency room, having the catscan, and talking to the doctors.  I can barely remember waking up in the hospital post surgery, talking to the nurses, or craning my head to watch that TV.  There are moments I remember more clearly - coming to my room and asking the nurses to raise all the blinds (and open the windows, which they couldn't and wouldn't do), walking up and down the halls of the hospital to strengthen my body, being discharged, and so on - but overall, it's like it was all a very manageable dream.  It's been great to have so much great support from everyone - a real wonderful moment.

Life's good - I'm at work this week, working mostly full days, and eating whatever I want (like veggie chili, brown rice, and a brownie I had for lunch today). I'm finding that extra protein in my diet - protein powder in a morning shake, beans and nuts in the afternoon, do a lot of good to manage my energy levels successfully - all good.

I've been knitting only slightly - working on a scarf that's long overdue (and cold weather is coming). 

Anyway, I have a wee bit of editing to do before bed and an article due pretty shortly in September, but wanted to send a mass update out.  Greener pastures are on their way, more to report when I can and am able.  Meanwhile, apples are almost at the farm-stands! Yum!

Corporeal Inventory: Appendix (0)

Sunday afternoon, it's hot outside and nice in the shade.  Walking anywhere right now is so exhausting, but I am so incredibly glad to know that it's warm and sunny outside rather than 20 degrees and snowing (even though I love the snow).  The windows are open practically full blast - I'm entreating Zephyrus to blow some gentle winds this way, but the clouds tell me otherwise - and perhaps to expect that some farmers might expect a refreshing rain tonight or this week (check your Greek mythology, friends).

It has been an extra-ordinairily exhausting 10 days.  Last Friday night, I had my appendix taken out - a full on operation, complete with lengthy incision, 3 hour operation, 5 day hospital stay, and scar -- not to mention the recovery period.  I'm likely out of the office again this week, though still recouperating at home after a week of Mother's and Father's love and cooking.  The fridge and freezer are well stocked with nutrient filled Italian and Polish treats.

I'm doing some knitting and some writing - but largely, I'm sleeping and watching the Olympics. I will skip the lengthy story of how this came to be and so on, but this seemed to be the easiest way to tell everyone that I'm not just skipping out on life again, I have a good reason! 

If you're expecting something from me and I haven't yet responded, please email me directly. 

Will update later as I can - Onward.

PS I've cancelled my registration to SOAR - with bills and depleting my vacation time, it just won't work this year, but I'm hoping to be first in line in 09. Stitches looks like it might still be a go.

August, I Love You

Sunday evening.  The evening of a perfect August Sunday.  This morning, at 830am, as I was scurrying my way to Yoga (late), I couldn't help but notice how the air had cooled considerably.  It was so wonderful, easy to breathe, and just the best morning (made me wish I'd left earlier for Yoga and could have walked more slowly, enjoyed the air, and not been trying to ignore the tight feeling in my calves as I slammed them on the concrete!).  A perfect morning gave way to a wonderful afternoon, a perfect cool breeze, and some good friends not often seen, at a Penn Quarter patio.  Now, at nearing 9pm, the air has the same cooling feeling - it's clean and wonderful, and with windows fully open, I find myself sighing, "August, I love you." [Interestingly, I did have a friend in college named August, and I did think he was cute, but I'll save that one for the autobiography].

It has been a wonderful few weeks.  I'm coming into 30 beautifully.  I imagine this is what it's like to live in a a space much larger than one room, sort of.  All you who are lucky enough to describe your living quarters as spacious, you must come home and say, "Wow, this is pretty roomy - I'm blessed."  And that's how I often feel, like a lot of the tightness and anxiety that I experienced in my 20s has fallen away into the corners of a more spacious living experience, and in some moments, I find myself seeing the reality I perceive peel-back to reveal something much more special. Or, maybe I'm just writing all this while the sweet August perfum-ed air is coming in.  But, needless to say, it's been a long time since I've felt so relaxed. Then again (again), I'm recently done with a contract that always gives me a lot of stress (but which I love to work on dearly).

Since our last encounter, there has been some travel - I had a wonderful spinning workshop with Jacey Boggs in Baltimore, where I learned my fair share about spinning some artyarns (which was a jolly good time), and moreso, I've been to Central Wisconsin (and returned without issue) to attend Knitting Camp.  And I took pictures (wonders of wonders).

Now, before I go on, I'd like to say, I seriously toyed with the idea of writing a post to slam the experience - say I'd never be back - with the hidden agenda of waylaying all of you potential campers and thus making entry easier next year. In fact, I'm still very tempted to do this - but a) I know Schoolhouse Press friends read this blog, and moreso b) I'm heartened that rising gas prices will make it so impossible for anyone to travel to Central Wisconsin next year, that I'm going to just go ahead and give you the full monty (as much as a girl can, without keeping some special secrets for herself), so that I can emulate Samantha Brown and give you special view into the greatness of the weekend. Onwards.

I arrived Thursday afternoon - slightly later than last year.  I remember being a little disoriented, being in Wisconsin at 2pm, thinking it was 3pm, and feeling like last year, I arrived at 1pm (Central).  But, after a fun little trip in the van from CWA to the Holiday Inn (where the driver, who was great fun to talk to, didn't actually make the connection that I was flying in for knitting camp - you know, somehow, it didn't connect that I was one of the 50+ knitters taking over the hotel - until we were more than halfway there, and then came the barage of "men knitting" questions, but I digress), I headed up the street to 'The Daily Grind' to get a latte and samich for lunch (yes, Ranch dressing was early in my stay).

I spent a few hours in the park outside the hotel, working on knit-work, and then headed inside for preparation for our evening supper.  I was admittedly somewhat stressing - here I am, and certainly, I know a few folks who're there but largely, I pictured the group of attendees as folks who'd known each other since 2 steps from the womb, and here I was, myself, just now 30 steps from the womb, and would we do ok?  Well, certainly, everything went fine throughout the weekend - I had nothing to worry about.  I ate dinner with Emily Ocker - yes that Emily Ocker (Emily Freakin' Ocker!) and her family - 3 generations of knitters there in the Ocker clan (with different last names, through marriage of course), and a few other knitterly types from Chicago and the midwest. 

Shortly following dinner, there was a mad dash for seats around the table, where I happened to score a seat only a few down from the fabulous Franklin Habit - which was very cool, and nice, after many years of emailing and reading, to finally have a face to match to a, uh, face - you know what I mean.

There he is, doing something other than knitting - though I saw him do a lot of knitting over the weekend, so don't you go getting any ideas.

This being Oft-Timers, the workshops were a lot less structured - and a lot more of Meg answering questions than anything - which was fine by me.  In fact, I appreciated the free-form nature of the weekend - lots of time spent just chatting, telling stories, answering specific questions (mostly from me), and a review of techniques that folks requested.

I had actually brought a project with.  As you can imagine, I tend to keep pretty busy with writing and tech editing (and that's ok by me), but it means I have less time than I'd like to make my way through the pattern library of Meg Swansen and Elizabeth Zimmermann.  I had already decided to bring the balance of unsigned Meg Swansen publications for her to sign - and had intended to start on a "Round the Bend" jacket, but upon receiving the handouts, decided instead I would spend the time actually trying to learn something - which I did.  I spent a few long hours practicing Bavarian Twisted Stitch, which I was mightily thankful to learn (Lots of potential there!) and a few precious hours learning Armenian Knitting (which admittedly, I "get" but needed some time to practice catching those floats - this was a good thing, cause I also've finally figured out how Meg holds the yarns in Fair Isle, which is great and very useful). So, throughout the weekend, I managed to finish a little Bavarian Twist Cap, and start on a second cap in Armenian knitting - and also start on a jacket from 'Meg Swansen's Knitting' (long out of print, sorry kids - it's a classic, hunt one down), to satisfy my desires to work another piece in the Unspun Icelandic, doubled - which I loved while working on the Rams Horn.  Which brings me to...

No, you're not seeing double - that's my Ram's Horn (me in mine) and Meg wearing hers.  It was kind of a really wonderful moment to grab the photo - and it's definitely a special moment for me - I was so enamoured withe the design last year and wore it throughout camp.  I feel pretty good about the finished piece - other than the fact that it requires a bit deeper collar, which I'll work on as time permits.

I managed to grab a couple of other famous knitter photos - another one this year with Joyce - and Cookie A!

[I seem to be having this weird smile thing in all these photos -  I was pretty exhausted by this point on Sunday!]

And, I managed to grab a photo of this awesome girl from Boulder - Kristi - she rocked pretty hardcore - here she is with a masked man (woman?)

Actually, that's Cookie A - those masks freaked us all out (despite their masterful technique) and I made them put them on!  If you look off to the left, you'll see Diane Zangl - a great designer/tech editor I connected with, which was really a highlight - and behind her, in the blue, the back of Emily Ocker's head! Wow!

Oft-Timers was perfect for me, really. It was a nice mix of lots of chat and relaxing - no pressure really to do anything, and a lot of opportunity to hear a lot of great background for and from everyone about the field, where we've been, what early camp was like, and more.  I spent many hours knitting late into the night, hours in the Jacuzzi and on the water slide, out in the park, and really, almost, having a vacation.  Can't have asked for a better time - hope I'll still be coming in 35 years - it's very meaningful to me to be a part of this, so I can't wait.

Onwards, I have a few weeks off from Tech Editing (other than a small contract coming up) to make a sweater due in 3 weeks, and an article due in early September.  Been thinking hard about what my next book will be - and I think I've gotten a really good idea for a collection - so I'll be busy back on that again.  Will keep you posted, as it comes together.

Meanwhile, hope you're all well - enjoy yourself a little piece of August!