TrickyTricot

The Day Before The End

Tuesday night.  I've never much liked Tuesdays - I find they're pretty blah days.  As a kid, I liked the idea of 'Ruby Tuesdays' - because I loved chicken fingers (covered in honey mustard) and spicy fries (the bloomin' onion was mighty tasty too) - but it never impacted my love of the actual day.  The only consolation I've ever had for Tuesdays has been, "Well, it's almost Wednesday".  That's it.  This particular Wednesday, the 30th, was a good winter (ish) day - I could tell in the way the sun set (and the Maxfield Parrish-esque color in the clouds). I would have liked something colder - something more like winter but, as it is with all things, we take what we can get (and then get neurotic or complain to others about it).

Thanks much to all for their little notes and well wishes.  I was grateful to see comments from good friends here. Nary a "post again tomorrow" bit of sass - so here I am with another excerpt from the days (day) of our lives (life).  Folks who ran to the blog after I posted yesterday probably didn't catch the updates and changes I made yesterday. I *finally* figured out how to update the links in my sidebar (re-figured out, really), and decided I'd open up Photoshop and get down and dirty to the point of creating a new header.  I quite love this image - it was one I took within the first hour or two of being in Italy, as we whisked away from Malpensa to our mountain escape in Lugano.  It was raining that day and as the tour guide talked and talked (we all practiced our "Buongiorno" and our "Prego"), I snapped a few quick pics of the mountain towns - this one included.  I love the view of this one and popped it in above (after a few versions - I know more about Photoshop than I think I do, but not nearly enough to be smart and good).  A new web-button to come (or not --- I kind of think buttons are a thing of the past).

On the tagline, "Always Check Your Gauge", I nearly removed it entirely.  Dan and I came up with the blog name and title together - and though I loved the gauge / gay-ge thing, I confess I don't think I'm gay enough to really put that meaning on it (as in, by reading this blog, you'd be getting the gauge on the real young gay male and all that comes with it).  BUT, as I went back and forth, I realized that a lot of my public writing here *is* about checking my own gauge - that is to say that what gets posted has nothing to do with who reads it or what they think, but rather what I do and I think. You're all quiet witnesses in my mental forum - you're behind the clear plexi-glass - as I check my own gauge and so on. Really, I should consider taking the "Tricot" part of my name off - when was the last time I talked about knitting? There has been some - I just completed two sweaters (Meg Swansen pieces, which I'll post when I can find a proper photographer).

So, after the post yesterday, though I imagined I'd be busy and get a lot done by the end of the day, I actually did not much (though I can't actually recall what that was or how it suddenly became 8pm).  I do remember 2 things - which I'll talk about here because they're important - but beyond those, it's just a lot of static (not even "Poltergeist" static - more like, "I've already seen this episode of 'Charmed' 30 times, I'll watch it again" static).

First, I remember it being around 730pm.  I had just finished watching an episode of "The Simpsons".  I'm convinced I've seen almost every episode of "The Simpsons".  I confess that last night I started watching the episode and thought maybe I hadn't seen it (it was the episode where Homer figures out that the rapture is on its way), though I had indeed seen it (twice). 730 rolls around and I realize I can't possibly watch anymore TV.  See, my cable provider (who shall remain nameless) recently forced me to upgrade to digital cable (I understand there's some big hub-bub coming in February where old TV antenae will no longer function and we'll all be screwed, so it's not like they singled me out.  Though, if you didn't know any better and I felt better about lying, I might tell you otherwise). Where it used to be easy to find everything, it's now incredibly difficult. What's worse, I technically get something like 600 channels - BUT, I don't actually get them. Really, it's more like this: Bravo, TNT, blank channel, blank channel, TBS, blank channel, Sci Fi, blank channel, blank channel, blank channel, blank channel, blank channel, Animal Planet, and on. Now, if you're in my same predicament, you know that those blank channels are really good channels that you have to pay for with Supreme digital cable, which I refuse to do.  Not only am I really pissed at the company formerly known as Starpower (there I said it) for doing this, I think it's ridiculous - it's a ploy to get me to give more of my hard-earned money, which I have little of, just so that I don't have to look at the blank channels.  It appeals to my neurotic OCD side (which they must know I have - a little anyway) and it also makes me infuriated.  BUT, this is all a side to where I find myself (and maybe you do too).

I originally got cable in 2004, when I realized "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" was on Cartoon Network (as was "Juniper Lee" - both have now either disappeared or gotten bad).  Now, I find myself really hard pressed to spend more than an hour or so of watching TV.  Occasionally, I'll find something I really want to watch - like "Top Chef" or what have you, but mostly, I watch something, and become soooo bored, that I find myself turning the TV off to do something else.  Now, this seems good and healthy, right? But, really, if you're of my generation, you're just as freaked out as I am. 

We late-70s babies did nothing but watch TV as kids.  They say that 2 hours of TV a day is healthy, but for us, 2-hours is pretty low.  Two episodes of 'Charmed' is 2 hours - and that's just before 6pm! So, after an hour of watching and being bored, I feel like my whole world is thrown into craziness. 

In this economy, and in thinking about big life changes that I feel are on the horizon (no one can tell me I'm just imagining something), I'm seriously considering cancelling my cable entirely.  I'm envigorated by this - and freaked out.  I believe tomorrow will be the day when I cut RCN back from $162 bucks a month (for cable, internet, and phone) to just $50 or so.  Looking at the bill, I can't believe I'm paying some 60 or 70 bucks for this crappy cable that I can't watch, and at least 20 bucks a month for phone that I barely touch (except to let the pizza man in). I'm gonna do it - don't tempt me, so help me, I'm going to cancel it.

Yes, it's here, my first new year's resolution. 'Cept, it's not like "I'll stop eating chocolate" (which I'd never do really) - you can't cancel your cable and then get it back again - I'm callin it quits, and it's all over.

The second thing I remember, and this *is* related, is downloading the 7 volumes of 'The Chronicles of Narnia' from Itunes (for $15).  They're read by Kenneth Branag (sp?) and others... I've likely never mentioned it, but I love these books.  I really don't care that they're inspired by the Bible and reflective of it (THOUGH, my spine did twitch a bit when I watched 'Prince Caspian' on my iPhone on my way back from CT on Saturday, and saw Aslan say something Jesus-y to Lucy for not coming to see him by herself - if you've read/watched, maybe you know and also twitched) - I read them when I was a teenager.  I know I read "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe" - or at least saw the movie (does anyone else remember that crappy movie? It was like cut-outs that were *really poorly animated* - but the story is so good, it didn't really matter) - and think I read "Prince Caspian" (though also confess when I watched the movie this weekend, I didn't remember a lot of scenes); but really "got into it" (as the young'ins say) when I read "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" - which is my favorite and "The Magician's Nephew" - which is also a favorite (and luckily for me, now referred to as a L/W/W prequel and really the first book in the new line-up (even though it's really written sixth). I read all 7 (or really the 5) in one summer - which was a lot of reading for someone who was watching as much TV as they could...

So, at 730pm, when I could not take another re-run of 'Seinfeld', I played the first track of 'The Magician's Nephew' and was instantly hooked. I listened to the whole book last night - nearly 5 hours, while working on Meg Swansen's 'Russian Prime' and loved it.  I'm not a quick reader - in fact, when I read 'Life of Pi' (as everyone has), it took me like 2 weeks, which was the slowest I'd read a book (of all the others in my book club.  I excused myself from the book club when I heard that).  Really, it was a wonderful way to spend the evening - who doesn't like being read to?  Who doesn't like Kenneth Brannagh (sp?)? Who doesn't love Fair Isle at 5 and a half to the inch? I have found my response to no more cable - and it's in books.  I'm a librarian's dream, I'm every mother's constant wish: turning off the TV to read a book (or better yet, be read to).  I'm looking forward to listening to the next book (though I'm not sure it will be L/W/W - I really do know that story so well) - and I confess I very much want to download the Harry Potter books (which I've also read - though I love the idea that they're dramatized).  Perhaps 'Atlas Shrugged' and I will still meet one day.

More to come this week, I'm sure....

It's Still December...

Monday morning, er early afternoon-ish.  The skies are crystal blue - in fact, were you to open the pages of your Websters, you'd find this day under the words "crystal blue" (ridiculous, I know, Websters doesn't list "crystal blue" as a term.  I just checked). In the summer, this day would be perfect - I'd be running out to the park to sit 'derneath oak trees and feel the breeze - then again, were this summer, I wouldn't have the week off.  Happy New Years indeed.

I know you've all been waiting with baited breath to hear how I've been.  (Maybe).  By now, I think you know (those of you who've been reading since Day 1) that I treat my blog much like a new favorite restaurant.  The first few days I eat there endlessly - I can't get enough of it.  I like to try everything on the menu, explore every little corner and taste, and practically gorge myself on my favorites like jobche noodle, vegan cake, and red-purple rice.  From there, I return now and then, and relive the "good times"... until weeks and months pass without a sweet potato and healthy dose of cabbage.  One day, I think to myself, "Hmmmm... I'll bet a Flax Seed Salad is exactly what I'm craving" and I'm right back there, eating and re-living and so on.  Sounds true of my blog, no?

Well, at any rate, it has indeed been a busy fall.  When we last left, I was unpacking-showering-packing-gauzing-taping-binding twice a day.  You'd think things would have been ok after that, but well, there was additional drama to come (which I will not recount because it reeks of a wee-emotional-breakdown worse than any actual health drama).  In the end, I came to learn that it takes the body a long time to heal from surgery (obvious, I know) - in fact, I'm still healing.  I'm all closed up with a substantial scar and so on, but I can still feel the tissue moulding and sculpting beneath the skin and it is an odd feeling.  My dentist, whom I greatly admire both for her artful handling of my dental anxiety and for her generous and kind spirit, told me the best way to get on from the whole surgery is to touch my scar regularly and often - to help the body and the mind get beyond the trauma.  I've certainly tried this (she explained it as some sort of mental-nerve-thing - like it was scientific, though I don't know) - but I still catch myself saying silently, "Wow, what's that big line on your belly and how'd that get there."  My mom tells me not to rest on it... but I confess I also find myself saying, "Sh*t, I could be dead right now. Sh*t."

*Deep Breath*

If nothing else, the whole to-do sent me to really look on my life and all the things I do and evaluate.  I certainly learned who my friends are - no doubt about that.  Some local folks who I admittedly felt tight with (and who I know read this blog) appeared to, uh, disappear which was disappointing.  I confess I experienced a wee ego-blow when I considered the  help and support I'd given them vis a vis my own drama --- but decided rather than keeping score (which one might read that I'm still doing - it's ok, I acknowledge that I'm sometimes bitter) or asking for a return on knitted-gifts, yarn, or other aide, I opted instead to fill my spare time with other activity. I'm better for it, I think - but sometimes our best-acts-of-self-protection are not in our best interests (perhaps even pointing my disappointment out here and now will cause some stir in the would-be Dansko-filled chicken coop, but I think that's ok and don't mind a little passive-agression to those folks.  Hell, everyone needs someone to talk about).

Wow, that last paragraph was pretty involved. Maybe I should look in Websters for "choosing-your-words-carefully".

On the flip side, I confess friends with whom I knew less well - often readers here from elsewhere who'd had their own experiences - or still others who had drifted from me or I them - proved to be invaluable sources of consolation, perspective, and runs-to-the-grocery-store when I ran out of yogurt or good fresh fruit. There's one special guy who's driving back from Corpus-Christi/Dallas via the Eastern states who I'd like to thank with a wee giftie, but I'll need to thank him when I see him (and he's within the DMV area again).

On filling my time with other pursuits, I made a few important decisions in the fall - I decided to hire sample knitters to do all my work for me. It's been a blessing through and through (mostly) and I don't mind with parting with a bit of a commission to be able to have time to make dinner and/or have some personal time. I plan to continue with this in 2009 - and have put a call for knitters up in the "testing pool" forum in Ravelry. I've gotten some good responses - and have heard from one cool-cat that I'm hell-bent on keeping busy this spring, and am looking to add one or two more. Look there for the details. Ravelry has been wonderful - and I wish I could take back all of the crazy things I said about not having time for it.  Beyond being a great forum to meet friends and talk with knitters, it's been an endless source of tech editing work, which I love and value (and thank them for with Financial bits, when I'm able).

I'm off this week - the last few days of December and the first few of January.  I have a full-plate indeed but am welcoming a bit of time to post to the blog, do some knitting, and a ton of planning for 2009 (Business plan, here I come!).

Best wishes to all of you who are still out there with an ear - and let me know you're here!

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!

TNNA, San Diego, and where you choose to stay...

***Edited to add, after the fact, the post below was written in response to several TNNA Members actions and statements on Ravelry.com.  It wasn't clear at the moment of writing whether these statements were or were not at all supported by actual TNNA officials, and in no way is the post below meant to insult or hinder the work that TNNA does.  It is intended to ask participants in their winter meeting to think twice about which hotel they book.***

Thursday night and I really need to be in a better place on knit-work to meet an approaching deadline.  Yes yes,Ted's right, my birthday (the big 3-0) just passed and we're past the annual birthday post, which I hope to do next week while at Knitting Camp in Wisconsin, but I felt like this post was timely enough that I wanted interested parties to be in the know.

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past few months, you know that California has ruled to support same-sex marriage (totally awesome!).  More recently, it's come to the surface that there are a few California-based services and establishments that are giving dollars towards overturning the ruling (or however these legal things work) to re-establish that marriage should be between a man and a woman (totally absurd in my mind).  For interested parties, the name of the hotels are Manchester Hotels, and there's a site out there detailing ways that you can show these businesses that we mean business by boycotting them and spending your dollars on gay-friendly establishments (visit www.boycottmanchesterhotels.com when you have yourself a pretty-minute). These hotels in particular have given more than $125K towards the cause - not chump change.

Meanwhile, TNNA (The National Needleworker's Association) will meet in San Diego in the winter.  TNNA is a great event - true, I've never been, but I think it's a great source for designers and editors alike to make all kinds of contacts that become the foundation for a significant portion of their work for the year and season. One of the host hotels for the event is a Manchester Hotel. 

For designers, editors, yarn store owners and others attending the event, I urge you, please look deep inside yourself and choose an alternative to this hotel. Gay marriage in California and Massachusetts is a huge deal for us gays - both are large states and in a lot of ways, when other states see folks making the move, they similarly do - it makes a BIG deal to those of us who want to marry, and can't, because of some crazy laws that are based on the church's opinion. I urge you to "vote with your pocketbook" and choose an establishment that doesn't support hate-mongering and limiting rights.

Let me be clear, I am not in any way suggesting you not go to or not support TNNA.  I absolutely understand where they are and where they're coming from. You organize an event, you book a hotel block and when faced with not meeting the block, let's just say it's like when you go to buy a bag of M&Ms and decide to eat 2 and return the bag.  Hotel blocks don't work that way - you say you'll buy or get reservations: you get the rooms either way (AND, sometimes, hotels can rebook the rooms if they're vacant). Further, it's not their fault - hotels are booked years out, and let me tell you, as a meeting planner, you have no time to research political values and what hotels choose to support with their money, or hell, knowing that when you (or more likely, your predecessor) sign a contract for five years down the line.

I want to see TNNA succeed and continue to be a resource for the field - but please, when booking your hotel, choose freedom, choose marriage, choose equality, and make a choice that you can feel good about when gay guys - like me - come into your store to spend their gay dollars on hundreds of dollars of sock yarn.

PS If you're not supportive of gay marriage or want to make some crazy comment about how we're all going to burn in hell for being butt-buddies, I don't want to hear it and my comments are not a forum for you and your crazy values.  I normally leave all comments up, but I have no problem signing in, hitting the delete button, and making every effort I can to block comments from you in the future.  Hell, maybe I'll make a list and sign you up for crap from all my favorite gay establishments - anyway - bottom line, if you can't be nice, go away.

PS2 For TNNA members who've started this "dialogue", I want to love you. But, locking the thread on ravelry in the TNNA forums to stop the conversation was in poor taste.  Dialogue is essential to creating an environment where all people feel their perspectives and needs are being addressed.  From years of experience working with dialogue-based organizations, when you snuff the dialogue, divisive issues build up in the community and that can be very hurtful to social networks. Please, re-open the thread for discussion.

Proustian Summer and Professional Speedbumps

Wednesday evening.  The heat has *finally* broken in Washington.  For me, 100 degrees isn't that bad - folks here whine hardcore about the heat and humidity.  Sure, it's uncomfortable - but what I find most interesting for myself is how hot weather is a Proustian-cup-of-tilleul-and-madeleine- experience.  This week, I spent a lot of time thinking about hot weather in France, when I lived in Valence for a summer with une famille francaise, and last summer, when we were in Venice and Rome - and the heat was so bad it was like being in an oven.  Both cases -- all three locales -- I was exceptionally happy; so being in heat, humidity, and general discomfortness outside this week was wonderful.  If only I had a pool - then I'd be able to relive those summers spent in St. Pete's with my grandparents -- and the pool they had -- and the hours I spent in it every day.

Even with the warm temperatures and what's clearly summer time in DC -- and the impending arrival of the longest day of the year, I'm not quite feeling the same sinking into summer relaxedness I usually feel.  Next week, I'm off to Philadelphia for our annual convention, which will be interesting and very stressful - as those things always are.  In a lot of ways, the four days spent are very much like parallel parking -- you ease into the space of that time, being very careful not to do mental (or emotional - or even physical) damage to yourself -- only to find that when you've experienced all the stress of easing into that space, the time is over - and you're on your way back to town.  Man, I hate parallel parking. But, this experience is very much "me" -- in these types of situations, I'm very much "on show"... I don't want the buyers seeing all the dents and cracks (whereas, when I'm out here writing - or out on the road, I actually think the dents and cracks make me a better author. Go figure).

Needless to say, I'm feeling some advance event stress and anxiety.  Nothing new - same ol same ol.

On the flip side, my creative juices are going gang busters.  I've been sketching *a lot* lately - which isn't usually part of my design process at all.  I made this silly goal a week or so ago that I would try and sketch 5 new designs a day -- even if they were crap -- and it's been going pretty well.  Some have made it to swatch, which is really awesome and I'm psyched about.  I like the idea of having a backlog of developed designs - it makes them easier to sell -- and it becomes good fodder for another book (which I'd like to do sooner than I think I can, but...).

The impending departure from DC has hit a few roadblocks - not even roadblocks - speedbumps.  In a lot of ways, I feel like a kid the first time he's hit a swimming pool.  You know, you've got your floaties on, you're with your mom, she's telling you it's ok you'll be fine - and you're like "Hell no lady... I'm not letting go, I don't care how fine you think I'll be."  I think I may have even screamed bloody murder when I was in the pool the first time, I was so scared. [I later came to love the water - go figure]. Then, you gather your courage and you go... and everything's alright.  Professionally speaking, it's how I'm feeling - no safety net [aside from my savings], no floaties [aside from all the work I think I can get, plus time to design]... I'm a bit scared - what I need is a push (I think even saying that is kind of scary - because I really don't want a push). Truthfully, I'm feeling like if I picked up and left tomorrow - I could make it work -- but in reality, I like the idea of having a cushy job to move to -- you know, just in case rather than working from home, I actually would rather just watch cartoons all day and you know, not get paid. But, it's all going to come to a head soon - so we'll see.

Knitwise, I've finally broken down and started to hire knitters to do the "grunt work" for me.  It means that I can design and write more (which I'm doing), but also means I get less dough. I have a great knitter doing work for me right now - I'd tell you who she is, but I don't want you stealing her from me so... I've got a whole bunch of stuff coming up, so there's some steam building....  I owe some photos to folks, but, of course, have lost my camera battery charger, so we're SOL til that comes in.

Finally, I've been accepted to SOAR in October - if you're going, either from the DC area, or elsewhere, let me know so we can connect.  I'm only staying for the workshop...  Meanwhile, I'm thinking of going back to Easton in August for Gay Spirit Camp.  If you're a MSKR-er and are similarly interested -- and have the dough -- let's make it easier for both of us!

Onwards all.  I promise to take good photos in Philly -- I'll have the pleasure of seeing Maxfield Parrish's "Dream Garden" at the Curtis Building while there, which will be a high point.  If you're a Phill-ier, hit me up and maybe we can grab coffee.

MSKR 08

Tuesday afternoon. It was clouds and rain this morning, then clouds and wind this afternoon, and now: clear and sun - to clear and dusk - and what I believe will be clear and Monday (Memorial Day, to come) in DC. It's cool outside. As I came back from lunch with Dan today, a woman stopped me in the elevator and was telling me how cool and sticky it is / was outside -- we both hoped that it wouldn't be this way all week.  Looking up and on, I think we'll have 70s and sun - and soon, 80s and sun.  Summer is coming - spring has been cool, I think we all think we're in for a cool summer.  May be too soon to tell.

I'm here... in body - but clearly not in heart and mind, where I'm still in New York, the foothills of (what I believe are) the Green Mountains and sitting on the porch of the main lodge at Easton Mountain
, reliving the greatness of the weekend and the Men's Spring Knitting Retreat. In truth, I had feared I might not have a spring gathering experience this year - the MidAtlantic Mens Gathering is somewhat in transition.  Our relationship with our site has undergone some diress - and as a result, both of that stress - and our own planner burnout, not to mention the fact that so many attendees have dropped off to take part in other holiday weekend plans - a result of their unwillingness, I suspect, to make the travel - we needed to cancel this year's Spring Gathering.  The first in a long line of Spring Gatherings not to happen, I know I was somewhat saddened. 

With the opportunity to be at the MSKR, I feel like that need was satisfied in a deeply powerful way.  Others who were there, will tell the travelogue of their own experience as they can (there's a great photo-essay on Joe's site, and a few photos on flickr - one where it looks like I have calf hips and calves), but I'd like to share my own experience - both to process and to share (it's therapy for all!).  I'm hesitant to go on and on about how great it was - my selfish thinking wants to tell you all it's like runny eggs (ew, runny eggs), so next year it'll be 30 of the same great guys that it was this year - that it'll be something small and special and unknown. Like the small restaurants on 9th street - or the great galleries nestled downtown.  But I can't - I'm a writer - it's in my nature to tell my story. Onwards.

To set the scene, last week, and the weekend before, the MidAtlantic saw more rain in one focused length of time than any other - well for a long time.  As a result, beyond the many homes flooded and damaged in Maryland and Virginia, and beyond the sinkholes all over the area still unravelling earth, many of us probably couldn't stand another clouded sky day - me, I know for sure.  The rain had done a serious number on my allergies -  cool, wetness had somehow gotten inside my head and was punching headache after headache my way, plus a un-relievable tightness in my neck and shoulders.  This, compounded with this overwhelming feeling that I was / am being hurtled through space unavoidably towards the future, made me think maybe I'd skip out... spend a few days at home and not go. One thing I hate almost as much as runny eggs (eww, runny eggs), is being away from home and ill.  I don't like being a burden to someone, and I don't like not being able to run away and do the "pet dying alone in the woods" act (you know, you're sick - rather than be out and about, you'd like to hang low and not be seen). 

Come Friday morning, when my flight was set to leave DCA for Albany, I pushed myself out the door.  It was too late to cancel the flight, and I felt I might as well just go. Besides, I just bought a new wheel just so that I could travel and learn new skills - it'd be like I'd wasted that money on something I wouldn't use.  So, I *had* to go.  I arrived at the airport as early as usual - about two hours - I need to remind myself this is *way* too early... despite folks always telling me get their early, I can't think of a single instance where I haven't made my way through check in and security in under 10 minutes. Anyway,I boarded the packed plane from DC to Albany (Note to US Airways and Republic Airlines - the bathrooms on your shuttles are too small for the average man with calf hips and calves), where I met Stephen, and Dave from Easton - and we were on our way through the countryside - past the physical home of Uncle Sam, past two alpaca farms, and up the dirt road to the site. 

Once there, we met up with a few early birds - this cutie-patootie from Fort Lauderdale (partnered, so I restrained myself - besides, he didn't know what a blog is) and Kenny (of copyright-infringement fame - you girls on Ravelry make us crazy with your craziness).  We all ate a bit of lunch, got settled in our rooms (somehow I managed to get a full size bed in Easton's lovely guest house - a total dream which I can thank my MGM roommate for), and walked the grounds a bit.  Participants continued to arrive - and so the weekend began. 

Rather than recount what follows next - because getting there really is half the story - I can say I met a lot of great guys this weekend.  30 to be exact - it was great to reconnect with Guido, to meet Joe and Ted after so many months (or years of chat online), and to meet new male knitter friends, too numerous to name (or who's faces are burned in me, but names will likely fade).  My goal for the weekend was to slow that "hurtling through space uncontrollably" feeling - I spent a lot of time chatting with folks.  In fact, aside from a great cotton spinning workshop with Chris on Saturday, I spent most of Saturday (and the rest of the weekend) chatting with Canadian Van, Ted, Danny, and others - watching the pond and seeing the various wildlife of mid-state New York. 

There were some great moments to be sure - being in the sauna was one.  It was warm and the heat clenched its fists around my tight neck muscles and pulled them free (though admittedly, being nearly naked among other knitters is a bit freaky - I think some folks were too freaked out to even pursue it - which I understand, but relaxation has it's price - and I had to trust that rumors of my calf sized hips and calves would be limited). Talking to knitters individually, was another - hearing their stories centered some deep questions for me, which was very healing (I use that word sparingly, and will purposefully neglect details).  Hearing how "Knitting with Balls" impacted knitters there was another - a moment of great honor and humble-ness - to all who mentioned something meaningful to me, I am incredibly honored and was thrilled to make your acquaintance. The perfect view on Saturday was still another - I saw Redwing Blackbirds, Orioles, Goldfinches, a family of geese, a Great Blue Heron, Robins, Blue Jays, and a full arsenal of other wildlife I never see (including a wee pony and some baby Alpaca on the way there).

There were of course great material goodies too.  Ted  did an amazing service and asked sponsors including Black Bunny Fibers, Briar Rose, Louet, Schoolhouse Press, Threadbare, and many many others to donate goods for door prizes.  From that - and the ensuing process, I managed to score 4oz of Oceanwind Knits roving in a wonderful watery green color, 8oz of Karaoke from Louet, and 3 silk hankies that I can't wait to spin.  PLUS, from Chris' great cotton spinning workshop, I think I managed to score a pound (or more) of various types of cotton which'll be fun to practice with.

Leaving on Sunday was hard. In fact, coming back to DC was a lot harder than I think it ever has been.  Usually by a few days away, I'm ready to come back.  I'm usually hungry by then for some Baja Fresh and a latte - I'm ready to sit at the TV and watch hours of America's Next Top Model (I can't believe Whitney won the last cycle - I think Tyra realizes that ANTM is nearly done, she wanted to see a full figure girl take the cup - good for her).  BUT, come Sunday afternoon post-lunch, I really didn't want to go - I was on the verge of holding onto the lodge for dear life, to be pried away (not really - I did need to get to the airport, I am after all an adult). 

Still, anyone who was there can identify with what I was feeling.  For all of us, whether we know it or not, being in community - a real, living, honest to G-d community - is a luxury.  Think about it - you live in a city, you meet guys, there's always someone prettier or smarter to see and chat up, there's always somewhere else to rush off to, always something else to buy; but, when you gather in the middle of nowhere, united by a common craft, something shifts.  Life slows down - and simple interactions like showing off a finished product or sharing a meal turn from mundane to deeply meaningful. And, amongst your brethren (straight and gay), you realize that life is so much bigger and wonderful - and you wonder why you can't live like that always.

For me personally, I came to understand how small my life feels at 29.  I work 9 to 5, then often 6-11 and onwards. My home is a shoebox, with cardboard walls and an easy-bake oven.  I live in a city I've never really loved, I have a small circle of local people I dare-to-call friends, I have long talked about and dreamed of northern pastures, and though I have a great job - I hunger for an environment where "How are you?" is more than a nicety, and an actual concern for someone else's well being (this is a reflection on the city, not on my job in any way).  It sounds odd to leave the city and to head to the country to knit and to feel like you're living large, but it's definitely my experience.  All I've got to do now, is live up to the experience and carry it forward. 

Vermont - I'm coming your way as soon as I'm able.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Knittingwise, I very much want to show you what I thought would have been sock weight and length (which turned out to be dk weight and not sock length) spinning - plus my newest spinning project, a completed Fugl, and the near complete Sock Kureyon Socks - but this is a very busy week that I'm already behind on and deadlines loom.  It's a 3-day weekend to come, so I'll be back before you know it.

Finished sweater, weekend plans

Another late night.  Cooling down outside - rain somewhere off in the distance (like, Iowa distance - not PG County distance).  It's cool outside - the air feels very *easy* and I very much like that.  Quiet city tonight - on my street anyway.  I'm sure folks who live on 17th (Dupont) or 18th (Adams Morgan) are having a different experience.

Another late night, did I mention in my last post I've been having trouble sleeping? It's true.  It's not really trouble - it's more like I am not actually going to bed until 1230 or 1, and I'm waking up at 7, and going to work in a good way.  This is very unusual for me - usually, if I'm up this late, I'm working (and no one should think I haven't been) and when I wake up, I'm so exhausted that the idea of going to my job job is sickening.  But not recently.  I mean, I'm not complaining - it's just an odd body thing that's going on right now I guess.

I had an appointment with my bodyworker today.  A good friend of mine who lives on the west coast, acknowledging that I've pretty much given up all hope of ever having a social life so that I can pursue my big knit-dreams, told me one of the most important things for the self-employed (even if they're employed elsewhere while they're also self-employed) is to be sure they "pay themselves" before they pay elsewhere.  Now, admittedly, I've been tempted to ask clients to write checks directly payable to 'Bank of America' - and thus, haven't really been paying myself - BUT, really, to get him off my back, I opted to go see Reya (my bodyworker) once a month.  Now, I think for a very long time, while I was in therapy, I think this is what I really wanted.  AND, if I had been going for weekly massages rather than giving Bob a check for a hundred bucks a week, I probably would have been way happier, faster, but I digress.  When I go see Reya, it's awesome.  The first 20 minutes or so are spent catching up - like old friends... Where have you been, what's been going on, how're you feeling, and so on.  This part of our connection is very much like therapy (for us both - I think).  Speaking for myself, not having the same kind of connection I've had with friends in college or high school (where life is a constant stream of open-mouthed-self-reflection-with-another), having that space with someone is great and very meaningful.  From here, and I think based on that connection, I get bodywork done for an hour or so - this includes accupressure, massage, reiki, and more - it's always a powerful experience for me, and essential time I'm finding.  Afterwards, we connect again... How was the experience, what did you learn, how did things change... and so on, and then I'm off and onwards.  Today, I felt as relaxed as I think I've ever felt - I left feeling like the best possible way to continue the day would be to find a pool to sit by until twilight (which of course didn't happen - but it was nice that the experience took me to that level).

Post work, I came home and finished my sweater for KNS - the next issue, 157.  Without taking pictures of it - I can tell you, I'm pretty freaking thrilled with it.  Lately, in design, I've been experimenting a lot with cables - taking repeats and breaking them down, combining them, exploding them, imploding them - in every way.  In music, I love when a theme is taken and layered - or re explored in multiple movements or the same piece - and find myself approaching design with that goal in mind.  In this one, I gratefully had the chance to work with Kokopelli - a wonderful wool mohair blend from Fiesta in a beautiful oliv-y tone) to create a cabled raglan, with a short v-neck (a design element which just came to me tonight and pretty much is the icing on the cake).  It's on the wooly board now, going through a light block - I can't wait to show it when the magazine hits newsstands (mid July / August).

Finishing the sweater leaves a bit of breathing room in my schedule for the weekend - which will be great.  I have some tech editing to do for a small client which I've been putting off (note to clients, please, don't ever tell me "do this when you have time" because unless you give me a deadline or we work out a mutually agreeable timeline, I really will wait until I have time - and you might not be pleased), and need to start on articles due in July - and want to cast on for the next sweater (a steeked Fair Isle cardigan - using Harrisville - awesome tweeds!).  Moreso, I need to clean - hardcore.  I'd take pictures of this mess, but, well, no, I won't.  The main issue is organizing stash.  Can't wait til it's organized!

Got a couple nice emails asking about the Opal Nera in my last post - Opal Nera is the queen of all anisettes - it's deeply purple, beautifully sweet, and a wonderful taste.  I love Sambuca - don't get me wrong, and have a bottle of Sambuca (clear) which I sometimes add to coffee in the morning (my father likes the Sambuca Black for coffee - it's sweeter),  but Opal Nera can be drunk in small glasses and is wonderful.  If you're an anisette fan, try twisting a bit of lemon rind, pouring some Opal Nera over it, then adding an ice cube.  It's a great drink to cool down with after a great meal.  Me, I've been angsting for some Campari - never tried it, but in my appreciation for all things Italian, I want to give it a try.  I like bitter liqueurs (Chartreuse Vert was an early favorite of mine), but hate the idea of buying a bottle that'll cure under my sink, if I'm not a fan... Campari, after all, isn't on many bars in the US.

Onwards, next post (man, i hate those words - next post - they assume there'll be one), I'll show some spinning - I'm damn near close actually being able to spin sock weight yarn. Can't wait to show some recent results.

Springtime Hello

Monday night, late late.  I've been having a little trouble sleeping lately - it's the opposite of many season changes to this point in my life - where I've often felt as though Mother Earth pulls on all her inhabitants to help her make the transition from winter to spring, summer to fall - but this year, I feel quite enlivened by it. Many trees have soon-to-be full fledged leaves on them, and where very recently you say a green brown haze wrapping branches and stems, you now see a lime-y lush beauty emerging slowly.  The deep, old green of summer will be here soon - I can't wait.  I love summer.

We've had two days of rain in DC and I can truly say, it's been invigorating.  I love the hardness of the rain - and how it cools down the afternoons and nights.  It makes me want to toss on some Vaughn Williams, and sit and write, but mostly I just work.  Work work has been very busy with the development of a new publication (a cd-rom toolkit for workshops we're designing this summer in fall around the US) and I've been deep in it with my Editor hat on, managing content between the copyeditor (who really should be doing this) and the designer (who I finally emailed directly last week, without waiting for the contact to, uh, make contact, and got a proverbial slap on the wrist for breaking the designer-contact wall.  Stupid). Outside of work, in knit work, I'm working feverishly to finish a mens turtleneck pullover in Fiesta's Kokopeli (a wool, mohair mix - yes, men, I love a man in mohair), finish editing a book due out this summer, getting ready to put on my hat for Knit n Style tech edit duties, and start on a sweater due in July, plus two articles. 

Knit work is going very well - I've had several articles published, have been designing and doing more and more work.  I feel like in a lot of ways, it's not the most extraordinary work.  I mean, you think of designers like Annie Modesitt and writers like Stephanie, and you see how volumnous that are in their output - then I consider the work I do in a month or two, and while I think it's exceptional (considering I'm trying to hold down a 9 to 5), it doesn't have the same whirl and mastery as publishing KwB did.  But, I'm happy with where I am with it.  It is of course challenging - managing the details, getting through the workload, and still trying to have time to actually have a life (and post to this blog which *always* falls to the bottom rung - in fact, I probably wouldn't be posting now, if I could sleep. I just had some Opal Nera.  That'll put me out).

In travel news, I've been accepted back to Knitting Camp - I'll be at Retreat 3 with the OftTimers, which should be wonderful and humbling.  I'll try not to make a fool of myself and say something offensive in the first 10 minutes (which I tend to do, but amazing missed last year).  And, I'll be at the Mens Spring Knitting Retreat (MSKR) in May - just booked a plane ticket - AND plan on heading to the Spin Off Annual Retreat in October - and likely skipping out on Stitches (and what is inevitably a set of classes I don't much care for), but being sure to stop by the market. TNNA Columbus is still up in the air - need to think about the expense.

Jumping around a bit here, the Anisette is setting in... I went to a wedding this weekend.  I've been to a few gay weddings in my day - tho this one was Hetero all the way (not a bad thing, straights need love too). Still, I found myself saying that this experience was unlike other weddings (gay ones) that I'd been to. For example, it was nearly 90 degrees in DC on Saturday and despite the invitation which clearly read, no suits, all the guys (except me - who wore some seersucker pants and a buttondown- and my birks) were in wool suits.  Needless to say, I felt extremely underdressed (whereas at a gay wedding, I don't think it'd ever cross our minds to put fashion over comfort - in my circle anyway).  Moreso, I felt a kind of swelling happiness at this wedding, which I've never felt before.  Maybe it was because of the closeness, maybe it was seeing their parents there, maybe it was having a crush on the groom: watching my friends get married, I came to understand why people cry at weddings (I shed a tear or two, or maybe it was the dust).

I skipped out on the reception (someone there, who shall remain nameless) made a snide comment about my state of underdress, which left a very sour taste in my mouth; and as I was walking back North-Easterly to my home, I found myself experiencing that good-bad feeling.  You know these feelings, it's like when you spend a great night with friends drinking, then have a hangover the next morning; have a great yoga class, and then are sore as hell the next day; or eating a pint of headache and getting a really bad headache... I had this sobering moment where feeling really happy for my friends, I, at the same time, felt awfully lonely and single.  Weddings do that to single people I think.  I wonder if there's a term - do we call that 'wedding remorse'? Or does that reference something else?

Otherwise, been working lots and all that jazz - and endeavoring to have a social life beyond yoga.  Looks like the spring mens gathering will be cancelled this year; we're having trouble with the site, and I'm exhausted 'donating' my time to causes that just seem to sap me (though very much honor and miss those gatherings).

Hope to see some of you soon - check out the latest issue of Knit n Style to read my latest article, an interview with Meg Swansen.