Two hats still on the needles.  Just got a shipment of circulars from Japan, a shipment of double-points from Seattle, and a huge box of straights from Colorado.  All for kit-making this year.  A better person would be sorting them out and pre-bundling kits.  Or, at the very least, finishing up the WIPs that were due in December!

I, on the other hand, went and  bought… I know, but please understand I am weak… more yarn.  But, listen, Linda (and if you don’t get that reference, see this), I saw a blankie and couldn’t help myself.  I’ve been carrying around a baby dress, a Gruffalo and two hats in my purse for the last two months that need seaming up, still, I bought more yarn. I vow to not start this until I’m on the plane to Chicago tomorrow or until I’ve finished at least 2 WIPs, whichever comes first.  (We know which one that’s going to be though, right?)


Not Right

A Dog’s Purpose? Ugh. Just saw that video about the filming of the movie  and that poor German Shepherd who was not up for what they were putting him/her through.  How you gonna’ get that shizz so wrong, fam?  It’s a movie about how great dogs are, and this?Nope.

How’s about we figure out our purpose first, because we’re in a mess right now. The least we could do is be kind to, if not each other, then our four-legged friends.

I’m pretty sure if Russell Jenkins, Saul, Louis, Peanutbutter, Eli, Rainer, Vincent, Victor, Sam, Tom, or any of the other wonderfully flawed and damaged pets whom I’ve been lucky to know and spend my life with could talk, they’d say, “Our purpose? Just her, because her looks after us. Also, food. Food is why we’re here too, and her shares it with us most times. But part of our purpose is also sometimes funny farts we let out so we can pretend not to understand where that noise came from, and her can do that fan dance around the room. We love that, and her is amazing at it. But really, just her, because she looks after us.”

Your four-legger likely thinks the same of you, if you’re a decent sort … even if you make them wear costumes from time to time, or knit them sweaters to match yours. That’s 100% okay. (According to me, not them.) My family aside, there has been no greater love I’ve known and expressed for the misfit, unwanted, not-quite-regular pets that I have had the pleasure to care for and know. Mistreating them, or scaring them for the purposes of our entertainment is just terrible. I hope it’s a hoax, and if it’s not, let’s let it be known.

When I Was Young

Traveling for work seemed so glamorous … when I didn’t have to do it. Gotta remember to get real paper money; gotta get up so early; gotta get a hotel near a CVS because there is ALWAYS a tights incident that requires a new purchase and they’re open 24hrs; gotta bring all the wrong power cords and bring exactly no ear phones anyway; can’t find a hotel pen that works and always forget to bring my own; gotta sort the pets and pay more for their boarding than my hotel; gotta find tweezers since my eyebrows thrive on airplane air; gotta buy all the magazines at Hudson News because I am so excited to read them and forget how much they weigh;  gotta sit in the hepatitis row (last seats near the bathroom) to get an aisle seat; gotta hold my tongue in the boarding line; gotta find where I packed my emergency toothbrush; gotta have mints for days; gotta remember to pack travel Febreeze and Lysol (stinky germs); gotta not sleep on the first night in a hotel because I don’t get to watch “Alaskan Bush People” on cable at home; gotta figure out who to tip, for what and how much; gotta sort out time zones; gotta find a knitting project to bring with me in case I break my foot and have to wait in the ER; gotta remember to bring baby aspirin and other old people medicine with me; gotta check in on work happening and that needs doing while I am doing other work … but “Alaskan Bush People” won’t let me go!

First world problems to be sure. And it usually works out for me in the end. I can twist my tights so the run isn’t visible and can usually find my emergency toothbrush since I have a lot of them. I just cannot wait, though to get settled. To be in the place I want to be, in a geography that suits me and be surrounded by a network that makes me better. When I have that, I can take breaks to go anywhere with my ripped up tights and non-minty breath and get it done.

About to be away searching for that settlement.  CTW kit update to follow next week when I get … well, settled!

Sakes Alive!

Traveling has meant my days are not my own!  But, it’s been great meeting new folks and sharing new and good ideas.  But, I’m tired.  Seriously, tired.

Couple that with catching up on all the Obama tribute videos and crying; watching Joe Biden get the medal of freedom and crying; watching Jeff Sessions confirmation hearing and crying; and, watching Elizabeth Warren question Ben Carson and crying.  Tomorrow, going out to buy replacement tissues, and get after the work that needs doing.

Moving on …

Moving on up?  Or out?  Or elsewhere?  Whatever, I’m moving.  Declined the lease renewal today, so I’ve got 45 days to get on out and up after it in a new locale TBD.  Sitting here in the midst of a den full of detritus and old crap I moved the last time, it occurred to me that I might make this a zero sum move.  That is, I can sell the stuff I don’t want and use the proceeds to fund the parts of the move not covered by my relocation allowance.  Anyone want a printer?  Still in the box.  On the lookout for a KitchenAid Mixer?  Only used to make pimento cheese sporadically, and all attachments still in their plastic packaging.  Or, how’s about a settee with a pattern that looks interesting at first glance, but that will give you fits when it’s your daily?  I got all three, and more!  Also, where did all these growlers come from?  I don’t even like beer.

As soon as I can find my camera (already boxed up, unfortunately), I’m going to photograph all the stuff I don’t want/use and post them for sale.  My challenge is that I keep opening up Rubbermaid containers, Spacebags and boxes whereupon I find knitting projects that were this close  to completion.  One step forward with packing, three thousand steps back on weaving in ends!  Hope to finish them all, too, so I can put them up for sale on Make.Do. before winter is over.  Nobody (who’s not a hipster) wants a wool hat in summer, so I only have a couple of weeks to get this sorted!


Year in Review -An Inspiration

This post from Fringe Association!  Always an inspiration, but never more than in her looking back at her craft this year!

This little exercise can be such a shock sometimes: I knitted a grand total of 8 things this year — 7 sweaters and a pair of slippers. Can that even be right? But let’s look at it another way: – I made a pullover for my husband (the first sweater I’ve made him) and a […]

via 2016: My knitting year in review — Fringe Association

You Never Know

I try to remind myself all the time that I never  know what’s going on with someone down where the spirit meets the bone.  Admittedly, I’m much more able to keep that thought front of mind when I’m not in the car, (because the streets are fair game, and you’re all jerks who don’t use turn signals) but generally, I really try.  I don’t know why that woman treated me the way she did in the grocery store, or the extent of the pressures my client(s) might be under that sometimes makes them act out in hurtful ways.  I can try, but I’ll never know. That’s my practice of empathy:  remembering that I don’t know and trying to act in a way that illustrates that.

I had a wonderful opportunity today to do just that.  And, on my penultimate shift as a retail worker!  There was this kid.  I mean, THIS KID! She wanted apple juice like nobody has ever wanted apple juice in their life and screamed and fussed and raised holy hell in the store, when her mom was trying to get her holiday shopping finished.  It was awesome to behold, in the same way that experiencing an earthquake is awesome.  I’m talking dictionary definition, “inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration or FEAR“.  I started off 100% annoyed at the kid and at the mom for not doing a better job of corralling that little monster.  So was almost everyone else in the store.  If eye-rolling made a noise, all you would have heard were the clack-a-clack-clackings of a store-full of eyeballs rolling back into their respective heads.  I have to say that I was hoping she’d end up at someone else’s register. But, she got me.  Or, I got her.

And as much as I wanted to reach out to the kid and give her some little thingy from behind the register to try to quiet her, I didn’t do it.  Because it occurred to me that I had no idea what was going on down where the spirit meets the bone in that little girl.  She could be on the spectrum, she could have a behavioral issue, who knows?  Also, I didn’t want to put more focus on the situation, because the mom was done.  But in the way the mom was treating her, it was clear that this had happened before.  I chose, instead, to just be present for the mom.  We had a 3-minute interaction where I made no mention of her child, and just asked her about her, her shopping, her plans for the holiday, etc.  It was nice.

The person who came to my register next was — and I could see it on her face — ready to commiserate with me about that horrible child.  She started in, but I didn’t play along and didn’t let her finish.  I only said to her that I try to take each person as they come, and that I have no idea about the backstory of either of their lives, so it’s just easier to be kind.  She was like, “I’ll take my book and be gone.  Good day.”  (Not really, but that’s what it felt like.)

The woman next in line at my register heard that interaction, and when I was ringing her up, she was tearing up.  I thought, “Oh, no.  I can do anything, but tears.  Tears, nope, no idea what to do. So uncomfortable right now.”  So, I ignored the tears until she spoke up and said that she’d heard what I said to the previous customer and that it touched her, because she has a son with severe autism.  She didn’t bring him with her to shop because she was worried about what might happen — not to him, but to her, as the rest of the store clucked their tongues and gave her unsolicited advice about what she should be doing when he acts out.

My answer to her was that they don’t know your life.  I said, “Are you ever having any of them over to dinner?  Would you WANT to break bread with them?  I bet there’s always going to be somebody — and maybe just one person in the situation — rooting for you and your son.”  And then she made me hug her (yuck!) and I started tearing up (double-yuck).

There is no moral of the story here.  Just a part of my day that made sense of the rest of it, and I wanted to share.