Knitting the Blues

Not a Good Night for the Geese

A quick post from Staten Island, New York.  I wasn't sure how to begin this post, as I have a story about the drive, but it isn't a happy one, and the reason we are here actually is a happy one.  By now, around lunch time, Pete and I will be the proud parents of a bouncing baby college graduate!  With honors and everything!  Sending her out into the world, it's almost like birthing her all over again, except this time she has to start paying her own bills.  (Fingers crossed.  Toes, too.)  She has chosen to come home for a couple of weeks and then move back to NY to find a job and a place to live.  She has a place for the summer, so, you know, the fingers crossed thing again.  Pete keeps asking what we should get her for graduation.  WHAT!?  We PAID FOR  MOST OF IT! and will probably pay her RENT for the summer.  I think we have done more than enough, don't you?  More on this story to come, complete with a photo or two, I am hoping.

So.  We left home this afternoon (well, yesterday afternoon) around three, headed to Boston to pick Meg up on the way to New York.  We had to take Pete's big honkin' gas hog of a truck, because Gillian is moving the contents of her dorm room, wait, that makes it sound like there couldn't be very much to move, but really.  You would think we were moving the whole freaking dorm back, for all of the Rubbermaid containers and suitcases we will load into that truck.  It never ceases to amaze me, the amount of stuff that can be crammed into a hole in the wall dorm room.  Anyway, there we are, in the truck and as usual for travelling with me, we had plenty of bathroom breaks.  The only reason I mention it is because one of them was combined with a stop at a Panera in Connecticut, south of Hartford someplace.  Practically shaking with hunger I went in, used the facility (like that?  I could add detail if you want it), ordered our food to take out (we were in a hurry) and headed straight to the car.  I didn't look right or left, the need for protein was so great.  Pete hops in the truck and asks, "Did you see all of the knitters?"  WHAT!?  I missed the KNITTERS!!!!  What kind of a knitter does that make me?  The girls saw them, too!  A bunch of them, knitting out on a Thursday at a Panera and I missed the chance to look at them as I walked by.  Anybody out there reading that was at a Panera right off of 95 in CT last night?  I missed you!

We continue our journey, the light waning into that time just past dusk, when there is just the last little bit of light so that you can't really see anything, but it isn't pitch out yet.  In the center lane, surrounded by traffic, we are whipping right along when in the right lane I see a beautiful and potentially horrifying sight.  Two beautifully graceful geese are crossing the highway and I we get closer, going 75 mph, me with both palms to my temple screaming, "Don't hit them, Don't hit them!"  I see the babies.  Probably seven or eight goslings waddling into the highway to certain death.  We passed, the family had not made it to our lane yet, and I had a choice to make.  You see, my mind goes.  Usually to the worst possible scenario of any situation, it just goes, plays out the story in gory detail, and my mood goes with it.  But this time I decided to imagine the cars miraculously stopping and the new babies making it across the road (where, to be truthful, there was no place to go as this section of the highway is seperated by cement barriers, those birds were toast) and everyone living happily ever after.  Along I ride in my delusional state when several miles later a car passes us and pulls into our lane.  At first it took me a minute to register that there was something being dragged in the undercarriage of the car, but as the realization hit, and my delusions blew away like so many feathers, I had to hide my eyes in shock.  I didn't want to look, but couldn't help it for some reason, that beautiful thing being dragged in our headlights for miles.  I couldn't help but think that all of those hours spent sitting on the nest were for waste, the whole little group gone in an instant.

Then my mind went immediately to a childhood memory.  My mom was driving in highway traffic, and I have this feeling that it was from the airport.  Those were the days when families had only one car and when my dad travelled we would drop him off and pick him up from the airport in Baltimore or Washington D. C.  I'm in the back seat and we are driving, bumper to bumper, on a three or four lane highway, when a family of ducks begins to cross the highway.  People were looking and pointing, autos were slowing down, some were trying to stop, when, and this part is really blurry to me, the ducks walked in front of our car and my mom ran over some of them.  I remember being stunned, but conflicted.  You know how, when you are around seven or eight, that your mom is a super-hero?  That she is lovely and loving and does everything for you and she could never do anything wrong?  I thought that she could have stopped, we weren't going that fast.  Or were we?  She would have stopped if she could have, right?  There were people in other cars (it was a very warm day, windows were down) screaming at my mother.  I remember one man in particular, with long hair and a moustache, yelling at my mom for killing some of those birds.  I think I sided with the other people for a minute and asked my mom what she did?  Why did she run over them?  I don't remember her answer clearly, but something about the highway traffic and it would be dangerous to stop right there, so maybe we were going faster and my memory is in slow motion.  I have thought of that day over the years, but would never bring it up to my mom.  I wonder if she remembers it.  I'm afraid bringing it up might make her sad, so I never do.  That little conflicted girl still lives in me, wondering, was my mom right?  Were those people yelling at her right?  I clearly remember feeling really bad that that man yelled at my mom, with such vitrol it turned him road-rage ugly.  It is funny to me, that even today, with the added tool of adult reasoning, I still can't work it all out.

Here is one last final truth, another conundrum, and this might make you stop liking me for a minute or longer.  Here's the thing.  While I mourn that family of geese, as beautiful as they are, I also cannot get over that they are nasty dirty things that infest public areas and poop all over them, making them inhabitable for humans.  I, like my grandmother before me with her pigeons (she would knock their nests off her house), would fight a war to keep my yard clean.  Watch, I'll get home from New York and find a family has mistaken our pool for a pond and moved in.  It wouldn't be the first time.

Three hundred thirty to go.  I'm so glad I'm not that woman, getting home and finding a huge goose under my car.  I found a bat stuck to my windshield once, ewww.  That's enough.           

The HaulThe Non-fiber Stuff

The vendors at the fairs are not always carrying just fiber wares.  Often there are fiber related things and other artisans, peddling their wares.  I often wonder how well they make out at these festivals.  Are the attendees focused only on the fiber they can't find the rest of the year or are they in enough of a spending frenzy that they will buy other things that strike their fancies?  I don't know what it is for me, although I did go intending to purchase this:

I had purchased the blue mug in the backround last year in Cummington and I love it. So much so that when I have company for tea and have to offer it to my friend, I get a little possessive over it. I know, weird, I have many great mugs, so I don't even know why this matters. Anyway, I got this mug from The Spinner's Hill booth, and that is all I know about the pottery there. There are a lot of different pieces that are extremely reasonably priced. I have to work hard not to start a collection.

For the second year Judy and her Ball and Skein yarns have shared space with Leslie Wind, a jeweler who creates wonderful shawl pins, pins, earrings..... you know, jewelry. Heh. I was talked into these earrings even though I couldn't get one through my right earlobe. I haven't tried to push an earring through it in at least a couple of years, but with encouragement from the crowd I came home and after a shower I worked a post through my lobe. There weren't tears (I'm pretty tough), but I am keeping a close watch for infection, as it is pretty sensitive at the moment. It will still be awhile before I am able to wear those beauties, but I will, along with earrings that my sister gave me, which Erin is trying to steal. "Mom, you never wear earrings anymore, and you won't wear dangly ones!" Oh, yes I will!

My last stop of the weekend, on the way to the car, was the tea guy. I got my fourth iced tea of the weekend from him, and it was the last he sold, I got the rest of the ice and the iced greet tea. It was delicious, no sweetener, just mint. Refreshing and cool and helped keep me awake for the ride home. I also bought loose leaf tea, I highly recommend the Feather Tip and the Dragon Well and I can't wait to try more. The iced tea went well with the bag of kettle corn I got along the way out. That day was the worst. I actually ate a hotdog on a white bread roll. Ugh. I must've been really hungry.

Well, that's that.  A little more than a week before Cummington, plenty of time to work out a budget for that festival, right?

Two hundred thirty-one to go.  The fiber up there on the Grafton spindle is from the Spirit Trail fiber club, a blend of alpaca, merino and silk.  Yummy.  And it matches the spindle.  :)

The HaulWarning: If Blue Isn't Your Thing, Then You Can Move Right Along

My budget was just about blown in the first hour.  The truth is, my budget wasn't as much as I have allowed myself in the past, so it didn't take much to spend it right quick and I did go over it just a little bit later in the day.  For now I have only photographed the fiber bit of the haul, tomorrow I'll show you a couple of other little things I picked up.

The first place I went was the Grafton Fiber booth.  It is well known that the batts produced at GF are wonderful and I have a couple that I have been spinning that I love.  Since they aren't producing the batts the way they used to I wanted to scoop up another while I had the chance. 

There is a bit more turquoise than I could capture on film, so to speak

As I was leaving I saw this baby:

See the little moon on the side there? This also has more green in it than I could get.I was drawn to the blue shaft on it.

Then I wandered around, not really thinking I would buy anything else until I visited the Foxfire Fibers booth. And Barb had done some truly luxury batts. As I picked over what was left (Manise let me know that she had already bought all of the really good blue ones.......way to rub in my tardiness!) I finally settled on this one:

Pretty blue with mauve, but the blend of BFL, cashmere and silk with a little angelina feels so luscious, it could be any color. Just gorgeous.

Then I found this Grafton spindle at the Foxfire booth:

So pretty! So blue!Everyone was so charmed that the spindle matched my fiber!

And look how it turns purply it turns when viewed from an angle. Is the fiber shopping finished? Almost. I am so lucky that friends have my back. Cheryl had made it to the Foxfire booth ahead of me and seeing the feeding frenzy attempted to call me on the phone that I had left in the car. When she couldn't reach me she went ahead and bought this for me:

I'm so lucky, I have friends that I don't deserve, the really thoughtful ones.

I think that is that. Now I really need to spin, spin, spin!

Two hundred thirty-two to go.  Tomorrow the non-fiber festival fix!

Ten on Tuesday

Ten Things You're Really Good At.

1. Laundry.  "I am the laundry queen!  Not so sweet, way past seventeen!"  Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.
2. Daydreaming.
3. Remembering advertising jingles.
4. I have an unbelievable knack for finding the one seat next to a person that will annoy the hell out of me.  Every.Single.Time.  In the movies, at a play, or (and this isn't sitting) in line at the store.  The talkers, the crinklers, the loud chewers.  There I'll be.  Remember, don't sit next to me or you will be sitting next to the annoying ones too.
5. Procrastinating.  I'm really, really good at this.
6. Cleaning.  I'm so thorough that I just never get started, because I obsess and it takes too long.  So the place is always a mess.
7. Ignoring the mess.
8. Sarcasm.  I try to hold it in most of the time, but you can be sure I'm thinking it.
9. Getting songs stuck in my head and sharing them with my family for days.  They really love that best about me. (see?  Sarcasm.  You never know if what you read here is my real feeling or sarcasm.)
10. I asked Erin, "What is something I'm really good at that drives you crazy?"  Her response:  "Ummm......  Simply driving me crazy."  Heh.  She is a laugh riot a minute, I can't imagine where she gets it.

Two hundred thirty-three to go.  After almost seven months, I'm still really good at forgetting to post to this blog until the last second of every day.  Will that ever change, or is it the habit I developed in 21 days?

Alpacas Being Intentionally Uncooperative

I always love the blog photos of animals after fiber shows.  It has been my habit to forget about the animals until after I leave and then regret having no photos.  So this trip I decided that the alpacas, being so photogenic, would be wonderful subjects for practicing with the settings on my camera.  The alpacas though, they weren't as into it as I was.

They turn their heads.They decide they're hungry.They go for a run.

Then, when I get all stealth and try to sneek up on them from on direction:

They all turn en masse. And they just cannot be tricked from the other side either.See?

After much persistance on my part, this baby decided she (or he, who knows?) was ready for her close up.

"Make sure to get my best side."

I was clearly not having the same luck that Grumperina was having with the alpaca population. Whatever, I turned my attention to some other stuff. Like yarn.

From Barb Parry as I shoot: "It sure is hard getting those skeins of yarn to sit still for a picture, isn't it?" Wise guy.

And spindles:

I still haven't photographed the little bit that I brought home, but I do need stuff for the rest of the week.

Two hundred thirty-four to go. Getting the yarn to sit still was easier than the spindles. They must have taken their cue from the alpacas.

Mother's Day Weekend Means

New Hampshire Sheep and Wool. It was a great weekend, but really. How different can a post about this weekend be than last year's or a Rhinebeck post, or a Maryland post......... Well, it probably can't, but here are a couple of things.

There was a Fleece to Shawl Competition

Lots of pictures were taken by lots of people. The fun of this should be turning up around blogville pretty soon. Those reports will probably include:

The blue ribbon that was wonWon by a team of pajama clad goofballs women
Spinning and weaving an interpretation of
Starry Night by Van Gogh
Interpretation by the Gogh Goghs

I'll share a little bit more about the weekend during the week. I didn't take a lot of photos, but a few are fun. And yes. I bought a couple of things, and while I'm sure none of you really care, I always like to look at what other people get, and this is at least a record of that, the blog. For when I totally forget what the heck I'm spinning or knitting.

Two hundred thirty-five to go. Paint your palate blue and grey.....

I Have Been Singing This Song All Day!Can't Get It Out of My Brain,So Now You Get It, Too!

Some of us, of a certain age, wait, scratch that. I have a feeling that most of us, no matter how old we are, have memories of Neil Diamond. My mom played that Hot August Night album over and over, I could probably sing and recite every word. It is a part of the soundtrack of my life in a way that, when I hear the songs, I get all happy and weepy at the same time. Song Sung Blue has a way of pulling even the staunchest of non-singers into a resounding belting of the chorus. And really, isn't it true? "Then before you know it, you start to feelin' good. You've simply got no choice!" So smile and sing it out!

Two hundred thirty-six to go. "Me and you, are subject to, the blues now and then. But when you take the blues and make a song, you sing 'em out again. You sing 'em out again!"

Lists

In The News:

1. Guess who is having another baby.
2. And baby makes twenty! (Not my quote, but cute, right?)
3. I know it isn't any of my business how many kids they have, but COME ON!
4. I don't care how organized you are, nobody can parent this many kids they way kids need to be.
5. I think that siblings are important, even great, but they aren't a substitute for parents.
6. And they shouldn't have to be.
7. I wonder if it will make the news when one of those kids rebels.
8. I wonder if the Duggars will be given any grandchildren.
9. Or if the kids are getting over their parenting right now, helping raise their sibs.
10. Pretty soon, they are going to run out of "J" names.
11. I could go on forever on this subject, but like I said, none of my business, effects my life in no way at all.
12. Except to make me thankful for vasectomies.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame......

1. Last week our family went to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play the Blue Jays.
2. The Red Sox lost.
3. The game itself was actually a snooze.
4. But we had fun anyway.
5. I observed some things that night.
6. While it is said that Fenway Park is one of the worst stadiums in the league, there isn't another with its charm, that is for sure.
7. No matter how filled the seats of the stadium may seem, there are still just as many people waiting to plow you down on the way to the rest room or to get a hotdog.
8. I didn't have a hotdog.
9. I chose a sandwich from the "Healthy Choice" cooler. 
10. It was a wrap with one leaf of lettuce, two paper thin slices of tomato, a portion of a slice of american cheese and a few slices of deli turkey breast.
11. I only ate the tomato thins and the turkey.
12. I wish I'd had the hotdog.
13. Then to make myself feel better I got Cracker Jacks.





14. The Cracker Jacks ($4.50!) came in a bag, not a box and the prize stunk.
15. The prize was a quiz question/factoid thingee.
16. A better blogger would remember what it was.
17. Most people don't go to the game to watch it.
18. They go to talk to their friends on cell phones.
19. While Erin didn't talk, she did send a fair amount of text messages, one in the form of a photo of the game, sent to a bunch of her friends.
20. She immediately got a reply that said:  "You're here too!?"
21. It was fun searching each other out and waving.
22. Pete turns into everyone's dad when going out like this.
23. He is anxious to get to his seat, he thinks we left too late and are going to hit traffic (duh, it's Boston), he got edgy waiting for Meg to meet us, and he would walk ahead of us, lose us in the crowd and then turn trying to get us to move faster.  It was funny.
24. That night out cost us our entertainment budget for a few months.
25. While I missed the television commentary and still think the best seat for a game is my couch, I can't wait to go again.

Two hundred thirty-seven to go.  Rain, rain, go away...