A Curious Mixture of Temptation and Apathy

I'm headed down to Milwaukee in a bit to retrieve my portfolio from the law firm of my employment hopes, and to meet a friend for a drink. I was supposed to start this adventure earlier today by meeting another friend for a quick knitting lesson and a little mutual jobless commiseration - she was downsized on Friday, too - but she called to say that she had been on the phone with the unemployment compensation people for an hour already and wasn't going to make it.

The thing is, I now feel like I have to go get that portfolio (so as to have it handy for my next interview and all), but it feels like a long way to drive just to walk in and grab a binder. And a quiet beer with a friend is nice and all, but again - it's more of an "I was in the neighborhood" kind of thing. And so I keep mentally running over the other things I could do while I was in the City. Wander through the art museum? (No, costs money. I'm unemployed and on a tight budget, remember?) Stop by the Market for some fresh oysters or something equally delicious and difficult to acquire elsewhere? (No. Same reason.) Visit Ruhama's, just to see what might be on clearance in the yarn bins? (No. Be serious; that place is like crack. If I go, I will buy something. Best to stay at least 5 miles away at all times.)

Sigh.

It's just a little scary, is all.

My office is cleaned up and packed up, and I took the plants and a small load of stuff home today. The bulletin board has been converted from a staging area for my mental process to a clean expanse, ready for the next tenant. Tomorrow I'll be hauling out the last boxes of my professional books, personal materials, framed diplomas and photos, and all the rest of the things that made that space "my" office. It already looks very barren, even though I'm leaving the cheap bookcase and the adobe-colored curtain I found in a clearance bin 16 months ago. (Seriously - what am I going to do with it?) I've had some very solemn moments, and I suspect that if Rick was home I'd be crying on his shoulder. Maybe tomorrow.

I Just Don't Want to Play Today

Actually, all I seem to want to do is mope, watch tv, and play Chains in an apathetic sort of way. And eat cookie dough.

Suddenly it hits me

Rick's been gone since early Monday morning. Normally I can still talk to him by cell and e-mail, but with him buried in the mountains somewhere, his cell phone is crappy even at the hotel. So I've only spoken to him a few times this week - just enough to hear he's had some problems on the job, and won't be back until Saturday after dinner. I'm starting to really miss him.

Then I was doing my daily check of family blogs, and read Julie's description of the California nephews and their apple-picking trip. (The PB&J link is at left.) I can just imagine Tubby toddling around in his warm mama-knit wool pants, proudly carrying an apple or two. I really miss all of those little guys.

Then Nora put her soft muzzle into my lap this morning and inquired about breakfast. I still think we made the right decision; I have to be careful and watch her expression even while I'm petting her ears, in case her switch flips and she decides I'm too far past her boundaries. But I'm really going to miss her.

I'm sensing a theme here.

Hat for an Independent Baby

Okay, after a few false starts, here's my progress on the stars & stripes baby hat. 72 stitches on size 4 double-pointed needles (cause that's what I had handy), with about 3" of two color rib. I'm up to the crown now, and will let you know how that goes tomorrow.

By the way, I'm pretty open about my life and my family, and assume that readers will either have positive thoughts for us or keep their opinions to themselves. I started moderating comments after spam links started appearing there, and this morning I found a rather snarky - and anonymous - remark about my son. And so,

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Dear Anonymous,

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On the topic of acting mature and being responsible,

please remember the first thing your mother taught you:

If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all.

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Sincerely,

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A Mother Who Is Very Proud Of Her Son

Boo, Continental Airlines! Hiss!

Rick should be home right now. Instead, he's checked into a crappy hotel room in Houston, trying to sleep in between the roar of jets taking off nearby, and knowing he'll have to be up at the crack of dawn to go back to the airport to try again.

He was there, at the gate, at 3:30 this afternoon - hours before his flight was supposed to leave. He sat in those uncomfortable chairs and waited for hours, getting up to check the monitors occasionally to make sure his flight was still on time and all. Everything looked okay, and the gate sign said all the right things. He was starting to wonder why they hadn't boarded him yet, so he got up again to check the monitor - and they'd moved his flight to a different gate! In a different terminal! And made no announcement! He rushed up to the gate and said he would run to the new gate, but they told him not to bother - the plane was already late, and they refused to let him board. (And he wasn't the only one. There was a crowd of travelers sitting there, stunned to find out their plane was still at the airport and knew it was missing a group of passengers, but was insisting on leaving without them anyway.) Rick pitched a fit, as you can imagine, and Continental did not one thing to make it better. Not even an apology!

So Rick is sitting in Houston. His bag of tools, which would cost many dollars to replace, is circling the conveyor belt in Milwaukee. His truck, which I needed for farmer's market in the morning, is in the Milwaukee airport parking lot. His side of the bed is empty. And I am not happy with Continental.

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Ups and Downs

Last night I worked on this project for a client that involved tracking people down and interviewing them, then documenting their comments. I was hoping for 4 and I got 7, which made me feel like freakin' Erin Brokovich. (Without the bustier - although one guy told me I had pretty eyes and tried to give me a puppy.) Then I came home, had a nice dinner with Rick, and got back to prep for the farmer's market, which starts in 10 days.

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I finished the 5th bottle cover (black wool with bright rainbow cotton) last night and started the 6th (deep blue with colorwork waves in a variegated light/medium blue). Hopefully I'll have a half-dozen done by tonight, at which point I'll switch over and try that fiber necklace concept again. This weekend I need to inventory the various photography prints in stock, see what else should be printed, update my portrait book and make some signage for the booth. I'm hoping my new canopy actually gets delivered today or tomorrow, so I can try setting it up in the driveway for a reality check. I also think I'm going to buy a 4' x' 8 panel of white lattice and have Rick split it lengthwise, so I can use it as a backdrop for the booth and hang merchandise from it with s-hooks. All these things are very exciting.

On the other hand, Tasha leaves today for camp. She's stressed out and wound tight, which shows in her attitude - and I am too, which shows in mine. I seem to be internalizing a lot of stress related to this, especially after a rather robust discussion about schedules and rides last night. My stomach hasn't been upset like this since the time Rick was in ICU. I know it will all work out - I just don't like having to deal with it in the interim.

Oh, and the news from Weight Watchers continues to be a bit disheartening, in spite of my best efforts. I put two and two together, called the pharmacy, and confirmed that a side effect of my new medication is weight gain!!! Great, just great.

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I'm trying to think serene thoughts here. I wonder if I can get a prescription for knitting therapy, so as to take mandated work breaks with my needles?

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Roadblocks

You wouldn't think something like this would be intimidating. I mean, you're looking at some luscious wool, all paid for and ready to rock, which is intended to be the anniversary prayer shawl. The buttery yellow is being used for the center panel (already done) and strips of embossed leaves on each of the ends; the fun variegated stuff will be the leaf lace in between.
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But I keep worrying that the panels will pucker when I join them, whether that's done by picking up stitches or seaming the individual pieces. And I found the leaf lace pattern to be just frustrating enough during the swatch process that I keep putting it off until I can give it my full attention. And in the interim, I keep making dishcloths. I don't need dishcloths right now, although somewhere in about the middle of the third one I rationalized that I could send them to camp with Tasha this summer. And I'm using a yarn that, along with a solid red, made a beautiful "tomato plant" colored shawl last summer. (Trust me; it was pretty. The lady who bought it liked it so much that she came back to the booth two weeks later and asked me to duplicate it for her friend, who otherwise was threatening to steal the original.) But without the strong red undertones from the accompanying plain red yarn, it's pretty wild stuff that would probably stand out in most settings. (Okay - stand on the furniture jumping up and down and screaming.)
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Anyway, I've finished three cloths in various basic patterns, and have promised myself that I will not start a fourth until the shawl is done. (It's due in 3 1/2 weeks!) I have choir tonight, but should be able to get a good start on it after work on Thursday. I'll keep you posted.
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And under the category of "Rick Appreciation": Luc's replacement car is now on the road. I'd show you a picture, but Luc was off with it to work the morning after we flew in, and has driven it to class or work every day since. It still desperately needs an alignment, but I believe Luc is planning to dedicate his next paycheck to that. I had a quiet conversation with him this morning to remind him to take his time, be safe, file a flightplan, etc. Hopefully this one will last him a good long time.

And on to the next one: Tasha's Celica is now officially in work. Rick is a bit grumpy that Tasha hasn't been appreciating his efforts enthusiastically enough. I mentioned to her last night (and

she agreed) that regular doses of brownies and freshly-brewed iced tea should be administered throughout this process.

Grrrrr . . .

It's always when you're really feeling good that things slam you the worst. I had a very upsetting meeting at church council last night, and right now I have a headache from grinding my teeth all night. ("We only help people on our side of the county, because we were getting too many requests." "We can't do something nice and harmless and painless on this person's special occasion, because we've never done it before." "Is the constitution clear on how we can strip someone of their membership if we can't get them to shut up?") I can't decide whether to go on a holy war all by myself, quit in disgust, or just play Alan Parsons Project's "In The Lap Of The Gods" really loud, over and over again, like I did when I was angry in college.
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In any case, it's a good thing I had my knitting going, or I might have been tempted to use those needles for something much less appropriate. Here are my swatches of "Spring Arbor" and the beginnings of "Orchid Lace." One thing I've learned is that Orchid Lace is best done when you can actually count consistently. I missed a yarn over somewhere during last night's discussion, and ripped out 10 rows this morning to fix it.
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Blue Day

Did you ever have one of those days where it's kind of a struggle to do what you're supposed to be doing? Where you feel kind of bummed out, but with no clear idea why? Where you keep losing your train of thought, and staring out the window, and all you really want to do is go hide somewhere away from the world with some mindless entertainment and a box of bonbons?

Yeah, I'm having one of those.