PoMo Golightly

Stash Give-away

Oh, ye of little faith, take it easy.  It's not the whole stash I'm giving away, just a few nice bits of it.

It's not an "I'm a loser" give-away going on here; it's a celebratory one.

I finished my draft.  That's right.  I finished one entire, complete draft of my dissertation.  That's a novella and three short stories.  And I'm finished.  Woo-effing-hoo!  I may graduate from this program before I turn 40 after all!

Since I'm so freaking happy about this, I'm going stash diving later today, and I'll find three fantastic skeins to share with my lovely, encouraging readers.  How to choose, how to choose?

Here's how.  Tell me what your dream is.  The one you could see yourself achieving, but just haven't been able to start.  Believe me, I know about not being able to start on dreams; it took me about ten years to get up the courage to apply to MFA programs, and I'm so grateful I got the nudge I needed to do so.  Here's another option.  Did you get a nudge that worked?  Are you heading confidently towards your dream?  Tell me about that.

I'll select three stories and award them with skeins of yarn from my stash.  It won't be the cashmere from Rome, but I promise it will be good.

Tour de Loser

I was optimistic.  I signed on for the Green Jersey at the Tour de France KAL.  I was distracted by too many projects, though, and to date, my progress is minimal.  I will continue on, though, and I will wear the Chickami before the end of the summer.

I didn't even start with my Tour de Fleece project.  I hang my head in shame.  I was a zealous joiner at the start of the summer, but all of my energy has gone to writing my dissertation draft.  I vow to organize my time and to limit my joining things I'm not prepared to really dedicate to.

But it is important that I meet my goal of finishing a first draft of my dissertation by the end of July.  See, I made another little vow that I'm finally prepared to make public.  If I do not finish the first draft by my target date, I will give away my yarn stash.

Even that cashmere I bought in Rome.

Stop hovering around you vultures and hyenas.  This is one goal I intend to keep.

Vacation is Over

I had my first ride on the Staten Island Ferry and ate my first Ethiopian food.  Even a seasoned New Yorker can find something new to do on a return visit.

Dana and Mike's visit was a blast.  I enjoyed playing the tour guide in the big city, even if I did end up with six blisters.  I wore what are normally my best-summer-walking-shoes-that-are-not-my-sneakers, but it was the first wearing of the year (I'm totally into my flip-flops this summer), hence the injuries.

Over the weekend we had our party.  Originally this was going to be our reception that enabled us to celebrate our wedding with more people than the small group invited to the ceremony.  By the time we got around to planning it, though, we were both so over wedding stuff, so it was re-imagined as a swank bbq bash.  I'm waiting on better pictures from my sister, but until then, I've got this one from our set up.  There were tiny lights all along the tents, the flowers were agreeably showy, and the food seemed to go over well.  The highlight for little ones was the egg toss.  I did not participate, although I did manage to sneak in some dancing once the sun was down.  My mom suggested that we do this as an annual event, which may just happen.

We wrapped up our visit with a wet day in Boston.  Notice I wore my FDNY cap, just so there could be no confusion regarding my loyalty.  That said, we walked through the North End at a time when none of us were hungry.  A tragedy to be amended with a trip back to Boston for an eating fiesta.  Before our trip I asked Dave to recommend a restaurant in the North End, and he said that any would do; if they weren't good, they'd be closed.  I can't wait to get back there for a long, filling dinner.

That's my report from my Internet-free week.  Before I post this though, I want to ask you to read this statement.  On Monday in a nearby town, there was a tragic and brutal event.  The family is in my thoughts, and I'm impressed with their graceful statement.  I hate the ugliness, the brutality, but I love that there is grace in the world to counter it.

Don't Miss Me While I'm Gone!

My pal Dana and her husband arrive this evening from Albuquerque to spend the weekend.  We'll be in NYC, my favorite city on earth (of the ones I've met), tomorrow.  Friday is prep day for the BBQ Bash, and Saturday is the Bash.  We're expecting a small crowd of our family and close friends and neighbors, and I'm super excited about the whole weekend.  On Sunday we're taking our company to Boston, and Dave's been kind enough to send some recommended sights.  I haven't been there since the last time my ex-fiance (hi, K.K.!) (yes, he found my blog ages ago.  Time I gave him a shout out.  Maybe I should give him a link.  Do you want me to link to you?) took me in, oh, 1989 or so?  Did you know I was engaged to someone before I married my ex?  Do you see how my mind wanders when I'm so excited?

Focus, Beverly.  Dana and Mike have never been to the Northeast before, and while there isn't enough time for me to show them all of New England's glory, I figured that our two great cities (sorry, one is slightly greater to me, but I don't want to start any fights.  Yes, I root for the Yankees.  Sue me.) will give them a taste of how we do it here.  We sprawl into the sky as the land is so limited, whereas out west, Albuquerque in particular (it's the city I know best out there), spills out onto the seemingly endless land. 

I haven't been to NYC since I moved in 2004, and I think I'm just as excited to see her again as I am about this visit.  She got into my blood in my 14 years of living in Westchester, and I've missed her.

No segue that I can figure out makes sense here, so I'll just dive into my exciting postal delivery today.  I ordered a WooLee Winder for my Lendrum two days ago, and it's here already!  I'm stunned and delighted by the fast service, but it will likely be next week before I have time to try it out.

Which makes a good segue for me to say that I'm not likely to be online too much for the next week.  I'll catch you when I'm back and hope you have a great week.

Maybe I Only Amuse Myself

There was potential for darkness today.  I wanted to visit one of my favorite bloggers while she's in the U.S., but my schedule just doesn't allow it.  I know, though, that we'll meet up some day, and I'm secretly hoping that it will mean a trip to Germany in my future.

I just called the dogs in (I typed gods, first, but, alas, the gods don't come in when I call), and when Maddie bounded onto the deck, I sang out, in my loudest of loud voices, "Here she comes, Miss America..."  Then I sort of remembered that I have neighbors who might wonder at that burst of music.  I rounded up the girls, got them inside, and I laughed at myself.  Darkness dispelled by silliness. 

What silly things do you find yourself doing?

Messing with My Mojo

Sit right back for a tale of woe.  Because, really, aren't tales of woe the more interesting ones?  Don't pull out any tissues; things aren't that bad.

I was in a funk yesterday.  Perhaps the weather did it, perhaps yet another visit to my dentist (although everyone there is quite pleasant, I'd rather not spend any more time with them), perhaps just mid-week doldrums.  In any event, I popped in a movie (Saving Grace, should you want details) and set to work on Chart B of Clue 1 of the Mystery Stole 3.  I made some good progress, I'll have you know, but I had to put the scrap of lace down for the dogs' afternoon stroll (I don't say or write walk.  They'll know and expect it to happen pronto!), but after a delish salad prepared by my darling husband, I settled in to continue with the Mystery.  I had some knitting mojo, and I was smart enough to be humble about it.  "Oh, lovely," said I.  "I've got the right number of stitches."  And, "Isn't it grand that I'm able to keep track of the row I'm on?  Aren't I fortunate?"  The knitting gods like that sort of gratitude.

On goes disc one of the third season of Deadwood (oh, how I love this show.  I have such a crush on Al.  Don't tell me you don't have just a little one on him too, K.; I won't believe you).  Neal and I are happy as we recall each character's story from the end of season two.  Blink.  Off go the lights, then back on.  It is raining, after all, and a bit windy.  I return to my lace, about to start a new row, yet I hesitate.  Off goes the power.  On.  Then, for a final time, off. 

But, whine I, I have knitting mojo.  Lace knitting mojo.  This isn't to be squandered.  "Don't we have a generator or something," I ask Neal, my voice as persuasive as I can make it, as though my desire will make such a thing appear.  Negative.  We talk about the future for a while, but the entire time, my thoughts are elsewhere.  They are on Chart B, which was going so swimmingly back when I had electricity at my beck and call.  Finally, we toddle off to bed.  Neal pulls out his headlamp (one of my first gifts to him, may I add) to aid me in my evening ablutions.  As I brush my teeth, I see a lightbulb above my head, and it's not just the lit headlamp.  It's an idea. 

Why not knit using the headlamp?  I mention my thought, and it is promptly refused.  "You can't waste our only light source on knitting."  Waste?  WASTE?  I resist the urge to remind my husband (who does not, it would appear, understand knitting mojo) that there are plenty of candles about the house to use as light sources.  I'm afraid he would suggest that I use those to light my lace. 

Even I'm smart enough to know that would be taking my mojo too far.  I know its limits, and I won't mess with them.

I will, though, get a headlamp of my own.  My own personal back up lighting system for lace knitting/power outage emergencies.  You might consider it yourself.

Sweet moments

I'm on my chair, the one I bought seven years ago and only love more each time I sit in it.  Maddie is curled up next to me, her nose against my thigh, her breathing heavy as she settles into her mid-morning nap.  Tilly is snoozing on the footstool; the occasional sigh lets me know she's not quite asleep.  Laundry is spinning in the basement, and the hum of the dryer masks the sound of most of the traffic outside. 

It's too hot already for outside play, and I've got writing to do anyhow.  I'm just about finished with the second part (of three) of my dissertation novella.   Neal helped me figure out a problem I had with this section, and I had a great writing day because of it yesterday.  Today I'm going to have to make my protagonist do something really awful, and I dread it.  When I teach, I fall a little bit in love with my students; it's the only way I can describe the way I feel towards them.  When I write, I get that feeling for my characters, but it does them no good to shelter them, so I must let Clare be awful.  She'll be a better person for it in the end, I hope.

Today is my big trip to the dentist for my first filling.  I'm a wee bit nervous, but I'll bring Chickami to occupy my hands, and that should help me to keep calm.  I can always think back to this sweet moment with the pups if knitting doesn't do the trick.   

Thanks, and Some Comedy

Thanks, everyone, for your good wishes for my sister.  I e-mailed her and suggested that she read the comments, and I'm sure she'll be grateful.  I told her that Knitter-vibe is a powerful thing.

In the heat of New England July, Neal and I went with our friends (whom we affectionately call "the French") to see my darling Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors last night.  The play is so funny, and the actors did a good job with it.  There's little I like better in life than a picnic and Shakespeare in the summer.  What's your favorite summer fun?

Here's the Thing

More than once I've read on blogs the writer's musings about what is appropriate blog material.  I started my first blog, Wearing Black in New Mexico in part to join a Secret Pal swap, and in part to keep my friends and family in the east apprised of my life in the west.  I've written about some personal things, but there is, of course, a lot that doesn't go up here.  It's irritating when people don't understand that writers (I'd argue that all artists) have a persona.  I have a teaching persona (Alex Mundy meets Annie Sullivan, at least so I fancy), too, which from time to time I explain to my students.

I don't really get into writing about family stuff too much here.  It's not appropriate for me. It's not normally a part of my blogging persona.  Today, though, I need the karma/good wishes/prayers of anyone who is willing to give a moment of time.  I just got back home from a visit with my sister.  A few weeks ago I wrote about how my sister, M, had gone through a medical procedure that seemed to be as good as we could expect.  Well, it wasn't.  My sister had a tumor removed, and it was encapsulated, which was reason for relief.  After it was biopsied, though, it was found to have Stage 3 cancer in it.  Bye, bye relief.  Hello chemo and radiation.  M.'s treatments start in another week, and I hope you'll send a thought out between now and then that she'll be ok.  I'm an optimistic person; I believe she will be, but no harm in having some good, healthy energy heading her way, right?

Thanks, guys. 

The Girls are Back in Town

How happy am I about this?  I called Daniel Craig my "luvah" at SnB yesterday, and the gap in interests was obvious.  I may not "get" everything the gamer gang talks about, and clearly they don't get my SintheC refrences...but we'll always have the knitting in common!

If you're in the CT/MA area and are also a MS3-er, Laura at Creative Fibers is keeping the shop open for group lacing (sounds kinda hot, no?) from 6-9 p.m. every Friday in July.  I'll be there, and so will lots of other cool chicas.  Now if only there were going to be cosmos!