Holed up in a corner of Juno’s chesterfield couch in NJ, (carding polworth and shetland with Juno and Cassie is an extraordinary way to spend a day off.) I sat here not more than an hour or two ago and told Kelli-the-wonder-publicist that not only were things on the road good, that they were perfect. Really perfect. I had navigated the airports with success, I had met charming cab drivers. Amanda had come home from NYC safe, and I had spoken with her on the phone. The events had been great, the knitters charming and the coffee excellent. All of my hair had not fallen out simultaneously while I was public speaking (I worry) I had not yet left an expensive computer cable in a hotel room (my specialty) and despite learning (rather sadly) that the fly on my new pants doesn’t like to stay up, I have managed, through careful vigilance and paranoia, to not give a talk standing up in front of a whack of knitters with my panties showing. I was sitting here, really feeling pretty smug, when I plugged in my digital camera to tell you about Pittsburgh and Doylestown and my new sock (Life was too short for the pastel garter stitch baby jacket that wasn’t even knit long enough for me to show you.) and show you pictures of all of that when the planet decided to dish a little balance.
The computer refuses to acknowledge the existence of the camera.
Just a little smackdown to keep me humble. More later, when I can get the thing to do my bidding. For now, Juno and I are going to ricochet out of her house to go to Loop. (Ann and Kay were there Friday. They have to be a hard act to follow.) I’m hoping the camera is all my life has planned for me in the way of evening up the score.