I have 15 minutes before classes start, I'm sitting in a hotel room ready to roll, and I'm nervous.
(This is Tacoma from my hotel window. I knew you were dying to see it.)
Those who read this blog have likely already worked out that I tend towards the "high strung" end of normal human behaviour, and this sort of thing flips me right out. (My natural response to this is to drink a great deal of coffee, which totally doesn't help, but that's another post.)
1. Atla, says to tell Nancy Bush that she loves her. Nancy was the first person I met when I got off the bus last night. I have a class with her today and I will tell her you love her. (Last night I told her I love her, and I may have accidentally gushed a bit, so there's chance she won't be speaking to the crazy little Canadian today, but I'll try. ) She seems very, very smart and nice, but surprisingly, there is no bright golden glow emanating from her, which I was really expecting, considering that she is a knitting goddess. My plan is to say nothing in her presence lest I screw up.
2. Suzanne Pederson, the co-ordinating genius who makes this retreat work is our new Olympic heroine. Last night when I realized that I had left the powercord for the laptop on the dining room table and that I had 22 minutes of battery time left (along with hundreds of un-entered olympians), Suzanne performed a spectacular magic trick and made one appear. I am so unbelievably grateful. All hail Suzanne, Official saviour of the knitting olympics.
3. I have borrowed this wheel from Suzanne for my class on spinning and knitting Estonian Lace.
I have no idea if I have put it together right. I hope I don't look stupid in front of Nancy Bush. She seems nice enough not to point and laugh at me.
4. There is no snow in Tacoma, and the parka I brought is ridiculous overkill. I saw a live, green fern. (I really can't get over that.)
5. I love this.
A knitting olympics button in ancient greek, made by Sara.
Sara is clearly insane, and totally my kind of person.