One for the open road

I have a new approach to the crushing amount of overwork that’s in my life until the 30th of this month. Compartmentalization. Instead of doing what I usually do, which is essentially melt down all over the house, and tell Joe that I’ll have chips for breakfast if I want (I’m writing a book!” is the rational for all manner of bad behaviour during this last phase) I’m going to try allotting a certain amount of time for all of the things I have to do. When the time is up, the time is up, no excuses, no procrastination, no moving time around, no running away from home with only my visa, a fake name and the wide open road before me.

So far, so good, I have writing times, parenting times (although that is really hard to schedule) blogging times, complaining times and yes, a little knitting time, though it’s sort of sparse. (This is the worst part. Knitting relieves a lot of stress for me and gives me thinking time that I find really helps me make sense the rest of the time. Without as much knitting time as I’m used to, I find myself really wrung out, absent and, well. Crabby. This crabbiness is compounded by knowing that I’ve done this to myself, and that’s something I’m trying to gloss over in case it starts the inefficient self-beration again.) Mostly I’m able to stay on the schedule, although I did accidentally cry during some of my writing time and so I had to stay up later. (I worry that that one is a cycle.) This block is blog time and when it’s done it’s done. So let’s boogie.


Imagine a photo of a slightly larger shropshire shawl here. I can’t find the stinking camera.

Bigger. Maybe even big enough, I’m still not sure. I’m starting to think about taking it off the needles so I can get a better idea. Each repeat is 24 rows but the border I’ve chosen is 50 rows so….I’m not sure where I’m going with that. Something mathematical that I just can’t consider right now. Some. The border will add some. You know what I mean.

Gansey? Er, right. Can we pretend there is no Gansey for 12 hours? (Gansey? What gansey?)

Trip? Right. Eau Claire.

This was a day. A real day. I got in from the big fun Los Altos event at about 11:30, looked at my itinerary for the next day, took a deep breath, installed my patented triple alarm system, (Set alarm on clock radio, set alarm on cell phone, call downstairs for wake-up call.) and lay down on the bed in my clothes to avoid losing time to undressing. Said system worked and at FOUR AM (there are not words.) I got up and called room service to get coffee so that I would have the strength to leave. There then followed the shocking news that room service did not begin until 5:30am (I hates them.) and I recall little after that. I know I arrived at the airport. I know I checked in. I know I bought a coffee that they took away two seconds later in the security line, and I know I bought a coffee after security that they took away from me two seconds after that because the plane was boarding. I may or may not have cried on the plane when they decided not to serve drinks for the first half of the flight because the seat belt sign was on. (I may or may not have written a blog post about Jayme the-new-wonder-publicist in which I wondered at some length if she liked me.) I arrived, (delayed) I got in another car (which drove forever. It was a long way and the driver was lost.), and exactly 10 hours and 30 minutes after I got up in the morning, (plus a two hour time change) I arrived in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, just in time to go right back out the door to the event. I admit that I may have been just a little, well…worn, when I got there, but my wonderful hosts at Yellow Dog Knitting (terrific spinning fibre selection at this store.) gave me coffee (right away. Brilliant.) and they brought the knitters.

Hold up your socks Eau Claire!




I had a helper too. As I stood on the stage, a wee somebody ran down the aisle and popped up next to me and helped me take sock pictures. (Kathryn has a great picture of this.) She was a charming wee soul. Charming, and the daughter of Jess. (I have an especially soft spot for toddlers that aren’t mine.)


There was Cori and her muggle husband. (Muggle not shown. He dodged the camera.)


There was Chris and Jeanne and Deb


and Meleah and Vicki were there too. (So many knitters I’ve always wanted to meet. I know these pictures are probably boring for you guys, but I have to tell you that it’s really exciting for me to meet so many knitters I read.)

Look! It’s Shelly! Remember how we all sent her all that sock yarn for her blankie? (She’s got a great post about this stop) She’s making good progress.


There was Tipper (Go look at the great sock circle the knitters had), Stephania, Roxanne, Sarah who had the sweetest overall socks…wait, here’s a picture.


Knittymama (and knittybaby, cute as a button.) Cursingmama, and the lovely and charming Cindy, bearer of a Wisconsin washcloth.


Noted for coolest giftie? Beadslut. She turned up looking like a million bucks and presented me with a poster of every knitting Olympics button she could find. Super, super, super cool.

God look at her site to see a photo. I’ll wait.


Barb. Our lovely model Barb is wearing a beautiful sweater handspun and hand knit from her very own sheep (The dearly departed Tim the sheep included.) She is accessorized with stashweasel and sock.


Dale-Harriet and her badger stuff. (It’s a Wisconsin thing. I thought Wisconsin was about cheese, but it’s badgers, or maybe badgers and cheese. Unclear.)


Joyce Williams. Yes. That Joyce Williams. People kept talking to her and using her name just like she was a real person and not a goddess. Very unusual. See the sweater she’s wearing? Take me now, it’s one of the mind boggling chart ones from her book. I am really not worthy, but there she stood.


It was the best time. Really grand, and Dixie and her team of knitters pulled it together like a dream. I’d go back in a heartbeat.