Heritage Wool

Yesterday, Shawn and I headed down the Northern Peninsula to Daniel's Harbour - about a 2.5 hour drive from Corner Brook.  To get there, we have to drive through Gros Morne, a World Heritage Site and National Park.  It is jaw-dropping beautiful, even with the grey, foggy weather.  Besides the amazing scenery, Gros Morne is famous for being home to many, many moose and it did not disappoint.

This was but one of the four moose we spotted on our drive (we also saw a fox with a rabbit in its jaws dash in to the bush).  This guy looks like a teenager who has just been kicked out of the house by his mom in his second summer - she has a new baby to care for so now this one is on is his own.  Later we saw a mother and very young baby - the smallest moose I have ever seen yet still the size of a pony.  It never fails to amaze to see these huge, awkward yet beautiful animals.

We were heading to Daniel's Harbour to collect 20 lbs of washed, uncarded wool from Newfoundland sheep raised there.  Well, we weren't collecting the wool directly from the sheep.  We were collecting it from a woman named Kay who runs a store in Daniel's Harbour and is a fellow fibre enthusiast.  

Shawn and I have been on the hunt for local wool for over a year now and this is our first success.  And what a success - the wool is gorgeous.  I might compare it to Shetland in qualities - not as fine as merino, not like Icelandic, nor as rough as Coopworth.  I spun a little on a spindle Kay had and it was definitely a keeper.  We are all looking forward to making yarn that we can say is 100% Newfoundand - Newfoundland wool, Newfoundland dyes, Newfoundland spun.  I think we are almost there.

Kay seemed to be happy to encounter two people who understood her excitement about all things wooly.  She said that her neighbors had started looking at her as if she had two heads with all her wool-related activities.  But we had a moment of true understanding - just smiling at each other.  We understand Kay, it's going to be alright.  And then Shawn and I gave her lots of tips for her new etsy shop (please check it out - she has wonderful, traditional Newfoundland knitted products).  

We gave her our dandelion dye recipe and we admired her many items for sale.

The yarn you see here is made from the same wool as we purchased yesterday.  Kay has it processed and dyed in PEI.  

Kay has gorgeous sweaters as well as quilts made by women in the community.  If you are passing through Daniel's Harbour, stop in and check it all out.  Her place is called "The Store" same as her etsy shop.

It is hard not to mention that yesterday, the temperatures were in the mid-40sF (around 5C).  It was quite windy as well.  In other words, it was COLD!  Hard to believe it is mid-June but then again, every year is like this - winter coats until the very end of June when you are just about to give up all hope of summer arriving.  It will, but it sure is short.

Here are some pictures of Daniel's Harbour.  A compelling place in its landscape, natural and otherwise.

I Love Uncle Scrooge

Over at Monkey Mind, James reminds us that today is Donald Duck's birthday.  I can never think about Donald and his family without thinking about this scene from Wilt Stillman's Last Days of Disco.

I'm no kindergarten teacher.

Sourdough Zazen

One lovely, if sometimes tricky, aspect of life in Gillams is the lack of schedule.  No racing out the door (mostly), few deadlines, and plenty of time to take on the things that are easy to push to the side when the day is filled with activities requiring hour-long subway rides and packed lunches.

One of the things that I lost along the way in the fall was my bread baking.  I could squeeze in the occasional focaccia but my sourdough starter was a non-starter.   It was rare that we enjoyed the delicious, unbeatable taste of homemade sourdough bread.

No so in Gilliams.  One of my first tasks was getting a new starter going.  Making a sourdough starter from scratch is quite simple but the number of ways it can go astray appear to be limitless, as I have learned through experience again and again.  So it is always with a little bit of wonder that I mix that first 1/2 cup of flour and 1/2 cup of water together.  

What will happen?  

One thing I have learned is that, even if it gets side tracked for a time, it will work out eventually.  Bread will happen, even if it is a good deal later than I had hoped or imagined.

Are you reading the metaphors for sitting zazen yet?

It is hard not to get metaphorical when dealing with sourdough.  Or zazen for that matter.

I am thinking metaphorically along these lines is because two of my friends and I are starting a sitting meditation group this summer and we have been discussing how to do it.  It turns out that my practice is the most "traditional" in that I am specifically attached to a Zen Center and following a specific tradition while my friends follow the teachings of a well-known Zen master but in a much more informal way.  

It also turns out that some might regard my practice as somewhat strict, although since I consider myself to be such a beginner it is hard not to laugh at applying this description to what I am up to.  I can appreciate, however, that what I am up to isn't for everyone and could even scare some people off.  So we are working out a sitting program that will be welcoming to all who might be curious without making them feel like they have entered something so foreign to their experience as to be completely off-putting.  

I think it is going to work out just fine, even if it doesn't evolve exactly as I might imagine.  

And it is so exciting to have a group to sit with, in whatever manner.  There is something so wonderful and powerful and mysterious in it.

We will just sit and let things ferment for a while.  Yum.

And here is a simple sourdough recipe, for those of a less metaphorical bent:

Begin by mixing 1/2 cup flour and 1/2 cup water together in a non-metal bowl large enough to hold at least four cups.  Let sit for 24 hours coved in plastic wrap (a damp cloth will work too but it has to be kept damp).  The next day, give the mixture a stir and add another 1/2 cup flour, 1/2 cup water and mix well.  Cover and let sit for 24 hours.  Repeat for another two days - you should notice bubbling and a fermenting smell that is not unpleasant.  If you start to get an unpleasant smell, dump out most of the starter and begin again using only about 2 TB of your original starter.

Once your starter is nice and bubbly and appears to be rising and falling with your additions of flour/water, you are ready to use it.  The night before you plan to bake, add 1 cup of flour to your starter.  It will lose its watery quality and become thicker - like a thick pancake batter.  Cover and let sit overnight (at least 8 hours).  In the morning, you should notice that it has risen and fallen and be very bubbly.  Stir it down and put all but about 2-3TB in a large mixing bowl.

To the remaining starter, add 1 cup flour and 1 cup water, mix well and cover.  If you don't plan on using it again within 48 hours, put it in the fridge where it will keep for a good long time.  You can re-activate it as above by adding flour/water the night before you plan to bake.

To the starter in the bowl, add 2 cups warm water.  Stir well.  Slowly begin to add flour, stirring it in completely as you add about 1/2 cup at a time.  After 1 1/2 cups have been added, add a TB of salt and stir well.  Continue to add flour until the dough begins to come away from the sides of the bowl.  Now, spread some flour on your counter top or kneading board and dump the dough out.  Knead while adding flour, but not too much - it should still be a little sticky.  When the dough is soft and resisiliant (like a baby's bottom!), then clean your mixing bowl, butter it up and put the dough in it.  Cover with a damp cloth and let sit for 2 hours.  It should double in size, approximately.  

After two hours are up, dump it out onto your counter again, knead and divide in two.  Let sit for 1/2 hour.  Then put into your bread pans (or floured bread baskets) and let rise for another two hours.  Pre-heat oven to 425F in the last 20 minutes or so of rising time.  After two hours, put the bread in the oven and let back for approx. 30 minutes.  May take longer or less time, depending on whether the bread is baking in a pan or freeform, etc..  Some people like to spritz the oven with water 3X during the first 9 minutes of baking, others like to put a pan of water on the bottom of the oven.  Both are intended to give a crispier crust.  

Try it out and see what you like.  Bread will happen, even if it isn't what you expected.

This Little Piggy...

Corner Brook inaugurated their Farmer's Market yesterday in grand style. The weather was perfect, the crowds plenty, the music excellent, and everyone was happy.

Our West Coast Craft Collective started out with two tables, but quickly grew to three to accommodate all our wares. Response was enthusiastic. It is clear that many people have been longing for something like this for many years. Congratulations to all who made it happen - and a huge thank you.

In foreground, hats and eco-bracelets by Knix Hand Knits.

Here we have felted soaps and boxes by ShannonAnn and fused glass garden birds by 

Urve Manuel at Stone's Throw Glassworks.

I didn't have much to sell myself, but happily most everyone else was selling at a nice pace. Plus it was simply nice to spend some time with the other people who make things here on the West Coast. Such a lovely group of people.

My small basket of yarn along with some Islandsweet knitting needles and yarn.

The market will pick up again on July 11 and continue weekly through October as produce comes in. This was just a kick-off event to generate some interest. I think it worked!

A Natural, Zesty Enterprise

Many dandelions were gathered yesterday - about 1/2 lb of flowers. I boiled them for about 1/2 hour then simmered for another 1/2 hour. The smell was not for those with allergies - just a word of warning. I strained out the flowers and added about 20 pennies to the pot. I had heard that the copper in pennies could serve as a mordant if you just drop them in the dye pot, so I took my chances. Then, a quick scan of our cupboards revealed some alum, so I put in about 2 TB, maybe a little more than that. It was all a bit hit or miss. While I admire those who can take on their dyeing with a scientific attention to detail, for me it is like drawing a straight line. I just can't do it, even when it is what I set out to do.

Anyhoo, I simmered 1/2 lb of BFL fleece and some mohair locks for about 1/2 hour, then let the pot cool off the stove. Voila! (The colour is actually much more intensely yellow than this photograph indicates - for some reason yellow is so difficult to photograph accurately).



The colour is especially welcome because all my dyed fleece is still in transit and I have had only white, morrit and black to work with as I prepare some yarns for the first ever Farmer's Market in Corner Brook this Saturday. The West Coast Craft Collective, as we are unofficially called, will have a table of wares. Islandsweet will be there, as will Knix Hand Knits, along with some others as well. Stop by any time from 10 am to 2 p.m. and say hello!

But back to the limited palette....it did inspire a very late entry to the etsyFAST team's May Challenge (is this a weekday?). The challenge was to make something based on a movie. One of my all-time, #1 favourite movies is The Big Lebowski. Pure genius, every minute of it. I made a yarn based on the Dude's sweater. If you are not familiar with the movie, I urge you to see it, but do not let a first viewing put you off. It often takes about three times to really understand the many layers of subtle nuance. My brother-in-law, who is completing his Ph.D. dissertation in education as we speak, has compared it to Shakespeare with a straight face.

What in God's holy name am I blathering about? Well, I'll tell you what I am blathering about...man...sir...





I also made a super twisty yarn using a Border Leicester/Alpaca blend. Both are in my etsy shop, or stop by the Farmer's Market on Saturday.



This is a yarn that is made from two bobbins of singles that Lucy spun and never did anything with. After making a couple skeins of my limited palette, I was jonesing for some colour (where my kool aid at?) and I found these two bobbins. Desperate, I asked Lucy if I could ply them together, come what may. She agreed, although I am not sure if she is selling this skein or not. It was actually very inspiring to take more chances with colour - the random plying experience worked out so beautifully.


I happily await my packages of dyed wool. Please come soon!

Throughout Space and Time

Somehow defying space and time, I am sitting on the couch in Gillams. Never left, it seems. Or so it especially seemed as we arrived to find our dear, dear friend Olive in the house, making a fire in the woodstove and setting up a delicious, homemade lunch so that we felt not only welcomed but as if we never left.

Each year our trip back takes on a new flavour. Last year I remember it was one of hardship - the house had encountered difficulties over the winter and it was hard to turn the wheels that had to be turned to make improvements.  Everything generally felt like it was slightly off. This year, however, has been much more dreamlike. It truly feels like we just popped away for a weekend and now we are back with only that slight jog in between. Of course, that jog was much more than a weekend and it boggles my mind to think of all the activities we managed to cram into those nine months in New York.

Then, there are things like seasons that help confuse us and suggest that we have breached the time/space continuum. Here is Sunnyside on May 27th:



Here is Gillams on May 30th:



Things are rapidly getting greener, but it is clear that, if anything, we have been moving backwards in time.

As if to add to that sense, here are Finn and Lucy exploring an ancient relic from days long past...

They were quite amused by this quaint antiquity.

Here they are slightly less amused, as it is about 10 p.m. on Friday while we wait to board the overnight ferry in North Sydney, NS, after 12 hours in the car.  I won't even post the picture of Dan.  It would be near impossible to even whisper the word "amused" at his shadow at that point.  He was not a happy traveler.

The cafeteria in the ferry terminal.  There was something so....I dunno....post modern about it all.  

For myself, I was cheered up greatly upon arriving at the ferry terminal, despite North Sydney being one of the most depressing cities on earth.  It was the first time we saw license plates from Newfoundland and Labrador and the first time there were clusters of people standing around talking and laughing, speaking Newfoundese, as Finn calls it.  Ahhhhh....home at last!

The requisite pictures of the Tim Hortons in Port aux Basques.  We gladly stopped there in the morning after the ferry across and slurped up our steeped tea and coffee.  Never has fast food caffeine tasted so good.  (And thank you, Helen, for your explanation of caffeine from my previous post.  I knew I could count on you!)

A typical day in Port aux Basques.  We saw an RV in line for the ferry in North Sydney that was called "The Sun Seeker," giving us many laughs.  If it's sun yer after b'y, I'd turn around right quick!  Of course, that isn't really true, as the sun is shining brightly today.  But it was cold and rainy the whole trip north, so we had a more jaded attitude at that point.

Speaking of jaded attitudes....

One lovely new development in our absence has been a weekly get-together of knitters at a new cafe in Corner Brook.  Lucy and I eagerly attended this week's gathering, where an amazing lace shawl - with bead work! - was displayed.  Fourteen knitters showed up.  We had local tea and homemade sweets to supplement our conversation and knitting. Very nice.  Very, very nice.

And today, I am experimenting with dyeing with dandelions, among other activities.  From a resource perspective, it seems like a sustainable idea.

On Packing and the Colour of Caffeine

This is our one day set aside to pack up before heading out in the morning tomorrow. My list is growing longer with each thing I check off of it. How is that possible?

In the meantime, Finnian has decided that this is the best moment to start asking important questions like, "what is the colour of caffeine?" and "why does bees wax burn longer than other types of wax?". Yes, these are very important questions to be answered (if only I knew the answers!) but we will have 24 hours in a car to thoroughly explore the physical properties of caffeine. Today, however, we have: laundry, yarn labeling and shipping, fleece, clothes and spinning supplies packing, cleaning up the basement, post office run, and.....

If questions are your thing right now, I urge you to check out this blog that I have been enjoying immensely since I discovered it a couple of months ago. He always gives me something to think about while I check things off my list.

A Moment of Madness

Last summer we had our front foyer re-done. When we moved in, it had been painted to look like a half ruined, Etruscan fresco, which tried to take advantage of the actual half ruined state of the plaster walls. Dan was never a great fan of it but I liked it for its strangeness and because I love any attempt people make to bring a sense of the hand into unusual places. After almost ten years with our Etruscan ladies disintegrating in our foyer, the piles of shoes and scooters, baseball bats and what-have-you started to overwhelm the space. There were times when the front door could hardly open, blocked by the piles of stuff. It seemed like bad feng shui if nothing else.

So we had the walls re-plastered and put in a shallow cabinet with shelves for shoes and a bin for hats and mitts.





Clean and functional. No Etruscans but no clutter either. I eagerly volunteered to paint the foyer last September. And then, whoosh, life happened. So it was that a couple of months ago Dan made a bet with me that I would go back to Newfoundland and the foyer still would not be painted. Perhaps he knows me too well. Reverse psychology works like a charm - all he has to do is suggest that I can't do something and, let me tell you, that thing is done. Actually now that I think of it, this may have been his master plan all along. Played like a grand piano! Ah well...

What he didn't expect was that I would have moment of madness in that little foyer.




And, I won the bet!

Sharecropper

When we first moved into our house in Sunnyside, one of the greatest benefits was the little back garden space. It had become overgrown by the previous tenants and owners, but slowly over time I managed to beat back the weeds and forge a tiny sliver of paradise. I took a mostly laissez faire approach, allowing plants to grow where they wanted to, but with some re-arranging if necessary.

For the last several years, however, we have been in Newfoundland for nearly half the year and the Sunnyside backyard has been woefully neglected. I try to make up for the months of absence in mid-September, but really, it is an impossible task. Here are some unwelcome guests to our garden this spring:



The demon pokeweed. A plant who manages to grow a root as thick as my wrist while the shoot above ground is barely 8" tall. This one is already demanding a shovel to get rid of it. And those damn berries that stain everything in sight but are completely useless as an actual plant dye..there are.simply no redeeming qualities to this plant unless you consider the test of character they elicit a good thing. Which I don't.



Ah yes, bamboo. Many years ago our neighbor, being an experimental type, planted bamboo. When it overran their garden, he got rid of it, but not before it crossed into our yard. When we moved in, it had taken over literally half our yard (granted the "yard" is only about 17'x20' but all the more reason to never plant bamboo in it). With the assistance of a neighbor who took on the task of digging it up as some kind of personal mission, we managed to rid ourselves of the bamboo. Now, ten years later...it's BAAACK. I could cry.



And finally, in the pantheon of "what were you thinking" plants to bring into a tiny garden, Japanese Honeysuckle. Sure it smells lovely and the kids like to drink the nectar from it, but it, too, is a demon plant from hell. I managed to dig out all the roots in our garden, but my neighbors were not up for such a task so each year I had to be vigilant about keeping it out. As you can see, it has wasted no time in making itself comfortable once again.

It is because I know I can do little to really stop this invasion that makes it so frustrating. In six days we are out of here and the mice will play, or in this case, the bamboo, honeysuckle and pokeweed.

Enter Leah Gauthier and Sharecropper.

Somewhere I happened across Leah's webpage and read about her project, Sharecropper. She is adopting various plots of ground all around the five boroughs of NYC and turning them into mini farms that she and a crew of volunteers will maintain and tend. Here is how she describes her project:

"Leah will be using organic growing methods to plant rare and endangered heirloom vegetables and herbs, and to cultivate wild edibles on parcels of donated land or growing spaces located in each of the five boroughs. A portion of the harvest will be shared with local soup kitchens, and series of interactive cooking performances around the city are being planned."

When I read about Leah's project, my first thought was "sign me up!" And so I wrote her a note and we emailed back and forth and in a couple of weeks, Leah will be digging and planting in our backyard. I am very excited to be part of her project and to have our little garden once again functioning as something more than a weed growing facility.

And just so you know, I did warn her that things had become, ahem, a little overgrown.

Saying Thank You

Back in March, I organized a small group of homeschoolers to come by the ZCNYC to learn about Zen.  Shugen Sensei met us at the door and gave a wonderful introduction to the history and philosophy behind Zen.  Then we went into the zendo and he led everyone through a short introduction to zazen.  Fortunately we had two lively children - a brother and sister - who asked and answered lots of questions.  Most everyone else seemed a little intimidated by the newness of it all.  Their quiet demeanor did not reflect a lack of interest - I had lots of very good feedback that almost leads me to believe we could do another visit to keep the conversation going (but I will tread lightly here - I don't want to be seen as a Zen pusher, which are two words that do not go together well at all!).  

About three days before the visit, it occurred to me that we should offer some kind of donation in thanks for taking up Shugen's time.  I am usually a little slow off the mark like that.  In any case, I was not really prepared when the day came and went.  But it also occurred to me that among this group were many excellent knitters.  In fact, everyone was a knitter.  And I had some left over yarn from my Lion Brand window project. So, voila!  A thank you gift was born.

I divvied out some yarn to each family to knit into a piece that could be a size and design of their own choosing.





After I collected all the pieces, I put them together and crocheted a border. Some of the blocks were quite fancy!





I hope it will keep residents and visitors warm for years to come.

Turn On A Dime

This morning we were supposed to go on a Big Onion Walking Tour over the Brooklyn Bridge with a group of homeschoolers. We signed up well over a month ago and I have been looking forward to it ever since. I haven't walked over the bridge in years and years and F&L never have. The weather seems to have received the memo, because it is shining and glorious. But Finn woke up with a host of cold-like symptoms and a flushed face, so that plan had to be scrapped (it is NOT swine flu!). Beyond the disappointment was the money I had spent on the tickets. But what is to be done? People get sick and need to rest, not hike over a bridge. So it goes.

Fortunately there were a couple of other things that could be done today: laundry, post office, garden, finishing up an afghan for ZCNYC (pictures tomorrow!) and more. And I am still planning on heading to Wave Hill later today to meet up with Jennifer McGregor, the curator of their visual art programs. There may be a project afoot....

One of the beauties of homeschooling is that we can turn on a dime and adjust our schedule without too much muss and fuss. And a day at home, especially a gorgeous, sunny one, is always welcome.

(Some sweet-smelling Lily of the Valley found in a cool, shady spot in the backyard.)

Nine Bows

Sri Pattabhi Jois passed away at age 93.

Sell It, Baby!

In case you haven't noticed, I am having a huge sale in my etsy shop. All yarns are 25% off and shipping is free if you purchase three or more skeins. With prices like this, how can you afford not to buy?

Actually, I am trying to sell as much yarn in my inventory before we head to Gillams where I will make lots and lots more. Whatever is left in the shop on Friday morning will get packed up and mailed to the Craft Council shop, Devon House, in St. John's.

I am looking forward to the days when dyeing and spinning can move to the head of the line of things to do. There is nothing like seeing skeins drying on the railing to give one a sense that something has been accomplished.



Here is another accomplishment. I had been eyeing dizes (is that the correct plural form?) on etsy when I saw a porcelain one with a celadon glaze that I really liked. As I was about to click "pay now," it hit me - I take a pottery class with F&L every week and could easily make one myself. Step away from the credit card! Lo, only two weeks later, I have my very own porcelain diz with a celadon glaze.

Life, Mysore Style

Those familiar with Astanga yoga will be familiar with the two styles that are generally practiced. They are the same but different. The first is to take a led class where the teacher counts through the movements, breath, and gaze in Sanskrit and one goes through the whole (or half) series as a group, ideally with everyone moving together, breathing together and working as one single organism. It can be quite wonderful to experience when it happens.

The second way is to do "Mysore" style, named after the hometown of Sri Pattabhi Jois. In Mysore style, the student still works with a teacher but the practice is done individually, with the student advancing through the series only when they have memorized it and can complete the asanas. I have heard there is some leeway here - that Pattabhi Jois only cares about the memorizing part, not getting everything perfect, but most teachers I have encountered do consider how the asanas are done as part of being able to advance. For the most part, however, the practice is a solo practice and it is possible to have minimal interaction with a teacher.

There is a beauty to the daily repetition of a Mysore practice and it does seem to me to be a good way to make sure yoga is part of one's life - that is to say that it becomes built in to one's schedule because it guarantees that one has a complete sequence memorized. It is pretty safe to say that most of us are not always going to be going to group yoga classes for the rest of our lives and, in Mysore style, we have the freedom to take our class with us where ever we go.

I have been thinking about these two styles of learning and doing as we approach the day when we pack up and head to Gillams. Here in NYC, I have the luxury of taking a led class with some amazing teachers and some amazing students. But it is the strength of my Mysore style that keeps me going in Gillams. If I don't have my practice built in, it will disappear. I think the same can be said about zazen. In NYC, I have had the luxury of spending a little time with my teacher and sangha each week, even if it hasn't been sitting zazen. I have been able to be at the Temple, do some work, and soak in the experience of being around people who are on the same path (and well ahead of me!). In Gillams, I have some CDs and I have downloaded some dharma talks, but really, it is all Mysore style zazen there. The practice must be a strong one or it will disappear.

Both styles have their advantages and problems. The best way is to create a balance between the two so they support each other, but it is definitely a dance. A lifelong dance.

And speaking of which....

Spinnin' and Drinkin' and Dancin'

and feelin' the love for Queens Council on the Arts!

Last night was the benefit fundraiser for QCA. They invited me to come and do my talent, with my talent being spinning. I have to admit, I was a little doubtful that anyone who was attending a fundraiser that mainly involved styling and profiling and dancing (and drinking) would be interested in getting jiggy with a spindle but the supporters of the arts in Queens proved me wrong!

Here is my brave first victim, I mean, student. He seemed genuinely interested, oddly enough.



This woman was a knitter and immediately admitted that she had been avoiding spinning because she was very afraid of what might happen, the rabbit hole being what it is. When she started asking about plant dyes, I knew I had her. Hee, hee. Another one hooked!



This guy seemed to be feeling very happy. So happy he just had to spin. Actually, he just treadled and I drafted the fibres. Safety first!



Here we have an example of someone who immediately knew how to spin - her hands doing the work they knew how to do before she even knew they knew. Yes, uh-huh! I hooked her up with a spindle and some fleece, big time!



Likewise this woman.


So I would say three confirmed and two maybes. Not bad for a night's work!

Onward and Upward

Some further, highly unscientific research into the brains of teenagers (conducted while sitting around in Central Park yesterday) has revealed a couple of interesting things.  First, one mother of two teenagers suggested that the earlier the trouble, the better.  One of her sons had his moment, shall we say, when he was about Mr. 12's age.  It was difficult but everyone recovered nicely and the rest of his teenaged years were pretty reasonable.  Her other son experienced his moment when he was a bit older - around 15.  The troubles a 15 year old can get into are far more troubling than a 12 year old.  So we count our blessings, right?  But really, what causes the unhappiness and struggle is the distance between expectations and reality.  Always.

The second interesting thing was that everyone agreed that teenagers need almost as much personal attention as toddlers, despite their seeming ability to live pretty well on their own.  This must be combined, however, with a good dose of real, serious responsibility.  Just the usual parental, do-the-impossible balancing act.  If nothing else, it keeps me humble.

In the meantime, we came across this interview between Stephen Colbert and Michael Joachim.  I found it very inspiring.  If I were 20 years younger and light years smarter, I would be laying myself on their doorstep, offering whatever I had to be a part of their vision.  Instead, I turned to Mr. 12 and said, "Now that's something to do in life!"  And to my surprise, he agreed!

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Mitchell Joachim
colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Gay Marriage

Searching For the Re-Set

I am sitting here, a little chilly from the open windows, amid a cloud of smoke.  A certain someone, let's call him Mr. 12, is in the habit of putting bread in the toaster oven, setting the timer to a random time and then going off to finish that last chapter in his book.  Several dozen minutes later: smoke, fire, fire alarms, open windows and charred remains of toast.

Such is my life lately.  The 12 year old brain is promising to do me in.  I have read that the brain of adolescents rebuilds itself, which is why they can so often seem to be totally lacking in good judgement.  It seemed to such a reasonable hypothesis from the comfortable distance of age 8 or 9.  Living life with a person who is experiencing brain rebuilding is slightly less interesting from a scientific perspective and hugely more irritating.  

I have been trying to figure out what exactly about recent...um...events...that has been so challenging and I think it is the shock factor.  One day you believe that certain life lessons have been well absorbed and are thus no longer an issue.  And then you come home to find two people engaged in a physical and mental battle to the death, dinner has been dumped in the garbage because "I hate black beans," and a charming note on your bed stating "keep your crap out of my room."

Where do you even begin?  

I have been trying not to go into some automatic parental mode whereby I replicate every action and reaction that my parents had with me (not that they did such a terrible job, but there are areas worthy of improvement).   Also, it seems like some consciousness about what is happening on the part of at least one of us would be a welcome thing.   But this it is very difficult!  More than once I have had that disquieting experience of hearing my mother come out of my mouth.  And then my father.  

Dang it!  Why can't these children understand that my waters are still very cloudy over here?  Instead it is ding, ding, ding, pushing those buttons fast and furious.  Is there a pause button somewhere? 

There's Got To Be A Morning After

I lived to tell the tale.  My game plan was successful - inhalations and exhalations continued throughout.  Dare I say it?  It was even fun.  Apparently once you get me started, the only hard part is turning me off.  I blathered unceasingly for two hours, heaven help us.  

Thank you to the people who came.  There were many from among our wonderful homeschool community of friends (it felt very reassuring to see them in the front row!).  I was thrilled to see a a good number of people who participated in past projects, and there were many new faces, as well.  What a treat, in the end, to be able to share the stories behind the work.  It helps that the audience was receptive, laughed in the right places, and was knitting while I spoke.  

An extra special thanks to Patty at Lion Brand Studio for her work to make this happen.

There were many photos taken during the evening by Lion Brand and Helen set up her camera and tripod, so some of it was videotaped.  I am not sure how it will all get disseminated, but I will post any links when/if they appear.

Talk, Talk, Talk

The big talk at Lion Brand Studio is tonight (doors open at 5:30 p.m., seating is first come, first served).  I was feeling pretty relaxed about it.  At this point, I have given many talks about my work so the topic is pretty familiar territory.  Then Patty at LBS mentioned that 58 people had RSVP'ed.  Dashed from my mind were the images of sitting around with a half dozen knitters, quietly chatting about fun stuff.  Now I am armed with a power point show of about 100 images.  My goal is to breath throughout.

Maybe I am setting the bar too high?

Philosophy 101

Faith means not wanting to know what is true.

The Nietzsche Family Circus  A match made in...well...not heaven exactly since God is dead, but whatever.

And there's more:

Inference from Signs

The signs are everywhere. Last week we used up our last jar of homemade jelly (blueberry, made from berries picked in Pynn's Brook). On Saturday I experienced The Great Taboo - I purchased (gulp) commercially produced jelly. The shame of it all!

The signs are everywhere. It is time to head north!