EW

Ramblings on writing, crafting and life.

With the mail today came the package from my swap partner Kristi. She did a WOW job on the spoiling me!

A gorgeous skein of Cascade Heritage handpainted sock yarn. With an excellent first timers sock pattern.  Add to that coffee and some serious chocolate content and I think I’m good for a few overnighters on the book! I loved it all! Thanks Kristi and I hope you like mine when you get it.

So yeah…I’m not big into Valentines Day. Shock. Pink, hearts, frills, the entire concept is enough to send me into a diabetic coma. And honestly, my feeling is if you need Hallmark to create a day so you can remember to tell the person/people in your life you love them, you might want to look at that.

Don’t get me wrong. I consider myself a romantic. I read Romeo and Juliet at the age of 8, and was lost. I swiped the enormous, dusty “Complete Annotated” tome from my Grandfather’s library shelves. Stole upstairs to my room and under the covers with a flashlight (yes….I actually did that type of thing) started poring through the pages. I think I only grabbed it because it was the biggest damned book I could reach, and hefting it made me feel terribly grown up…not to mention slightly butch. I had no idea what I had, but via some internal radar I still refuse to examine too closely, I found myself slogging my way through Good ol’ Will’s tale of woe. Granted, I don’t think I understood half the language, and as I recall at some point Webster joined us under the covers. But I got enough to be hooked, in more than one way. From there is was a quick jaunt to the Bronte sisters. Jane and Heathcliff are still two favorites I revisit periodically.  Formative reading and a bent I continue to wander after to this day.  Then you have the entire Once and Future King thing that I have going on….but that’s another day’s story.

I’ve actually gotten lower brow as I’ve aged. Poor Will would shudder to hear me confess I love Meg Ryan movies.  And Austen in all her permutations, from BBC to Hollywood, to Penguin Classics. Not that Austen is low brow literature, but as we all now she’s been sullied by Hollywood (can you say Clueless people?).

So why this resistance to the good-natured smarm of a heart shaped box of chocolates you might wonder. Well, I wondered that myself today. As I received the usual non-celebratory Happy Valentines wishes from the spousal unit, and for the first time in 15 years of marriage found myself wondering…”That’s it?”. Which is foolish really, as of course I know that’s it. M doesn’t do Valentines Day on principle. Said principle that sparked the only slightly tongue-in-cheek title of this post. And as I stood there in the kitchen realizing that, of course, there was no secret box of chocolates that would add unwanted and un-needed padding to my posterior or bouquet of flowers that would wither and die, sadly browning till the odor of the water turned swamp-like and reminded us all of the fleeting nature of life. Of course not, Liz. He doesn’t DO that. Moment of epiphany!

It wasn’t the lack of candy, or gifts, or even the lack of celebration of a holiday I had deemed useless years before I’d even met him. I was pissed off at the fact that HE DECIDED that because it didn’t matter to him, it didn’t matter at all. Now now…before anyone rushes to tar and feather the poor guy, realize that this is a really gross over-simplification of the process through which our anti-celebration stance developed. For me if was like someone turned on the Bat-Light and shone it directly at the gaping hole where my princicples should be.  I started looking at the places in our lives, where things were decided because M felt strongly enough to put a foot down one way or the other. And in correlation the places where I’d done the same. I guess you’ve gathered the scales tipped rather precariously toward one side. And this is quite patently NOT his fault or responsibility. The few times I’ve felt the need to stand up for something, it’s been mostly a non-issue as we’ve agreed (ie parenting, spirituality etc) The big things. We synch on those. But on those little details that make a life. I’ve kind of been content to drift along and follow where he led. Who knew I wasn’t really content, but building latent resentments that would poke me in the eye 15 years in on Valentines Day?

Apparently….I DO care whether or not we give the mailman a Christmas card, or how the bed is made, or that the damned dishes match on special occasions. All I can figure, is in my intense desire to avoid friction, fighting, yelling  – whatever repercussions I seem to have associated with expressing my opinions clearly and volubly – I’ve managed to make myself a non-entity. A person of no voice. And it is equally apparent to me, that this is no longer going to work.

In all this effort to be a better me, I guess I’m finding that actually BEING me is necessary.

Hmmm….I think I’ll go watch a Meg Ryan movie.

I was rambling around Ravelry today, as has become my habit. Putting patterns to faves and drooling over yarns. When lo and behold as I was checking out someone’s destash page, I noticed their stash was in the high triple digits. I got curious and clicked on the tab. I swear the sucker took ten minutes to load in its entirety. Beautiful yarn too. No Joanns rehash here. But lovely natural fibers. Hand dyed. Sock yarns galore. I think this person must really have to rent a second residence for their stash. Either that, or they sleep in the basement while their stash abides above-ground in lovely, climate-controlled comfort.

The long and the short of this is I no longer feel the least bit guilty. In fact, I might be suffering from stash inadequacy syndrome. Indeed readers, I was assailed by a sudden, near violent need to visit my LYS…immediately….if not sooner. Yarn! Fiber! Arrrrr…..must….stash!

So my avid readers, all two of you. I received an email yesterday from a family member who stumbled across my blog after reading WWMD (Matt’s mostly gaming blog). And she was frustrated by her inability to post a comment. I was basically clueless about the state of things. But I managed to remedy the situation. Yes! All by myself – well mostly anyhow. I did the hard part by myself!

Readers are now able and welcome to post commentary. Have at it.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be a “One project at a time” kind of person. And I’m ok with that. Good with it even. I think this jack-rabbiting from one thing to another keeps me from being bored.  M and I got an actual dinner and movie type date the other night. And Among discussion topics was this work habits issue. We both are finally on the same page in terms of the vision of the kind of life we want to have, for us and our kids. That’s great. But now comes the nuts and bolts of getting from here to there. I know there must be a way to harness this obssessive multi-tasking habit of mine, and turn it from chaos into a positive. I just haven’t quite figured out how.

Along this vein. The teaching, and working with individuals in Dreamwork. I’m excited about it. You know that feeling of exhilaration that comes with doing something you not only love, but that makes you feel…valuable. Like you’re contributing to a better kind of world. Helping people move through the difficult stuff. I love this work. I really do. And I believe on a bone-deep level that everyone can benefit from it. Who doesn’t have crap to deal with? We all do. And we’re always looking outside ourselves for the answers. We’ll never find them that way. The answers, by necessity are inside. There’s nothing more gratifying, for me, than to watch people have that “AHAH!” moment. And I’m honored that people let me be present and help them move toward it. This life I want to create….it involves so many disparate pieces, that I honestly don’t know how they all fit. I just know in my gut that they do. Parenting, teaching, writing, traveling with my family, all the craft/art I dive into, and so many more things…this is the great, jumbled mass of pieces that is me, and my expression of myself in my life.

On a more mundane note. I made the most involved meal since the surgery last night. And all my balking at the rules and restrictions came back and slapped me soundly in the face. I rather conveniently forgot the whole “No being up more than a half hour at a time” rule last night. And was on my feet nearly two between dinner and helping the oldest pick her song for this year’s talent show and practice it. Today I feel like a breathless train wreck. Not bad on the pain front, just a bit achey. But damn. I can’t walk up the stairs without needing to sit for a loooong while. And I’m getting breathless even having a conversation. Ridiculous and humbling. Less than two weeks left, though. Here’s hoping my head doesn’t implode from frustration.

I started a new round of my Four Week Dream class last night. And  -wow- 8 people signed up. Twice what i had in the last group. I know it doesn’t sound like a crowd, but dreamwork is intense, intimate work so 8 is alot. They are a great group of women though. Open and ready for change. I’m excited to see what we move through in the next four weeks.

As always after teaching this kind of class, I got home last night energized, full of renewed purpose. And I have to say, the book idea that’s been attached to my dreamworking and teaching is in there. I think it’s done baking folks. Ready for me to work on it. And yet…I find that I’m berating myself for even considering starting another project when THE BOOK is still hovering incomplete. I read somewhere that writing a book was like a marriage. It required utter fidelity to be successful. So no matter the temptation to put a new idea on paper. To start those first lovely new paragraphs. Don’t. Stick with the current project till it’s done. Apparently… I have literary fidelity issues. So I’m wondering…does it require utter faithfulness? Or would I be better with more than one project going at any time, so if I’m stuck on one…I can move to the other. Back and forth, just as I do in all my other creative endeavors.

I rarely have fewer than three knitting projects on needles at any given time. And I pick them up according to mood. What do I feel like working with today? That’s how I do knitting. And I do it without any other thought than the joy of doing it. The love of being able to have a finished item that can be worn, used, and loved by someone…made by my hands. So Why  not take this approach with writing?? It’s something I’ve been pondering during this long nearly three year slog of trying to get my first novel done.

Speaking of knitting, I’ve had a brief note from my swap partner Kristie She’s enjoying her R & R, and I hope she has a fab time. I’m already gathering ideas for her box, but am looking forward to chatting more with her to get a feel for the kinds of things that will have her ooohing, aaahing and drooling when she opens her swap package. In that effort, I’m hoping to make a trip to my LYS this weekend. Now that I’m driving again this is within reach. And I’m plotting on taking the oldest. She’s already something of a mini yarn-a-holic. Apple…tree…all that.

Well, off to work on my market bag. I took a challenge on one of my Ravelry groups to get it off needles this week and time is ticking away. I’ll post pics once I get the replacement charger for my digital cam.

Cheers!