Sun? Flowers? WTF are those? GIMME SHELTER...on the beach.

Best Quote I Heard All Day

Spring is nature’s way of saying “Let’s party!”—Robin Williams

Party on, Mar. Party on, Tonant Weaders. Even though as I write this, it’s currently around 40 degrees Fahrenheit here in beautiful NEPA, the vernal equinox has arrived.

Ravelry Boohaha Feh-stival
I truly appreciated all of your comments re: the last post. Your support means more to me than I can express. Even though I do write for myself, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it makes me happy that others find something in what I write. I’ve still not bothered reading the thread. I left that up to you.

I’m not going away too soon. So the mean girls on Ravelry(I loved that analogy) are just going to have to take their pom-poms and perform obscene acts with cheap yarn.

So now, back to business.

Rock On
Jerry had a surprise for me on Saturday. He took me to see Fleetwood Mac at the Izod Center in the Jersey Meadowlands. Classic. Was that not a sweet thing to do? He’d been planning this surprise for a couple of months. And managed to keep his mouth shut, too. Nieces Kate and Michele came along and the four of us had a great time.

Fleetwood Mac was amazing. Especially since they are all over 60 now, including Stevie Nicks, who looked great. She isn’t doing her whirling dervish routine anymore, though. I suppose she has arthritis like me. I can still whirl, though, when the situation calls for it.

Besides knitting, music is a huge part of my life. Once upon a time, I was a musician...guitar and violin. I still play at the guitar, although not as often as I should.

The most important tool that a tech writer can have is an iPod Shuffle. In most places I’ve worked, writers are allowed to listen to them because music eliminates the office bullshit talking. No, I don’t have my own office. I have a wall. Not even a true cubicle, just a desk, with an overhead cabinet, and two foot-wide sides where I hang my calendar and other junk.

Here’s what’s on the Shuffle: The Stones, Tom Petty, Springsteen, The Grateful Dead, The Yardbirds, The Who, Warren Zevon, Talking Heads, Billy Joel, and a bunch of others. Rock is particularly inspiring when I’m making tutorial videos.

MD Sheep & Wool
I’m definitely going. And dragging poor Jeremiah with me, although he’s wonderfully supportive and has actually gone to Stix ‘n’ Stitches, my local yarn shop down in Montclair, NJ, with me (he fell asleep on Sheila’s couch, though). So I expect to meet some of you, right? And please, don’t give me that “I saw you but I was afraid to approach you.” Nonsense. My friends think I’m likeable, so don’t fear the reaper, OK?

I can't decide whether to buy the Ladybug or put money towards a new Mac laptop. Or maybe not spend it at all, even though I can afford to buy one or the other. My job is as secure as a job can be in this climate, but I've been loathe to spend money lately. However, I will buy something at MD, to be sure.

Jerry's Aran

Getting the back done. In fact, I should really be knitting and not writing. Halfway up the armholes, so it should be done by this weekend. And then, a sleeve.



I've decided to use the off-kilter braid as the center sleeve panel, offset by the three baby cables on each side. The braid is just wide enough to work for the saddle shoulder.

The Punk Princess Marches On
One of Liz's friends put this up on FaceBook. My little tin soldier had just hit her head while at the mall, how I don't know. And why she was in her band uniform is a mystery, unless they had just had practice and then she and her little gangsta friends made haste to their hangout.

Hard to believe she's going to be 17 this coming July. Still tiny, though. But quite the adult. Rare, handy, and a smartass to boot. Truly my blood. I was so much like her at that age. Brazen, artsy, and never afraid to run my mouth.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
A friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself--Jim Morrison

After last weekend filled with friends, who love me for myself, now I'm moving next door to a dearly beloved friend who epitomizes Morrison's quote.

This is what I had alluded to in a previous entry, and now it has become reality. I will be moving to East Stroudsburg, PA, right over the Delaware River from New Jersey. Into the apartment next door to Neal's, a lovely one-bedroom place with a back porch and much lower rent. I am leaving the kids to do their own thing. It's time, for me and for them.

The move will take place slowly, over the next two months, because I want to wait until after the holidays and to give the kids a chance to find a place for themselves.

Over the course of the past five and a half years, I have been through many changes, most for the better. Ups and downs, back and forth, with lessons learned and many tears shed. For those of you who have shared those times with me, know that I have grown enormously. Even reading the early blog entries, I can see the difference.

Independent, happy, fulfilled. I never thought I would get to this place. I have. Yo, Jimmy! I done did good, no?

But I am still a Jersey girl. And I always will be.

Open Mic Thursday
This topic actually came up in the course of Wolverina correspondence today. I was on the road back from Maryland (no, didn't have time to go to the yarn shop in Hyattsville--I had three staff members and six drivers to train), sitting in gawd-awful stopped-dead traffic outside of Philly in miserable weather.

The work Blackberry allows me to read my e-mail, and there was quite the discussion about a Rhinebeck attendee who whined about how the festival was child-unfriendly, how people were rude to her as she pushed her stroller through the buildings (and how there was no yarn specials--WTF?).

This is a hot-button topic.

Should people bring their kids to fiber festivals or into yarn shops, and expect these places to be child-friendly?

I will say this: My children, who were quite well-behaved (because if they weren't, they got the Look, at the very least), were never taken to events that were primarily for and about adults.

First of all, I believe that subjecting children to situations where they will become bored and fractious within five minutes is selfish on the part of the parents. Second, as much as you love your kids, other people won't, especially if you try to push a large stroller through a crowded building. While I would happily give way to a handicapped person in a wheelchair who wanted to shop, kids in strollers are not the ones shopping.

If you can't leave the kids at home with a sitter or an indulgent grandparent, don't go. I didn't go much of anywhere with the kids until they were at least 12 or so. If I wanted to go to the yarn shop, their father watched them. If he couldn't, I didn't go until he was available.

Not every damned thing needs to be a family affair. Sometimes you need to leave the rugrats at home. And go by yourself. It'll do the whole family good if you do.

Happy Birthday, Bunky Bear
My first baby is 38 years old today, sharing her birthday with the Charge of the Light Brigade, that infamous military blunder of the Crimean War.

My God, I was so young. Nineteen years old, and as you can see, quite the hippie chick. Crocheted floppy hat, clogs, paint-spattered jeans. Other than the hat, I haven't changed much, fashionwise. Once a flower child, always a flower child.

Jenn is the mother of my "Little Guy", Mr. Ian, a software QA analyst, a top-notch seamstress and embroiderer, and like her mother, a voracious reader. When she has time, she plays the Celtic harp.

Half a league, half a league, half a league onward. Happy birthday, sweetie. Mamoo loves you.

La Musica
Those who know me, know that music plays an enormous part of my life. Classical music, rock, folk, you name it, if it's got a singable melody, I'll listen.

So tomorrow night, I'm going to a taping at our local Cablevision studio of Aztec Two-Step, Rex Fowler and Neal Shulman, courtesy of my friend Bob, who's been a cameraman and now producer there. Anyone remember them? Wonderful duo from the '70s who are still singing. Bob says I can bring my camera and take pictures when the camera isn't rolling. This taped show, "Horses Sing None of It," will be shown on various cable stations, from what I understand.

And the beat goes on. I always wanted to be Chrissie Hynde, a most rare and handy singer, but my stage these days is in the car. For all motorists who enjoy my basso profundo.