Like The Queen

2008-07-25T06:23:00.002-04:00

Jeez! What is it with TheInternets today? I can barely log on to a web page and when I do it stalls out at least twice? Did I miss some important viral announcement while orchestrating summer reading club activities – like this one:

Yep - a juggler on a unicycle in the library. Just what everybody needs.

Well – dependency on something as ephemeral as this One week more of the summer reading club and then – do things lighten up a little? I don't know. About the time the rush at work subsides a bit the extra summer help goes back to college or off on vacation before high school starts up again. But the extra help this year has been amazingly good – so capable that I can take today off, even though my only other full time staff is also off today. Yup. Off to play with cousin H to celebrate her birthday. We're going to Carytown and act like boulevardiers. That is... if women can be boulevardiers. We shall have a sumptuous luncheon and poke our noses into all the little shops and then tool on home in the late afternoon.

This will be my second trip to the city this week for on Wed, William and I visited my mom

and dad.

Cute, aren't they?

Knitting? Is any knitting getting done? Well. no. I did buy some knitting needles. Well, yes. I did knit two rounds of the lone Christmas Sock. I can only hope that sometime soon either inspiration or industry will ignite. MsHoroscope assures me the stars are arranging just such a surge. Till then – ah well.

2008-07-20T06:19:00.004-04:00

Proof of life

and guests

and

Proof of real fiber activity, though it's mighty little.

This is the beautiful alpaca/silk blend I have been nattering on about. I have another spindle full and will start the second one this week (she says – who knows what this week will hold). I have another bag full of this stuff too so if I'm lucky I'll get 600 yards out of it. Certainly enough for a small shawl – or maybe lace scarf and gloves? Hmmm. Or lace stockings? Oh my yes, over the knee lace stockings. Hadn't thought of that before but wouldn't it be lovely?

Christmas socks are stalled – can't find #2 needles and haven't ordered any yet. Not too happy with the limp yarn either – it's KnitPicks tweed. It's pretty but unsatisfying to knit. I guess I better learn my lesson with their sock yarn. I don't like it.

And here is a great shot of MrJamestown

watching

a reenactment of John Smith being stung by a Stingray on the north point of the mouth of the Piankatank River – thus giving that bulge of sand and pine forest the name Stingray Point.

HotHotHotHotHot down here leaves one literarily uninspired – but I am dabbling with The Historian – Vampire novel – had no idea that was what it was about – and the author leaves me singularly un-horrified, I am pretty sure I've already figured out the plot, but I'm just curious enough to keep on reading a while. I have other options in the house, though, and if I don't get a thrill soon, I'll set it aside and pick up Italian Detectives instead.

2008-07-18T07:02:00.002-04:00

I've added a photo of the Crick-ettes to yesterday's post. Just scroll down and have a peep. Thanks for all the "feed" back.

2008-07-16T21:38:00.006-04:00

Every day seems to fill up with More Things that must be done Right Now! But I have a wonderful story to share and I will just make time to tell it here and now. I'll leave the photos up for a day or two just to prove that it all really happened, then take them down.

The Bug Banquet

The statewide summer reading program theme is Catch the Reading Bug. All across Virginia – and goodness knows how many other states – there are bug themed programs, stories, songs, magicians, puppets and if you are lucky enough to live in my county – banquets. Last June when the school children made field trips to the library to hear about upcoming summer reading fun I told them the story of when I accidentally ate not one, but TWO BIG mouthfuls of bugs – ants, to be precise - and I promised them that if they joined our reading club, sometime in July they would have the opportunity to eat real bugs. Not that they would have to eat bugs, mind you, but if they wanted to ... if they had ever been curious about it ... if they had ever wondered what a bug tasted like, I would have some bugs for them to eat.

Soon afterwards, my order for Crick-ettes (assorted flavors) showed up in the UPS truck and a few days later came the chocolate covered mealy worms and crickets. The chocolate covered ones weren't too different looking from chocolate covered raisins or Chinese noodles. The Crick-ettes were pretty gross – no doubt about them – they are true crickets, complete with little serrated legs and bulging black eyes.

These are bugs and I wasn't sure I could eat one. I pretty much expected to eat them, but each time I'd look at them I'd get a little sick to my stomach.

And yet I know people the world over eat bugs and I even knew from experience that bugs are a tasty addition to the diet – if only I could get over my instinctive repugnance for things that go crackle then squish under my shoe. On Monday, I showed them to my visiting son, who opened up the package, poured them into his hand and popped them into his mouth. “Mmmm, good” he assured me “got a texture like soft shell crabs.” He left one on the table with the comment that I owed it to the kids to eat at least one and then walked away. I knew he was right, pushed the little fried critter to my back molars where it would be closest to my throat and furthest from my taste buds and crunched down.

He was right. They're okay. I'd say they're more like popcorn hulls sprinkled with potato chip flavoring, though there is also a faint buggy mustiness to them. After that first crispy one, it was easy to eat a chocolate covered one and then I knew that I would be able to really gross those kids out by biting the head off first and then crunching into the body, before gobbling the legs. I could milk this for a looooong time.

Thirty four squirming bodies showed up on Tuesday. Thirty four little brains had been obsessing about eating bugs for a month. Thirty four little soldiers wondered if they had what it took to Eat A Bug!

First, of course, came the reading and the maps showing where people who ate crickets lived and where the ones who ate fried tarantulas lived. A picture book of disgusting food held photos of bug food but also haggis and bacteria floating in milk – or ... yogurt. After all, one kid's upset stomach is another's delicacy.

But then came the all important moment – the bug eating time. A lot of children wanted to look and what seemed like a lot wanted to sample too. They had time to pause, to consider, to watch me eat a bug and not fall flat out dead. There was squealing and giggling and not a few tongues stuck way out. But there were a lot of takers, bold children who climbed over their repugnance and sampled something way outside their comfort zone.

After that it was time to make fun candy critters and cookie cricket cages. But while they were assembling their confections I asked how many had actually eaten a bug. Maybe two thirds raised their hands. I then asked them, “Don't you feel proud of yourselves now?”

There was an audible pause and then I saw their little chests lift, their faces light up with dawning realization that they were proud of themselves. They'd faced something they were grossed out by – even afraid of - and they'd conquered their fears. I congratulated them on their bravery and their newly found survival skills. “Now you know that if you're stranded on a jungle island, you can always survive by eating bugs,” I told them. Maybe another half dozen hopped right up, asking to try a bug. Even some of the mothers gave it a go.

We've done a lot of fun programs in the library, but this is the first time I've ever really changed a whole group of children, pushed them to think a little better of themselves, to have a little more confidence in their abilities. I honestly think this is the best thing I've done for the children around here and as a bonus, it was a whole lot of fun!

Now – just to get a picture of what my summer has been like – this lively event was sandwiched between a Friends of the library board meeting at noon and a governing library board (my bosses) meeting at 4 p.m. I really am swamped – and I really will post about knitting or spinning or something fibery – one of these days.

2008-07-10T19:37:00.001-04:00

Love you love you love you for your comments.

Guests and long days at work are sucking me away from posting but I will be back I promise I will I will.

2008-07-09T05:12:00.004-04:00

I suddenly realized I owe all you kind folk who've left comments a great big hugging thank you for welcoming me back to the world of blogging. Not that many folk leave comments here so yours are particularly welcome. I'm glad to think that there are people who enjoy my loquacity for, unlike Mr. Darcy, I do perform for strangers, if not well, at least with gladness. I am still very stretched with new duties here at home and with the busiest summer at work I have ever had and it took a rare bout of insomnia to get me up early enough to turn literary today. By the end of the month we will have a smaller kennel and I hope to be a little more regular with my posts.

And so – to begin:

You really do have it all coming together right now. Can you feel it? If not, it may be that you've allowed mean ol' Saturn to get you into such a regularly negative headspace that you've forgotten what it feels like to give yourself a moment to relax and feel at least a little bit self-satisfied. Let's face it, things might not be perfect but for most Virgos at least, they're on the turn or on the mend. And the good news is that the slow and steady recovery you're going through is by no means over yet.

Thank you MsHoroscope. That is just the sort of message that feels good right now. And I do feel a little more like I have the answers I need, or I know where to find them. This is the classic librarian persona – one who knows where to look – thank heaven, since I have lost something important at work. I'm awake now at this ungodly (3:45 a.m.) hour because I suddenly realized where to find it when I go in today. After the retrograde month of June, I'm profoundly glad to have forward movement and a sweet link between Jupiter and Sun. May the stars shine down upon you too.

We had an extraordinarily good musical program at the library yesterday: C-Shells. This was their first visit to our library but it won't be the last. We had a good turnout too, which is gratifying to us and I am sure inspiring for the artists. Like most of the libraries in VA, we're following the national theme of Catch the Reading Bug and next week we'll have our Bug Banquet. We always have one food related program in the summer and I went all out this year with edible bugs – Crick-ettes and chocolate covered crickets and mealy worms. Not that the kids have to eat bugs – but they'll get the opportunity to. We'll have ants on a log too and we'll make “bug cages” out of cookies and pretzels. The big question is ... will TheQueen eat a Crick-ette? Guess you'll have to find out next week.

Fiber blog? Oh well. Yes. Okay. I am knitting on Christmas socks – have to dig through the stash and find some #1 needles or else order some – the yarn I'm using is just too soft for sock feet knit with #2 needles. And I am spinning and spindling: some green merino sock yarn on HeyBaby and the most beautiful alpaca/silk fingering weight on a pretty little drop spindle I bought from My Favorite Yarn Shop last fall. I am so loving this fiber I hope I can get my hands on more. I'm sure it would be pure pleasure to spin on a wheel.

I keep intending to take photos of recent work and I suppose I will keep on intending till I finally do. Till then here is what's growing in the garden.

Thanks again for stopping by and reading, and especially, for leaving comments.

Happy Hump Day.

2008-07-07T07:21:00.000-04:00

I promise – once I get the time – I will clean out all the old junk on the side bar – especially the May goals, which I am not even sure I met – probably not if any weight loss goals were on the list.

Speaking of lists – I feel one coming on, so I know I'm out of my blue devil pit. Nothing like a list to demonstrate hope and optimism. Oh la. I'd write more but I have to take those dogs out for a walk. We're having so much rain I know I'll come home with wet shoes. Thank goodness the son&heir will be here next week to join me. He is a morning person like his mother.

Real spinning and knitting took place this past weekend. Photos will follow shortly.

Ta.

2008-07-06T08:42:00.000-04:00

2008-07-03T07:04:00.002-04:00

Oh La. I hadn't meant to fall silent nor to stay so long in the blue pit of sadness. A few folk have asked, though, where I am and this is an edited version of the answer I gave them.

Where did June go?

I have been in such an unproductive place for quite a while and I am just now making the effort to pull myself out of it. Not that a little drift is a bad thing – it can relax you if you let it, and I have managed to relax a bit from time to time. But I have been a little too much of a target lately, not an arrow, and my goodness, it's so easy to just sit there and let life come at me; adapting, dodging, and ducking. And once I started feeling like life was buffeting me, it was hard to reach out to folk without sounding whiny.

I knew this spring would be demanding. Dealing with work, family and personal projects consumed me from the end of February through Memorial Day. It was a period of being at the top of my game and it was fun, hard and good. Then the oddest thing happened. I knew I was sort of tired and was thinking of taking some time off but before I could arrange it, a friend told me about her daughter suffering from bullying at school. She plays the cello and another girl crushed her finger so violently she couldn't play. She didn't tell anyone till her mother finally asked her why she wasn't playing and when it all came out, the school refused to support the daughter or to take any sort of stand about bullying. And while I know the story I heard came from a horrified mother's point of view – and I know that there could be more to the story - the fact of the girls injury, the type, and the way it was handled really bothered me. No. more than bothered, it hit me personally – some connectivity thing must have been going on. You see, I used to play the violin and injured my finger badly enough that I can't really play any more and I was reminded of my own loss when I heard about hers.

But I was also distressed about the bullying issue and society's intense emotional investment in the teen years - the absurd value people give them. Of course everyone wants to be popular and have friends and we all know there are “in” crowds and we wonder why they're “in” and we aren't when they aren't that different from us, when there is nothing identifiable that should make such a difference.

I remember when I was 15 vowing as a new year's resolution, to “Be more cool” and I listed the things I had to do to be cool. I remember one was to learn who the “cool” musicians were among the popular kids at school. I can't remember what else I thought would make me “cool” but I never did achieve that status, either. One can never “be more cool” by copying others. Coolness derives from within. Mind now, I wasn't reviled and there were no bullies that I was aware of at St. G. I just wasn't cool. I wasn't friends with the cool ones. They weren't curious about me and, honestly, when I think back on it – I wasn't curious about them.

In fact, it seems to me that the real bullies are the controlling people who insist that the “cool” kids include the “outies” in their world. I mean, what right does anyone have to insist that someone else like them? One has the right to demand courtesy and even basic respect, but nobody has the right to insist they be part of someone else's group of friends. And of course, when someone, or some group, actively torments another, the adults should step in and stop it. But expecting other people to make you feel good about yourself is the worst form of abdication of your own power. If they really are mean - true bullies - why would you even want to be part of their group, why would you EVER give your power away to such people?

The main thing for me, though, was and is this cult of high school culture that seems to be so supported by adults – venerated, almost worshiped, as some halcyon period of importance and happiness. It is, on average, only 5% of your life. It's just another passage and in some ways, it's just something to get through. Why the years from 14-18 should stand out as something more important than, say, the years between 39-43, was a math equation I could never understand. I didn't intend to stop learning, growing, developing at 18 and I haven't. At that time in my own life I couldn't give it any more than 5% of my attention. I certainly wasn't going to give it my power – especially my power for happiness – not to just 5% of my life. If things weren't the best then, oughtn't I be looking forward to when they would be? Planning for that time, setting myself in the best position to take advantage of another time? Hope has to be better than despair and I certainly had experienced the truth that every year of my life gave me more freedom, more power to choose. It still does! So there is good reason for hope.

Anyway, hearing about this child's experience and how it was being viewed and handled by both her and by the adults in her life really hit me hard. I think this girl is a neat person and I hate like hell to think that she's giving away her power. And I brooded over it way too much – that popularity thing - because I, too, have felt the sting of being left out, of being disliked by someone for no reason other than .... I'm just not her type.

But once I began looking in the gloomy corners I found gloomy corners everywhere! I began to feel the loss of my aging parents and grow weepy – odd, since they were always challenging and difficult people – but they are gone now and in their place are two rather pointless sad huddles with whom you can barely have a conversation. The sound of an old bluegrass song that I used to sing to my cute little William only reminded me that he, too, is gone forever; grown into a man now, living far away. You can see where this is heading.

The man who was keeping William's hunting dog had to go in for neck surgery and we had to take that dog – making for a pack of 5 to care for. This completely rearranged our routines, because there are now two un-neutered males and they need to be dominated in a very dog pack sort of way or they will fight. This means lots of walks with leashes and lots of focus on the dog walk rather than the leisurely amble. So of course, just at this time, my own neck and arm issues flared up from their usual annoying tingling to a weekend of flat out exhausting pain. Hearing about Greg's surgery reminded me that I should take my complaints somewhere – and I did, mind you, and the doctor and I both agree that while surgery could be an option at some time, it's excessive interference at the moment.

But the fact that the idea of surgery with 6 weeks off for recovery looked appealing to me was a sign that I really needed take some time off. And I did, but even that didn't do the trick. My week became about 2 days of rest and 7 days of Other Duties.

And then, while walking with the dogs this weekend it hit me – I was giving away my power. I was giving it to “others” to “them”, to the bullies out there who didn't deserve it. In fact, they weren't even bullies. They were just other people, living their lives, feeling their desires, flinging their arrows without any specific intent towards me at all! I was not choosing, I was only reacting to other people's choices. I wasn't creating, I was adapting. And I remembered how much I enjoy creating. And I felt that surge of energy that comes when I am choosing and I am building and making and doing and loving and I remembered that every single day I can pick, choose, make, love. And the more I do that, the more all the arrows that come flying at me miss the target. They'll keep coming, they just won't hit me. Duh. And I knew that. I just forgot.

So. Now that I have remembered, I am more rested after a day of housecleaning and one Sunday off than I was after a whole week of vacation! And there is a 3 day weekend coming up that is full of opportunity! I wonder what I'll create today?

2008-05-29T19:16:00.003-04:00

From the Creativity Jar

This week the jar has me knit a pair of socks for me. This is a 2 week project and could slip on into a third week since I'm also doing a lot of spinning these days. And yes, I went looking for this slip of paper because wouldn't you? If you had sock yarn that looked like this?

Of course, this is what the Bird Family has to say about my choice, but hey - what do they know? They have feathers.

2008-05-28T06:06:00.002-04:00

Three days of perfectly splendid weather and time off at home whirled past so quickly I wonder if they happened a day ago, a week ago or last year sometime. The weight lifting session with the Rug Doctor went victoriously, though not without some muscular suffering and as an indulgence of holiday proportions, I made pizza for dinner. On my chart of gastronomic bliss, there is no higher vibration than bread baked with cheese. It is nigh on to impossible to serve me a bad pizza. I like thin crust, thick crust, stuffed crust, rosemary crust, flat bread crust. I like mozzarella cheese, I like cheddar cheese, feta cheese, fontina cheese and Stilton cheese. Really – try it sometime. About the only other topping I want on my pizza is onion, and BD, far more of a purist than I, wants no other topping, so when I make my own pizza I make half with onion and he invariably selects that half and then complains that he “doesn't like onions on a pizza.”

Jack and Little Scamp think couches are so much nicer to sleep on after Mama has cleaned them.

I snuggled up around the ibuprofen bottle Saturday night but I didn't let all those stretched muscles go to waste. I got in a good 3 mile hike on Sunday and Monday AND my first dip in the river – cold – lawsee it was cold and I hit some high notes in reaction to the insult of sudden submersion. Little Scamp swam out to see if I was alright, but the home dogs ignored me. They weren't going out in that icy water just to see what sort of tomfoolery Mama was up to. Happily, I live far enough away from anyone that I can make all the noise I want to.

Where I drank my morning coffee on Monday.

BD almost never takes these off-season swims with me and last year he couldn't swim at all – forbidden by eye doctors to get anywhere near the water. He's got the all clear this summer and on Monday we took the boat out to see what the river looks like, then stopped by the swimming beach on the way home. It was very windy though, and swimming was brief and painful, even if exhilarating.

I did have some fun with fiber, though a good deal of the weekend was spent walking from one sparklingly clean room to another, exclaiming “Isn't this house gorgeous?! Doesn't it smell wonderful?!?”, even if nobody else was around to agree with me. I finished up the knitting of cabled clutch #2. I have another to do and am resisting boredom by not casting on anything at all. Instead, I sat down with HeyBaby and that sparkley blue mohair/wool/firestar I bought from Persimmon Tree Farm at MS&W.

Outdoor spinning session with MaySkyBlue fiber.

As if to prove that the holiday was over, yesterday became humid and a little warm. It's back to cool today but the weather dot com guys promise real Virginia summer weather next week. Still and all – 3 days of perfect weather on a weekend is a rare treat and I'm glad I got to enjoy it. Hope you did too.

2008-05-25T18:31:00.007-04:00

A conversation with Wonder.

Wonder: What is that thing up in the tree there? It looks like a volkswagon made of sticks.

It's a bald eagle's nest. It's fairly new – maybe 2 years old.

Wonder: Oh my! Do you suppose it's those eagles who used to live on Robert's Landing?

Yup.

Wonder: Why did they leave their old nest?

Probably because I kept going over there to look at it. Eagles don't like to have their territory invaded and walking up beneath their nest is definitely an invasion. That's the reason we don't go up close to this one. Most of the time the use their size and presence and their calls to warn invaders away, but they'll escort you away too. One time J and I were up looking at the old nest and the mama called her mate in from the water to send us away. He wheeled in from the bay, lighted on a prominent tree a ways off from the nest and puffed himself out. We'd already decided to turn back, but I felt his urgent desire for us to leave. As we came abreast of him, he took off and soared along beside us a while and once we were the right distance away, he flew off across the field. That's typical territory defense. If we hadn't cooperated, though, he might have attacked. They'll do that sometimes.

They'll also abandon a nest that has too many parasites in it.

Wonder: How does that happen?

Eagles bring food back to their nestlings, whole fish and other small mammals. They tear strips of meat off to feed the smallest chicks and they leave whole carcasses to larger ones. But they don't toss the refuse out of the nest, they just pile more sticks on top of the leftovers. It's thought they don't toss out the garbage because they don't want to attract other animals, especially bears, to the base of their nests. No parent wants a bear climbing up to the kiddies bedroom.

Wonder: They certainly are devoted parents, though I suppose all birds are.

Yes, and they're devoted to each other. Though there is some evidence that they will part if they fail to breed, most Bald Eagles mate for life and seem content to live with only each other for society. Thus, unlike geese, who have the society of the flock, if a mate dies and the widowed bird is still of breeding age, it'll mate again.

When they mate they do the most amazing acrobatics up in the air, wheeling and circling and locking talons to cartwheel across the sky. I saw this happen a few months ago. It was glorious.

Wonder: Oh – how long do eagles live?

Bald Eagles live about 30 years – about as long as a horse. It takes 4 years for their mature coloration to appear and even in adults, you'll often seen brown feathers among the white if you are fortunate enough to get up close to one. That brown speckled bird that you see hanging out with the buzzards is probably a young bald eagle.

Wonder: How many chicks does a pair usually have?

There can be as many as three eggs in the nest, but since they're laid some time – even some days – apart, they hatch at different times. The first to hatch often kills it's siblings, especially if there isn't enough food. Certainly the first born will have a day or two of growth on him and can out-scramble the others for food. If there are three eggs hatched, the third seldom lives to maturity and it's a close thing if even the second egg makes it. In fact, if the parents suspect they won't be able to feed two chicks – if frozen lakes or streams don't thaw soon enough, they'll bury one of the eggs beneath more sticks, so it doesn't hatch and only rear one. That's another reason the eagle nests grow so large.

Wonder: How big do they get?

They can grow over time to as big as 10 feet across, weighing several tons. Sometimes they get blown down in storms or when the tree dies and topples. If the babies are big enough, the parents will continue to raise them on the ground.

Wonder: Why didn't Ben Franklin want the Bald Eagle as the country's symbol?

He thought they were nasty dirty animals, thieving from other fish hawks and seen often dining with the buzzards, on carrion, which is true. They do steal from the ospreys out here - but then, I've seen ospreys win out in those battles. And I've seen many a Bald Eagle gathered around dead animals on the edge of the road or field. John James Audubon hated them too and thought as Ben Franklin did. He wrote some fairly scathing comments about Bald Eagles. Of course, I'm not offended by the carrion eaters. They're very important – think what your life would be like without refuse removal. Life in the wild would be no different.

Wonder: How can you tell the difference between buzzards and eagles when they're riding the thermals?

The buzzard (which real scientists call vultures – but which John Allen called “meat fat turkeys”) has a bent wingspan – he looks more like the batman symbol. Eagles have straight wings and of course, if you are lucky, the flash of tail and head will confirm your sighting. They are very majestic as they soar high above and are even more thrilling when they're up close.

Once as I was driving down the road I saw a bald eagle carrying a rabbit which was almost too heavy a load. He could rise only as high as my truck window. I slowed down to match his pace and we went along together, the eagle and I, till he came to a tree line that he knew, made a 90 degree turn to the right and flew on off to Farmer's Hall Creek. That was in the late 1970's when eagles were still a rare sight. Now they're more common, but they're still a thrill to see. So thrilling, I almost feel as if I ought to belong to the eagle totem.

Wonder: So you think the eagle has something to teach you on a spiritual level?

What animal in nature doesn't? But yes – I feel a special kinship to the Bald Eagle. I too, like to live with my one mate, deep in the woods, along the banks of the water. I too prefer the big picture to the details. I'm not much of a flier, but I am not afraid of heights– at least, not now that I no longer have children to raise. But in our mythology, our culture, even our advertising, Eagles symbolize the ability to see the highest truth or highest viewpoint, the connection from earth to sky, spiritual energy - that we have the ability to reach great heights when we find the courage to do so and that freedom is our birth right

Of course – this is all highly symbolic – since birds are no more free than any other animal in nature, with their struggle for home, their quest for food, the fragility of their young with no flock society to raise them if their parents can't. Sometimes, I think the only truly free animal is a well loved pet. So if I were choosing to come back as an animal and I could choose between a Bald Eagle and a Haile dog – well .... that's no choice at all.

Wonder: What about Bald Eagles in mythology?

Well, my wondering friend, that will have to wait for another day, because I smell the charcoal on the grill. That means its time to go cook dinner. We shall have to talk again about our brother, Bald Eagle.

2008-05-22T07:44:00.002-04:00

It's Thursday, which means it's time to hear from the Creativity Jar. This week I made sure it told me to:

Drink my morning coffee on the pier.

We've had the longest coolest spring, with lots of rain alternating with crisp blue days. This has kept the mayflies away, (wicked biting flies that usually show up mid-May and pretty much ruin the outdoors for the next 4 weeks) which is nice, but it's made the mornings both too cool and too damp with dew for sitting on piers to watch sunrises. Sunday is supposed to be 80 and sunny, warming up both air and river, so Monday morning, a delicious Monday holiday, ought to be the perfect time to settle down with cup, camera, and maybe a little cotton knitting.

Here's what the bird flock has to say about this.

As for last week's directive, to research and write about bald eagles, I have done a good bit of reading about them but till last night I couldn't figure out how to write about them without sounding like a 4th grader. I've got an idea now though and this weekend, this happy glorious holiday weekend, I'll take the time to put it all down in pixels and share with the curious.

Good thing I've had the creativity jar, though, since I've been decidedly uncreative and unproductive with fiber lately. I'm still knitting on the cabled clutches – when I knit at all – and I'm totally inspired by C's sweater from her handspun yarn and wishing I were as productive and thinking I could be and, alas, not being so. I will blame it on dog hair and computers, since I'm using the creative parts of my brain to learn how to use the new software at work and my beloved dogs have decided that shedding will be the next New Olympic Sport and they want spots on the American team. My house is white with dog hair – and Priss hasn't even begun to shed yet. She always waits till last, when the real hot weather gets here and we haven't had a day above 80 all spring.

So. Rug cleaning happens on Saturday, along with all the other household chores – but the next two days I plan to fill with fiber and creativity and leisurely mornings on the pier with my coffee.

2008-05-19T07:01:00.002-04:00

Oooh la la! Watch out Virgo, here comes a full-on week which brings with it, not only a Full Moon but a couple of massive transits to your Love Zone. In other words, while it's may be not quite as powerful as the eclipses which changed your life in recent years, it is a week when you can do anything as long as it doesn't involve standing still. Harness the powers in the ethers and look at where you want to make a change. You know it's not going to happen by itself, so…

This is from MsHoroscope. Hope the stars will point out the fun path to me – I'm all for a little change now and then, but I want it to be good change. Like the changes we made for Mama the past 2 weeks. Unlike the first time we moved her, all hurried and resisted and at the same time that Daddy was so sick, this time Sister (and her wonderful husband) and I had time to shop and organize and move and hang pictures and make her room totally ready for her so she walked into a lovely space with Brand New Furniture bought Just For Her. Presents are important for mama. I weeded her clothes, which have suffered for their bouts with a commercial laundry. There will have to be a day soon when I do some mega-shopping for her – but I am an inordinately lucky shopper. Evidently it's not limited to wedding shopping – I found all the furniture last weekend in one outlet place and merely had to point it out to sister for her approval. I suspect it's a Virgo gift. She, being a Libra, has to weigh things a bit more than I do.

Of course moving is a slow tedious process and anything involving Mama is about 6 times slower than the anything involving the rest of the world. I'm not really frustrated by this, but sometimes I do forget. We worked straight through yesterday from 8:30 to 3:30 without a lunch break. I was wiped when I got home – 2 hours of driving later. She called around 9, tired but happy in her new surroundings. In a few weeks I will go back and putter about a bit.

So now I get to shift gears back to New Computer Programs.

Gosh! Just think of all the brain cells I'm creating as I push my little cerebellum to accept New Ideas. And yes yes – I have been reading up on bald eagles. Next weekend, when I have cleaned the pit – I will write all about them. I'm off to hang out the next load of laundry now – Ta.

2008-05-17T06:56:00.000-04:00

Staff has had their first training on the new software and they'll be back today for self-study and to put away all the books that have piled up in the book drop the past 3 days. They're to put special emphasis on dealing with fines and overdues since we're having a fine free week next week. For the most part, they like this new software a little bit better than the old program. I also see that they're stimulated to pay attention because they're working with something new. They're energized and a little excited.

I understand the feeling – I feel it too, though I'm still stumbling all over the back room stuff, like getting the machine to read patron barcodes, when it happily reads the item barcodes. I got a help desk guy yesterday who not only didn't know how to solve the problem, but couldn't keep the exasperation – and disdain – out of his voice as he worked on his last call of the week. He kept telling me what my problem was – which I already knew – and not telling me how to solve it. I knew ...I could sense when he no longer knew the answer but didn't want to admit it to me nor ask for help from higher up. He did at last and the answer isn't pretty but it's still an answer. At least I didn't “feed” the answer to him.

Have you guessed? I'm probably going to have to reenter every patron barcode in the system. Reenter, as in type each one individually.

Off now to move Mama to her new digs. Be back sometime tomorrow. Ta.

2008-05-15T07:26:00.003-04:00

You got it Cathy – I have a series of at least 8 planned already, with a few sketches in a notebook along with written ideas. And yes – they just might become wall decorations. I'm getting pretty excited about it all. Be sure, I'll share it all here.

The good news is that all the databases transferred from one program to the next. The expensive, laconic, computer wizard finished up his part of the job by 4 o'clock. Today I wade in and begin setting up parameters: days closed, circulation limits, fines, etc. Later in the afternoon my second in command will come in and we'll practice using everything. Tomorrow the rest of the staff comes in to learn how to work the system. Saturday they get more practice all by their lonesomes – and check in all the books that have been left in the book drop while we've been closed – because I'll be back in Richmond this weekend, moving Mama into her new digs.

We'll open on Monday with a Fine Free Week. Because no matter how much we publicized that we were going to be closed this week – most people didn't know. This will mitigate their disappointment some.

There's a new member of the Bird Family. He came from Culpepper, VA, purchased at a darling little shop: Sara Schneidman Gallery. I love shopping in Culpper – and dining there and the beautiful drive west, out Rt. 3, once you get past Wilderness. He joins the flock as they comment on what the Creativity Jar has to say this week.

“Research and write something about Bald Eagles”.

I live within a corridor that is chock full of these majestic birds. Any boat trip up the Rappahannock River, between Tappahannock and Fredericksburg will thrill you with views of their soaring performance as they wheel about overhead, serenading you with their distinctive call. A pair lives on our farm and I see them daily – perching in the pine tree on the bank of the marsh, swooping down to catch a fish, sometimes, just watching me when I'm working in the garden. I know where their nest is but I stay away from it because I want them to live here always, feeling safe and honored. I take it as a tremendous compliment that they choose to live so close to me.

If I were to have a totem, I am sure it would be the Bald Eagle. But I don't know that much about them – their habits, their needs, their meaning in folk lore. I've always intended to find out about them, but like so many good intentions, that project has remained a paving stone in my life's path. Till now, that is, thanks to the CJ. I'll post my piece here next weekend.

2008-05-14T07:54:00.005-04:00

If you really go with what you feel deeply, you have less choice than you previously thought. You also, though, have a lot less to worry about. Doubts will soon give way to inspiring certainties.

Thank you MrHoroscope – you do have an uncanny way of putting your finger on the nub. I am nervous about this network upgrade and yet there really isn't anything left I can do. It has to go alright – but I will be glad for those inspiring certainties sweeping away my doubts. The good thing is I can dress casual the rest of the week.

Today is a glorious crisp spring day – a wee bit cool, as this whole spring has been – and at last I've slipped out into the yard to see what's going on. BD always complains that our yard is too big and too difficult to cut – but he is wrong. It's full of little rooms

and hidden surprises just down this little tunnel

or behind this little green wall .

I am a sucker for paths that snake off into the woods and I have lots of them, both in the yard and in the woods.

Along with being energized by the glory that is May in Virginia, I am also inspired. Among you quilters out there, I am sure Janet Crowther is a familiar name but she is new to me and it's not her quilting but her felting that I have fallen in love with. I discovered her in this magazine
and am challenged to try my hand at needle felting by this lovely purse.

I am thinking of a series of bags – with their flat canvas of felt just waiting to be embellished. Perhaps an ocean scene in blues and greens – or some other crowd scene that begs for layers of colors. Perhaps this could be a summer project. We shall see. For sure, I have made copious notes of the flood of ideas that washed over me as read the pages of this article.
Honestly – there is nothing quite so exhilarating as being inspired by a fellow fiber enthusiast.
Happy fiber joys to you all today.

2008-05-12T07:30:00.007-04:00

How Green Was My County

Only, it's King and Queen County, but heck, I've got plenty of cousins in K&Q too. This is what it looked like on Saturday when I rode over to help sister buy furniture for Mama's new place.

Plenty of green tunnels

This is Beazley, where Essex, Caroline and K&Q all come to a point. The building is the new Rappahannock Indian Baptist Church. That name always makes me smile.

And this is Helmut - just up the road from Newtown - where Cousin Teddy used to be postmistress. BD & I stopped here when we rode our bikes from Richmond once, lo those decades ago.

Here's where the Alexander's used to live - and where we used to buy butter made from Lily the
Cow.

Not picturesque, but yet another post office where another cousin is postmistress. Hmmm. Evidently it runs in the family.

And proof that you don't have to go far to get rural (click to enlarge):

Happily, the rain had stopped by the time I got to Richmond and Happiest of All – we found everything we needed to buy at the prices we wanted to pay. Evidently I'm not just a lucky wedding shopper – I'm a flat out, all 'round lucky shopper.

When we were done, sister took me by the new place and then I spent the afternoon with Dad, going over old files and just spending time together. He's weaker physically, than he was last year, but less depressed and he's been making measurable progress with physical therapy this month. This is because sister takes him to PT (held in the building next door). She says she'll stop doing this at the end of May though and it'll be up to him to keep going.

I did the Mother's Day thing yesterday. This is not a holiday my own household celebrates, though we can't help responding to the constant promotion. So when I got home and BD asked “what do you want to do for Mother's Day?” I told him I wanted to brush out all the dogs, vacuum the rugs and spend the rest of a rainy afternoon in bed. Got to do all three.

Minuscule knitting progress and no spinning at all was accomplished this weekend.

2008-05-10T06:16:00.005-04:00

Thanks Cathy. That's just what I thought too, when I saw the single box of rovings in the Peavine Hollow booth. I bought a third of what they had – about 24 ounces of it – enough for a sweater. It was the colors that really drew me in, rich, luscious, like something dug out of the earth. I haven't had much time to spin them but I'll plug away at them each week and by fall I can begin knitting.

I'm off to help sister buy furniture for Mama's new apartment, because Mama is moving next weekend from one AL place to another. Long story – not worth telling, probably not the last one either – but the new place comes unfurnished and neither sister nor I have ever bought furniture before. Yes. 50+ and ++ and we're furniture store virgins. We don't need much – fortunately she already has a bed and a lifting recliner, nor does the stuff have to be furniture for a lifetime – but it must all be wheelchair accessible.

I'll spend the night, visit Dad and do the Mother's Day thing tomorrow morning.

And my cyber twin is, of course, going to be doing the Same Thing this week! So for you, dear C, I offer you this good astro-news:

Mars, the planet of action, moves into marvelously show-y-off-y Leo today ... overall it means we are all going to be a little more out there, a little less defensive, we might spend less time worrying about our families and more time working out how to shine, personally and professionally. For Cancerians and Capricorns in particular, this Mars move is a welcome break, for Leos and Aquarians, it means the Mars madness is just beginning!

Here's what I've been knitting on

There will be a bright red one too - and there will be three of us sporting our clutches around town in a couple of weeks.

- and here is something I might knit out of that Spirit Trail silk I bought (lo those many years ago).

See y'all later, alligators

2008-05-08T07:27:00.006-04:00

May Goals

Thanks for the comments gang. I suffer from serious comment envy so yours are especially welcome.

I have only 2 days this week in the office and, though I was good as gold before MS&W, I still have to make sure everything is in order for next week, when we shut the place down, get in wizards and carpet cleaners, and put in completely new library software. (and learn how to use it before we open back up to the public) Not much time for reflection or literary efforts.

I did make some May goals, which, evidently, is a good thing, since the end of the month Mercury starts going retrograde again, but there are no stellar threats to communication systems for the next few weeks. I can use all the astro-aide I can get too, for sister and I are moving Mama from one AL place to another and this time it involves buying furniture. Odd that two 50+ year olds have never bought furniture before but there it is – we've been salvation army and heirloom decorators all our lives.

Knowing that I don't have much free time this month I have been snatching at every spare minute I can find to play with my MS&W toys. Here are some examples:

Border Leicester that was already on the bobbin - plied up it's as soft and scrunchy as I'd hoped. There's a lot more where that comes from but this is 150 yards.

Mohair/wool blend from Peavine Hollow - though I suspect this particular color has no wool in it - I can't find anything but long silky fibers. The other colors have more of a wooly feel to them.

Especially the brown and peach colors. Here are both the control yarn card and a sample spun and plied. The goal is a sweater in all the colors by Christmas.

and here's what TheBirds have to say:

2008-05-05T21:23:00.047-04:00

Ahhhhhh.

The sound of the perfectly satisfied festival goer when she finally gets that last bag of loot unloaded, the coffee perked, and her feet up on the couch. That was what you heard last night about 7:30, just before I gave BD the point by point review of my wonderful weekend at Maryland Sheep and Wool.

The first time I went, my Big Darling took me – because K had had to back out for a family reason. I've been able to go every year since then, but poor K had never been able to swing the trip till this year and let me tell you, the second most fun thing in the world to visiting MS&W for the first time is sharing it with a friend for her first time. Oh did we have a grand time.

We'd watched the weather forecasters anxiously the whole week as they backtracked from rain all weekend long to rain sometimes to cloudy days to some sunshine. By the time we were actually packing our suitcases we didn't know what to take and filled the car trunk with raincoats and rubber boots and sweaters and jackets and turtlenecks and tank tops and jeans .... and on Friday it was so durn hot I wore shorts. I have since decided though, that from this day forward I will take only pants and shorts with pockets that zip, button or close with Velcro for I did so this time and discovered that there is no freedom like being purse-free!

The drive up 301 to the La Quinta in Jessup MD was easy because on a work day before rush hour the only people driving do so for their work. They're people who aren't anxiously wanting to get home or get to some play destination and they drive politely, carefully and skillfully. They are professionals. We made good time, checked in and were delighted to find that outside our window was a little remnant of rural Maryland.

I could have been at home, except, of course, we haven't any rocks.

We had dinner at a chain restaurant – one of many along Rt. 175 – and then stayed up till nearly midnight, watching and commenting on What Not To Wear and making plans to turn each other in to Stacy and Clinton. Neither K nor I have television in our homes so these shows are always fun for us.

There were half a dozen obvious festivalees in the dining room on Saturday, a few might have been vendors, and while we were all friendly, I didn't get anybody's name – or worse yet – if I did, fiber thoughts soon pushed everything else out of my brain. I'd forgotten about the traffic thing, since I've been working at the Spirit Trail Booth for several years, and vendors have to get there an hour before the customers. We got caught in the slow stream of cars on their way to the fairgrounds. Happily, both K and I were too ready to be pleased to mind and we actually got there pretty close to 10 o'clock. Already things looked like this!

Our first stop was the Spirit Trail Booth for hugs all around.

The star studded booth included C from Knitters Review.

There wasn't time to chat much beyond hellos, for shoppers and spenders were already beginning to clog the booth and the aisles. Soon we were among the throng as we poked our way through all the different booths. I had the Goldings as my first serious stop because I wanted to introduce K to his marvelous spindles. I was a little confused though, because his booth was smaller this year- only one wheel on display and no looms. I'd heard last year that the fair was trying to get people to give up their double booths so more vendors could be invited, so I suppose this is what happened to the Golding booth. I almost missed him. It was K who spotted them first and we spent nearly an hour there trying every spindle.

The trouble with Golding spindles is that they are all wonderful. I fell in love with 4 of them – two minis and two 2-inch ones – but only one of them came home with me. Both K and I were undecided right up to the moment we got to the cash register, when the lure of those little mini spindles proved that it's not size that matters.

My new Golding just demanded I purchase her the perfect roving and fortunately, I found some right next door at Carolina Homespun. Buffalo Gals bison roving - proving once again that if you spin, you can go high end for half the price. That bison yarn runs $70 a skein but a bag of roving is only $20 and I can get the exact thickness I want if I spin it myself.

K and I picnicked at the car, then, while I joined the KR bunch gathered outside the main building she did some more exploring.

We did some more booth sleuthing, including a stop at The Yarn Barn of Kansas for serious DVD purchases for the library, then parted again while she went to look at animals and I went to hear Bill Mayhew tell stories. I had a little time before the program started and I wanted something fiberish to play with while I waited, so I stopped by the Cormo breeder's association booth where this jumped into my shopping bag. Can't you just see a fair isle hat in these colors?

We hooked up again to check out the skein and garment competition where I fell in love with these two fellows.

There was lots of strong,

fine,

good quality

lovely fiberwork in the competition this year, but other than the two felted items – I wasn't knocked off my feet, the way I have been in other years. Still and all it is always wonderful to see the work of other fiber artists. Also – this year's judge (s?) was very generous in her comments and compliments. Lots of thought went into the judging and you can get some good tips by reading their comments.

The day remained sunny, the temperature rose to the sticky point and when that happens, soft dipped ice cream is the only answer. Chocolate dipped in peanut butter. Yum! With treats in hand we poked about carefully in more booths, tempted, admiring, but we were about shopped for the day. A final stop at Spirit Trail to see how they were doing, a look in at the fleece table, an admiring view of the sock machine knitters

and we were ready to head back to the hotel. I offered the Ravelry party to K for the evening's entertainment but she was as ready as I to have dinner and crash in our room. I'm sorry to have missed any of the gatherings, but our motto for the weekend was always “only as much as gives you pleasure” and by golly – we had had all the pleasure we wanted. Showers and sleep were the only real temptations.

Dinner was another pleasant chain restaurant meal, well within our budgets and impressively satisfying. I dreamed all night of my pretty little Golding while I tossed and turned in my comfortable, but unfamiliar bed. I was glad when it was 6:30 and we could just get up and play with our new toys. Breakfast was jollier on Sunday morning. A bus load of attendees was sampling the waffle iron. Other tourists joined us and asked what the big draw was. K & I shared tales of the festival and I gave them my catalog – which is why I am having such a hard time remembering the names of all the booths we visited.

This time, minus the traffic, we parked right by the front gate; a splendid spot because we could dash back to the car with our purchases and travel lightly about the fair. I finally fulfilled my desire for one of those elegantly stitched hand made brooms. K succumbed as well and at Persimmon Tree Farm

I picked up two 4 oz batches of magical roving carded with glitter.

I am imagining deep steel grey bands between stripes of rich colors in fire red and night blues. At Peavine Hollow Farm I fell victim to the lure of a sweater's worth of these colors

while K made love to baby mohair goats. Peavine Hollow is in VA and sell at very few shows. They are, without a doubt, the best source for mohair locks – the cleanest, prettiest, most beautifully dyed locks of any vendor I've ever seen.

We were both smitten with the SCA folk and their card weaving.

We spent a long time at their booth, close to an hour I'm sure, and left with [Cheap-n-Sleazy Student] card weaving kits.

Not more than 30 feet away we both fell in love with the triangle looms. Weaving began singing siren songs to us, lightly on Saturday and a little louder on Sunday. Neither K nor I have houses (or time) that could hold real looms, but I remember once saying I'd never knit again ... I've learned to never say never.

M caught up with us outside the triangle loom booth, where I purchased their instructional DVD. A found us at lunch by the Bingo hall; a lunch of lamb sandwiches spread thickly with mint jelly. Perfectly delicious.

K wanted to watch the sheep dog demonstration – no strain for this dog gal – and I fell in love all over again with these darling canine partners.

And that's how the weekend went. Fiber ruled. I was wickedly tempted by many wonderful yarns, but I kept pulling out of the recesses of my memory, images of the many sweater quantities of yarn, languishing already in my house. A final tour of the main building, a firm resolve to not buy even that lovely sport weight wool selling for a song and a last stop at Spirit Trail to hug goodbye and pick up this unusual colored fiber,

and we were ready to get home.

It was a splendid show. It was all the fun I could hope for. It lived up to its reputation for K. It was just ... just wonderful. Glorious enough to last till next year.

2008-05-02T07:57:00.002-04:00

It's here at last. The day of departure for MS&W. K will be here about noon or so and we'll putter our way on up to Jessup MD, where we're staying. We have no plans for tonight but we have 3 hours in the car to make some. At this point, I'd like to go to the Ravelry party on Saturday night, but who knows how tired I'll be by then. I am, for sure, going to be at the Knitters Review gathering where Missy C will be signing her book. I want very much to catch the story teller – who has 3 performances this weekend, and to look at what's being auctioned on Saturday. I don't need to buy anything. I don't have much $. My house is packed to the gills with possessions. But if a drum carder were to go cheap .....

I'm taking two cabled clutch projects with me, the upstairs one and the downstairs one. I'll also take a drop spindle even though I am sure I'll also buy one. I just feel that there are a couple of drop spindles out there waiting to become mine. Right now, the only fiber I'd seriously consider buying would be some Blue Faced Leicester and the only other thing I can really use is a pair, or two, of sock blockers.

I'm taking the camera. I promise to write a full report when I return. Best of all – I'm going with a light heart because the weather forecast has moderated to just a little bit of rain and because I got EVERYTHING done at work that ought to be done. Yup. Completely caught up on everything, even if I weren't going away for a few days. Such a happy happy place to be.

Hope to see some of you there.

2008-05-01T07:14:00.002-04:00

I was just reading (and admiring the photos) where C has begun knitting a sweater with her handspun yarn and it got me to thinking how different it feels to knit with yarn you've known since its beginning – since it was still on a lamb or on a drum carder or in some other unspun state. There is a tremendous difference and I've been trying to think of metaphors that illuminate that difference. Mill spun yarn is so perfect and while it also has many other delightful qualities, i. e. softness, loft, sheen – once you knit a while with it, you know what it's going to do, how it will communicate, what it has to say. Mill spun yarn is like reading a text book – once you grasp the author's style it is up to the information to keep you interested.

Handspun yarn is like talking to someone you've never met before. You never know just what will come out of her mouth so you listen more closely, you use more than just your ears and voice to communicate. You indulge in eye contact, you savor subtle scents. Altogether, you just stay more alert with a newcomer and any handspun yarn is going to be that. That alertness translates into a richer, fuller knitting experience, something akin to eating a new and foreign cuisine. Perhaps the great spinners you know; the Judith Mac's and the Patsy Z's, can spin a predictable yarn that brings with it only mild surprises if any at all. Those of us who are amateurs in the art of spinning will find knitting with our own yarn a tactile experience fraught with subtle shifts and changes, surprises and delights.

Congratulations, C!

Because I expect my creativity to actually be overstimulated this weekend at MS&W, I am not picking anything from the Creativity Jar, but here is what TheBirds have to say about things.

2008-04-30T07:05:00.001-04:00

Life at TheCastle moved swiftly from big deal entertaining for the library to taking care of family business. My mother will be moving from the assisted living place she's in to a different one and sister and I have been looking around. Sunday we spent looking at what's available down here. There are possibilities - clean, nice, bright, safe - but unfortunately, they are full scale nursing homes, and that means the residents there are mostly people who have slid fairly deeply into dementia. As sister put it – the folks have all gone there to die. Mama still has some living left to do. The one good assisted living place won't take people in who are at level 3, which is where Mama is.

We've had serious heavy rains the past few days – NOT with the tornadoes, which were south of Richmond, (we are east of Richmond) but with enough rain to at last restore the ground water that dried up last summer. What a difference in attitude I have when I know we're going into summer with enough water in the ground. Of course, all the work I'd set aside while we were doing last minute preparation for our Weekend was still sitting on my desk on Monday. I've been ticking down through that list fairly steadily, but it doesn't make for relaxing days at work.

I'm knitting away on the cabled clutches and they will be my travel knitting, because, in spite of weather forecasts and several of our party having to drop out of the trip, I am still going to MS&W on Friday. Yup. K and I will go because she has never been and I would like to smell sheep again – even wet sheep. It means missing out on being a trophy wife in Annapolis with BD who will be a commentator on May 3, at a three-way race that pits the Sultana shallop against two of its cousins in a competition for the Captain John Smith Cup, as part of the Maryland Maritime Heritage Festival in Annapolis.

Well, that is the way it is. Our WWW was double booked with the area Garden Club of Virginia day. There are only so many good weekends in the springtime and everyone wants to use them for outdoor events. And some of them aren't really all that good. For sure, if it's going to rain, I'd rather be in a sheep barn than at a regatta.

I notice that blogland is fairly dull these days and that is the only comfort I have about my own boring writing. Still and all, I am persevering because, one of these days I am sure I'll be inspired again and till then, well, there's always the chance someone is curious about TheQueen.

Happy Hump Day.

2008-04-27T08:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday's writer's workshop went really well. David Robbins was dynamic and energetic and passionate. We had one high school boy who I suspect really benefited. He's the "smart boy" in his class and Robbins accepted his smart-boy-ness but also pried up the lid of ego and, in a manly way, slipped new ideas into this boy's head. I could really see the wheels turning. Something may grow there that will benefit us all.

Mostly the people who were there were dilettantes and dabblers. They may never write anything that gets published, but they might produce something creditable, something they're proud of, something they'd share with friends or on-line. One woman - local newspaper writer, single mom clawing her way to a college degree via Internet and off-site classes at the local community college - yes - she came away with some valuable tools, with some guidance that gently but seriously pushed her away from a bad version of a good idea and towards a better way of developing it.

Yup. He was good.

The weekend wound up with a formal dinner for 8 at the B&B. I missed the autumn one but BD joined me at this one and the food was delicious and conversation was lively and vivid. But this big event is over with and I am glad. I'm ready to do my Jill Horner stuff with computers in the back room. I'm ready to knit the afternoon away. I'm ready to go somewhere next weekend and drink wine with girlfriends.