a smaller life

resolutions, 2010

Well, hello, 2010. A shiny new decade! Time to revise.

 

Resolutions, 2010

1.    Don't die.

2.    Postpone dying.

• Quit smoking again. The answer to stress is not to light a cigarette, damnit, and it will never, EVER be "just this one". This lesson is one I should have learned a long, long time ago. the majority of studies I'm reading show that nicotine + MS = bad mix, so let's get my shit together, here.
• Also: listen to my body, listen to my doctors, stay educated on MS but don't let it become my life. I am my life.
• My body is not my life, but it's definitely my vehicle, so stay on top of things. Regular massage. Yoga. Keep active, eat well, pay attention.
• Read labels.
• Stop buying crap food that has labels.
• RUN MORE: run as much as my body can stand. The better shape I'm in, the harder it will be for this disease to chip away at me.
• Enter more races. I'm competitive by nature, so it keeps me on track. Talk about racing, too, because accountability is good for me.

3.    Consume less.

• Create more. Learn to make even more stuff. BREAK OUT THAT SEWING MACHINE!
• Drive less, bike and walk more.
• Grow and cook our food. Let's make 2010 the year that I finally get rid of that black thumb! I want to grow the kickass- est garden of all gardens ever. Okay, let's just aim for a decent heirloom garden this year. I don't need to win any awards, just successfully grow something other than tomatoes and herbs.
• Simplify, reuse, repurpose. Compost stuff! Recycle everything!

4.     Do better.

• Try harder, remain grateful, keep perspective.
• Be kind.
• Sam Beckett always had it so damned right. "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."

5.    Challenge myself.

• Allow myself some vulnerability. Everything is not a Feat Of Strength. Leave the country for the 4th of July this year; I don't need to push through that bullshit. I can just pack a bag and spend a few days in Canada, and that's not weak; that's  smart. Also, probably relaxing as hell and hey, might as well put that passport to work a little, right?
• Be brave. Without being stupid.
• Read things I’m not naturally drawn to, broaden my horizons a little. I’m beginning to feel I’m  too specialized.
• Write more. I’ve been getting lazy. Get back on track and start talking about simplifying and start talking about chronic illness. Less of these brief photo- posts and more substance. Refine what I have to say and really say it.
• Take more photos, too.
• Try new things. Like singing when I feel like singing, for starters. That's a good goal. 11 years and my husband has never heard me do one of the things I used to do best. How dumb is that?

6.     Remember that we only get so many days. Make them count.

 

 

 

tree swings

Waiting for pots to boil at the Baltimore studio. Snow + tree swings = instant fun.

 

 

details

 

In the rinse bins.

 

photoblog

In the Easton studio today, and to hell with the snow. (The snow! I love the snow!)

I woke up this morning to Cacie knocking on my door- which seemed rather inevitable, I suppose. I've always known that in working from home I was running the risk of oversleeping and thus waking up to my employees, but I only just got to experience it today. Agh, fail. I'm spending tonight making up for my lost morning knitting/ coffee time.

Instead of a post, behold: the Easton Studio.

Herod, lolling about in large quantities of silk- cashmere yarn:

Steam off the dyepots.

 

     

Yarn in the racks...

 

  

Elissa beating Gryphon with a skein of yarn...

 

 

 

A pretty typical day, really. :)

 

points of light

 

 

"The continuous narrative of existence is a lie. There is no continuous narrative, there are lit-up moments, and the rest is dark." -Jeanette Winterson

(Thanks, T.)

oh my coldness

It is freezing out here. Literally. FREEZING. This was our rinse water at the Baltimore studio today.

 

 

Cacie and I went out to the barn this morning to fetch tools; we just stood there, staring at our frozen bins of water, rather in shock. This isn't even the worst month of winter- we still have January and February to look forward to! That measuring cup has hot water in it, to help us unfreeze some skeins that needed repair- didn't make a dent in that frozen water. Luckily, we're doing repairs (indoors!) and twisting/ tagging today.

 

 

 

Even with the weather, though, I'm happy. The overall vibe at the studio (and oh, how I hate to use the word "vibe") is one of cheerful industry. This is so different from so much of my previous work; even when the weather is miserable, when we're outside working with cold water and wet fiber, I'm 329472390358 times happier than I ever was in a warm cubicle. That seems to me the biggest indicator possible that I'm exactly where I need to be right now; working in the winter wind, huddled over a stove, making colors. It's definitely not everyone's idea of a dream job, but oh, it's nice to be happy. I think about where I was at this time last year, and it all seems like another life.

 

 

 

sometimes other people say it better

"Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you."

— Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid)

a quick peek

 

It's been a good week- decent weather, a fair amount of yarn and lots of rovings dyed up- and a ton of laughter.

 

Exhibit A: Baltimore Elf Corrine with a merino- silk Fu Manchu.

 

 

 

Exhibit B: Baltimore Elf Cacie with her hands of blue.

I wish I had a photo of our third Elf, Noelle, but she always seems to be moving whenever I have my camera out. As proof, I offer about three seconds of video, instead.

 

We're having a good time out here. How many people have this much fun at work? It makes up for those cold, rainy miserable dyeing days we occasionally have.

 

 

 

catching up

 

I know, I know. I don't write, I don't call. The truth is, I've been so absolutely wiped out lately- there is so much going on (so much to write about!) and I've been struggling with my health- a bad mix if there ever was one. I take my pills and my shots like a good girl, but only recently have I begun to feel what seems like the beginnings of improvement- and I say that with great reservations, as it's only the last two days or so that really seemed better.

We opened the new studio, Sam and I are playing with the idea of (finally!) demolishing the kitchen, dyeing has stepped up at least two- fold (if not three- fold), my daughter is a full- blown teenager with a boyfriend, I'm still not driving which leaves me feeling a little claustrophobic, and I'm suddenly feeling just how responsible Gryphon and I are to at least nine other people, not to mention our customers and oh, yes, of course- our own families. There doesn't seem like there is too much room in there for me to be sick, which is the way I traditionally approach any sort of physical infirmity- placing it firmly on the back burner with a stern I'm sorry, I just don't have time for this right now.

It turns out, I don't get that option. MS turns out to be a prima donna of sicknesses; if I'm not paying attention to my body's cues, she'll step right up center stage and remind me exactly who is in charge here. We're learning how to live together, and I'm quietly plotting my revenge with my nightly shots and what seems like fistfulls of pills, because no matter what this disease thinks, damnit, I'm the one in charge here. I'm determined to subjugate this in some way, to regain control over my body and my time.

Learning to take a proactive stance on my health- on realigning how I live, focusing on the right fuel and rest and exercise and staying informed and not just blowing this whole thing off as another thing that will go away- that's new, and it eats up more of my resources, too, but I'm learning, and trying. 

In the meantime, I knit- nothing that I can show, all holiday knitting, but it's happening- mittens and shawls and socks, as well as the world's most boring project of all time- a six- foot tube scarf in stockinette for Kiddo with her own handdyed yarn. It's a labor of love, to be sure; God knows I'm not knitting this because it is interesting in any way- but I know she'll adore it. 

So I'm here, intact, although some days it really does feel like "intact" is all I can manage. I have some designs cooking in all that holiday knitting, including a lovely pair of colorwork mittens in both Skinny Bugga and Djinni Sock as part of a collaboration with the ever- lovely Kate of Dragonfly Fibers. I'm focusing on getting well, and working hard, and all the sweet bits in the details of life, the stuff that really matters- the kindnesses of friends, my daughter's smile, my husband's hands, good food, crisp mornings, flannel sheets, cats, reading Sherlock Holmes stories in bed, strong morning runs, apple cider and milkmen and hot coffee.

In the end, that's all that really counts, right? The small moments, they're all we have.