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Oh, Stitches West, how I love thee. I had a fantastic time, and I didn’t spend all that much. Relatively. I think last year, which was my first, was just such a shocker – I had no idea so much gorgeous yarn existed in the world. I was scared I’d never see it again, so I bought it all. This year, I was able to cruise the aisles, either recognizing the names of the companies or grabbing their cards, confident that touching the fiber was enough – I could always order it later. God bless the internet.

We met for breakfast at Jack’s Bistro in Jack London. Exiting my car, I recognized Mariko walking in front of me by her polkadot bag and her lime-green shoes. And here we are:

That’s me (I love the way that shot makes my ass take over the entire picture), Elizabeth, Marie, Hedi, Yvette, and Mariko.

And we’re off! Look at just one section of just one aisle:

And though I knew I would shop alone, braving the yarn elements by my lonesome, the way I prefer, every time I looked at the woman next to me, it was one of these two, either Marie or Elizabeth. We were on the same browsing schedule.

A sales person said that if I took off my shoes, I could do this too:

What was I thinking? Why didn’t I do it? I kick myself now. (Aside – I’m nursing many bruises from the move, but the worst bruise is on my shin and it’s actually so big that it makes walking painful. I didn’t get it moving. I got it last night at work when I was crossing my legs in the chair and KICKED MYSELF. I am awed by my own klutziness.)

Hey! I was recognized! And in a very cool way: Joan of White Lies Designs not only knew who I was but knew that the shot I posted of her completed Shapely Tank is quite shapely, indeed (I was leaning forward in a rather, ahem, busty way). So I bought this fabulous tee from her (you know you want one) and promised I’d give her another shot (not so alarming, this):

Go buy one and tell her I sentcha.

Then it was to the Lanaknits booth for the lunchtime meetup. I was hugged by this fabulous lady:

Sharlene! Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to go to lunch, but we got a good group to Le Cheval:

Me, Silvia, Hedi, Mariko, Joanna, Elizabeth, and Marie. Yet another ass picture. Whatever.

And one of Silvia and me.

The food was great, but the comradeship was even better, just sittin’ there, talking yarn and life and just general stuff. I had a nice moment of realization that were it not for the internet, I wouldn’t have been sitting there, I wouldn’t know these wonderful people who are my friends. It’s odd, but true.

And now for my confession. I bought no yarn. I only bought roving. I KNOW. I’m going to the dark side of fibercraft, the spinning side. I refuse to take it seriously. (That’s what I’m telling you, but after work last night I sat on the couch and swore very seriously indeed at different piles of wool that REFUSED to spin into anything recognizable as yarn. Large twisty cotton balls, yes. Yarn, not so much.) I donated a ten-spot to the local spinning guild and received for my charity a drop spindle made from a dowel and CD. Now, of course, I’m wondering if my efforts are so lame because I don’t have a good drop spindle. I will NOT go back to Stitches today. Even though I have the day off. I’m moving. I’m not spinning.

I’m moving. I’m not spinning……

Oh, screw it. It’s 12:30. If I do two hours of good hard packing and sorting, I’ll go get a drop spindle. I already know I’m sunk. Might as well embrace it…..

Alas, no Stitches photos. No time. Not really blogging today, either. Tomorrow I’ll try to have them up.

I just had to say that it blows when you THINK you know your schedule and therefore don’t bother to check your calendar and show up two hours EARLY on the day you’re supposed to work two hours LATE. So I got to work at seven, didn’t need to be there till nine, and now have to work until nine p.m. Not much moving goin’ on today, I suppose.

During my unexpected two hours of Nothing To Do (I guess I could have gone home and packed more, but eh), I drove to the Bayfarm Island shore and sat in the rain in my car, facing the City and the Bay Bridge, knitting, listening to the new Indigo Girls album, and reading the New Yorker. This may have taken multitasking a leetle too far. But I haven’t had much time to do any of those things, so that was just a two hour bonus.

Enjoy your weekend, all.

https://rachaelherron.com/alas_no_stitche/

that I hate moving?

Only a few minutes to grab, but I’ll tell you this. I started moving yesterday in earnest. I’d moved all the big things (all four of them) the day before with sister Christy and my friend Tara. Yesterday I got up at 6:30 (after sleeping for the first time in the new, blessedly quiet house), went to the old place and started working on the bathroom. By 7:30, I was so overwhelmed by the very thought of having nowhere to put anything in the new place (only one large closet in the whole place – where to keep toilet paper? The vacuum? The luggage (I’m seriously, horribly addicted to luggage)?) that I went to Wal-Mart instead. I know it’s the antichrist and all, but they’re open early. Spent an hour there, got overwhelmed, bought nothing. Went to Home Depot, where I stood for another hour, then loaded a huge dolly up with incredibly heavy boxes containing bookcases, got to the front counter, and decided not only would they not fit in my car, even with the top down, but that the guys in line in front of me were probably right – Ikea would be cheaper, and have more selection. So I left Home Depot with nothing.

Got into the car and cried. All by 10:30 in the morning of the first official moving day.

Sensibly, I called the little mama, who said “go get boxes.” So in order to get boxes, I went to a liquor store near where Christy works so I could get a hug. I slowly figured out that there were no Extra Special Moving Brownie Points for moving in grocery bags. I had a vision in mind that I would put the things I own into Safeway plastic, drive them to the new house and put them away. One: No way in hell. Two: Why did I think that was somehow cool?

Boxes rock. I AM trying to put away everything as I go, as much as I can. But boxes help with the brain process, no? And wonderful friend Marama spent SIX hours (or maybe more, we lost track) buying Ikea bookcases and various other contraptions and then helping me put them together! How’s that for friendship? I mean, it’s awful enough to go shopping (although she says she likes that part). But to put that screwy Scandinavian furniture together? She gets all the Extra Special Moving Brownie Points for the day.

Oh, and I love my new place. Pictures soon, as soon as I get it more together…. You NEED to see my red walls.

No time. Moving sucks, but it will be soooo worth it. Someday.
Right?

All I leave you with today are a few lines from the FABULOUS new Indigo Girls album, All That We Let In. From the title song,

One day those toughies will be withered up and bent,
The father, son, the holy warriors, and the President,
With glory days of put-up dukes for all world to see,
Beaten into submission in the name of the free.

(all right, that’s a little rough on paper. But it sounds GOOD with them singin’ it. But this is what I was going for:)

We’re in evolution, I have heard it said.
Everyone’s so busy now, but do we move ahead?
Planets hurling, atoms splitting,
And a sweater for your love you sit there knitting.

Good god. Isn’t that great? An anti-Bush message shortly followed by a knitting-as-meditation reference? I hold myself squarely responsible for this song. Don’t you? (Course words and music are by Emily. And the song was written a year before I met them. And said meeting was fleeting. AND I only talked knitting with Amy. But hell. On the freeway, singing it loudly, I go with the dream.)

(And I wonder what the planets are hurling. And what’s a toughie? The IGals have never been grammar avengers. But sexy and smart, yeah. Okay. That was more than I meant to write. Cheers to you, and if I owe you an email, please be patient with me for a while….)

https://rachaelherron.com/no_time_moving_/

Digit got out of his box at the vet, and the limp went away. Completely. I was relieved and irritated at the same time. The vet said it always happens like that. Adrenaline makes the weak strong. (For such a terror, he’s sure a sweet thing at the animal hospital, pushing his head into my stomach, tolerating the nail clipping….) Vet didn’t think anything was broken, just a strain, and thought I had done the right thing, waiting and seeing.

Right as rain, now he is. Right as all the rain that’s been pounding us in the last few days…..

Painting this morning. I found the red/orange that I want on the book jacket of my beloved Milton. (I know he was a misogynistic old guy, but I love the fella. Adore him. He’s my boyfriend. My blind, bitter boyfriend….) I’m a gonna carry that book in and say, “I want THIS.” Wait. Can I do that? Thank god my painterly friend is helping me.

Then tonight I’m making a quick (4 hour) drive down the coast to leave the babies (who aren’t limping, neither of them) at the little mama’s for the week while I move. Back tomorrow morning to really start it. Last night, I pretended to myself I was staying in my little place forever, sat on the couch, got a little more done on the second Cromarty sleeve (now at the saddle shaping), drank a little wine, watched HBO (Iron Jawed Angels? Anyone else think it insipid? I’m a little disappointed in myself – maybe I just didn’t Feel the Emotion I should have. But I was WAY more into the re-run of Sex and the City that followed. Carrie should choose New York. Okay?). Soon, I tell myself, I’ll be home again. In my home, of my making. A couple of weeks of chaos will be worth it.

Mwah, darlings.
(psst: It’s Bethany’s birthday tomorrow.)

Hey, if you want to join us for breakfast and/or lunch on Friday, drop me an email (writerach406 at yahoo dot com) and I’ll fill you in on the plan!