Dear Reader Sparkle said in an email to me, “Your energy feels kinda funky behind the blog.” I have to agree. Standing behind this blog, looking out toward you, I can admit that it’s just plain ole fear that’s making me a little weird. I’m not normally scared. I have the normal fears, of course, of fire and nuclear weapons and being tied to a red-ant hill by a short man with a scrubby goatee, but day-to-day, facing big things, I’m usually pretty strong.
I’ve found the point at which I stop being strong and start shaking in my sandals: When I have to pack boxes in preparation for moving out of the apartment I’ve loved more than any other, with little to no guarantee that I have a place to move into at the end of the month. The loan docs still haven’t come through yet. They were supposed to be in on Friday. Nope. Monday was a holiday. No phone call yesterday. Today? Here’s hoping. Here’s hoping super hard hope. I think if I signed documents and had a wee bit more assurance they’re not going to find a financial glitch or a problem with the property, I could have fun packing. I really could. Moving into my first home? Fabulous. Bring it. But this not knowing? I’m scared, and I’m putting off the packing, NOT a good idea, when I need to move the big stuff by October 24th.
Oy. My aching head.
You know what’s good for this kind of stress? (Quit it. This is not that kind of a blog.) (Okay, yeah, it helps. Happy? Really, people.) Good for stress: Ice cream, and a lot of it. Running (it really felt like I was training for Hawaii yesterday, 85 degrees and humid, even down by the water). Knitting Cromarty. I’m almost finished with this bad boy, and somehow the high level of difficulty is what my hands want to work on. I suppose it’s distraction in a way — stockinette allows me to worry, even if it’s only low-grade. A gajillion teeny-tiny cables make me focus for a few minutes.
I’ll keep you posted, I promise.
Now, pics of the Knit-Out. I don’t need to summarize what happened, ’cause my fabulous fellows have already done it for me. Go see Joanna, Celia, Nathania, Emily, Christine, and Silvia , who all do a great job of telling it like it was.
A group shot:
Won-Ju, Kira, and Rachel:
Nathania, bein’ surprised her Secret Pal tracked her to the Cafe:
We’re jealous; she got a GOOD Secret Pal (and I know who it is, neener neener neener):
Mystery Guest revealed!
Me’n’Won-Ju, Lala‘s wonderful, beautiful sister-in-law:
There were a coupla shots of me and Lala, and lemme tell ya. Y’ain’t gonna see ’em. Celia’s shot of my forty-seven double chins is enough for me. I don’t need to validate that on my own blog. Nuh-uh.
I’m immensely cheered now. What will be, will be. If I get the condo, good. If I don’t, something better is out there. At this moment, my heart knows that’s right, and I think it was thinking about my knitblog pals that made me realize that. Seriously. Look where the heart leads, after all, yes?
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