And I love it. :-)
Oddly, rain cheers me up. It's such a soothing sound, and it's so cozy to be inside with the cats listening to it. It's not raining hard, unfortunately, but still.
Must get back to knitting. Tomorrow is November!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
It Does Occur to Me
That I'm still doing what my mom always said I was growing up: Wishing my life away. And now that I'm in my 40s, that's really kind of scary. I play mind games with myself to psych myself through the week to the weekend -- even though as I say, it's not my job that's depressing me, it's still hard to keep going through endless days and long weeks. And there's always some mythical time in the future when I will be content, not just in the small "isn't JD cute?" tv-watching way, or the "I finished something!" knitting way, or the "ah, it's 11:30 on a Saturday and I'm just waking up!" way, but in a meaningful way.
If I were deeply religious I might be more content -- likely, I think. Some people probably think I am, just because I actually go to Mass, but I'm not an emotionally religious person. I've talked to people who cry at Mass or in prayer. I only cry when I'm praying if I'm praying about something that would make me cry anyway, and I cried once at Mass -- a 10 PM Newman Hall Mass I went to with a boyfriend on our way home from an emotional camping trip. Not exactly spiritual fervor.
But I digress.
The point is that I'm middle-aged and still wishing my life away. I'm going to be 70, in the home, and still waiting for something.
If I were deeply religious I might be more content -- likely, I think. Some people probably think I am, just because I actually go to Mass, but I'm not an emotionally religious person. I've talked to people who cry at Mass or in prayer. I only cry when I'm praying if I'm praying about something that would make me cry anyway, and I cried once at Mass -- a 10 PM Newman Hall Mass I went to with a boyfriend on our way home from an emotional camping trip. Not exactly spiritual fervor.
But I digress.
The point is that I'm middle-aged and still wishing my life away. I'm going to be 70, in the home, and still waiting for something.
Just Down
No particular reason. I have no patience at work (and work requires a bucketful). I come home, eat, knit, watch Scrubs re-runs on Comedy Central, sometimes watch last night's Daily Show afterwards (yes, I do have crushes on both Zach Braff and Jon Stewart, why?), have a bath, cuddle the cats and go to bed.
And then I get up in the dark and do it all over again.
At least we fall back this weekend and I will be getting up when it's freaking light out. I hate to pry myself out of bed under the most ideal circs, so doing it in the cold and dark is dreary.
If I haven't said it here before I've said it elsewhere many times -- I'm a college-educated middle-class white woman in America, and therefore I have no legitimate reason to bitch. I live in a nice blue state in a decent apartment. Also, in this economy, just having a job is something to be thankful for, even if (sing it with me) I'm meant to be a housewife. This is one of those times when my parents' Depression-era "any job is a good job; shut up and suffer quietly like everyone else" attitude is actually quite apt.
But it's not actually my job that's depressing me; I think it's the depression that's exacerbating my innate impatience.
And I'm not really sure what the source of my current malaise is. Nothing has changed since a few weeks ago when I was telling a quasi-ex that I was quite happy to be on my own, having a calm life with lots of quiet time. And it's true... I like my Comedy Central knitting evenings. Hmm.
Well, the tv-yarn-bath portions of my evening are complete, and I have a cat smushed up against me, so I think it's time for the sleeping part. Only one more day to get through until I can sleep in...
And then I get up in the dark and do it all over again.
At least we fall back this weekend and I will be getting up when it's freaking light out. I hate to pry myself out of bed under the most ideal circs, so doing it in the cold and dark is dreary.
If I haven't said it here before I've said it elsewhere many times -- I'm a college-educated middle-class white woman in America, and therefore I have no legitimate reason to bitch. I live in a nice blue state in a decent apartment. Also, in this economy, just having a job is something to be thankful for, even if (sing it with me) I'm meant to be a housewife. This is one of those times when my parents' Depression-era "any job is a good job; shut up and suffer quietly like everyone else" attitude is actually quite apt.
But it's not actually my job that's depressing me; I think it's the depression that's exacerbating my innate impatience.
And I'm not really sure what the source of my current malaise is. Nothing has changed since a few weeks ago when I was telling a quasi-ex that I was quite happy to be on my own, having a calm life with lots of quiet time. And it's true... I like my Comedy Central knitting evenings. Hmm.
Well, the tv-yarn-bath portions of my evening are complete, and I have a cat smushed up against me, so I think it's time for the sleeping part. Only one more day to get through until I can sleep in...
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Ugh
Two more days til the weekend.
I know most people don't like their jobs. I know most people live for the weekends. But man, I am such a bad worker bee. In the back of my head I am constantly daydreaming about being a housewife.
Yeah, this is just me repeating myself: Sleeping on schedule one's body wants, taking care of home, cooking, other domestic duties, no boss, no time clock, no talking to the public, no possibility of getting in trouble. Endless possibilities to sneak in reading.
There, the usual litany, she is done.
I've been knitting and ripping, knitting and ripping, ad nauseum. One of Family Items, I've just started thinking of the k/r, k/r as swatching. :-) She's getting it in the size/gauge it is now, though, damnit!
This Saturday I have a parish council retreat. I am trying to think of a way to stick up for the introverts without seeming crazy, as we discuss attracting and keeping parishioners. I know that if some sort of "greeter" had been in my face my first Sunday there, I would have gone to Mass and never come back. I think any sort of "hospitality ministry" needs to have training in Discerning Body Language. Hey -- if they're backing away, looking sideways, not smiling broadly and chatting with you, let 'em go. I know I'm way on one end of the intro-/extroverted spectrum, and the hail-fellow-well-met stuff that gives me panic attacks is one of the reasons megachurches do so well. But we're Catholic -- universal, eh? Let the introverts be! :-)
Especially when those introverts have to go to work in the morning and deal with people all day long.... :-P
I know most people don't like their jobs. I know most people live for the weekends. But man, I am such a bad worker bee. In the back of my head I am constantly daydreaming about being a housewife.
Yeah, this is just me repeating myself: Sleeping on schedule one's body wants, taking care of home, cooking, other domestic duties, no boss, no time clock, no talking to the public, no possibility of getting in trouble. Endless possibilities to sneak in reading.
There, the usual litany, she is done.
I've been knitting and ripping, knitting and ripping, ad nauseum. One of Family Items, I've just started thinking of the k/r, k/r as swatching. :-) She's getting it in the size/gauge it is now, though, damnit!
This Saturday I have a parish council retreat. I am trying to think of a way to stick up for the introverts without seeming crazy, as we discuss attracting and keeping parishioners. I know that if some sort of "greeter" had been in my face my first Sunday there, I would have gone to Mass and never come back. I think any sort of "hospitality ministry" needs to have training in Discerning Body Language. Hey -- if they're backing away, looking sideways, not smiling broadly and chatting with you, let 'em go. I know I'm way on one end of the intro-/extroverted spectrum, and the hail-fellow-well-met stuff that gives me panic attacks is one of the reasons megachurches do so well. But we're Catholic -- universal, eh? Let the introverts be! :-)
Especially when those introverts have to go to work in the morning and deal with people all day long.... :-P
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Hmm.
You Are a Raccoon |
 You are very curious. Your curiosity has led you to learn a lot about the world... including some things you rather not know. You are also very sneaky. You can blend in when you need to, and no one really knows what you are up to. At times, you can be morally dubious. You're willing to do a lot to get ahead, even if it means stepping on other people's toes. You are generally passive and tend to work behind the scenes. But if someone challenges you, you get downright nasty! |
Monday, October 13, 2008
Chugging Along
Ah, another Monday down.
It's reassuring that there are indeed a finite number of Mondays in one's work life.
I am keeping, more or less, to my Christmas knitting schedule. I've worked on the family items tonight while listening to Fr. Corapi (as is usual, more orthodox than I, but I love him -- though he doesn't sound like his photo!). He's funny in a wryly sarcastic way I totally get on board with, he's self-deprecating, and very interesting. I love his ultra-emphatic style, and even where I disagree with him, I appreciate him.
I feel similarly about Fr. Groeschel, though his presentation is so different. He's so quiet and gentle and soft-spoken, and again more orthodox than I, but I love listening to him. He radiates the kind of peace and joy combined with intelligence that I have so often admired in religious.
Anyway, back to the knitting. The family items continue. I need to go do my requisite two repeats on the red Irish Hiking Scarf, and I need to work on the little things for my work group. They shouldn't take too long and I might just try to churn them out in a weekend, although pacing myself does seem to be the key to avoiding screwups of massive proportions.
Fall is gloriously here. I do get tired of people who say California has no seasons -- of course it does, and you might want to check in with places like Redding* and Sonora**, which go into triple digits in the summer and have snow in the winter. But even in coastal California, all you need are your basic senses to tell the seasons.
Now, the light is slanted low during the day, much more golden than in other seasons. There is a warmth in the air that is also different -- it's definitely not cool yet (consistently), but it's almost as if you can feel the dying embers, the last burst of heat for the year. It's a cozier warmth than the heat of August... which I realize is much more moderate than in many places, but even so.
And there's something else... Perhaps you have to be from here, or have lived here for years, to feel it. It's a sort of deep-seated, quietly moving nostalgia that the slanting light and departing warmth instill in me. I love the fall.
* The Sundial Bridge, pictured on this page, is very cool.
** I went to Sonora the first weekend my ex-husband lived in CA, as well as on our honeymoon, and therefore I have some bittersweet memories of the place. But it's also the first place I ever saw snow, when I was ten.
It's reassuring that there are indeed a finite number of Mondays in one's work life.
I am keeping, more or less, to my Christmas knitting schedule. I've worked on the family items tonight while listening to Fr. Corapi (as is usual, more orthodox than I, but I love him -- though he doesn't sound like his photo!). He's funny in a wryly sarcastic way I totally get on board with, he's self-deprecating, and very interesting. I love his ultra-emphatic style, and even where I disagree with him, I appreciate him.
I feel similarly about Fr. Groeschel, though his presentation is so different. He's so quiet and gentle and soft-spoken, and again more orthodox than I, but I love listening to him. He radiates the kind of peace and joy combined with intelligence that I have so often admired in religious.
Anyway, back to the knitting. The family items continue. I need to go do my requisite two repeats on the red Irish Hiking Scarf, and I need to work on the little things for my work group. They shouldn't take too long and I might just try to churn them out in a weekend, although pacing myself does seem to be the key to avoiding screwups of massive proportions.
Fall is gloriously here. I do get tired of people who say California has no seasons -- of course it does, and you might want to check in with places like Redding* and Sonora**, which go into triple digits in the summer and have snow in the winter. But even in coastal California, all you need are your basic senses to tell the seasons.
Now, the light is slanted low during the day, much more golden than in other seasons. There is a warmth in the air that is also different -- it's definitely not cool yet (consistently), but it's almost as if you can feel the dying embers, the last burst of heat for the year. It's a cozier warmth than the heat of August... which I realize is much more moderate than in many places, but even so.
And there's something else... Perhaps you have to be from here, or have lived here for years, to feel it. It's a sort of deep-seated, quietly moving nostalgia that the slanting light and departing warmth instill in me. I love the fall.
* The Sundial Bridge, pictured on this page, is very cool.
** I went to Sonora the first weekend my ex-husband lived in CA, as well as on our honeymoon, and therefore I have some bittersweet memories of the place. But it's also the first place I ever saw snow, when I was ten.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Score!
I went shopping after work and got three pairs of slacks, two skirts, and two pairs of underwear for $126 altogether. Woot!
I'm trying to have a more tailored work look, for lack of a better word. Just a little more understated and polished, especially for the winter. I tend to wear bright skirts and backless shoes to work, and while that's fine in the summer it seems a little odd in the cooler weather, I think, even here. Of course, being a large-chested zaftig person, I can't do tailored-tailored, but I can at least wear some nice black or pinstriped pants to work!
Anyway, that was fun.
I changed the yarn on one of Christmas projects and am changing the other one altogether. Well, same yarn, different pattern, for that one. I'm making the Irish Hiking Scarf for a non-family-member, but I am limiting myself to two repeats a day, so I don't go into Spaceout Mode and screw it up. It's in bright red, which is not a color I own or ever even consider wearing, but is fun to work with for someone else. I love to cable. It gives you such bang for your buck -- it looks nice and if you don't know how to do it, you think it's difficult, but it's easier than just about anything else knittingwise, as far as I'm concerned. At least, I think it's fun (as long as I have straight wooden cable needles and not those U-shaped metal ones) and somehow the turning row helps me keep my place.
Better end my knitting break here. I have to finish the second daily repeat on the red scarf and get to work re-starting the two family items. Yesterday one of my cats was determined to help me knit -- and then to keep me from knitting, by curling up in my lap and sleeping, twisting herself into many cute snoozing poses and purring so I couldn't bear to move her. At the moment she's curled up like a Danish on a chair, and my other cat never jumps on me, so I should make a move for it while I can!
I'm trying to have a more tailored work look, for lack of a better word. Just a little more understated and polished, especially for the winter. I tend to wear bright skirts and backless shoes to work, and while that's fine in the summer it seems a little odd in the cooler weather, I think, even here. Of course, being a large-chested zaftig person, I can't do tailored-tailored, but I can at least wear some nice black or pinstriped pants to work!
Anyway, that was fun.
I changed the yarn on one of Christmas projects and am changing the other one altogether. Well, same yarn, different pattern, for that one. I'm making the Irish Hiking Scarf for a non-family-member, but I am limiting myself to two repeats a day, so I don't go into Spaceout Mode and screw it up. It's in bright red, which is not a color I own or ever even consider wearing, but is fun to work with for someone else. I love to cable. It gives you such bang for your buck -- it looks nice and if you don't know how to do it, you think it's difficult, but it's easier than just about anything else knittingwise, as far as I'm concerned. At least, I think it's fun (as long as I have straight wooden cable needles and not those U-shaped metal ones) and somehow the turning row helps me keep my place.
Better end my knitting break here. I have to finish the second daily repeat on the red scarf and get to work re-starting the two family items. Yesterday one of my cats was determined to help me knit -- and then to keep me from knitting, by curling up in my lap and sleeping, twisting herself into many cute snoozing poses and purring so I couldn't bear to move her. At the moment she's curled up like a Danish on a chair, and my other cat never jumps on me, so I should make a move for it while I can!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Speaking of Notre Dame
Next time I go to the 5 PM Vigil Mass, I'm going to watch the Sunday night Mass from Notre Dame online.
I love the Internet.
I love the Internet.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Apple Cake Possibilities
Hmm. I don't normally like apple desserts, except for tarte tatin (and I even have a Le Creuset tarte tatin pan, courtesy of my oldest friend). (And until I linked to it, I had no idea how freaking expensive it was. Oy. I need to make a hell of a lot more tarte tatins, and take him a few as well.)
But that apple cake looks tarte tatin-like, and quite yummy.
While I eat apples out of hand all the time, usually I don't like their consistency in desserts. I decided while in Paris seven years ago to try it for dessert one night, just because I was, well, in Paris. The sauteeing of the apples softened them to a luscious consistency, and though my efforts are never as pretty, they succeed tastewise. (If you manage not to burn the apples, you pretty much can't screw it up.) I'm thinking I could probably manage this.
I do wonder how she flipped it out of and back into her cast-iron pan and kept it all of a piece!
I need to use my cast iron more often. I have my mom's deep covered skillet, another skillet I may have bought, and a ridged grill pan (same as this one except, obviously, ridged). The first two aren't enameled; all of them could give you a concussion if you snuck up on me in my kitchen while I had one in hand.
Man, with these expensive French pans and my "oh, while I was in Paris" comment I sound well-to-do, pretentious, or both. I should say that was my last trip to Europe and I've only ever been to the UK otherwise. (My two other forays out of the US were one night in Windsor, Ontario and a couple of day trips over the Texas/Mexico border.) And yeah, for a time most of my disposable income went into cookware. However, I also have a bunch of pretty-darn-good pans with copper bottoms I got at Mervyn's awhile back, so there you go.
Y'know, along with wondering what the role of single, childless women is in the Church, I wonder to whom single, childless women should leave their extensive cookware collection in their wills. No one else in my family likes to cook much.
ANYway, I digress. (No, really?) I'm back to thinking about apple cake. Mmm. Perhaps this will go onto the agenda of one of my Sunday baking sessions.
But that apple cake looks tarte tatin-like, and quite yummy.
While I eat apples out of hand all the time, usually I don't like their consistency in desserts. I decided while in Paris seven years ago to try it for dessert one night, just because I was, well, in Paris. The sauteeing of the apples softened them to a luscious consistency, and though my efforts are never as pretty, they succeed tastewise. (If you manage not to burn the apples, you pretty much can't screw it up.) I'm thinking I could probably manage this.
I do wonder how she flipped it out of and back into her cast-iron pan and kept it all of a piece!
I need to use my cast iron more often. I have my mom's deep covered skillet, another skillet I may have bought, and a ridged grill pan (same as this one except, obviously, ridged). The first two aren't enameled; all of them could give you a concussion if you snuck up on me in my kitchen while I had one in hand.
Man, with these expensive French pans and my "oh, while I was in Paris" comment I sound well-to-do, pretentious, or both. I should say that was my last trip to Europe and I've only ever been to the UK otherwise. (My two other forays out of the US were one night in Windsor, Ontario and a couple of day trips over the Texas/Mexico border.) And yeah, for a time most of my disposable income went into cookware. However, I also have a bunch of pretty-darn-good pans with copper bottoms I got at Mervyn's awhile back, so there you go.
Y'know, along with wondering what the role of single, childless women is in the Church, I wonder to whom single, childless women should leave their extensive cookware collection in their wills. No one else in my family likes to cook much.
ANYway, I digress. (No, really?) I'm back to thinking about apple cake. Mmm. Perhaps this will go onto the agenda of one of my Sunday baking sessions.
Pinkeye!
OK, I know it's weird to be happy to have pinkeye, but it's not bugging me much at all, and I get to be off work today and tomorrow. This is a nice little break.
Keeping my distance from unwary folk, I did go check out the Cathedral on the way home. It's... not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'm still a Notre Dame type girl, and I never would have chosen this, but it's okay. I do hate the artwork of the Stations of the Cross, and the towering Christ made of points of light behind/above the altar is a bit creepy IMHO, but the wood is beautiful, the light is nice (although I'm a fan of dark churches actually), and some of the side chapels, with rich-toned traditional art, are beautiful. The placement of the tabernacle is traditional, so you can face the altar and genuflect, which is nice. (At my parish you're at an angle of up to 90 degrees if you're next to your pew and you want to genuflect in the direction of the tabernacle.)
There was a docent giving a VERY LOUD AND ECHOING tour, which was distracting, but I just plugged my ears when I went into the Adoration Chapel. It's right behind the altar and the other side of the tabernacle faces in there. Oddly, as I knelt there, a Brother (Dominican, I think) in full habit and a non-habited man came and stood beside me, banging something around... possibly the pole of a flag or candle stand or something. One thing I am always surprised by is how people -- even, apparently, vowed and habited religious -- aren't quiet in churches, even when people are praying. The exception is the parish where I sometimes attend the Latin Mass. They're quiet. It's great.
But anyway, the brother and his friend left quickly and went into the sacristy off the chapel, and I finished praying, looked at the side chapels down the other side of the nave, and then went to see the bookstore. It's still not very well-stocked, though there were some lovely crucifixes. I have one in my bedroom of olive wood, made by Palestinian Catholics and with a little vial of soil from the Holy Land in it. Otherwise, the only other one I have is a heavy cardboard version of a San Damiano crucifix. Someday I'll get a pretty one for the hallway. Not before Christmas, though!
I'm sure I'll be back, especially after the adjoining cafe opens. When I was Episcopalian, I used to go to the Grace Cathedral bookshop and get a coffee at the little stand they had in the hall outside. My ex-husband said they made the best mochas. I am looking forward to picking up a book and then going to have some caffeine and a snack next door.
I wonder if he still has/displays the icons he got at Grace. And what his current wife thinks if he does...
I came home and managed to get the Rx drops in my eyes. I don't touch my eyes, nothing goes in my eyes, I get queasy thinking of eyes. I did OK, though, and they feel better.
So, just a passel of Christmas knitting tonight and tomorrow. I'm glad I can futz around til late tonight, and sleep in, and knit and read. On my agenda:
Item A for family member
Item B for other family member
Cabled coffee sleeves for my immediate co-workers
A cabled scarf for a good friend in another department
I am now definitely on a schedule!
Keeping my distance from unwary folk, I did go check out the Cathedral on the way home. It's... not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'm still a Notre Dame type girl, and I never would have chosen this, but it's okay. I do hate the artwork of the Stations of the Cross, and the towering Christ made of points of light behind/above the altar is a bit creepy IMHO, but the wood is beautiful, the light is nice (although I'm a fan of dark churches actually), and some of the side chapels, with rich-toned traditional art, are beautiful. The placement of the tabernacle is traditional, so you can face the altar and genuflect, which is nice. (At my parish you're at an angle of up to 90 degrees if you're next to your pew and you want to genuflect in the direction of the tabernacle.)
There was a docent giving a VERY LOUD AND ECHOING tour, which was distracting, but I just plugged my ears when I went into the Adoration Chapel. It's right behind the altar and the other side of the tabernacle faces in there. Oddly, as I knelt there, a Brother (Dominican, I think) in full habit and a non-habited man came and stood beside me, banging something around... possibly the pole of a flag or candle stand or something. One thing I am always surprised by is how people -- even, apparently, vowed and habited religious -- aren't quiet in churches, even when people are praying. The exception is the parish where I sometimes attend the Latin Mass. They're quiet. It's great.
But anyway, the brother and his friend left quickly and went into the sacristy off the chapel, and I finished praying, looked at the side chapels down the other side of the nave, and then went to see the bookstore. It's still not very well-stocked, though there were some lovely crucifixes. I have one in my bedroom of olive wood, made by Palestinian Catholics and with a little vial of soil from the Holy Land in it. Otherwise, the only other one I have is a heavy cardboard version of a San Damiano crucifix. Someday I'll get a pretty one for the hallway. Not before Christmas, though!
I'm sure I'll be back, especially after the adjoining cafe opens. When I was Episcopalian, I used to go to the Grace Cathedral bookshop and get a coffee at the little stand they had in the hall outside. My ex-husband said they made the best mochas. I am looking forward to picking up a book and then going to have some caffeine and a snack next door.
I wonder if he still has/displays the icons he got at Grace. And what his current wife thinks if he does...
I came home and managed to get the Rx drops in my eyes. I don't touch my eyes, nothing goes in my eyes, I get queasy thinking of eyes. I did OK, though, and they feel better.
So, just a passel of Christmas knitting tonight and tomorrow. I'm glad I can futz around til late tonight, and sleep in, and knit and read. On my agenda:
Item A for family member
Item B for other family member
Cabled coffee sleeves for my immediate co-workers
A cabled scarf for a good friend in another department
I am now definitely on a schedule!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Worn Out
I explained today to someone I'd dated casually awhile ago that my most recent string of quasi-relationships had just tuckered. me. out. As much as I'd prefer not to be alone-alone, sitting on the couch knitting quietly is pretty OK at the moment.
Also, I've just been tired. And my eyes are bloodshot for no particular reason that I know of, except maybe allergies. I hate it when I get a queasy tired feeling, though, because when I'm queasy I can't do anything, which is frustrating. Stopped my knitting earlier tonight.
I ripped one of my Christmas gifts and began again on slightly bigger needles. It's a quick knit (so far... when I get closer to the end it may seem interminable), so I wasn't too angst-ridden over the frogging.
I really can't wait for Friday, though... it's payday, I'm leaving early to go buy some work slacks and thence to Article Pract for more Christmas-related yarn (ergo, guilt-free!), and then I will go home, curl up, and recharge. I'm a lector this Sunday so need to go to the 11 AM Mass, which is fine. But that's my only required duty this weekend.
Sometimes I daydream about getting a hotel room for the weekend -- not going anywhere, just getting a space that is sparse and clean and quiet, for a mini-retreat of books and yarn and the like. When I was an Episcopalian, I went on an actual retreat to the Bishop's Ranch (see bottom picture on right; that was the building we stayed in) which turned out a lot like that. I ended up with my own room, and there was a pool, an always-open honor-system bookshop (!!!), a chapel right across the path from our house, and hot-air balloons rising over the valley in the mornings. I don't think I could recreate that quite, but I could rustle something up, surely...
Also, I've just been tired. And my eyes are bloodshot for no particular reason that I know of, except maybe allergies. I hate it when I get a queasy tired feeling, though, because when I'm queasy I can't do anything, which is frustrating. Stopped my knitting earlier tonight.
I ripped one of my Christmas gifts and began again on slightly bigger needles. It's a quick knit (so far... when I get closer to the end it may seem interminable), so I wasn't too angst-ridden over the frogging.
I really can't wait for Friday, though... it's payday, I'm leaving early to go buy some work slacks and thence to Article Pract for more Christmas-related yarn (ergo, guilt-free!), and then I will go home, curl up, and recharge. I'm a lector this Sunday so need to go to the 11 AM Mass, which is fine. But that's my only required duty this weekend.
Sometimes I daydream about getting a hotel room for the weekend -- not going anywhere, just getting a space that is sparse and clean and quiet, for a mini-retreat of books and yarn and the like. When I was an Episcopalian, I went on an actual retreat to the Bishop's Ranch (see bottom picture on right; that was the building we stayed in) which turned out a lot like that. I ended up with my own room, and there was a pool, an always-open honor-system bookshop (!!!), a chapel right across the path from our house, and hot-air balloons rising over the valley in the mornings. I don't think I could recreate that quite, but I could rustle something up, surely...
Monday, October 6, 2008
Comfort Drinking, Christmas Knitting, Religious Musing
Lately I have been all about heating up a cup of milk with a packet of Splenda (well, the Safeway generic equivalent) and a splash of vanilla. I used to just drink it at bedtime but have been having it at any hour recently. Odd, I suppose...
In college I used to just get steamed milk at cafes. I might do that again, now I remember it.
(Yes, I do indulge in the more traditional type of comfort drinking. It's just not noteworthy.)
I have been knitting away on Item A and Item B for Christmas. One of them is in laceweight, although it's not lace (it does have a YO in the border, but that's it). It's going to take awhile but it's mindless, which suits me. :-) The other requires somewhat more thought, but not a lot.
The economy is actually starting to worry me. I hadn't been tripping, since I'm endless years away from getting to retire, but man... Although I am constitutionally fit only to be a housewife and find having a very regimented office job quite psychologically stressful, I certainly don't want to lose my job. It's relatively unlikely, but anything can happen.
Speaking of the housewife thing, sorta. I was listening to the local Catholic radio station while knitting today. They're way more orthodox than I am in most ways, but I find it interesting (until I get told obliquely that I cannot in good conscience vote for Obama, but that's another topic). I got to thinking about what the role of single, childless women is in the Church. I'm not a sister or nun, I'm not a consecrated virgin (!!!), I'm not married, I don't have kids. I don't see myself remarrying -- I'm not opposed to it at all; I just don't think I will. I also don't see kids in my future. I've only ever wanted one person's child (and I am ever so grateful it didn't happen, in retrospect).
However, regardless of the hypotheticals and the minutiae, the facts are: Divorced/annulled, childless. I don't have this family that is always spoken of in religious discourse. It's just me. I have relatives, but when I think of the family in the "domestic church" sense, I don't think of siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. And since I'm the only practicing anything in my entire family, it's not like faith or spirituality comes up much.
(OK, maybe not "entire family." I have some Catholic cousins who may go to Mass, but I see them approximately once a decade. I have a fundamentalist cousin whom I avoid who may go to some church or another. By "entire family" I mean my aunts and my sisters and their families.)
And really, my ideal life, should I be able to snap my fingers and conjure it up, would be: Married, no outside job, and no kids. One of these things would be condemned by the orthodox (and possibly by the Orthodox). However, since the first one will almost certainly never happen, I don't need to worry overmuch.
I'm actually not really worrying in any case. I do need to think, though, at least, about my place in the Church. And actually, though I started this by wondering about the place of single, childless women in the Church, it applies to men too. I have read heated discussions about whether someone can be "called" to the single (but unconsecrated) life; whether it's a vocation. Most people seem to strenuously believe it's not, but there are partisans on both sides.
Something to ponder.
In college I used to just get steamed milk at cafes. I might do that again, now I remember it.
(Yes, I do indulge in the more traditional type of comfort drinking. It's just not noteworthy.)
I have been knitting away on Item A and Item B for Christmas. One of them is in laceweight, although it's not lace (it does have a YO in the border, but that's it). It's going to take awhile but it's mindless, which suits me. :-) The other requires somewhat more thought, but not a lot.
The economy is actually starting to worry me. I hadn't been tripping, since I'm endless years away from getting to retire, but man... Although I am constitutionally fit only to be a housewife and find having a very regimented office job quite psychologically stressful, I certainly don't want to lose my job. It's relatively unlikely, but anything can happen.
Speaking of the housewife thing, sorta. I was listening to the local Catholic radio station while knitting today. They're way more orthodox than I am in most ways, but I find it interesting (until I get told obliquely that I cannot in good conscience vote for Obama, but that's another topic). I got to thinking about what the role of single, childless women is in the Church. I'm not a sister or nun, I'm not a consecrated virgin (!!!), I'm not married, I don't have kids. I don't see myself remarrying -- I'm not opposed to it at all; I just don't think I will. I also don't see kids in my future. I've only ever wanted one person's child (and I am ever so grateful it didn't happen, in retrospect).
However, regardless of the hypotheticals and the minutiae, the facts are: Divorced/annulled, childless. I don't have this family that is always spoken of in religious discourse. It's just me. I have relatives, but when I think of the family in the "domestic church" sense, I don't think of siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. And since I'm the only practicing anything in my entire family, it's not like faith or spirituality comes up much.
(OK, maybe not "entire family." I have some Catholic cousins who may go to Mass, but I see them approximately once a decade. I have a fundamentalist cousin whom I avoid who may go to some church or another. By "entire family" I mean my aunts and my sisters and their families.)
And really, my ideal life, should I be able to snap my fingers and conjure it up, would be: Married, no outside job, and no kids. One of these things would be condemned by the orthodox (and possibly by the Orthodox). However, since the first one will almost certainly never happen, I don't need to worry overmuch.
I'm actually not really worrying in any case. I do need to think, though, at least, about my place in the Church. And actually, though I started this by wondering about the place of single, childless women in the Church, it applies to men too. I have read heated discussions about whether someone can be "called" to the single (but unconsecrated) life; whether it's a vocation. Most people seem to strenuously believe it's not, but there are partisans on both sides.
Something to ponder.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Woot!
Or something to that effect.
I went to Mass tonight at 5 so I could grab a bite with a friend of mine afterwards, and so I can sleep in tomorrow before the family BBQ. We were walking down the street to the restaurant, and a cute guy on a bike, as he went by, looked straight at me and whistled.
Yes, for some women that's no biggie. For others it would be offensive. For me, it was like a lovely little shot of adrenaline or something. Nice. I was probably 25 the last time I was whistled at.
My friend and I had dinner and discussed Catholic radio (sometimes annoying, sometimes aggravating, sometimes cool); our parish's Mass (good homilies for the most part; music we really dislike); the new cathedral (mixed reviews, but I haven't been inside yet); the Latin Mass (we love it), confession, work, politics, and food.
I got a latte at Starbucks on the way to the car so I can use it as a model on which to slip the coffee cuffs I'm knitting for co-workers for Christmas. Maybe I'll start one of those tomorrow for BBQ knitting. Hmm.
I had a bizarre knitting episode earlier.
I went to Mass tonight at 5 so I could grab a bite with a friend of mine afterwards, and so I can sleep in tomorrow before the family BBQ. We were walking down the street to the restaurant, and a cute guy on a bike, as he went by, looked straight at me and whistled.
Yes, for some women that's no biggie. For others it would be offensive. For me, it was like a lovely little shot of adrenaline or something. Nice. I was probably 25 the last time I was whistled at.
My friend and I had dinner and discussed Catholic radio (sometimes annoying, sometimes aggravating, sometimes cool); our parish's Mass (good homilies for the most part; music we really dislike); the new cathedral (mixed reviews, but I haven't been inside yet); the Latin Mass (we love it), confession, work, politics, and food.
I got a latte at Starbucks on the way to the car so I can use it as a model on which to slip the coffee cuffs I'm knitting for co-workers for Christmas. Maybe I'll start one of those tomorrow for BBQ knitting. Hmm.
I had a bizarre knitting episode earlier.
I’m knitting a simple scarf in mesh stitch: p, yo, p2tog, repeat repeat repeat. You’d think it would work with multiples of four stitches, and in a pre-frogging incarnation, it did.
I tried about four times this afternoon to get it to work on 36 stitches (somewhat heavy yarn).No (x4). It’s working now… on 37.
Say what?
This is why I'm not a math and science person -- a four-stitch repeat has given me a headache!
Feast Day
It's St. Francis' feast day, so it's one of my name days. I announced to the cats that it was the feast day of one of my patron saints, and theirs too. They were not particularly interested.
Been knitting, frogging, knitting.... Mostly it's been on Christmas stuff while I await the arrival of my extra skein of alpaca-silk for my own scarf. It's been a long time, but feels good, to be on deadline knitting. I don't work well under grave pressure but a deadline is a good thing. I like to have a goal.
Mass tonight, so I can sleep in again tomorrow. I did bail on the birding outing... I just don't feel comfortable with them. It's all me, I admit it freely! Also, I was exhausted at the end of this week. It was great so sleep until 10.
Tomorrow is a family BBQ and I'd better get my socks started so I have some knitting to bring! Since the recipients of the two other projects will be there, I can't exactly whip them out.
And now to straighten up round here. Such excitement!
Been knitting, frogging, knitting.... Mostly it's been on Christmas stuff while I await the arrival of my extra skein of alpaca-silk for my own scarf. It's been a long time, but feels good, to be on deadline knitting. I don't work well under grave pressure but a deadline is a good thing. I like to have a goal.
Mass tonight, so I can sleep in again tomorrow. I did bail on the birding outing... I just don't feel comfortable with them. It's all me, I admit it freely! Also, I was exhausted at the end of this week. It was great so sleep until 10.
Tomorrow is a family BBQ and I'd better get my socks started so I have some knitting to bring! Since the recipients of the two other projects will be there, I can't exactly whip them out.
And now to straighten up round here. Such excitement!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Desperate for the Weekend
As usual, can't say anything about work, except that Friday night cannot come soon enough. Actually, retirement can't come soon enough. Well, other than the fact that the economy is tanking and for that reason I'm glad I'm 25 years away from it...
One thing I will say I am grateful for, as opposed to the life of my math-and-science-guy friends. One of them texted me at one o'clock this morning; he was going to be up all night coding. He texted me at 6 PM and told me he was just leaving work; had had a 13-hour day. That never happens to me. It's mostly because I'm hourly and literally punch a time clock (no, really, seriously) -- but I walk out the door two minutes after my day ends, always.
I've been knitting furiously on some Christmas gifts; I know it's only October but I'm a slow, slow knitter. And a big-time frogger. So far, so good, though. I'm also going to start the Koigu socks tomorrow; I have a family BBQ to go to Sunday and I want to have non-gift knitting to bring along.
My first birding class was last night. I was a bit awkward when we had to do introductions (I hate the going-round-the-room-introducing-yourself-and-explaining-why-you're-there thing, and I was third so had little time to think), and later I answered a question I think the instructor was hoping someone else might answer, and afterwards in a group discussion with her about binoculars, I kind of blurted out that I close one eye while using them and I think I should have waited for a longer pause in the conversation before saying anything, but it was apropos to the discussion at hand, so... I left feeling very awkward and unhappy, but I will go on this weekend's field trip and see how it goes. At least I think I will.
Although from the general binocular discussion, it seems my $100-ish Bushnells are utter crap -- and even all these very beginning birders have better ones. I tend to maybe agree with them since I do have a hard time with these binoculars, but I thought it was either because of my glasses or my lazy eye. Maybe not. However, they are what I have for at least the next couple of years... and if I bail on this class, who knows if I will ever get good enough to need better ones?
I finally decided ten days or so ago to sign up for a Ravelry invitation; I don't know why it had never occurred to me before. So since last weekend I've been playing around on there. It is pretty damned amazing.
Going to go soak in a tub. I'm worried that with the incipient drought, my long-bath days may be over for quite some time soon. But after my day today (thankfully not 13 hours) I need some bubbles and hot water! Then another hour or so of knitting. The last time I was on a knitting schedule was two years ago when I knit a cabled scarf for a quasi-boyfriend. He liked it and wore it, at least, even if our relationship was doomed. (And I don't think it's because I knit for him!)
One thing I will say I am grateful for, as opposed to the life of my math-and-science-guy friends. One of them texted me at one o'clock this morning; he was going to be up all night coding. He texted me at 6 PM and told me he was just leaving work; had had a 13-hour day. That never happens to me. It's mostly because I'm hourly and literally punch a time clock (no, really, seriously) -- but I walk out the door two minutes after my day ends, always.
I've been knitting furiously on some Christmas gifts; I know it's only October but I'm a slow, slow knitter. And a big-time frogger. So far, so good, though. I'm also going to start the Koigu socks tomorrow; I have a family BBQ to go to Sunday and I want to have non-gift knitting to bring along.
My first birding class was last night. I was a bit awkward when we had to do introductions (I hate the going-round-the-room-introducing-yourself-and-explaining-why-you're-there thing, and I was third so had little time to think), and later I answered a question I think the instructor was hoping someone else might answer, and afterwards in a group discussion with her about binoculars, I kind of blurted out that I close one eye while using them and I think I should have waited for a longer pause in the conversation before saying anything, but it was apropos to the discussion at hand, so... I left feeling very awkward and unhappy, but I will go on this weekend's field trip and see how it goes. At least I think I will.
Although from the general binocular discussion, it seems my $100-ish Bushnells are utter crap -- and even all these very beginning birders have better ones. I tend to maybe agree with them since I do have a hard time with these binoculars, but I thought it was either because of my glasses or my lazy eye. Maybe not. However, they are what I have for at least the next couple of years... and if I bail on this class, who knows if I will ever get good enough to need better ones?
I finally decided ten days or so ago to sign up for a Ravelry invitation; I don't know why it had never occurred to me before. So since last weekend I've been playing around on there. It is pretty damned amazing.
Going to go soak in a tub. I'm worried that with the incipient drought, my long-bath days may be over for quite some time soon. But after my day today (thankfully not 13 hours) I need some bubbles and hot water! Then another hour or so of knitting. The last time I was on a knitting schedule was two years ago when I knit a cabled scarf for a quasi-boyfriend. He liked it and wore it, at least, even if our relationship was doomed. (And I don't think it's because I knit for him!)
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