The More I Know the People of God, the Better I Like My Dogs

None of this has anything to do with knitting today. I’m just completely, utterly, totally in a Bad Place, and I don’t know what to do about it, beyond writing and hoping maybe I’ll figure out a thing or two along the way.

I sing. I have done so competently and seriously for over twenty years, and have offered my alleged “gift” in various church choirs in that time. I should feel fulfilled and satisfied, as if I were doing something I was meant to do. I should feel as if I am spiritually connected and filled with praise. I should LOVE what I am doing.

Well, those “shoulds” are for an ideal world.

Not for the first time, I am wishing I had never, ever been given an ability to do music. It seems that for each rare moment of delight, I have spent at least thousand times that in gut-wrenching pain, feeling worthless, unloved, unappreciated, unsupported, overworked, and ostracized.

I spend at least a portion of every day in every week dreading going to rehearsal on Thursday nights. I don’t look forward to Sunday services at all. I want out, but instead will dutifully go through the motions and pretend nothing is wrong because I am TERRIFIED of where a confrontation will lead.

Things may be said that can never, ever be taken back or forgiven.

A friendship will most likely be lost. Possibly two friendships, actually. In one case, perhaps there never really was a friendship to begin with. Perhaps I made another stunning error in who to choose to trust and befriend. I have a bad track record in that, and I am afraid to have it confirmed again, lest I feel like even more of a loser/moron than I already do most of the time.

Would I be this much of an idiot if not for music? More than anything, what I need right now is to step back and not perform for awhile. I have reason to believe that my need will not be honored, much less met. There will be a price. What I have spent so many years doing may come to an end forever.

Am I ready to embrace “forever”? Can I really live without offering music? Am I really able to fold up my tent and go home? Because there will be no opportunity to backslide. The bridge will not be burnt. It will be nuked.

I am scared to death.

Happy New Year!

Greetings! Long time no blog, I know. Busy with work, choir, family, yada-yada-yada. But this was the view from my living room window in Maine on New Year's Day. Once again, Keith and I were visiting the Inn on the Harbor in Stonington, ME for a restful break after the holidays. This time we brought Daphne, who loved the place every bit as much as we do.

As some of you may recall, I have been working on a commission sweater for Christina, the owner of the Inn. And as my friends could have predicted...who was knitting in the car all the way up on Saturday the 30th? Me, of course! And then I spent a couple additional hours finishing the neckline after supper in our room. I had packed the Eucalan and the woolly board. The sweater went into the kitchen sink at 10:30 PM, was rolled in towels to soak up the excess water, and placed on the woolly board in front of the woodstove to dry overnight.



Needless to say, it was still really wet at the waistband by morning, but I brought it down to Christina for the first fitting nevertheless. We discovered that the neck had an unpleasant tendency to flare, so New Year's Eve saw me tightening up the neckline. In the morning, however, everything looked so much brighter. Perfect fit in every respect!



Unfortunately, the detail doesn't show up well in these photos, as it's simply the very devil to photograph heathered lavender. Just look at Christina's smile, though. She was thrilled with the sweater, and I am so pleased to have had the honor of designing and knitting for her.

With no major project in my immediate future, I finally finished my Coopworth socks. This is my first pair done completely with my own spindle spun yarn. I spun in the grease from hand-combed locks, and I spun them in totally random order. Whatever came to hand as I reached into the bag got spun right up. No plan, just utter serendipity. The socks are unashamedly fraternal. I adore them.


Some of you already know I always said I would never, ever use a drop spindle. Too tedious. Too time consuming.

Ha! Drop spindles are portable. A small hunk of wool will keep a person busy for quite awhile. Drop spindles are smaller than spinning wheels and thus easier to hide when I have committed a retail therapy indiscretion. There are so many different styles, too, and each one has its own unique merits. I will be playing with spindles a lot more in the New Year, I think.

Oh, and the best thing about a drop spindle? I can spin on my coffee and lunch breaks at work if I don't feel like knitting. The Golding and Bosworth minis are wonderful companions.

Wishing everyone the best for a fibery 2007!