a smaller life

on the color pink

Cosyknits recently wrote a post about her changing views on color that is so appropriate to how I've been thinking, lately. I am coming to view colors differently- I've been watching myself shift from murky deep dusk colors into the bright and clear tones. There is still depth there, but I've been feeling a lot more playful with my color choices lately.

 

(This amazing, thigh- high sample sock was knit out of Skinny Bugga summer colorways by the lovely and talented Katydid Knits.)

This summer is full of surprises for me- some positive, some negative, some just… well, surprising. Looking at all my new colors on the lines, I can't help but wonder exactly what is happening with me, lately; my colors are bright and rich and jewel- toned. There are even a few strong pastels in there- strong enough to almost not qualify as pastels, but so light… well, maybe I need a new word for whatever those are.

They are gorgeous, though. That word fits. They are lovely and they just flash out at  me. They are influenced by the time of year, I'm sure, but even more by the people in my life; a lemon- chartreuse for Pamela, a darkish blue for my sister Megan (like her eyes), a purple- magenta for my aunt Karen. But there is nothing in there to explain the pale pink, or the orange with hot pink flashes; they are just there, lovely and colorful, and I've no idea where they have come from, of why I want to make them. 

It is the pinks that startle me. I've always hated pink; I've seen it as insipid, or obvious, or silly. But I don't, any more: certainly there are pinks that fit that description- Barbie pink, how I hate you- but there's something sweet and sensual in the pinks I've been making lately, delicate and generous.

 

 

Somehow, I am turning into a girl who loves pinks. Peachy pinks, nude negligee pinks, soft buttery yellows with pink tones, it's in everything. I've dyed a champagne color that I am so in love with, and I have thoughts of dusky grey- pinks, too. 

I have no idea what that means, but while I'm figuring it out, I'll be dyeing silk scarves for myself in every pink I can dream.

so soon?

On my way in from this morning's run I noticed that our tomatoes are begining to arrive. It seems so early for that sort of thing, but I've such a black thumb; I could be wrong. I'm terribly excited about them already, whispering welcomes as I water them, wondering if it is cruel to be kind to something I'm so looking forward to eating.

That is all.

the eleventh list of Very Good Things

 

 

The eleventh list. This one is short-not for a lack of things that are wonderful but for a lack of time in which to enjoy them. There's been a lot going on- school interviews (that's a long story for a different blog) and Kiddo's prom and Dye Camp preparations, puppy training and vet visits and yoga and running and trying, desperately, to catch up on a lot of sleep lost lately. Agh.

It's okay, I'll get caught up eventually. Right? I mean, sooner or later I have to.

I don't want to follow that set of thoughts to their seemingly inevitably depressing conclusion. Instead: here's a break out of my scrawl on Flickr, and a midweek post coming soon. There are a lot of great things to be happy about this week that I'm missing on this list. I'd love to hear your happy lists, people. 

the tenth list of Very Good Things (and a clarification)

Better late than never, right?

Deciphered on Flickr, and can you believe this has been going on for ten weeks now? Longer, if you count my non- listy photo entries. Awesome. 

(P.S.- Someone recently interpreted these lists as a sort of wish list, and I wanted to address that in case it's misconception held by anyone else. The point of these lists is gratitude and simplicity, not greed. I'm writing about things that are good now, and here, not asking for people to send me stuff. Not only would that be horrifically tacky, but the last thing I need in my life is more... well, things.) 

 

the ninth list of things that make me happy

 

 

 

Broken out on Flickr, of course.

My doctors and I have only recently really gotten a handle on how my disease is affected by heat, and this weekend was unbelievably hot. The current direction from my neuro is to avoid being in any temperature above 70 degrees for anything over thirty minutes. I'm pretty sure we both looked out the window at the already ridiculous Baltimore weather immediately after he said it; I know I said something like, "How am I supposed to manage that, exactly?" and his response involved shaking his head and suggesting I consider a handicapped placard for my car. 

 

I had an outdoor wedding to photograph Saturday at 11, but it was already in the 80s by 10 am. I shot the wedding anyways, with the help of a little sangria from Carma's Cafe and with Sam as my second, which helped a ton. (Side note: I'd like Carma's to cater my life, please.) I got the hell out of dodge immediately after the ceremony, and I think I did all right; I was feeling pretty crap at the end there, but air conditioning restored me pretty quickly and was careful with myself for the rest of the weekend.

The wedding really solidified what my doctors had been telling me: heat and me are a terrible mix. I had held secret hopes of being able to peek into Maryland Sheep and Wool for an hour or two, but after the wedding there was just no way; I missed it entirely, as I'd expected to.

The idea of missing MDS&W made me very sad: it seemed like a particularly egregious symbol of the recent, unwelcome changes in my life. We had a meetup on Saturday that I missed (that's work stuff! I've never been the type to miss work stuff!), there was funnel cake and lambs and gyros, and there was the tradition of the thing. I scheduled my deployment to fit around MDS&W, for crying out loud.

Honestly, though, this weekend was pretty fantastic. Sam guessed I'd be feeling pretty badly- I hate learning my restrictions, they make me feel so weak- so he went out of his way to take me around to all of my favorite things this weekend. I don't know if there are words for how wonderful it is to have a partner who can step in and seamlessly help me focus on feeling normal when everything seems off, but I'm damned grateful for him.

We went to Cosmic Comics for Free Comic Book Day, which is going to be our new way of celebrating the arrival of spring, I think. Sam and I both won prizes in the raffle, and all my back issues of House Of Mystery came in. We ate at Kelsey's and reviewed wedding photos together, picking through our favorite shots of Melissa and Rob. There was a pint or two of Harp involved, and in the evening we planted things. I have a black thumb, but I sure love planting things.

 

 

And Sam gave me a banjo, people. A banjo! If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

   

 

A banjo! I think her name is Emily, although we're still working it out. My poor husband and daughter will have to listen to me plinking away at this for the next... well, ever... until I get it figured out. I played guitar in high school, and bass later on, so hopefully I'll be a quick study. For Sam's sweet sake, at least.   

So- long story short (too late, as ever)- my weekend was amazing and unexpected, or unexpectedly amazing, despite missing sheep. How was yours?

currently making me happy

 

A goblin of my very own, from Goblin Road. (Shortcut to their shop here.) He needs a name, of course. Currently considering: Gilbert, Thornfield, Hareton, Jude, and Farfrae. (My Vic lit obsession, it is eating up my year.) I'm open to other ideas, of course. Suggestions/ votes? He'll be in Atlanta at Stitches South with us, in case you need to see him in person to make up your mind. 

Monday's list of very good things, even better

 

Broken out here, as ever. Holding the page down is my new flask. I wish you could see it better- it has a giant squid on it. A giant squid! Giant! Squid! You can see another like it here. I love it.

Speaking of love: Sam and I went to meet with his vascular neurologist this afternoon. We've been waiting for this appointment for about four years now, I think. It's an immense relief to be able to say that finally, finally, finally, he has a clean bill of health. The doctors have declared him healthy- no more clot, no major vascular or clotting disorders, and no more Coumadin.

That's all I really have to say, today: the best thing that has happened in 4 years happened today.

 

in which the week gets better, and not just because it rather had to

 

We're busy over here, packing for Stitches South in Atlanta this coming week. I don't know how communicative I'll be while we're there, but I'll give it my best. I've spent the weekend pouring through my outfits, trying on corsets, trying to decide which pieces of taffeta frippery will pack best and realizing that it really doesn't matter. All hotels have irons in them these days, right? 

Outside of packing ad preparing, though, there's been some fun. We spent some time making fun of our smart- phone addictions. There are three iPhones in this picture, and that's not counting Pamela's Blackberry, which was taking pictures for Twitter at the time. We are information addicts. Oh, or my own iPhone, tucked in my pocket. I remember a time when I couldn't understand why anyone would need a portable phone at all. Hm.

This week also brought about the end of a long- standing mystery, which was wonderful. I'm usually so let down when one of my Great Mysteries is solved- those un- Google-able things that you puzzle over for months. I usually prefer the things I've imagined to the real answers, which are generally far less exciting. This, though, wasn't a let- down at all.

 

 

We've been acting like children a lot in the house- I've been chasing Kiddo around the kitchen pretending to be a love zombie, or running our dogs around until they collapse. Or, in Hugo's case, hide in the bottom of the cat tree.

 

 

The best part of this week, though, began in the grocery store. We found Magic Grow Sea Beasties. Do you remember those? The giant colorful capsules that turned into sponge critters in hot water? I always wanted to take one like a pill as a child, although now, I think that would be pretty gross... but I'm still tempted.

 

 Look at all the options! We only allow ourselves to "release" two of them a day, and we pretend it's all very scientific at the time. Me, I'm waiting for the giant squid. Or the octopus, that would be pretty rad. Kiddo is waiting for the manta ray and Sam just likes flicking water on everybody.

 

 These things are so cool.

 

 

That's really all that's happening, lately. I still don't have a banjo- not for a lack of looking, or desire. I have this feeling that the right banjo will come to me, or something. My Banjo Destiny. Maybe I should check Atlanta's Craigslist? Atlanta seems like a great place to find a banjo.

Long story short- too late, again- the week got better, just as we'd suspected it might, and next week looks pretty good, too. Atlanta, here I come. I hope you're ready for me.

 

 

a photolist of Very Good Things

There's no written list this week- my Monday spun out of control too early to make one. The morning was fine- Kiddo was pleasant and cheerful, the weather was crisp and promising, the coffee just right. We got her to the train station just fine. There were no mangoes at Wawa for breakfast, but the pineapple I got was just as nice. It wasn't perfect- there were some problems to manage- but they all seemed pretty manageable at 9 am.

I went to the studio, looked at fish, ooh-ed and aah-ed over pregnant cats and potential kittens, tried on some garb.

Meanwhile, in Baltimore, a stranger walked into my house. Most of the Baltimore studio team was there, but they were working in back. Dave came in to take Hugo out for a walk, and caught the intruder coming out of my front door. He chased him, and the guy disappeared into or near a house up the street. Just barely up the street, by the way-  two houses from where we sleep. That's probably the worst part.

Someone came out of the house and threatened Dave, telling him that if the cops came to that house, they'd come to mine.

Oh, Baltimore.

Nothing was taken. No one was hurt. The police were polite and as helpful as they could be. It was still scary as hell. I'm sitting here with a bat to my left, listening to my neighborhood and generally feeling rather unsafe. So- no list this week, even though I could use one. Instead, a collection of images taken or grabbed throughout the week that make me happy. They're mostly cell phone photos, but I'm guessing you'll understand.

First, the Hugo-normous.

 

Fresh butter from our milkman this week. We take weekly delivery of dairy, bread, eggs and some meats from South Mountain Creamery, and we just love it. It really shouldn't be this weird to see a single ingredient listed on a label, but it's wonderful, too.

 

 

Then there's this image of Noelle, sent to us from Dave. It's hard to explain quite why this is one of the best parts of last week, but trust me, it is.

 

 

There was lunch last week at DiPasquale's, this absolutely amazing Italian deli in Highlandtown. (There's one in Towson, too, but I can't be bothered to go that close to Towson Town Center.) Their roast beef sandwiches are every bit as good as the best place back home. Possible even better, actually. It smells like home and happy and deliciousness.

    

I picked up my box contents at Cosmic Comix this weekend, too- the latest issue of The Boys. I love Cosmic Comix. They're girl- friendly, bright and well- organized, and located next to my local yarn shop (Cloverhill Yarns) and my yoga studio. They're also right around the corner from Appalachian Bluegrass, which sells banjos and gives banjo lessons. Hm. More and more, I seem to be convincing myself to move to Catonsville. Anyways- forgive the crap photo- I just wanted to capture the "Batman Wins!" sign.

 

There's also this incredibly bizarre image I found... somewhere... last week. I don't remember where. Probably Twitter, given how random this is. I have no idea what it is, or what is happening here, but if anyone knows anything about it I'm willing to offer a reward for the end of all this suspense. This is currently my phone's background image.

 

From Monday, a picture of my butt. More specifically, my butt in the bottom half of the late 1800s, smoke- grey dress Gryphon is making for me. It rustles when I walk, it is gorgeous, and it's not even done yet.

 

Finally, a goblin, brought to visit the studio for the day by Noelle. Isn't he perfect? He comes from Goblin Road, he has handspun hair, and I think I need one of his siblings to come live with me.

 

Long story short (too late!), it hasn't been a bad week. Yesterday was crap, but I think we'll be back on track soon. Be safe, everyone.

dogs and lists and positive thinking

 

 

Oh, I am so behind this week. Behind on everything, from my LoVGT (List of Very Good Things) to my laundry to a class I'm supposed to be taking online, late on finishing everything, late on starting anything I'd planned this week. Agh.

I'm making new lists of things to do- and simplifying them, this time. Trying to carefully determine how much can and should go into a day.

Speaking of lists: my very, very late list of things that are good:

 

 

 (Broken out on Flickr, like always.)

There is a lot going on right now- changes to the house, changes in routine and ritual, classes, yoga (I signed up for a set of classes at a very nearby studio, so excited), puppies to train.

Wait, did I say puppies? I meant puppy. This puppy, and to hell with self- restraint.

 

The camera use around the dogs is constant and epic. I keep trying to photograph the two of them playing together, but they're too fast and it all comes out as a blur. I did managed to catch one of poor Lilu after a play session, though.

 

 

  

(What's that line about sleeping dogs?) The longer we have a puppy, the more I come to realize that Lilu is older than I'd really thought about. She's about seven years old, which is about middle aged for a Rottweiler, even a tiny one like our girl. She's incredibly patient about Hugo crawling all over her and chewing on her face, but he wears her right out. Just looking at her trying to keep up with him wears me out.

I try to be sweet to her, and take her on walks, and be patient when she insists on tearing up my new door trying to eat the mailman or the milkman or the UPS man or, well, anyone how doesn't live or work here. You only get so many days. I think about that a lot- about the amount of days/ hours/ minutes we get, and how we never really know what that number is, and how that's probably a kindness. If I knew how many hours I had, I'd probably spend 15 minutes calculating how many I'd spent in a job I loathed and then I'd spend at least another 45 minutes being angry about it. Possibly more.

That's one of the nice things about MS. There aren't many, but this is one of them: I'm constantly aware that things could be very different for me, that they might end up very different for me. It might be sudden, or it might creep up on me, or it might not even happen at all. All that uncertainty, especially after a full year of uncertainty- helps me stay closer to the moment. Things are good; I should focus on those things, and how good they are. Next year I might not be able to have sore knees from running. I probably will, but who knows? There's no use eating up my minutes/ hours/ days worrying about that, but I'm definitely more conscious and careful to enjoy things. I used to let so much pass me by. It's nicer this way.