Posie Gets Cozy

Oh, I would post today . . .

. . . though I should be proofing, but I've already wasted too many hours trying to find all the good Old Crow Medicine Show videos, trying to learn all the words to this song by heart, and sending funny Tweedy to Andy and Amanda, and writing them really hilarious notes that say, "I can't do my wuuuk!" Still funny. To me. And then having an entire conversation with my editor about how "I can't do my wuuk!" Whereupon she naturally said, "Wha' happened?" When I let her actually get a word in. Which was rarely, and then only barely. Another reason to love her. Gotta go buy an OCMS tee-shirt now. And I'm missing People's Court. Also, there is nothing for lunch. And Clover keeps looking at me.

All future errata in my book? Today. 'Cause of today.

***

Also, sorry to anyone who reads this from a feed (I don't use them, but apparently people were getting 40 posts from me with insider info about Colin Farrel and Amy Winehouse) but, mystery solved: There's a note from Typepad: "On March 6, 2008 we experienced a brief problem with our feed service on TypePad. Some TypePad users were affected, where another blog's entries appeared to be coming from their feed. We've corrected the problem and feeds are now rendering correctly, but your readers may still see these incorrect entries in RSS reading applications (like Google Reader). We're very sorry for the confusion this issue may have caused you and your readers — and we're working hard to make sure it doesn't happen again."

See what I mean? Chaos! :-)

Though I do love me some good celebrity gossip, don't get me wrong.

Thank-You Flowers

Hi. These are for you, with love.

Thank you for the thousand small kindnesses, the pats and kisses and wishes, all the patience, the nods, for all the samenesses and the differences between us, all the miles and even years. Stories take so long to tell, sometimes. You tell them, sheepish, because here we go again. Occasionally it feels much like telling a dream — you're explaining, your listener's patiently indulging (kind-eyed: "Go on,"), and you're (still thinking you can get it right) scrambling to put your finger on it all. To what end, I'm not sure. Just to say, I think. Just to have been listened to. "We were in the backyard, but it wasn't the backyard, it was more like a ship, I think it was the Coral Sea, except that I've never been there, but yeah I'm pretty sure it was the Coral Sea."

And your listening friend goes, "Ah, yes, the Coral Sea," and bobs slightly, feeling small waves.

Thank you. xoxo

March 5th

Second proofs got here Saturday morning. There will be one more round before I kiss the book goodbye, my darling, and good luck, good luck! When first proofs came, about a month ago, it was an intense experience to see them, even just to get the package, I have to say. I immediately took the big envelope up to the hospital, and opened it in the hospital cafeteria with Andy. I thought it would be best to do so while under medical supervision, in case my heart jumped out of my chest. But really, when the FedEx truck pulled up in front of the house, I just knew I couldn't look at them without him. In the pages, I saw our life. It wasn't ever what I expected to see, when I started this book earlier last year. I thought it would be a book of sewing projects and patterns. But somehow, even without me really realizing it (or, truth be told, even wanting it, some days), the thing became something more than that. I expect it always does. I just didn't know. In the hospital cafeteria, I cried when I saw, feeling overwhelmed and privileged, thankful for so much.

Today is the tenth anniversary of my accident, that day that, in its way, led me to this life, with stitching at its center, though I didn't know that would happen, either. I've been looking at this paragraph for an hour, trying to figure out what to think about it, but really, all I can see is the future.

All I can feel is the urge to change, grow, bloom.

(After going back to reread last year and the year before: The metaphor, always the same. I didn't know that either. But, yeah. It feels the same every time. The tilting forward. Up.)

Dishtowel Thinking

I worked on the dishtowels all weekend and finished the embroidery part last night. I couldn't resist getting a bunch of new little 1/2 yards of fabric as I tried to pick something for the binding. I'll work on the binding edges tonight and hopefully finish many of them to show you tomorrow, and have the pattern, at least, available by the weekend. I'm very pleased with these.

I thought about my grandma a whole lot while I was doing these towels. For some reason they just reminded me of her and her kitchen so much, even though the items I pictured are things from mine. My grandparents bought their first house when they were in their seventies; previous to that they owned several apartment buildings on the west side of Chicago and in Oak Park, the last being at 209 S. Oak Park Avenue, on the corner of Pleasant Street across from St. Edmund Church and school. I lived in this building until I was three, when in 1972 my parents bought our house in River Forest, but my grandparents continued to own "the building" for many years afterwards, living there as landlords. We girls spent a lot of time with them. They moved to their little ranch house in River Forest, just across the park from our house, sometime in the early '80s, I think. We lived a block west but on the other side of a tall railroad trestle that bordered both our street on the east and theirs on the west, and so their back yard led onto the wooded hill that lofted those tracks about twenty feet above the houses. It ran along the length of our streets, and across the town, headed northwest to Minnesota and beyond. That was the Soo Line, and the sound of its locomotives and freight cars rolling along the tracks across from our house was a constant companion of my childhood, and I think my love of trains developed there. I miss the sound of that steady, soulful thing, especially at night, so much. Our neighborhood was an urban place, yet so sleepy and wooded because of the tracks, and the park, and that's what I always loved about living in River Forest, and still miss. I think living in the house was very quiet for my grandparents, compared to when they owned the building, in the middle of businesses and restaurants near the El tracks and the intersections, and had dozens of tenants to attend to. They were city people. I wonder if they liked that River Forest quiet. I don't know. I think they were probably lonely there.

My grandma wore what she called "housedresses" every day, and those were made of calicos of the kind that I feel nostalgic and even very emotional about now — tiny prints on dark backgrounds, usually navy or black. She made all the dresses herself, and they were very simple A-line dress without linings or facings, just trimmed in contrast-colored bias tape, with two big patch pockets on the front and probably a keyhole neckline that tied in the back with long ends of bias tape. My sissy and I were on the phone yesterday talking about fabric, and grandma's dresses, and where they were (all gone now). My mom was here over the weekend and I showed her the dishtowels and the fabric I had chosen for the trim and she immediately exclaimed, "That's so grandma!" without me even telling her what I was going for, so I felt I'd gotten it right.

When I think of my grandparents' little kitchen, I think about afternoons, and their table, covered in oilcloth, where my grandpa sat and peeled a yellow apple with a paring knife every single day. I think about the ridged, rectangular coconut cookies they bought every week from Dominick's. I think about this aqua blue plastic holder that they always had for their 1/2 gallon milk container, to make it easier to pour. I think about how disappointed my grandma was that her stove in the house was electric, and she never really got over that. As I write this, I suddenly realize that I've talked about it before. The images bubble up, usually the same, some absent, some new, but so . . . few, and always fraught with longing. Sometimes I feel like I could just sit and write about my grandma all day, even what little I know. When I buy little pieces of fabric, I feel closer to her. Those fabrics feel like home when home is gone.

Did Friday happen? I missed it.

I can't believe it's the weekend already. Yesterday completely disappeared. I woke up about an hour later than usual and it was like the whole day was lost, what is that. Last weekend Andy Paulson and I spent every waking moment in various coffee shops around Portland going over every line of the book proofs together (and let me just say for the record the man can now add Technical Editor to his illustrious list of titles because he. is. awesomeness itself. Thank you thank you thank you!). (And also forgot to say that I was giggling at how many people mentioned Chicago [that's editor-slang for the book, not the city] on the table, which if the flip-book of last week were accurate would also have a picture of me picking that thing up 46,000 times, trying to remember anything about how to edit page proofs properly.) I came home to find an opportunity to get Amy's papercutting patterns in pdf format and yeah, I couldn't press that download button fast enough. The perfect antidote to the millions of fractions and their metric conversions lurching about in my poor little pea-brain? Sitting and cutting pretty hearts and flowers out of colored paper. I can't tell you how easy or how much fun I had doing this because that would take words and my brain is frappéed like a milkshake (finished the proofs on time for once and returned them Thursday night, yay) but just look:

Are these not cool and pretty, just like Amy? Get them here and prepare to enjoy yourself completely. I know. It's addictive.

Amy and I had dinner together without knowing we'd each been nominated for a Bloggie award along with sweet Megan (Not Martha) and Apartment Therapy and Post Secret in the art/craft category, so how cool is that! We were cracking up the next morning to see. Thanks you guys, jeez! I am honored that anyone even reads this thing, let alone nominates it for anything, so thank you for that. (And that's right Karol if I find one square of Charmin on my lawn this weekend consider that I have wicked good aim with the Silly String, just sayin!) I haven't had time to look at all the entries but there are some amazing blogs I have never even heard of before over there, but then again I live in my own little malted-milkshake vortex so no surprise there. That's gonna change. This one? HOW. COOL. That one's gonna keep me busy for hours, I can't wait.

This weekend will be a photography weekend, shooting a few retakes for the book and a couple of new process shots and I don't know what else — gotta look at the list. I did manage to upload some pictures to Flickr the other day and I have to say I do kind of like just looking through all the photos without the text of the blog. Andy made me the photo album of Clover pictures printed from the blog for my birthday, and I'm thinking next month I may do a big "print 'em out and frame 'em" with the photos that are just on my computer. It's been years now since I've actually printed and framed a digital photo. That's gonna change.

After this weekend, I am going to be free, seriously free, for the first time in a looooong time. I can't wait. Can't wait!

C. W.!!!!!!!

Where I Steal the Cat's Chair, and She Eyes It Longingly

Can you find the Bee? She can't wait to get me out of the studio. I so rarely actually sit when I'm in here; she is bewildered to discover that apparently I think this is my chair. I am working really nicely, and not getting out at all these days, which seems great, really. It's so cold and windy, though sunny. We expatriate Chicagoans are apparently quite wimpy about cold and wind anymore, what's up with that. That's embarrassing. Maybe I'm just unmotivated to leave the nice warm house. I almost went across town the other day. I said, "Hun, where's that Powell's that's by the Pizza Schmizza that's by the Bank of America where we saw the rainbow that one day?" And he said, "On Cedar Hills Blvd." Me: "Where's that?" Him: "I don't know." Me: "Oh well, I'll just stay home." WOW. That's crazy-lazy.

I've gotten really lazy about Flickr, too. I'm so happy when all my pictures are organized over there but I don't enjoy uploading them, though they couldn't make it any easier. I think you can upload it over there first, then blog it over here, but I never do that. I don't know why. No, I do. Begins with an "L." Isn't it weird how there are some fairly simple things you just don't like to do? Brooke in the comments said she doesn't like making pancakes or rice. I can totally see that (the rice part; I love making pancakes). I don't really like making rice either. I hate scanning things. I'll do almost anything to avoid having to scan something. And while I'm on the subject, let me just say for the record how having a cat sitting on me or even touching me while CLEANING ITSELF would have to top this list of things that I try to avoid. Uploading pictures, rice-making, cat-cleaning, scanning, wind, noodles that are even the slightest bit overcooked (bad), and . . . oh yeah, the smell of candles that have just been blown out (eeeeewwwww yuck).

Ez tagged me to tell Seven Random Things. Pretty sure she didn't mean Seven Random Things that Annoy Me, but what can you do. At least I didn't do Seven Random Ways I Am Annoying, though that would've probably been easier, actually. I can think of a lot of those. I'm also too lazy to actually tag seven people, so please consider yourself "it" and play at will.

My New Plan

Thank you for all the sweet birthday wishes! I have a whole lot of email to answer, and thank-you notes to write, and mail to sort through this week, but until I get to all of it, thank you! I had a great birthday.

Now it's back-to-work time, big time. That feels really good. The house is kind of a mess. Book proofs arrive the day after tomorrow, and I'll have those to proofread for a week and a half. My new web site is almost finished. My new-and-improved crochet pattern samples are finished and photographed. Some publicity is coming out in the next few weeks so I'm trying to get ready for that, though I've made the Executive Decision not to go crazy trying to get a bunch of stuff made for the web shop (which has been closed, and will be through January 14). As usual, everything sort of happens all at once, but I'm just not going to rush this time. I don't want to rush around anymore. I know I am the only one that can change that in my life.

January is kind of weird, isn't it? After the holidays, and that long period of intense preparation and celebration, the new year comes right up. And then there's pressure to get everything reorganized and improved right away. But I'm just going to try to pace myself this month, and this year. I already was trying, but when a drill bit comes out of your ankle it really puts things into perspective, you know? I have to set my own reasonable pace, no matter what demands are put upon me. I really don't know why that's so hard. For me, I suspect it requires saying "no" more often. How do you pace yourself and stay balanced (if you do)? Any advice?

Seattle Birthday

We spent the weekend in Seattle, seeing some of our oldest friends and celebrating my birthday yesterday. I had an absolutely fantastic time. Seattle is so wonderful.

We took the train up Saturday morning, arriving just in time for lunch at Pike Place Market. I love to sit and look at the water, and watch the big boats hover, and see the light change minute to minute.

We stayed at the Inn at the Market, which was just steps away from Pike Place. It's really fun to just be able to walk out of your hotel and grab a little bag of cinnamon donuts, fresh flowers, and coffee at the original Starbucks.

And every kind of seafood. It's touristy, but so colorful. I love it down there.

Our friends from college, Bob and Wendy, have lived in Seattle for thirteen or fourteen years. Our other friends from college, Pam and Jim, live in Chicago, and they flew out with their little boy on Friday night. We hadn't seen Pam and Jim in about five years, and getting to spend my birthday with all of these old friends, so incredibly dear to my heart, was just awesome. I can't believe we have all known each other now for almost twenty years.

Saturday we hooked up with the girls in the afternoon, and wandered around downtown for a while, then met the boys for dinner later. We made a quick stop after dinner at the Space Needle, which really is very cool, especially at night.

When we got back to the hotel, we stopped off for a candlelight creme brulee at Cafe Campagne, just steps away from our room.

Isn't it nice to come "home" to a bed that someone has turned down for you? I must say I like that.

Sunday-morning city, from our hotel window.

Breakfast with everyone at Easy Street Records with the best-behaved restaurant-going almost-three-year-old I have ever met in my life.

Later, the boys went for a hike, and the girls — we went for a different kind of hike. Going up and down those escalators at Westlake Center is great exercise.

Monday was my birthday! Beautiful Blair met us for breakfast back at the Sound View Cafe. More ships came in. I really could've just sat and watched them all day.

But there were cupcakes Royale to be had, and a visit to the new Seattle Public Library.

Can you believe this is the library?

Kiss kiss, Seattle. Thank you so much.

It was perfect.

My New Bit

Okay I was peeing laughing yesterday at all the comments on the drill bit. The things I will do for a comment! Seriously, though, I wish I had known before that so many other objects have ejected themselves from people's bodies decades after the original . . . encounter. Glass, pants fiber, pins, screws, and at least one very long black thread. Since I've stopped swearing (bad time to choose that as a resolution, I now see) I can't really tell you what I "thought" when I read all that but — O, THE HUMANITY!!!

Yesterday was awesome. We had such a great time doing nothing. We watched some of my favorite movies, including one that is definitely in my top ten, The Wonder Boys with Michael Douglas, Tobey Maguire, and Robert Downey, Jr. I think that movie is absolutely perfect. We also watched Another Thin Man and Chasing Liberty. I love Mandy Moore. I just do. I think she is adorable. Oh, and A Mighty Wind. Another great one. "Wha' happened?" Do you have any idea how many opportunities there are in just a normal day to say "Wha' happened?" like that? I think I said it about fifty or sixty times yesterday. Good times.

In the middle of the night, Andy woke up, and then I woke up, and he looked at the clock and said, "Hmmm, it looks like the power is out."

     "Wha' happened?" [It's my new "bit."]

We looked out the front bedroom window and saw that the whole block was dark. We could see lights from a utility truck flashing like strobes in the darkness — someone was on it. According to Andy's watch it was 4 a.m. Hours passed and I never really got back to sleep. Strangely, I had just watched this on Jools Holland the night before so I couldn't get the song and its lyrics out of my mind. I spent quite a while thinking about what it would be like to be in a super-cool band like Arcade Fire. Then I started thinking about how every time I see someone doing something like playing a violin, or ice skating, or dancing I always start getting all fidgety, wishing I was a violin player, or a figure skater, or a ballet dancer. Then I got annoyed with myself for thinking that way, and thought about just appreciating those things without feeling the impulse to do those things. Then I thought about jobs I would not want to do, like be a personal assistant. I never see personal assistants and think "That's what I want to do." Or air-traffic controllers. I think that would be a terrible job for me, though I really appreciate that there are people who want to do it. I think I might have enjoyed being a lawyer, actually. Except for the part where you have to stand up and talk in front of people without losing control of yourself. So I couldn't do that. Etc., etc. This went on for a while. How thinking goes at 4 a.m. By morning, the house was cold though the water was hot, so I took a lovely shower by candlelight. When we went out, we could see that a big tree had fallen down and taken out a power line on the next block.

Isn't it weird how the trees just fall over? Poor thing. Luckily it fell directly away from our neighbor's house and landed on some other trees across the street. Nevertheless, the power looked like it would be out all morning so we headed out to Milo's for breakfast. Thank you PGE and whoever was out all night working on cutting this tree down and restoring power to our neighborhood this morning. It was very cold and I'm guessing most if not all of those guys were wishing they were "lying with their heads in the toilet like all normal people" on New Year's Day (that's Bridget Jones's Diary, another great New Year's movie I forgot about). "PGE guy" would be one of those jobs I would pretty much completely suck at. "Surgeon," obviously, would be another.

This year I think I'll just work on getting "non-hysteric" down.

Where I Plan to Stay Home Until 2008

Oh, the quiet wind-down of the year. There is frost on the roofs of the houses across the street this morning. New Year's Eve. The last day of 2007.

It's been wonderful having the past couple of weeks off. Absolutely wonderful. Christmas was quiet and lovely. We spent Christmas Eve at my sister's beautiful new house. The highlight of the evening was Arden, our nine-year-old niece, passing out the crochet presents she'd been secretly working on for weeks. I know I've said it before, but this girl truly is a crocheting wunderkind. As we opened our presents (pictured here are the hat and scarf she made for Frances the polar bear, and all without a pattern) pure amazement was expressed as we looked at each thing she'd made entirely on her own, with no help from anyone — a hat, a round pillow, a bracelet, a scarf, a stuffed bear for her brother, and juggling balls — and a collective cheer went up for our girl. It was my favorite moment of Christmas.

Thank you for all your kind Christmas comments and well-wishes and the beautiful cards and presents. Egads, so kind of you — thank you. It all gave me such a sweet, warm glow to carry through the holiday. I've spent the past week quietly crocheting, soaking up the wind-down of the year, reflecting and planning things for the next one. Nevertheless, a worry was plaguing me. My bad foot had not been feeling right since November. I tried to push it to the back of my mind, since there were so many other things going on, but for a couple of weeks a small bump had been looming on my ankle. I tried to stay off my foot, hoping it would disappear. By last week it could not be denied. It was popping up in a place that was held together by lots of plates and screws, where my bones were put back together at the time of my accident in 1998. Last week I went to see my regular doctor, who referred me to the orthopedist; because of the holiday I wouldn 't be able to get in until this coming Wednesday. But by early Sunday morning, the bump looked big and angry, and had developed a tiny, weeping hole, so, once again, we headed up the hill to the ER.

Eight a.m. Sunday morning at the ER felt oddly comforting and familiar. To say I was "nervous" doesn't begin to describe it. I think the clinical term is "very, very, very-very-very nervous." My blood pressure and pulse were insane. While the docs drew blood, asked questions, took x-rays, and looked concerned, I quaked with anxiety until someone gave me an Ativan. Under warm blankets, I took deep breaths and watched "Christmas in Yellowstone" and held Andy's hand, all of which helped to calm me. Slightly. Hours passed. People in scrubs and coats came and went. Sometime in the afternoon, the very kind orthopedic surgeon appeared to talk to us and said, as they usually do to me, "Well, there's something very unusual on your x-ray."
     "Really."
     "It seems a drill bit is trying to get out of your ankle."
     "[I'm giving up swearing for new year's so I won't repeat here the long string of very creative expletives that whizzed through my brain upon receiving this news.]"

I won't go into the details either, but basically at the time of my original surgeries, a drill bit had broken off and stuck into bone. When that happens, they leave it there, if it looks like it won't cause any problems. And it didn't, for almost ten years, though who knows how long it's been trying to work its way out. By the time the surgeon removed it yesterday, the tip of it was actually coming through the skin.When I got home, I told my friend Elizabeth this story. She screamed appropriately (thank you, E) and then said, "So your ankle was like 'Pa-tooey!' and . . . spit it out." Prrrrretty much, yeah.

Everything's good now. I am fine and feeling more relieved than I can say. Turns out having a drill bit in your ankle is actually not as bad as some of the other problems I was imagining! Of all the things I was imagining, I will admit that I hadn't considered that there might be a tool coming out of my body. Luckily, it came out without any trouble and now just has to heal up. Nevertheless, it is my fervent wish to stay out of trouble for the rest of 2007. To that end, I plan to stay on the sofa all day, cuddling Frances (above) and Clover (video and photos coming soon, just haven't had time), eating shrimp cocktail and homemade eggrolls (thank you Andy), and watching movies, the New Year's Eve ones you guys recommended last year.

Be well, everybody, and a very, very Happy New Year to you all!

xoxo,
a