Knitting on Impulse

Summer Days

I've come to the realization that the only way to be productive over the summer holidays is to get up... first.  Six AM on the patio looks like this:

And this:

Round about 08:00, the munchkins stumble out for sleepy morning kisses, and the day begins to gather momentum. I try to remember that this time is precious rather than unproductive:

As the afternoon slips away, we turn our imaginations to the remaining farm market produce:

 

Patio suppers are an exquisite summer pleasure, sometimes accompanied by just a wee bit more wine than is technically necessary.  Rob and I linger at the table while the kids run wild in the garden, and a wee bit of knitting gets done:

Then the flurry of baths and bedtime, cleanup and last minute tasks for tomorrow....  it's invariably late, but sleep is postponed just a bit for a cup of tea and a half hour of mindless knitting.

Small steps, incremental progress - summer is a good exercise in choosing to live in the moment.

The View From My Cubicle

As the saying goes, a bad day at the Market is still better than a good day at the office. Not that it was a terribly bad day, but... let's just say that those of us whose financial wellbeing is tied to the tourist economy are rooting for an upturn in the fortunes of you lovely folk to the south. 

The mirror to the right belongs to my exceedingly talented next door neighbour, Catherine Bayly of Raven Studio. 

What We Do On Sundays

In case you were wondering....

Our view to the left:

Our view to the right:

The nice thing about having the yarn up this year is that:

1. Knitters stop by.  And talk about things like waist shaping, and exchange Ravelry ID's and on good days it is a little like having one of those in-the-flesh knitting groups that bloggers write about.  (Which, since I seem to be the closest thing Whistler has to a LYS, may not be so strange, after all.  Too bad there's no room for chairs in the tent....)
2. I meet people who don't stare blankly and then giggle when I tell them I write a knitting blog. 
3. In fact, I feel downright normal at several points during the day (as opposed to eccentric with a secret online life.) 

After The Kids Went To Bed

Rob suggested that we make the best of the mediocre wedding band blaring golden oldies from the hotel rooftop across the road and enjoy a blessedly cool evening on the patio, sipping sherry by candlelight.

Good call, honey.  Oh, and since it's his 45th birthday tomorrow (actually, in 10 minutes time) I think he deserves some birthday wishes, don't you?  On account of being the world's best husband and all....

Happy Canada Day!

A Good Day

It really was.  It was windy, but warm enough, the dense grey-green clouds elected to skim the mountains just above, leaving us in a corridor of sunshine between storm systems, the crowds were out, the music was happy, the vendors were dancing, and it was very very good.  The angst-y stuff from last week seems to have been sorted and settled.  The thing is, there is a fine line between being kind and helpful and accomodating and being a self-destructive doormat, but the act of declaring that line invariably causes me enormous anxiety and self-doubt.  I spent the week worrying and discussing it with invisible people in the shower, but it seems the aftermath will be OK.  (Just toss it on the astoundingly big pile of Things I Have Worried About that turned out just fine in the end.)

Sunny!

Thank-you SO much for all the well-wishes - I feel vaguely sheepish, considering it was kind of a lame post - but very, very much appreciated.  Very.  It was a gloriously sunny day, with excellent crowds, decent sales for the time of year, and happy reunions with friends from last year.  The yarn garnered a bit of interest, and I even met a fellow Raveler (whom I identified by her T-shirt!)  It was lovely, we were soaking up the sun, feeling good, right up to the last bit of packing up.... should I spoil it and mention why I am churning away with anxiety all over again?  Let's just say it's a politically volatile environment, and we have bent over backwards to show good-will, often at personal cost. Although in dark moments I wonder if it hasn't just put a big bullseye on our foreheads, I keep clinging to the belief that if we take the high road, good karma will prevail in the long run.  Each challenge thus far has eventually shown that to be true, but... I'd just like the goalposts to stay in one place for a while. The anxiety and the regrouping seriously impinge on the creative energy, you know?  Maybe in a few years, I'll be used to this, but right now... it sucks. 

So I was thinking, since the sunny thoughts worked so spectacularly well, some wisdom and good karma wishes would be most welcome!

My wonderful darling husband picked up a bit of happy for our lunch:

Oh, the healing powers of fresh figs and feta!

Moving Right Along

I suppose I should blog one of these days, eh?  It has been an.... interesting week.  You know how there are some people who make you feel brave and hopeful and energized by their very presence, and then there are other people who sincerely sympathize about your impending abject failure, and commiserate generously about the utter futility of overcoming adversity of any kind?  Ahem.  Thanks to my lovely blog friends (you know who you are), my sense of humour and optimism remain intact.

So: yarn got dyed, the gridwalls were juggled about on the patio and will fit... somehow, the rip isn't too bad, and can probably even be put off for a week, one way or another skeins will be hung from the rafters, notecards were stuffed, and the rest of it... may or may not get finished by Sunday.  Either way it will be OK.  As will I. In fact, I'm going to get off the computer right now and go for a walk with the camera.

We Interrupt This Program For a Brief Grumble

Warning: whining ahead.  Pretty pictures at the end, if you want to skip down there.

-----------------------------> Commence Complaining

I'm feeling drained and overwhelmed this week.  Five days to the opening Market, and I(we) still haven't:

• set up the gridwall to check the logistics within the tent / beside the tables
• set up the tent to see where exactly the seam split while my friend was using it over the winter and repair said seam since it is almost certain to rain
• finished the last of the silk scarves
• cleared a path to my jewellery bench in order to fill some rather glaring holes in inventory
• figured out exactly how I am going to hang yarn from the slanty rafters of the tent
• checked to see if the new riser covers fit (actually I think I need to measure and cut apart the muslin)
• bought an electric heater so we don't freeze again (or at least have warmer feet)
• stuffed a hundred more notecard sleeves
• followed through on cool signage ideas

Oh and besides that, we just started a complete website rebuild that I kind of wanted to have finished by the end of the month (because it really is a good time of year to do it), I have at least four patterns sitting half-written for months (and making me feel lamer by the minute that I haven't finished them) and six more designs just waiting to be properly written up so I can get on with the cool colourwork kits.  Also I think I've forgotten to answer some questions from the comments - please don't hate me, and consider asking again?  I really should sift back through those.... Plus... a hundred useful and important business things that are exiting the task list at an agonizingly slow rate.  Oh, and the small matter of sorting, decluttering and reorganizing our living room into a never-in-stock-when-we-can-get-there Ikea wall unit so we can stop living like squatters in a warehouse. (It's a fibre warehouse, so it could be worse, but still...)

Top priority for the last two weeks was the worryingly sick kids, followed by the weekend's endless you-WILL-catch-up-on-this-schoolwork battle with a daughter recovered sufficiently to be oppositional. Did I mention we have company this week? Coming tomorrow?

Self care and exercise are totally off the radar. Though I've somehow managed to be on my feet enough to aggravate the bum hip that normally plagues my running, and the throbbing pain is not at all improving my superhuman parental patience quotient.  Grumble.

------------------------> End of Whinging.

Look - Forget-Me-Not's:

And cool coniferous.... reproductive... thingies:

Saturday Diversions

Shades of orange:

Sock yarn box:

Sauntering:

Oh, for a proper telephoto!  He wasn't all that far away, but I wasn't about to push my luck.