Knit one?

UUUgh! I think I'm coming down with a cold.

The thing is, when I have a cold, or think I may be coming down with one, I have to cancel my clients as a precaution, but no work; no pay. Which makes me real unsympathetic when my non self-employed friends complain that they are using up their "sick day" pay in order to nurse themselves back to health. "Boo Hoo".

The SARS scare a few years ago has made us bodyworkers extra cautious

around our clients. Who wants your therapist leaning over you snorting back snot, imploding with a stifled sneeze (though it seems that nothing's escaping, that little "tssst" sound one makes is not terribly reassuring) or choking on a repressed coughing fit? Strangely, many people find this sort of behaviour negatively impacts on their ability to surrender to the relaxation process; muscles tense and negative thoughts abound.

But I can't just lay here and do nothing (at least not yet) so I'm catching up on all the odds 'n ends around here. Moving information and files over from the old laptop to my new MAC, cooking, doing laundry and blogging, amongst other things. There's always something that needs doing.

For a brief moment I fantasized about getting back into knitting the Inside-Outside scarf (click on that link to see how it should look, especially since these are the colours I've chosen). The one that Glynnie has pretty much finished already. The one that Pam and went to THE NEEDLE EMPORIUM to enlist Julie's help. The one that Pam and I started numerous times before - Pam in order to achieve the ideal look and me because I kept on loosing track of turning the needles vs sliding the yarn on the needles. Glynnie, "I will never ever again accept your protestations about what a lousy knitter you are! It's time to own it, own the fact that you are far more skilled than you let on." She's knitting's version of the card shark — a lot of bluff.

I didn't knit today because good ol' guilt got in the way. Today was supposed to be a work day and I don't feel that bad. My throat just feels cruddy. I found out yesterday that Pam came down with the bug after we went to the ONE OF A KIND craft show in Toronto (I don't do malls for shopping, but I do the One of a Kind - thankfully it comes only twice a year) last Wednesday - she felt crappy that night. I talked with her yesterday and though she's on the mend, she still sounded like she was dying. She had achey joints and a temperature of 102 for a few days coupled with bronchial and head stuff; scratchy throat — the whole shebang. It's probably just as well that I didn't know about this before now as it would probably put me into a hypochondriacal spin.

I'm plugging myself with vitamin C, water, COLD FX and oil of oregano so that I can go to my first session in MAC training tonight. I go bearing anti-bacterial gel and tissues and vow to keep a healthy distance from others. Much as I despise infected people going out in public, if I miss this session I have to wait another few months and my tolerance for frustration is

nearing a max.

As I've learned, when I'm happy everyone around

me is a lot happier too and as the day is wearing on I'm doing O.K. Hopefully this will prove to be more than just wishful thinking.

mucking about

Here I am pondering the wonders of the computer age. This is a pose I suppose I take a lot now that I'm addicted to blogging.

Just mucking about and not knowing what it does, I clicked on Photo Booth. BAM! There I was on the screen staring back at myself - it was a bit of a shock - didn't have time to prepare myself for what I was about to see. I preferred the pencil rendering to the photo style so this is what you see here. It sets a rather reflective tone, don't you think?

Rod said tonight, "just a few years ago we both said we'd never have cell phones or e-mail because we didn't want to be accessible 24/7. And now we can't even go a single day without using them. Who'd have thought that we'd have 2 cell phones and (as of a few weeks ago) 2 computers... and we've almost figured out how to use them!"

I'm amazed at how essential this technology has become personally and professionally. Many clients now make their appointments through e-mail. And, dare I say it, I'm actually getting to enjoy what this stuff can do.

Blogging has helped me so much. It motivates me to learn because I'm curious as to what I can do by experimenting. It's just me, the keyboard, my camera and my imagination. What can I do with all of this? I check out the work of others and am inspired by the work I see them producing.

The picture placement on my last post sucked so I am now trying out the new post editor; didn't realize that there even was a new version. My picture placement looked fine until I posted it and then it just got weird and so I consulted the help section of blogger and found out about the updated version.

Just yesterday morning, over a cup of coffee and a croissant at Pane Fresco, after a training walk in prep for Around the Bay, Candy told me to check out Julie's blog - A Really Good Yarn - (Julie owns The Needle Emporium in Ancaster). Candy, an avid reader and fan of knitting blogs, had seen some mention of picture placement in one of Julie's entries.

Wouldn't you know it, later that same day after a knitting session with Pam and Glyn, Pam and I decided to go to Julie's shop today to get some assistance with the Inside Outside Scarf that we thought would be so much "fun to do" but was instead causing us huge agro.

Fantastic! Today I was able to hit 2 birds with one stone getting not only knitting but blogging help too. Could a day be any better than that?

And, as you can also see, Flippy approves of the new computer. Here she is, last Friday, marking her territory rubbing her little saliva glands all over it. I tried to shove her away, but she was persistent.

As I took the picture I noticed Maya sitting patiently in the doorway. (Look really closely, she's to the left of Flip; you can see her silhouette against the green wall.) I lost track of time and, according to them, it was getting around dinner time. Maya (aka The Opportunist) was waiting for Flip to do her magic - bug the hell out of me until I give in to her demands.

Since the cats rule the household I was eventually forced to do their bidding otherwise I feared that the laptop would become a gooey mess, permanently anointed with kitty slobber. I'm still in the infatuation stage. I still store it in the box it came in and that's where it'll go now.

Good night...or rather, good grief I should say, "Good morning."

P.S. Thanks for the help Julie - it works great!

Inside

This Saturday the inspiration for this cartoon turns 95 years old. At the time of this cartoons’ composing, my friend Pat Dix was about 76.

Pat is the mother of Pam (a member of the Council of the Sleepover). She has been a friend of mine since I became an adult, but even before that she was someone special to me.

When I was a child she had, long beautiful black hair that she braided and secured to her head with exotic combs. But she’d let it flow freely down her back or in a single braid in the summer when she was gardening. The summer sun tanned her olive skin to a perfection envied by us teens who’d spend hours slathered in baby oil with sun reflectors made of Reynolds wrap angled at our necks to get just the right distribution of rays.

She worked hard at Oakville Trafalgar Memorial Hospital handling the autoclave in the sterilization unit. Then her refined good taste, sense of style and natural elegance shone through as a sales woman at Birk’s – later to become People’s Credit Jewelers (managed by my uncle Lou). And her sense of adventure, challenge and passion for reading was employed in her position as the Bookmobile lady for the local library. During a time in which many of our mothers stayed at home she worked out of necessity – having been widowed in her 40’s. I was well aware of this and admired her strength and all the things that she could do.

Her home is filled with her artwork. Oil paintings adorn her walls; one of a beautiful, slender, black woman comes to mind as do the many landscapes. Her skills as a craftswoman are displayed on upholstered chairs which she has elaborately embroidered, quilts which cover her beds, picked-thread-work runners and table cloths. I’ve watched her do counted threadwork – in white relief no less, and manage countless bobbins of thread, skills I could never imagine having the patience for in my wildest dreams.

I think we really became friends when Pam was away in other places and I would continue to visit Mrs. Dix, who began insisting I call her Pat and we’d have a coffee and talk about art and life. She includes Coronation Street and the motor sport racing circuit amongst her many interests. She always had time for me, made me feel welcome and appreciated.

The best thing someone can do for me is to teach me a skill and help me perfect it and I am eternally grateful to Pat for teaching me how to knit. For a few years I belonged to various informal weekly knitting groups that met at her home: one was comprised of members of the council and another consisted of my sister-in-law Patti, her sister Maureen, and me.

I’ll always remember Pat and me sitting in her sun room, working on our projects; waiting for Patti and Maureen to arrive. We’d hear their car pull in to her gravel driveway. There would always be a substantial pause before a car door would slam. Then Pat and I would crack up (she’s got a great laugh accompanied by a broad smile that crinkles up the corners of her eyes) at the decibel level increase that occurred as Patti and Maureen chattered to each other on their way to Pat’s door. “Here we go.” Pat would chuckle. Pat’s a low key sort and those evenings would be filled with fevered discussions and much laughter. I’m sure we wore her out on many an occasion but you’d never know it as she always welcomed you in with a smile, every time.

With her love of colour, texture, design and her innate teaching ability, she inspired me to knit; she was surprised at how quickly I picked it up but I know it was due to her inspiration. And for years I have taken my work over to her for her perusal.

So, the cartoon, well it was an actual conversation which I slightly shifted for it was Pat who told me the story of going to a fast food restaurant and having a little “twerp” call her ma’am and how she hated it because it made her feel like some little old lady.

I was thinking to myself, "but, Pat you are" when she continued, “it’s not fair” she said, “being in an ageing body; all young people see when they look at me is wrinkles and grey hair when inside I really feel like I’m still 20. They don’t see the young person inside.”

Just last Christmas when Pam, Glyn and I were having a knitting night at Pat’s I reminded her of that conversation and I asked, “I guess you still feel like you’re 20, eh?”

“No, not 20” she paused for a while, smiled and then chuckled, “probably around 30”.

So Pat from my 18 year-old self to your 30 year-old self.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

And, to everyone else, next time you’re talking to a 90 year old remember to say hi to the 30 year old inside.

(cartoon copyright Nance Thacker 1990)