Another show comes to a close.

After a few days' rest and recuperation, I'm still reeling from another wonderful Second Storie weekend. Even though my annual post-Thanksgiving cold had settled in a little harder then usual, and I was a bit achy and fuzzy during the market, I had a great time seeing old friends and making new ones.
I had the pleasure of sharing a table with the darling Elide of Previously. The detail and thought that goes into each vintage-inspired garter and hair pin she makes is awesome and humbling. And getting to chat with her throughout the day, that was pretty awesome, too.
I never seem to get around to take as many pictures as I'd like, and as usual, the weekend was over in a flash. I ran around quickly during some downtime on Sunday taking some shots of the market from afar, and luckily, others have been much better than me at capturing some more detail. Go here, here, here and here for some really great photos and some really, really kind words.

I have a little more recovering to do, and I'm enjoying the lack of urgency. The only things bearing down on me are my eagerness to bake some cookies using the delightful new addition to my kitchen (thank you, Shanna), and the need package up and send off my contributions to the 2010 Holiday Ornament Swap.
Both are enjoyable and just the right pace for a sick, tired gal.


A quick peek

I've been Fair-Isling up a storm lately, and I'm super excited about it. This is a quick little look at some works-in-progress.  I'll have these holiday pillows and ornaments at our upcoming Indie Market, and I can't wait! It's been a while since I've been swept away with Holiday Fever, but I feel it setting, and I'm happy to share!
Keep up with second storie's blog to see what other awesome wares you'll find there next weekend!
In the meantime, I'm super busy preparing for the show. We want it to be just perfect for all of our vendors and friends.
So, I'm off to do some knitting, some sewing, some baking.
Some life.


Autumn in (upstate) New York

With friends up from Brooklyn this weekend, I took a small break to enjoy some autumn. We picked (and ate) many apples on a beautiful, sunny Sunday. And on the way home, we happened upon a soapbox derby. It was a pretty good weekend.



As usual, I find myself right around the corner from our Indie Market and I've hardly noticed the time slipping away. The autumn has come, distracting me with its beautiful blue skies and crunchy walks. B is still away, distracting me with an empty home. Amidst all of this, my needles have remained fairly inactive. Or, I should say, uninspired. Each project and idea I put to them has finished (or not, in many cases) with something lacking. And the passion I usually have to work through the bumps and troubles is hard to find. My heart is elsewhere.
I'm now at a crossroads. Push through and have faith that I will find my missing inspiration? Or admit a small defeat and focus my energies on making a stellar show for the rest of our vendors?
This weekend I will host a couple of houseguests. Old friends who are never short on wisdom, inspiration, and laughter. I look forward to seeing them, however briefly.
And I look forward to a clearer head.


A new dawn, a new day...

I've been feeling a little out of control lately. Affected by change left and right, but none of my own doing. I've just been an unwitting part of the wake.
So, to help myself stay afloat in these choppy waters, I aggressively re-arranged my entire apartment recently. Almost every piece of furniture has a new home, and for many, a new purpose.
We have a kitchen table, again, and I'm so happy for that. I can't wait for B and I to have dinner there. It's small and simple; perfect for us.
And, in a few days, I will acquire a bed for our spare room, which has me giddy. I don't mind sharing a little "studio" space to be able to offer a cozy spot to a guest. Anyone up for a sleepover?
It has been wonderful feeling to wake up in the mornings and start my days in this beautiful, fresh space, and I still get excited to come home in the evenings. It's amazing how a few simple changes to my space have given me a super-charged boost. Rearranging my bedroom was a favorite pastime of mine as a child, and it's reassuring to know the same feelings apply as an adult.
I'm off now to enjoy my space a bit, to bake molasses cookies (to try to convince a friend that not all vegan baked goods are terrible), and to help a good friend's 31st birthday be a little more awesome.
I'm feeling good.


All at the same time.

I've been stuck in a whirlwind. Change has been coming from every direction, and I'm spinning all around. And with H.M. gone, it's all that much more unfamiliar.
But, I found a small bit of peace this afternoon during my lunch break. Work has been anything but calm lately, but a short walk along the wooded path that runs beside an old Erie Canal lock just behind my building offered a bit of respite. The warm breeze was a perfect compliment to the bright sun, and a perfect escape for me.
I love this time of year. There are already a few leaves crunching underfoot, yet quite a few bees are hovering around the still-blooming Queen Anne's lace, just beside bunches of dried and brown blooms. There's so much going on, so much overlapping of life and decay. So much change.

It is a good reminder to me that it's okay that everything is changing. Change keeps balance.

Happy Weekend.


Some bits of happiness.

We took our breakfast to go, and ate in the woods, among the birds and deer.
It was as lovely a way to say goodbye as there is.
Some sunflowers to cheer me up. I'm mesmerized by their spiral centers.
A clean house, a full pantry, wonderful friends, and a head full of ideas and patterns.
I think these next few months will go by quickly.
And happily.


It's Time!

We at Second Storie announced today our Vendor List for 2010's indie market, and we must say, we think it's pretty great!!!
Here's a look at some of our newest vendors, and you can check out the whole awesome list here.

Left to right from top:
Cecelia Hayes, Previously
Humunku, Sweetie Pie Press
Harriot Grace, Paperdoll Woodshop
The Great Lakes, Sara Silvio
Red Prairie Press, Bookhou


Getting By

As H.M. prepares to leave (for 2-3 months), I prepare to be alone in this space of ours. He will be back home in Israel, visiting with family, friends, and hoping for some respite from his blues here.* I hope for the same as I stay here.
I have been spending time in the kitchen. Baking bread, enjoying the meditation of kneading by hand. Using the last of the fresh cherries for a cinnamon-cherry tart, loving the dark stains left on my fingers.
Taking a break from the once-meditative-but-now-grueling baby blanket, I cabled up a sleeve for my new computer. It felt so good to work in thick yarn and marvel at the speed. Next up, some swatching for what I hope to be a new line of items for my etsy shop (what's that? I have an etsy shop? Why, yes, I do. I'd almost forgotten!) and for our second storie} indie market this year. (The announcement of our vendor list will be here tomorrow. It's pretty awesome.)

Today, with the sun and blue skies poking through the white fluffy clouds, I wonder if I will find my enthusiasm again. It's been missing lately. My head has been with me in the kitchen pitting cherries, and with my fingers as I knit, but my heart has been distant. A little hesitant.
Perhaps this is just the emotional equivalent of the calm before the storm. My emotions are still and quiet, knowing that soon there will be a fury of sadness when H.M. leaves.
Today, though, has promise, beginning with fresh bread, toasted with jam, and a cup of tea.

*I should mention that most of what he will be doing back in Israel is work-related, and that he's not going on a 2-3 month vacation without me. I need to keep reminding myself of this.


Grey morning, Bright afternoon

I woke up this morning to grey skies outside the window, and quietness inside. A slow, internal morning.
H.M. and I spent a long time together yesterday, laying in the grass, brushing the tickling ants off from our arms and feet, talking and dreaming about what's to come. We dream of land. Of a horse named Esteban. Of freshly lain eggs. Of fruit trees {and the consequent jars of jam} and an endless garden. Of mountains in the distance. Of a comforting, creaking old house, filled with love beyond the two of us... The more we have this talk, the more real it becomes.
Yet, here I am now, in my tall apartment above a small city, trying to figure out how and when my now and then will connect. And if.

This afternoon's mail brought a lovely, unexpected, and perfect package from a friend who always knows when I need a little sunshine and love. A little dose of reality. And the sun has begun to peak out from the grey clouds.


A little Monday post

My space is filled with intoxicating aromas...
Banana bread, a warm breeze from the river, H.M. home early from work, just-watered herbs, this small city settling into evening, the faint trace of soap transferred from my hands into my yarn as I knit a baby blanket.
It is good.
It is a signal to me that I might, for a time, be on the upswing of feeling sorry for myself. I've decided to put all of those big little things that have taken over me of late onto the back burner. Let it simmer there for a bit, while I focus on some sweeter things, like cinnamon walnut bread, and peanut butter granola bars.
Consider it a conscious turn of direction, towards happy.


After a long weekend.

I would love to be posting pictures along with this post. Pictures of my perfect day yesterday, walking through a creek, sitting and playing and laughing in the waterfalls. Pictures of some fireworks from Sunday night. Pictures of my life that I've been enjoying a bit more lately.
But, as I was frolicking and giggling in the waterfalls with my friend and her daughter, wishing I had grabbed my camera out of my totebag, someone else was doing just that: grabbing my camera out of my totebag.
Yes, I am mad. And sad. And full of fist-shaking disdain and brow-furrowing disappointment for those who have in them the thought to take advantage of such an opportunity.
But, more than all of that, I'm focused on how my friend, without thought, got her Nancy Drew on and ran off to try to catch the robbers. (And how earlier in the day, this same friend came to the rescue of an injured hiker, again, without hesitation.) And how I spent that time letting her daughter paint on me with mud, genuinely laughing, forgetting for a moment or two what was happening. And how Dear Old Sis reminded me that I've wanted to get a better camera anyways, and what a perfect time with my birthday not too far off. And how H.M. has a non-condescending way of reminding me that these things simply happen sometimes, and they can ruin your hour, but shouldn't ruin your day.
So, you who now has my camera, I hope you're enjoying all those pictures of my beautiful Sis, and of my happy weekend with friends and family, if only for a moment before you erase them and move on to take pictures of your own darker life. I will continue to be happy to know that when I am on a walk in the woods and see a totebag resting against a tree and hear laughter around the bend, my thoughts go to how good of a time the owner is having, and never to what I can take from it.
And I'm happy that my friends will always be there to bask in the brighter side with me.



I recently heard some delightful news of my childhood best friend. She's going to be a mother. Though we've really only kept in touch through our parents, I immediately started swatching ideas for a baby blanket. I've settled on a simple seed stitch with a ribbed border, in an oatmeal colored soy-based yarn. Classic.
I'm really looking forward to a few days of simple knitting, freeing my clogged mind for what's to come.
Happy Weekend!


An unsure day, full of sure things.

What is to come? I don't really want to know.
But I could use a little reassurance right now. Just a sneak peek at the future worth of my current patience.

But, instead of impatiently pining for the unknown, I will simply continue my day, continue deciding the simple things. I will make lemonade. I will organize the "to donate" pile of clothes. I will have tea this afternoon, with a movie and a pair of knitting needles. I will decide between artichoke ravioli and leftover Thai food for dinner.

I will stave off restlessness for one more day, knowing that it will all be okay, it just might take a while. I will be patient.


A rainy day post

Plaid Tea Cozies
Vegetable Knitting Patterns
Take the stairs instead of the elevator.
Get up early to go to the Farmer's Market before the crowds.
Have another cup of tea.

You are loved.
It will be okay.


A long time ago...

I started writing in this small space. And, then I stopped.
My curiosities and interests are always waning and waxing, coming and going, ahead and behind. And varied. I've found comfort in measuring, mixing, tasting, baking since I was old enough to stay home without a babysitter, just a big sister. And since the time many years ago that I plowed through the beginning frustrations of knitting and the stitches finally fell into place and my fingers found the rhythm, I've rarely been without at least two projects on pairs of needles scattered about, and one or two more in my head. I'm currently learning what it means to keep houseplants not just alive, but thriving. I've now turned into a nursery of sorts for friend's sick plants. And they do very well here, though I'm sure it's less me than it is the immense windows, and therefore the immense amounts of sunshine.
But throughout these loves, and their many incarnations before, and the many more to come, I've had one constant. My love for words. Of words, in words, about words. It's been so much a part of me that I rarely take notice anymore when I arrange the monotony of my daily motions into grand prose in my mind. Making the mundane beautiful, or the beautiful mundane. Arranging, re-arranging, perfecting the placement and intent of each syllable. Reveling in a particularly striking combination, the words finding a rhythm not uncommon to the rhythm of my fingers as they weave a yarn in and out, up and down.
I rarely write, though. Journals remain half-full, at best. Letters die away before the cover comes off from my typewriter. This space, seeming so perfect to me at the start, remains dusty and unkempt. Neglected.
I do not fancy myself a writer. I do not believe that my story is any more worth telling than any other, probably less. It is the crafting of the verse that holds my heart and mind captive. As it is the pulling of the yarn through a loop that I enjoy most about knitting, not wearing the scarf; the kneading of bread that I love, rarely the tasty treat waiting at the end.
And what to do with this love of process and almost disdain for product? Write about it.