Tag: Knitting
Categories
Greenpoint
Did you know that I could knit?
Another of my weak tea successes.
When my mentally ill readers are not either reading my blog or taking their anti psychotic pills they may be knitting all alone in their unheated homes.
I can knit!
My grand mother taught me to knit when I was five years old.
I learned how to read a pattern, knit socks, knit Intarsia, knit a sort of free form, improvised Fair Isles technique. I knitted myself an Aran sweater.
I pride myself for knitting intuitively and not having to follow a pattern.
Spent the day at the farmers market. Farmers market folk seem to be very nice people indeed.
Here’s something I knitted earlier:
[wpvideo 74j2U8XU]
Categories
Empty Hook
Calm seas. Usual Suspects. Malibu today. Beginning to take things back there. Who am I writing this blog for? 210,000 unique hits. Probably more now.
The smell of burned coffee in the apartment. Can’t wait to leave this place.
Maybe not so calm. When I write this I start riling myself up. Even when things feel good. It isn’t delivering the peace I used to feel when I used to write it.
It used to be fun to blog but that was before it became an ‘issue’ with him.
I never understood how he could hate it so much? I’m sure that he hates it now..this blog. Why shouldn’t he? As he retreats and I am left up on the mountainside in the ark. The sea retreating, leaving the ark on the side of the mountain. No dove of peace just a little dog.
Michael told me stuff yesterday that I didn’t feel like listening. Would I rather be right or happy? In essence that is what he was saying.
Sunday morning. Helicopters already circling over head.
I think it’s going to be hot today. Hot and dry.
Jennie stopped writing her blog. Perhaps I should stop writing mine. It used to be cathartic. I used to enjoy the validation but of late it feels like all I do is fight the demons..even when there are none.
Deconstructing the apartment. Stacking the art that needs to be sold and I still have more art to hang on every single empty hook. How could one man have amassed so much?
Lunch date tomorrow. Is my heart going to be engaged? Can I be bothered? I seem to know the outcome before I even get there. The script is already written.
There are more creative ways to start the day than indulgently publishing my diary.
New renters arrive today. The penultimate batch before I move back in.
I had a lovely time last night. Dinner with Jane. Duck salad at the Mercantile. The duck was a little over cooked. The little dog ignored the morsel I left for him.
Going to get into the truck and go in minute. Shorts and tee. Little dog. Coffee burned in the pan.
Reading World War Z. It’s about Zombies.
There are more than two positions to take. Happy or sad? I am just here..with more than enough, consoled by faith. Can you believe that I just dragged an almost complete stranger around Europe?