A Funny Looking Sock Photo

I'm pretty sure my camera is dying.  It's been unwell since I dropped it a while back and the battery door cracked requiring it to be held shut with an elastic band.  Now the display screen flickers and photos often turn out pinkish and with lines like in the one above.  The death of my camera would indeed be a tragedy. It's such an integral part of my life and there is simply no cash to replace it.  Oh dear, oh dear..

Saturday Morning Swifting

I wound up another ball of the Cascade to continue working on the Cardigan of Forever today.  What was supposed to be a quickly knit cardi, ready well in time for spring, is now into its third month.  OK.  I may have cast on another pair of socks in the mean time as well as picked back up an old scarf project to bring to knit night.
Regardless, I have a terrible feeling that the time may stretch even further as doubts about the darn thing fitting properly continue to grow.  I don't want to make any rash decisions so shall charge ahead and get the body off the needles for a fitting before deciding if I have to start over.  Eek.

Some People Are Just Bastards

I mean really.  Who burns down a childrens' playground?  How drunk do you have to be?


This is the castle playground at High Park  Someone set it ablaze in the middle of the night.  I actually smelled the smoke!  I lay in bed last night, with my window open due to the spring temperatures, wondering whose fireplace was going crazy.
When I read the news this morning, I got dressed and walked over there. This is what remains of the castle in which The Daughter used to play so happily. The area is taped off and there is obviously a large investigation taking place.  I hope they catch the bastards.

A Sock Post

Don't you just hate it when people whine on and on on their knit blogs about uncomfortable personal stuff?  How annoying! So boring!
Actually, I'm feeling much better.  Proud of myself even for handling my little crisis. I have amassed an arsenal of tools over the years to deal with my anxiety issues, and I used them to good effect this round.  It was a rough few days but I've come out the other side now.  One of the things that helps is writing about it so thank you dear readers, all three of you, for your indulgence.

Back to knit blogging!  My latest sock project is an old reliable pattern (Hedera from the Spring 2006 Knitty) done in an old reliable yarn (Scheepjeswol Invicta in a gorgeous deep red). This was my second go at Cookie A.'s classic pattern.  It's a great morning commute knit. The four row repeat is easy to memorize yet is interesting enough to keep you motivated. These socks are going to look very cute peeping out the tops of my short boots.

Now I feel like immediately casting on a new sock but I still have a scarf and a cardigan on the needles. What the heck.  You know I will to do it anyway.

Triggered

Trauma is a funny thing.  You can soothe it, throw therapy at it, medicate it.  You can meditate it away. massage it. heal it.  You can get your chakras aligned and chant affirmations.  Ego reinforcements, crayon drawings and power walking.  When the panic comes, you ground those feet firmly to Mother Earth and count the sounds you hear. You do the work, whatever's necessary, and eventually you feel better.  Most days you breathe OK and often you laugh. Sometimes you forget about it altogether.


But it's always there just waiting.  Something happens, years later and it comes right back.  The trigger is pulled.  
Someone was nice to me.  Someone said "I get you", to me yesterday.  A vague feeling of discomfort slowly over 24 hours, turned into abject panic as I realized that I don't want to be "got".  Being so makes me feel vulnerable and that scares the living shit out of me.  I started remembering all sorts of things I've worked really hard to forget and as anyone who's experienced such memories knows, once they start, they don't stop. I cried in public today, something I haven't done in over three years.  I had a hyperventilating anxiety attack on transit and almost had to get off. Thank goodness I had my purple yarn with me and the sun was hitting it just right. Thank goodness there was a good song on the mp3 player to put on repeat.


When I got home, I danced to very loud rock music and cried a whole lot more. After I was tired out, I made and ate three tasty tuna salad sandwiches. Then I wrote an ugly blog entry that I'll not post. Some things are best kept private. I'll  transfer that one to my journal.  Still, today needs expressing so I'm writing this entry instead. Soberly  (yay for sobriety) as I listen over and over to Suzanne Vega sing:


I'll set my house in order now
and wait upon the Will,
It's clear that I need 
better skill at steering.
That line is the horizon.
We watch the wind and set the sails
But save ourselves when all omens
point to fail.


Widow's Walk
Songs in Red and Gray 2001