Mea Terra

Fairy Land

2011-09-04T21:56:00.000-04:00

Words.
I'm searching for them
Blindly
In the dark.
Feeling for them
With my fingertips.
The scratch of pen on paper
The texture of keys on my finger pads
The invisible, unfeeling touchpad under my deft hands.
So many
Mediums.
So many ways
To write.
Yet I stumble over the
Words.
My pen fails
The keys stick
My hand forgets the way.
I am blind
And someone has rearranged the furniture.
The
Words
Are all the same.
So many ways to find them
So many ways to become lost.
Don't you know
It is the story
And not how it is told
That matters?
Don't you know the
Words
Are meaningless if they say nothing?
Fairy Land is just
Words.
Of course it is.
What else could it be?
What more could it be?
Merely
Words?
Wherefore "merely"?
This world
Here
Is merely.
Merely sights
And sounds
And smells.
Merely touch.
How "merely"
Words?
What more is there?
Shall I tell you?
There us nothing more.
Nothing greater.
In the beginning was
Words.
Once upon a time there were
Words.
That is all.
That is enough.
One day,
Happily ever after,
There will be
Words.
Not merely
Words.
Just
Words.
Enough
Words.
All
Words.
For that is all there is
Here.
In
Fairy Land.

Injured

2011-08-18T15:50:00.000-04:00

I want to run.

Considering how long I've been a runner, this is actually a rather novel feeling. While I often enjoy my runs once I start them, or feel good after I finish, I rarely want to get up at six, lace up my shoes and head out the door. Instead, I lay in bed a good 10 minutes after my alarm goes off talking myself into getting up and runnig. But now I want to run; and now I can't.

About two weeks ago, I noticed a pain in the big toe of my left foot. Not a sharp pain, but a deep one that xran up my foot a bit whenever I stepped on it. Years of knee problems have taught to run through pain, and since it didn't hurt too bad, and was just my toe, after all, I ignored it. That Saturday, I ran on it. Just a short run, but halfway through my toe had gone numb and lost feeling, like it had fallen asleep. I figured I'd ice it, and give it a few days off. But by a week ago last Thursday, the pain had gotten so bad I was limping. Enough is enough, so I went to a walk-in clinic.

I must have described the pain well to nurse, because the doctor came in and before even examining my foot said I had tendinitis in my foot, common in football players which gives it the name "turf toe". Basically, it's carpal tunnel syndrome all over again, only in my foot. I'm even on the same anti-inflammatory pills. And I'm not allowed to run for at least two weeks. The doctor was a runner himself, so at least he was sympathetic about tn is instead if wanting to know why on earth I would want to get up at 6 and run 10 miles in the first place.

So now I'm taking a forced break from running, and much to my surprise I miss it a lot. With luck I'll be as good as new soon. In the mean tine I'll be swimming laps in my apt. complex's pool, the most boring workout in the world.

Don't be like George

2011-07-18T14:49:00.001-04:00

If I had to pick one picture book from my childhood that sums up my family, it would be Loudmouth George and the Big Race. My little brother and I grew up in a running family, a rather rarer occurrence when we were children than today. So finding a children's book about training for and running a road race was a pleasant surprise.

In the story, George, a rabbit, and his other animal friends are excited when a race is going to be held in their town. But every time a friend asks George if he wants to train, George has an excuse for why he can't, and finishes by saying "I'll start my training tomorrow". I won't ruin the ending for you, though it's pretty much exactly what you think it is.

"Being like George" quickly became an expression in family to mean procrastinating on something. Whenever my brother or said that we would do something later, or tomorrow, we'd get the response, "All right, George". The warning was clear: Procrastinate on this and you will probably dislike the results.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, I'm afraid I've a bit of a George this past week. Helping at my church's Vacation Bible School (outside, chasing small children around for several hours each morning) left me exhausted, and I hit my snooze alarm each morning with the promise that I'd get up earlier tomorrow to run. And then, suddenly, the week was over and I hadn't put in any milage.

So, I'm back on my training schedule this week (10 mile long run!), and back to the pact my running partner and I made when we started training together. No excuses. Don't be like George.

Rain on Bricks

2011-07-14T19:19:00.000-04:00

It rained today.

I actually missed the rainstorm because I was in my office, but when I was leaving the reflection of light in the window caught my eye. The window looks out towards a courtyard surrounded by smooth brick walls, and clinging to the bricks were tiny droplets of water, bouncing light around like a dispersed kaleidoscope.

And it made me think about how we see the world.

The world we see and interact with seem so huge, so solid. Yet if water was really as slippery and formless as it seems, and bricks as smooth and uniform as they feel, then there is no way that water should be able to form itself into tiny spheres and cling to stone. Yet it does.

We see so little of how this world is actually made, never giving much though to the fact that "solid" is only an illusion, that everything is in fact made of minuscule quivering atoms with space between them.

I'm not sure I'm going anywhere with this, but now you know what I think about when I see rain on bricks.

Why Rabbits Are Better Than Dogs

2011-07-07T10:34:00.000-04:00

10. Rabbits wiggle their noses. I'm fairly certain this is the single cutest natural behavior of a domesticated animal.

9. Rabbits don't drool.

8. Rabbits have cute little tails that don't knock things over.

7. Rabbits are too short to get onto your table to steal food.

6. Rabbits (even non-fibre ones) are super soft.

5. Rabbit breath smells like parsley. As opposed to the horrible smell that is dog breath.

4. Rabbits don't roll in smelly things.

3. They can be easily litter trained.

2. Rabbits are much more likely to eat the veggies you don't want than a dog is.

And the number one reason rabbits make better pets than dogs...

1. They don't bark.

Serial Saturday (again)

2011-06-25T15:43:00.000-04:00

Hey, it's Serial Saturday again! Funny how that happens every week, huh? Anyways, if you click on the "Undestined" tab, or here, you can check out the latest entry in my serial story. And I will be trying to post more regularly again here. Sorry for getting off track last week :)

First Loves

2011-06-14T13:29:00.000-04:00

They say you never forget your first love. This has held true in my life, though more when dealing with inanimate things than with romance. For example, while I now love Classical mythology, I'll never forget that it was Egyptian mythology (through the book The Egypt Game) that first introduced me to the genre.

The same holds true with sports. While I no longer hesitate to call myself a runner, the truth is, I would never actually say I love running, and took me a long time to find a sport I did love.

My parents always had one simple rule for my brother and I- we could do whatever activity we wanted, as long as we were doing something active. And I ran the whole gambit of sports. Ballet, gymnastics, basketball, soccer (which I stuck with the longest), softball, swimming (even synchronized swimming one year), volleyball, track, crew, lacrosse (lost interest when I discovered women's lacrosse was way less violent than men's lacrosse)...there aren't many sports I haven't tried. But it wasn't until high school that I discovered fencing.

In fencing, I found a sport where speed and strength had to be matched by strategy and endurance. My height put me at a disadvantage, but I could make up for it by outlasting and out-thinking my opponent. Best of all, I could be as aggressive as I wanted to be without getting carded or flagged (believe it or not, while I'm pretty quiet normally, I'm very aggressive when I play sports- I think I spent more time benched than playing basketball for fouls). Then I went to college and stopped fencing.

Fast forward 6 years. After a year in grad school at a university with a fencing club, I finally got up the courage to contact the group. They invited me to come by for summer practice Thursday night. Still nervous, I made a deal with myself. If my old gear still fit, I would go. Long story short, my gear all still fits (thank you, running!) and I fenced for the first time in several years last week. And I learned something. You really don't forget a first love. As soon as I held my epee again, I remembered everything I'd loved about fencing, and wondered why I'd ever stopped. So, it looks like I'll be adding some cross-training into my running schedule from here on out. :)

Shave and a Harecut

2011-06-06T14:41:00.001-04:00

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a hare.
Fuzzy Wuzzy had lots of hair.

Fuzzy Wuzzy got too hot.
He trimmed his hair a lot.

Fuzzy Wuzzy now looks small,
But he's not hot at all!

Serial Saturday

2011-06-04T11:30:00.000-04:00

It's Saturday, which means a new post is up over at Undestined: A Serial Story. You can use the tab at the top of the page to get there.

Getting Dizzy (From all that Spinning)

2011-06-03T20:29:00.000-04:00

In Monday's post I mentioned I've been spinning a lot, so I though it might be time to give some picture evidence of the fact. All the yarn in the photo is alpaca fibre. The yarn in the upper left was spun on my large spindle (more on my spindles next week) and the yarn on the right was spun on my lace-weight spindle. For comparison, the yarn on the left has a strand crossing a quarter, and the yarn on the right is crossing a nickel. I then plied the two different weight yarns to get the finished skeins you see on the bottom (the coloured yarns tied to them are to keep the skein from getting tangled- I didn't spin those).

So just what am I going to do with all this yarn, since my knitting is now limited? Why weave, of course. On what? Well, my spinning wheel wasn't the only craft project I've worked on this year. More on that later. (by the way, my wheel made an appearance on the popular thereifixedit blog this week. You can see it here).

The yarn in this photo is going to be the weft (or woof), the side-to-side yarn when you weave. Not pictured is some yarn made by plying two of the heavier weight strands together, which will be my warp, the up-and-down yarn. I don't have enough yarn for my project yet, but I'm working on it (when I'm not side-tracked by the lovely silk that's currently filling up my lace-weight spindle). I have time though, since my loom isn't quite finished yet.

Some of Life's Big Questions

2011-06-01T10:27:00.000-04:00

In no particular order.

-Where do toll-booth attendants park?

-Why don't toothbrushes fit the built-in toothbrush holders?

-Why does sitting up and sitting down result in the same final position?

-You can be overwhelmed and underwhelmed- can you be just "whelmed"?

-What is the plural of "Mickey Mouse"? (for example, if there is a store with several Mickey Mouse toys inside)

-How do tomatoes grow in the wild without falling over?

-What are people going to do with all random pictures they take with camera phones?

-Where do all my hair-ties go? (I bought a pack of 100- I now have 5)

-How does sunscreen work?

-Who first looked at a sheep and thought "Hey, bet I could make some nice yarn out of that!"?

-What am I going to make for lunch today?

So Much More Than Yarn

2011-05-30T09:57:00.000-04:00

A little while ago, knitting and I made our break-up official. Consequently, I've been doing a lot of spinning (more on what I've been making on Friday- and yes, that does mean my blog is returning to it's normal posting schedule). I spin with a spindle, which I love, but the problem with spindle spinning is that it can be, well, a bit slow going.

One day, while spinning, I thought, wouldn't it be great to have a self-winding spindle. Then I remember, oh, yes, they do makes those- it's called a wheel. Truth be told, for the past year I've been somewhat obsessed with the idea of getting wheel (I may or may not have made a picture of the wheel I wanted as a desktop picture). Problem is, wheels cost money. A lot of money. Like $300 for a cheap one. And I'm a starving grad student. So I finally came to terms with the fact that I'm going to spindle-spinner for a while.

Then my neighbor started repairing a couple of bicycles. And had to get new wheels for one of them. And left the old wheels sitting on the porch we share. And I started thinking. And sketching. And thinking some more.

Then I went to Lowes. And bought some PVC piping. And some spray paint. And...

I present "Spark" (named inspired by one of my favourite webcomics). It's not finished yet, though since I took this picture I've added a set up for scotch tension, which is how you control the rotation of the bobbin. I still need to figure out a treadle system, however, and may end up using the back wheel of the bike with the chain. But, it does work. And not counting the flyer and bobbin (the complicated looking wooden piece at the top) which I bought, the whole thing cost me less than $10. Can't beat that.

Guess I can be crafty with more than just me needles :)

P.S. Once I have the treadle worked out, I'll be posting directions, if you want to build your own.

Something Old, Something New

2011-05-28T14:04:00.000-04:00

Way back in October, I posted the introduction to a story I was thinking of writing. I originally envisioned it as a short story, but it kept growing in my mind, so now I've decided to try something new. I'm going to be telling the story in weekly installments over at http://undestined-story.blogspot.com. I'm not promising good writing, but it should be fun. If you want to follow along, you can click on the link, or at the top of my blog where it says "Undestined". Since I've already posted part of the introduction here, I went ahead and gave you two posts to start out. Hope you follow along!

I Never Run Alone: My Mom, My Encourager

2011-05-21T16:18:00.001-04:00

A very late Mother's Day post- but then, shouldn't Mother's Day be every day?

My quality time with my Mom is not measured in time spent, but rather miles run, together. I don't think I could even begin to guess how many miles we have covered over the years.

Sometimes think I was born in a baby jogger, because I spent nearly every morning of my childhood in one. My Mom told me when I was a baby she would talk to me while I rode along on her runs; when I was older I would cheer her and my dad up hills, chanting "I think I can, I think I can" while they pushed me in the baby jogger. My elementary school years were spent pedaling alongside of my Mom on my bike, cheering her on, and complaining on the hills (and wondering why I had to ride on the sidewalk while she got to run on the road). I grew up accompanying my Mom on her runs until I was old enough to stay home in the mornings, and after that only joined her on rare occasions.

But it wasn't until I started training for a half marathon last year that I asked my Mom to run with me. I often use running and training as a metaphor for a lot of things in life; it's such a versatile comparison. And it was during those months training with my Mom that I realized how much running with her was a perfect illustration of our relationship.

Not every run was perfect, not every run was great; far from it. Many were rough, felt like they dragged on forever, and made me wonder why on earth I was doing this. But on every run, there was always one thing I could count on. My Mom encouraging me. Whether is was just general cheering ("Come on, Honey, you're doing great!"), bribery ("I'll make eggs for breakfast", "10 more minutes and you can have a Chomp*"), or simple advice ("Imagine the finish line!", "Shorten your stride and eat the hill") my Mom would keep me going, most of all on the days when I wanted to quit.

I learned a lot from my Mom on our training runs, tricks and sayings that I pass on to my running friends. But most of all, I learned that I never run alone: every time I lace up my shoes and head out the door, my Mom is there in my mind, encouraging me and cheering me on.

Things I’ve learned about running (and life!) from my Mom:

- -Walking up a hill is a waste of perfectly good hill

- -You can do anything for 3-minutes (on interval training)

- - Use your arms

- - Relax

- - Eat the hill

- - Stay strong through the finish

- - Imagine the finish line

- - If you say you’re doing great enough times, you’ll believe it

- - Wear earrings. There’s almost always a photographer on the course.

- - Take walk breaks, but don’t stop moving forward

- - Remember to breathe

- - Once you cross the finish line, no one can take that away from you

- - Drink a big glass of water and eat a banana

- - You’ll always feel better after a run

- - Always untie your shoes before taking them off

- - Everything is better with a friend by your side

- - You can run further and faster than you think you can

*My on-the-run nutrition choice

It Started With a Car Trip

2011-05-04T13:51:00.000-04:00

Over the years, running the Lady Track Shack 5k has become a bit of a tradition for my family. So, way back in February, I started to make plans to drive down to Orlando to run it. The Wednesday of LTS week my friend Jules asked me what my weekend plans were. I told her, then, on a whim, said "hey, want to come and run with me?" She said yes (having never been to Orlando), and we made plans for me to pick her up on Friday.

On Friday, in between listening to How to Train Your Dragon on tape read by David Tennant (I'm pretty sure I would enjoy listening to David Tennant read the phone book), we talked about our previous running experiences- Jules had run cross-country, and I have two half-marathons under my belt.

Wouldn't it be great, we both said, if we had a goal to train for. We could start running together to get into shape. And then Jules, being from Michigan, said "You know, there's a half-marathon in Detroit that runs through both the US and Canada".

And that is how we ended up registered for the Detroit 1/2 marathon.

I blame David Tennant.

'Twas the Night Before Easter (re-posted)

2011-04-23T15:10:00.002-04:00

‘Twas the night before Easter; I thought it a poor lot,

That Christmas should have a poem, while Easter did not.

So I took up some paper and took up a pen,

And set about writing that I might make amends.

I wondered ‘bout the difference ‘twixt the Holidays,

That one was quiet, and the other a mad craze.

Santa has stockings, and wild preparations;

Easter is greeted with a few decorations.

At Christmas the presents are stacked under the trees,

You’re able to find them and open them with ease.

At Easter there are eggs hidden out in the yard,

For just a little candy you search pretty hard.

But surely Christmas and Easter are about more

Than just Santa and Bunnies and other such lore.

Surely I can find out some deep hidden reason,

To explain the difference between the two seasons.

In the dark of Winter, Christmas promises Life,

A season of hope amidst a season of strife.

And along with the advent of the Savior’s birth,

Comes tidings of peace, of goodwill, joy, and of mirth.

Easter is in the Spring when all the world flowers,

A time to rejoice in the Life that is ours.

And when the dark Death of Winter is left behind,

A new kind of rebirth is promised to mankind.

For though Christmas starts with birth, there is Death to come;

In the end it’s Easter that is Death overcome.

For the Life of Christmas lasts for just a short time,

But the Life that Easter brings is forever thine.

So while the Christmas celebration can be wild,

Leaving Easter, in contrast, to seem rather mild,

I believe that I can say without any doubt,

Easter, my friend, is what Christmas is all about.

A Story For Good Friday (reposted)

2011-04-22T14:44:00.002-04:00

Many of you have seen this already, but I always feel compelled to share this around Easter.

The Prisoner

The prisoner lay on his back, a thin pallet of straw the only thing separating him from the cold stone floor of his cell. The first rays of sunlight were filtering in through the tiny barred window near the ceiling, and as he watched, the rays began to travel across the small room. Determinedly, he shut his eyes, trying to fall back asleep. It had been a restless night. Instead of quiet, the night had been filled with the shouts and the comings and goings of travelers. Had he wanted to, he could have dragged the bed to one of the dark corners the sun didn’t reach, but already the sounds of people beginning the day’s work interrupted the sleepy stillness of the morning.

Resigning to the fact that his sleep was indeed over, the prisoner opened his eyes, revealing the ceiling, who’s every inch had been under his scrutiny the past few days. When first arrested, he had spent his days walking the perimeter of his cell, but that had only served to remind him how small it really was. Soon the prisoner had discovered that by lying still on his mat he could allow his mind to wander outside the constraints of the cell and join the hustle and bustle of the city outside. Today though, the sounds were different. There was a concentration of sound just a little ways away from the prison, and he could hear the sound growing. People were gathering for something.

Allowing his mind to wander, he began to imagine what could be going on outside. Was it some Roman spectacle? Acrobats perhaps? Gladiators? While he pictured the carnival-like scene, the sounds grew louder, then suddenly stopped. Straining his ears, the prisoner could just make out a low mumbling of voices, which the whole crowd seemed to be listening to. Was this a play then? But what an odd place for one, next to the jail. The voices stopped and once again the people in the crowd began to talk amongst themselves. Despite his best efforts, the prisoner was unable to make out the topic of all the excitement.

Once again, the dull roar of the crowd stopped and the two voices resumed. This happened several more times. And as the prisoner listened, the crowd grew more and more agitated. Finally, the crowd became quiet once again and he could just barely make out a single voice talking. Then, a roaring wave of sound built up, startling the prisoner into a sitting position. They were shouting his name. His name. What on earth had happened that this giant crowd was talking about him? What could this possibly mean? It had been weeks since his trial, and since then the only people who ever thought of him were the guards who brought his food.

The prisoner stiffened as the crowd once again fell silent. What were they talking about? The bright carnival images were far from his mind now that he had discovered that he was the topic of all this discussion. He strained his ears, desperate to learn what was happening. Once again he could hear the lone voice speaking, followed by the shouting of the crowd. It started as a jumble of voices, but quickly formed itself into a chant which froze the prisoner’s blood. Crucify him. They shouted. Crucify him.

Overwhelmed by the sound, he curled into a ball, pressing his hands against his ears. The chanting subsided, but the shouts didn’t. People continued running back and forth and strange sounds echoed off the walls of the cell. The prisoner was ignorant of it all, caught up as he was in thoughts of his fate. He just couldn’t understand it. Of course, he had known what his punishment was to be. Even before the verdict had been given he had known. A man was only brought before the Roman court for one reason. He had no confusion about that. No. What he couldn’t understand was the anger. Where had the crowd been during his trail? There had been no shouting or chanting. The only one who had felt any real feelings about the trial had been the prisoner himself. So where had this crowd come from? Why did everyone suddenly want to see him dead?

His thoughts were abruptly driven from his mind at the sound of keys in the lock. His muscles grew rigid as he curled up even smaller. Death, he thought, he might be ready for. But not this. The angry chant of the crowd had seared itself to his brain. He knew he couldn’t face the mob that was waiting for him. He resisted the tug of the soldier trying to pull him up and found himself begging. “Please. Please. No.” The soldier jerked him impatiently.

“Aren’t you listening? You’re free!” The prisoner stared at the soldier in disbelief, and then looked at the open door of the cell. He made a split second decision and sprinted out of the prison and into the street.

He didn’t get very far. As soon as he got onto the streets, the prisoner was swept up by the pressing crowd. At first, he was terrified. What would the crowd do to him? But to his surprise, they ignored him. Not wanting to press his luck, he followed along, trying to blend into the parade of people making their way towards Golgatha. As he joined the crowd, he wondered if he was really doing the smartest thing. After all, he was walking directly towards the place the angry mob had wanted to drag him just a few hours ago. Even as he thought of changing his mind, it was too late. The press of the crowd had dragged him forward and there was no fighting against it.

As they reached the hill, the prisoner froze, causing the people behind him to stumble into each other to avoid knocking him and one another down. Still the prisoner did not move, transfixed by the sight before him. A man was being crucified. As he watched the man’s hands being nailed to the cross, he could feel the pain in his own hands. The cross was raised and he watched as people threw themselves forward, crying and clutching at their clothes. Sinking to his knees, the prisoner joined them, his fists crushed so tight that blood oozed out from between his fingers. He didn’t understand what was going on, who this man was or how he had ended up on the cross. But there was one thing he did know. That man on the cross was the wrong one. The cross on the hill had been built for him. Someone had made a mistake and crucified the wrong man. Tears filled the eyes of the prisoner, and he wept for the man who was being punished in his stead.

Late that night, even after the man was taken down from the cross, the prisoner

was still kneeling in the field. There had been a sign above the man, one the prisoner couldn’t understand. It had read King of the Jews. What sort of king was this? The Jewish people were under the rule of the Roman Empire. Who was this man who had been punished so severely? Was he truly a king? And from what kingdom? As the first rays of light filled the morning sky, the prisoner arose from the ground, stretching muscles sore from kneeling so long. As he walked down the hill, the prisoner made up his mind. Somehow, he would find the family of this man and explain to them what had happened. About the mistake that had been made. And he would ask them for forgiveness.

Matthew 37:20-23 NRSV, emphasis added

²⁰Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. ²¹The governor again said to them, ‘Which of the two do you want me to release for you?’ And they said, ‘Barabbas.’ ²²Pilate said to them, ‘Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?’ All of them said, ‘Let him be crucified!’ ²³Then he asked, ‘Why, what evil has he done?’ But they shouted all the more, ‘Let him be crucified!

Dear Knitting, I'm Sorry

2011-04-11T10:47:00.000-04:00

My Dearest Knitting,

You know you have been the one true love of my life these past 5 years. You have seen me through my ups and downs, kept me sane when I felt the world was falling apart, and introduced me to some of my closest friends. But, Knitting, you hurt me.

Because of you, I found myself no longer able to type or write without pain. And though it hurt me to do so, I knew we had to put our relationship on hold while I learned to cope with the pain you caused. But I found that without you, I had a hole in my life. Who would relieve my tension after a stressful day? Who would watch TV with me and never complain about the show, even if it was the same episode of Doctor Who for the fourth time? Without you, I was lost, but with you I was in pain. I had to seek comfort elsewhere.

I knew, of course, that you'd been aware of Spinning for some time. Though neither of us said anything, I knew you noticed when I left you alone and picked up my spindle. But you and I both always knew that it was you alone I loved, and no matter how long I abandoned you, I would always return. Yet after you hurt me, that began to change.

I needed something to fill the hole you'd left, and there, in my darkest hour, was Spinning, patiently waiting for me. I always intended to come back to you, my dearest Knitting, I truly did. I just needed time to heal. Yet, as they say, "once bitten, twice shy", and now I find that whenever we spend time together, if I have the slightest reminder of the pain you caused, I have to once again leave you alone. And there is Spinning, always waiting for me.

So, my dearest, beloved Knitting, I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but you hurt me first. You will always have a special place in my heart. We've shared so much, and it was you, after all, who introduced me to the wonderful world of Fibre. I beg you to understand, and to find it your heart to forgive me, but from now on, we will just be friends.

I will always love you, and am not abandoning you. We can still spend time together, just not as much as before. You can never be fully replaced in my life, but Spinning has never hurt me, and so I see now that it is time to move on.

With Love,

Emma

Today.

2011-03-10T09:43:00.000-05:00

Today, the sun is shining.
Today, I will do the work that needs doing, but not stress about it.
Today, I will appreciate the little things.
Today, I am the most important thing in the universe. I rejoice.
Today, I am the least important thing in the universe. I rejoice.
Today, I will count my blessings.
Today, I will rejoice in my sorrows.
Today, I will remember to love.
Today, I am going to live in the moment. And
Today, tomorrow will just have to wait until tomorrow, because
Today is enough.

Signs You Are in Graduate School

2011-02-28T19:13:00.000-05:00

1. You accidentally refer to your office as your dorm.

2. You take your biggest reusable bag to the library.

3. You have to take multiple trips to the library because you can't carry all your books at once.

4. You're response to "How are you?" Is always either "busy", "tired", or, to a fellow grad student, "You know".

5. You regularly start sentences with "I was reading Aristotle last night..." and don't think its odd.

6. When you mention reading a book, you clarify if you're reading it in English. Otherwise, its assumed you're reading it in the original language.

7. You're starting to shower in the gym as often as you do at home (only time to run is before/in-between classes).

8. Your spring break plans primarily involve writing three papers.

9. You only go to parties that involve spending the first half of the evening studying.

10. And finally, you've learned that there is only one way to write a paper:

P.S. That's cranberry juice in the picture. Honest.

On the Origins of Writing

2011-01-19T12:15:00.001-05:00

I'm taking a class on the development of writing in Greece and Italy this semester, and recently we looked at several examples of ancient theories on how writing starting. One particularly intrigued me- Hyginus tells a story that the Fates were the first to write- they created the vowels and the letters B and T. Why the vowels and those letters? It seemed to me that those would the sounds used in singing. That, coupled with the fact that many early writing examples are found on weaving implements led me to create the following myth. After the myth is the excerpt from Hyginus that inspired it.

The women of Kercis’* town, like all women, sang as the worked. They sang as they drew the wool into strands, sang as the spun the strands into yarn, and sang as they wove the yarn into cloth. And the songs they sang were all the same. As they shared their work, they shared their music.

But when it came time for Kercis to marry, she did not marry a man from her town, but from another, and when she went to live him, she found she did not know the songs of the women there. And so she would work by herself, singing the songs of her town, while the other women sang their own.

It was a long time before Kercis learned the songs of the other women, and joined them in their work and singing, and she wondered what would happen if she had a daughter who married a man from another town. For it was a lonely thing to work and sing on your own.

So, one night, Kercis prayed to Athena. “Oh goddess,” she said, “You who gave us the loom and taught us to weave, you have given all women one work, and yet we have many songs. Should we not all sing together, even as we all labour at the same task?” And though Athena did not answer her that night, she heard the prayer, and wondered at it, for it troubled her.

Sometime later, when the moon was thin in the sky, Hermes came to Kercis one night. “Athena heard your prayer,” he told her. “It troubled her, and so she has sent me to take you to the Fates, for it is they who first made songs while at their work”. He offered her his hand, and Kercis took it, picking up her spindle as she did so, for a woman’s work is never done.

Hermes flew with Kercis to where the Fates lived, and Kercis heard them singing. Clotho sang as she spun the threads of lives, Lachesis sang as she measured the threads, and Atropos sang as she cut them. And all three of them sang the same song.

As Kercis walked towards them, the fates looked up from their work, their singing ceased, and they spoke. “What is it you have come to ask?”

“I have come to learn the song you sing, so that I might teach it to the other women, so we may all sing the same song while we work. For we share in one work; should we not share in one song?” This was Kercis’ reply.

The Fates answered her, “We shall teach you our song, and more than that, though you did not ask. We shall teach you shapes that mark the sounds of our song, so that you might teach women our song even when you are not near them.”

Then the Fates took Kercis’ spindle, and on the shaft they scratched shapes, and taught her which shape was for which sound, and how to sing their song.

So Kercis took her spindle back to the women she worked with, and she taught them the song and shapes. And those women taught other women, who taught other women, until all the women who worked at the loom sang the same song and knew the shapes the Fates had taught Kercis.

And one day, much later, a man named Palamedes, who was more observant than most, noticed that all the women, even those in different towns, sang the same song while they worked. And when he asked his wife about this, she showed him the shapes that made up the song, and explained how by learning the shapes, women all over the land had learned the song.

Palamedes was very taken by this idea, so he made up shapes for the sounds that weren’t in the song, and taught them to men, that they too might teach one other even when far apart.

And so it happened that while men will say it was they who made the alphabet, we who weave, we women, we know the truth.

*Greek for "spindle"

Hyginus, Fabulae 277
Transl. Mary Grant
Source: http://www.theoi.com/Text/HyginusFabulae5.html

The Parcae, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos invented seven Greek letters - A B H T I Y. Others say that Mercury invented them from the flight of cranes, which, when they fly, form letters. Palamedes, too, son of Nauplius, invented eleven letters; Simonides, too, invented four letters – Ó E Z PH; Epicharmus of Sicily, two - P and PS.  The Greek letters Mercury is said to have brought to Egypt, and from Egypt Cadmus took them to Greece. Cadmus in exile from Arcadia, took them to Italy, and his mother Carmenta changed them to Latin to the number of 15. Apollo on the lyre added the rest.

The Coffee Chronicles: Day Four

2011-01-15T16:53:00.001-05:00

No, I haven't already given up on trying to like coffee. I've simply come to the conclusion that I don't have the time to make a cup of coffee and blog about it every day. Instead, I'll just be conducting my coffee experiment on weekends.

In other news, several people on Facebook have weighed in on things they think I should try putting coffee, so I'm going to start using their's (and any else's I might get) suggestions. So far, it's been suggested I try:

Honey
Molasses
Vanilla soymilk
cinnamon
hot chocolate mix
vanilla/almond extract
Salt (apparently this will cut the bitterness)

Also suggested: Drinking coffee after a rich chocolate desert.

I'm going to be trying these suggestions one-by-one. What else would you like to see me try in my coffee?

Day Four:

Mixture: Sprinkle of salt in the filter, 1/3 milk, 2/3 coffee, level tbl.sp. of sugar

Results: For science's sake, I took of sip of the coffee before adding sugar, expecting it to be salty. To my surprise, not only wasn't it not salty, but it really was less bitter! Consequently, I was able to add a little less sugar than usual. I still didn't love the drink, but it wasn't a trail to finish it. I think even as experiment with other things, I'm going to continue to leave the salt in.

The Coffee Chronicles: Day Three

2011-01-09T21:48:00.000-05:00

For years now, I have carried a heavy burden. I tried to ignore it, to pretend it wasn’t there. I tried compensating for it and excusing it away. But now it’s time to come clean. I don’t like coffee. I love the smell of it, but I can’t stand the taste. And now, after years of asking for a cup of tea after dinner, or simply doing without, I’ve decided it’s time I learn to like coffee.

The motivation came in the form of a gift. A bag of coffee beans given to me just before Christmas. As I accepted the beans, I decided then and there I was going to learn to like coffee. So now, I invite you to join me on my journey to learn to appreciate this American breakfast staple.

Mixture: Same as Yesterday.

Results: Drinkable, but not enjoyable. I've recently gotten some feedback on Facebook about my coffee experiment, so tomorrow I'm going to start changing up the ingredients I use.

The Coffee Chronicles: Day Two

2011-01-08T13:19:00.000-05:00

Day Two:

I slept in this morning, then slowly went about setting up for my next cup of coffee. I poured 1/3 a cup of milk, then warmed it up in the microwave for a few seconds while the coffee brewed. The coffee was just starting to brew when I remembered...the Farmer's Market! I had to go pick up my CSA this morning! I stuck my cup of milk in the fridge, then dressed while the coffee finished brewing. I turned off the coffee maker, and rushed out the door.

When I got back, I finished making my cup of coffee, warmed it up in the microwave, and sat down to blog about it.

Mixture Ingredients: 1/3 milk, 2/3 coffee, 1 tblsp. sugar

Results: Palatable. Which is to say I didn't feel the urge to spit it out. I didn't particularly enjoy it, but I was able to drink the whole cup. No use messing with a good (or at least, acceptable) thing, so I'm going to stick to this combo for a few days and see if it grows on me.

The Coffee Chronicles: Day One

2011-01-08T01:06:00.001-05:00

Day One:

10:00 a.m. I opened the four –cup Mr. Coffee coffee maker I bought over break, set it up, and ran it through one empty cycle to clean, as per the directions. Then I realized I didn’t have any filters.

10:30 Went to Publix to buy coffee filters and several other items I needed.

11:30 Cleaned and set up the coffee bean grinder I bought over break.

11:45 Ground a cup of coffee beans

11:50 Pressed the ‘on’ switch and watched in anticipation as the first cup of coffee I’ve ever made started to brew.

*Mixture Ingredients: 2/3 milk, 1/3 coffee, 3/4 tblsp. Sugar (which I figure is still way less than a Starbuck Carmel Macchiato)

* Measurements are estimated

Results: Ummm….gross. I only managed to drink about ½ the mixture, and almost spit it back out. The main problem, I think, was too much milk. The milk cooled the coffee down to room temperature (ick) and tasted, well, like milk, another beverage I don’t really like the taste of. Tomorrow I’ll try less milk and more sugar. The ultimate goal is to drink the coffee straight, or with just a little milk, without wanting to spit it out.

Inevitable

2011-01-07T16:19:00.000-05:00

Video camera + Bunny rabbit= Hazel the Spy Rabbit investigating my parents' garage. And this totally counts as a Fibre Friday post because Hazel is a fibre source.

Dear Electric Blanket...

2011-01-05T20:21:00.000-05:00

Dear Electric Blanket,

Although a friend of mine had been propounding your virtues for some time now, I must admit I was dubious. To me, you were the thick, strangely textured, stiff object I used to occasionally see at people's house. In my mind, you resembled not so much a blanket as a tarp. You were also a potentially frightening object, running the risk of overheating and shorting out. My dear Electric Blanket, I apologize for my prejudices. I had not realized how much you had changed.

First, I must praise your softness. Your micro-fibre covering makes you the softest blanket I own. The wires that allow you to become so gloriously warm are so thin I scarcely notice them. Then there is your warmth. Even on the coldest nights I can now sleep without socks on. With you on my bed, I fear neither cold nor shivers. In the cocoon of your warmth, I sleep comfortably and soundly. Oh, Electric Blanket, I am sorry I ever doubted you.

Even my fears of your danger have been assuaged, and I sleep securely knowing you have an automatic cut-off switch should you overheat, be left on too long, or short out. You have come far, Electric Blanket, and I am grateful.

And now, as I right this, I can feel the cold seeping into my feet. So I shall leave my computer 'till the morning, and retreat now to your warm embrace.

Forever yours,
Emma

Precedents

2011-01-04T19:55:00.000-05:00

Even more important than goals and resolution, I think, are New Year Precedents. These are the things you do in first week of the New Year to set the tone for the rest of the year.

My Precedents so far:

1. Held a fun get together at my cleaned AND organized house New Year's Eve.

2. Hung out with my former college roommates on New Year's Day.

3. Spent Monday (last day before classes started) at the beach with my good friends here.

4. Bought a bike pump, lights, and rode my bike to school today! (Don't ask why I brought a bike and not a pump to school with me)

5. Made and ate a real breakfast (I know, this is important, but I tend to not do it)

6. Bought a coffee maker (Another New Year's Goal- learn to like coffee)

7. Contemplated going for a run- and then decided that a six mile bike ride was good enough (I will go running this week, though)

8. Finally let go of my dream of marrying David Tennant (but only because he got engaged)

9. Got up before 10, even though my first class wasn't until 3:35

10. And blogged!

New Year's Goals

2010-12-31T11:39:00.000-05:00

I've decided to try something new this year. I've decided not to make any New Year's Resolutions, but rather New Year's Goals. There's something so final, so do-or-die about resolutions, that they become something to stress over, rather than something to help you prepare for the next year of life.

Goals, on the other hand, are something to aim for, something to work towards. They aren't absolute- they acknowledge that sometimes you just can't do everything. And that's okay. So here are my goals for the upcoming year:

Academic Goals:

Attend a conference

Improve my Greek and Latin

Better my time management and study skills

Health and Fitness Goals:

Train for and run a 1/2 marathon (Disneyland? Never been to California)

Learn to eat better when eating out/at parties

Start doing some cross-training besides running

Look into joining the fencing club at my school

Knitting Goals:

3 stockings (okay- these are non-optional)

A Ravenclaw scarf for a friend

Not to knit any socks (That's one I shouldn't have a problem with)

A pair of glittens (Cut-off gloves with a fold-over top to make them mittens)

The sweater I bought yarn for last year

Start a Doctor Who Scarf (Someone stop me, please!)

Other Fibre Goals:

Finish spinning and plying my alpaca fibre

Spin something with Hazel's fibre

Build a warp-weighted loom

Learn to dye

Get a spinning wheel (Donations towards this goal are accepted ;) )

General Goals:

Keep my house both clean and organized (yes, there is a distinction- I can do clean pretty well.

Organized is a whole other kettle of fish)

Balance work and play

Stick to my daily Bible readings

Blog regularly (and actually get people to comment on my blog)

What are your goals and/or resolutions for next year?

Holiday Wishes (From the Tortoise and the Hare...okay, Turtle and Rabbit)

2010-12-13T17:24:00.001-05:00

As a thank you to all of you for reading my blog (and even checking it on days I forget to post), this is a special post just for you*.

Take time to enjoy the season...

And have a Hoppy Holiday!

*No animals were harmed in the making of this post. Nor was any photoshopping involved. Really.

Symptoms of Exam Week

2010-12-06T13:31:00.000-05:00

1. It has been so long since you did dishes that you are now eating and drinking out of coffee cups.

2. You are actually concerned about what you will do when the coffee cups run out. (and as you type this are wondering if they can properly be called "coffee cups" if they are not, in fact, being used for coffee or as cups)

3. "Study Breaks" are only for necessities such as eating and sleeping. And those are, to a degree, optional.

4. The highlight of your weekend was discovering that you had the Loeb of Plato's Gorgias and thus didn't have to go to the library to get a copy of it in Greek.

5. Your rabbit is eating better than you.

6. Your response to every inquiry is "after finals".

7. The idea of "after finals" has reached a position of religious reverence.

8. You have no idea what happened to the rest of the semester, or what you did to deserve this.

9. The idea of a 9-5 job is actually starting to have some appeal.

10. You missed your Friday blog post because you didn't realize it was Friday.

Bunny Pictures!

2010-12-01T19:21:00.000-05:00

I had to write a paper today, and don't feel much like writing anything else. So, in the meantime, enjoy these pictures of Hazel.

P.S. I promise my blog won't be all about my bunny from here on out.

P.P.S. I posted one of these pictures on Facebook and received several questions about his actual size, and his breed. Hazel is an American Fuzzy Lop, and weighs about 4 pounds. He's on the small size of the rabbit spectrum (excluding dwarfs), but looks must bigger thanks to his long, fluffy fur.

P.P.P.S. Sorry the angles on the photos look odd. I took them with my webcam.

Bunny!

2010-11-29T09:52:00.000-05:00

Today I want to tell you about a book. The book is called "Watership Down" and is written by Richard Adams. It is, on the surface, a book about rabbits, but is really about different forms of government. I've read it twice, and enjoyed it both times, especially the mythology Adams created for the rabbits. (An aside to apologize to anyone who may have watched the cartoon version of the book and was traumatized by the sight of rabbits fighting each other. This book was NOT meant to be made into an animated children's' movie)

I mention this book because I'm starting to suspect that I and my Nanna are the only two people who have read it. The main character of the story is a male rabbit named Hazel. Male. Rabbit. Hazel. I feel obligated to stress this point because I have adopted a male rabbit and named him Hazel. This has prompted several people to ask me if isn't Hazel a girl name.

He is, quite possibly, the fuzziest rabbit in the world. I will try to post pictures later this week, but don't have time to mess with my camera at the moment. In the meantime, imagine a giant, fluffy cotton ball. Now imagine a slightly smaller cotton ball sitting on top of that one, with a grey nose, and two grey ears. That's what he looks like.

He is very friendly, and immensely curious about everything that goes on around him. I imagine you all will be hearing a lot about him on this blog.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! My was fun, with lots of family, friends, and food.

I am Thankful for... (Part 3)

2010-11-24T08:17:00.000-05:00

...Being back in school.

I think I occasionally overlook how blessed I am to be in school right now, probably in part becuase being-in-school has been my general state of being for most of life.

But to be able to spend my time and energy studying the things I love is something I'm truly grateful for. While I sometimes get overwhelmed when I think about the years of schooling between now and where I want to be, while I sometimes feel like I'm doing the most selfish thing in the world by going to school and studying past cultures, and while I sometimes wish for the stability of a "real" job and home, I wouldn't trade the opputunity I have for anything.

I'm here in graduate school becuase of the support and aid of my parents, teachers, and friends, and I never want to forget that.

So now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for my Latin class. Today is a "fun" day, so we'll be translating from the first Harry Potter book, which has been translated into Latin.

(I'm also thankful that someone has bothered to translate Harry Potter into Latin)

I am Thankful for... (Part 2)

2010-11-23T11:57:00.000-05:00

...the church and friends I've found since I moved.

When I moved off to graduate school, I was excited, but also nervous. I don't make friends easily, and I didn't want to spend two years alone with my books.

So one of my first priorities after I moved was to find a home church. I was expecting to have to do some church shopping, so my first Sunday here I went to the closest church to my house- it was walking distance. When I arrived, I was immediately welcomed and greeted as a visitor. People seemed genuinely happy I had come. All the pastors came up and introduced themselves to me, and then the sermon was about faith being like a marathon. I decided to come back the next week.

The next week, one of the pastors came up to say hello again, and ask me what I was studying. I said "Classics". The pastor started to ask me if I knew... But before he could finish, the person in the pew in front of me turned around, and it was Rachel, a fellow Classics student whom I'd already met when we discovered a shared interest in spinning.

The church has now become my home church, I'm involved in the Young Adult's Group, and play handbells. And through that church, I've made many friends here.

I truly feel at home here now, thanks in no small part to my church and friends.

I am Thankful for... (Part 1)

2010-11-22T09:23:00.000-05:00

In honour of Thanksgiving, I will be sharing what I am thankful for this week.

I am thankful for...

Being able to Knit

You often don't appriciate the things you have until you lose them. For example, I never really gave to much thought about my wrists. Oh, I probably noticed them a little more than most people, since I was percussionist in Middle and High school, and a Knitter ever since then. My wrists were the tools of my trade. But I never realy stopped to think how much stress I was putting them through, or how wonderful it was that they worked without pain.

Then I got carpal tunnel syndrom. And suddenly, I was acutely aware of my wrists. It started as small twinges of pain when I typed or knitted, then grew to where I could barely move them without pain. I went to the doctor's, got put on prescription NSAIDs for a short period of time, worked and slept in wrist braces, constantly dunked my arms in ice water, and prayed I wouldn't have to have surgery.

Well, I'm still sleeping in wrist braces, and I still ice regularily, but it looks like I no longer have to worry about surgery. You see, I'm typing this post right now without any pain. Typing! With no pain! A month ago, this would have seemed like an impossibilty. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to do every day things without pain.

But best of, Saturday night I was able to knit for a whole hour without any pain. There's not enough time for me to catch up and knit all the Christmas gifts I'd wanted to, but I can knit again.

And for that, I am grateful.

I'm Not Dead....

2010-11-19T09:17:00.000-05:00

...just in case you were wondering.

As classes are winding down towards the end of the semester, life has gotten a bit crazy. I have exams and essays to grade, and exams and essays of my own to study for and write. And I decided that one way to make time for it all was to not blog for a while. I have, however, discovered that not blogging actually made me less productive.

Blogging is my way of staying accountable to myself. It forces me to stop and think about my day, and then lets me use some of my pent-up creative juices as I relay it in what I hope is an interesting way. Also, I've realized that once I decide it's okay to cut one thing from my regular routine, I start to cut others. Let me illustrate (with some hyperbole):

1. I need more time to do work so I cut blogging...and promptly decide this actually means I now have more time to sleep in.

2. I start sleeping in and consequently don't get on campus in time to get a good parking spot, so I end up spending more time walking to class than getting work done in the morning.

3. Because I lost time walking to class, I decide to skip washing my dishes one night. Then another...then another...then another. And before long I have more dirty dishes than can fit in my drying rack, so I have to wash and dry several loads of them in one day.

4. To make up for the time lost washing dishes, I don't put my clean laundry away, but just stack it on my bed, which means I have to move it every night to go to sleep which takes up even more time...

and so on and so on. All because I stopped blogging.

Morale: Blog regularly, or be caught in a never-ending down-ward spiral of irresponsibility.

P.S. I found a spider's web between my yoga mat and my wall yesterday. I think think this is more a testament to my exercise habits than my cleaning abilities.

P.P.S. I've decided to let the spider stay, as long as he eats bugs.

My Mid-Week Adventure

2010-10-27T09:47:00.000-04:00

Today, I'd like to tell you about my Wednesdays.

Wednesday, as we all know, represents the mid-point in the work week. Back when I was in grade school, we had "Wonderful Wednesday"- which meant school ended an hour earlier on that day. I've also been told that my Alma Mater, Mercer, used to have their own version of Wonderful Wednesday, and that Wednesdays used to not have any classes. There is, I think, a good reasoning behind these practices, which is that come Wednesday, you need a little extra time to recover for the first 1/2 of the week, and a little extra time to prepare for the next 1/2.

Ever Wednesday my alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m., like it does every weekday. And every Wednesday, I roll over and reset it for 6:30 a.m., like I do every weekday. But when it goes off the second the time, after struggling to consciousness, I remind myself that my class isn't until 11:15, and that as long as I'm on campus before 8:30, I can usually find a good parking place. Besides, I'm tired from staying up late Monday and Tuesday to finish work, and have everything finished for class that needs to be. So I reset my alarm for 7:00, and go back to sleep.

I get up when my alarm goes off at 7:00, and begin to slowly make my preparations for the day; brush teeth, get dressed, then head into the kitchen to make breakfast. At this point, it's usually around 7:15. As I walk towards the kitchen, there's something nagging me in the back of my mind. Something I've forgot. Then it hits me.

Monday and Friday, my first class is at 11:15. But on Wednesday, I have a once-weekly class that meets at 8:00. And today is WEDNESDAY!

I instantly become a flurry of activity, grabbing notebooks and stuffing them in my bag, searching for my reading glasses, packing up my computer, and reassuring myself that I can grab a granola bar from my kitchen on the way out for breakfast. I get everything packed, fill my water bottle, decide I can go one day a week without makeup for the sake of arriving on time, and rush out the door. I make it to school with minutes to spare, park, and run to class, always making it just in time. I sit through the lecture, then head down to my office in the basement where I make a devastating discovery: I forgot my granola bar.

The thing is, this hasn't just happened once or twice. It happens every. single. Wednesday. Now I ask, who would schedule an 8:00 a.m. class smack dab in the middle of the week? Hmmm? Someone who has it in for poor grad students, if you ask me. But at least it guarantees I have an exciting morning once a week.

Teaser

2010-10-20T17:17:00.001-04:00

I've had an idea for a short story in my head for a while now, and finally decided to start writing it. I'm not sure when I'll have time to start working on it again, but here's a (very) rough draft of the introduction.

Undestined

It was Fortune Day. Most towns had coming of age rituals, but the one here in Dagrosa was unique, as unique as it’s people. In a world of magic, the Dargrosians stood out. It was commonly said that all great Heroes came from Dagrosa. Mind you, not everyone from Dagrosa was a Hero, but if one was a Hero, it was certain you came from there. For the people of Dagrosa each had a Destiny. Oh, often enough it was simple: to be a good cook, to make gardens grow, to sing away people’s worries. But every now and then, Dagrosa would produce a Hero.

What is important to know about Dagrosa is that not only did each person have a Destiny, but each person knew it. That was what Fortune Day was all about. All the children who would become adults that year gathered at the small cabin of the Seer, and she would look into their eyes, into their souls, and tell them what their Destiny was. And today was Fortune Day.

Field Guide to Graduate Students

2010-10-18T08:50:00.000-04:00

Graduate students are a unique class of students that can be found in many major universities. While they are a varied group, there are certain characteristics by which one can identify them. Should you for some reason wish to identify these students, the following guide has been designed to help you.

Appearance: Of all the characteristics belonging to graduate students, appearance is probably the most varied. Graduate students range in age from anywhere from 22 on up. Most of them, however, are typically in their early to mid-20s. Their clothing often resembles their status -- somewhere between student and professional. Jeans worn with a nice top are typical, and reflect this dual status.

Habitat: When not engaging in "study breaks" (see Behavior), graduate students can typically be found in one of four locations. These are, in order of frequency, the building that houses their department, the library, in class, and their apartments. I say apartments, though some graduate students also rent or even own houses. The majority of grad students, however, rent one-bedroom apartments. Graduate student living spaces are typically better furnished than their undergrad counterparts, and generally contain a large number of books concerning their area of study.

Dietary Habits: The dietary habits of graduate students are wide and varied. They are typically healthier than those of undergraduates, but not necessarily. Often, they are a mix of quick, easy meals, and healthier, more involved meals. Breakfast is often the meal given the least amount of attention, as can be attested by the large quantities of granola bar wrappers that can be found in most students' cars. Lunch is typically a packed sandwich, leftovers for dinner, or a quick meal purchased on campus. Dinner ranges from frozen microwave meals, to proper meals with a meat and vegetables.

Behavior: Graduate behavior consists mainly of two activities- doing work (AKA "studying"), and avoiding work (AKA "study breaks"). The term "study break" covers a wide range of activities, from eating meals, to parties, to taking naps. Such behaviors are typically reserved for the weekend, and most graduate students spend their weekdays trying to get enough work done to justify taking a study break at some point on Saturday or Sunday.

Disclaimer: This is by no means a comprehensive guide, and the author takes no responsibility for its use. Please be aware that approaching a graduate student, especially one engaged in "studying" can be dangerous. Approaching a graduate student on a "study break" also carries it's own risks, including, but not limited to, being engaged in an in-depth conversation of an obscure field, witnessing a nervous break-down, and receiving a lecture on why one's chosen field of study is, in fact, "useful and important".

The Teacher Becomes the Student

2010-10-15T09:48:00.000-04:00

I've taught a lot of people how to knit, and a couple of people how to spin. I'm pretty used to be one of the most experienced knitters in the room at any given time, which means I do a lot of knitting "troubleshooting". A couple of weeks ago, however, the tables were turned on me when I mentioned that, despite being shown how to by several people, I've never properly learned to crochet. I mistakenly said this in earshot of an avid crocheter. And now...well now I have this:

A crocheted dishtowel, in Lily's Sugar & Cream in Denim (it's a variegated blue, you just can't tell in the picture. The colour pooling made an interesting design, though).

It's not perfect- if you look closely you can see I added a stitch on the edge of the left side. But I've been assured by my teacher that it's good for a first piece, and that the stitches are even and not too loose or too tight.

It was interesting being the student and not the teacher when it came to a fibre art. I found myself struggling to get my hands to twist the right way to crochet, when they wanted to twist like they were knitting, and I kept trying to wrap the yarn around the hook in the wrong direction. I also felt the need to check with my friend every couple of stitches: "Is this right? Should it look like this? Is this the way the yarn should go?" She was incredible patient, and I'm pretty pleased with the end result.

So, it looks like I've added one more fibre skill to my arsenal. Next up? Weaving :)

Translating Poetry

2010-10-13T15:25:00.000-04:00

The other day, my Latin professor asked us how to properly translate poetry into English. I suggested that the only way to do it was to understand Horace's poem, and then writet your own, and she agreed (though, apparently, we can't do that on the test ;) ). The conversation reminded me of a poem I wrote about/right after a Latin class where we were translating Horace in undergrad. It's not my best, (actually, I don't think it's at all that good), but it's an interesting example of this idea. Here it is, inspired by Horace, Ode 3.13 (and no, this is not a translation, and no, the lines under the Latin are not translation of the Latin above them). (Carmina 3.13 in Latin (scroll down), and in English).

Frustra

O fons Bandusiae, splendidior vitror!
I hear sirens outside, growing louder.
Dulci digne mero!
digne, digne
The sirens -- are they worthy?
Worthy of my attention?
But they are fading now.
Unde loquaces
lymphae desiliunt tuae.
I hear them no longer.
Nam gelidos inficiet tibi
rubro sanguine rivos
lasciui suboles gregis.
Tonight, in high-def; a shooting
rubro sanguine
rubro sanguine
rubro sanguine
We sit and watch.
Frustra.
In vain.
The world continues outside.
Frustra.
In vain.
On T.V.
Rubro sanguine
in high-def.
Frusta.
Rubro sanguine.
Frustra.

Mid-term Recap

2010-10-11T09:51:00.000-04:00

So, I'm about mid-way through my first semester of graduate school, and figured I owe everyone an update on what I've been up.

1. The Parking Situation: You may remember the trouble I had finding a parking spot on campus. We,ll I've solved the problem, though at the expense of an hour of sleep. My earliest class MWF is 11:15. On T/Thur. it's 12:30. But I get on campus everyday before 8 to guarantee a good parking spot.

2. The Dungeon: The Dungeon is what the Classics dept. calls the basement of our building. Graduate TA's have their "offices" (i.e. desks) down there. It has now become one of my most frequent hang-outs on campus, since it's quiet, has internet, and has electric outlets. I spend most of my mornings there before class. Occasionally, a student will find his or her way down there for help on a paper.

3. Teacher's Assistant: I'm a TA for a myth class, and am enjoying it for the most part, though I have ridiculous number of tests and papers to grade. I get to give a lecture on Thursday, and am excited about that.

4. Greek: Greek is the bane of my existence right now. I still like Greek, don't get me wrong, but I'm really struggling in the class, and it can be frustrating. But I'm hanging in there, and my professor is incredibly understanding and has been helping me develop better studying/translations skills to help me improve.

5. Sleep: About a week ago, I finally realized the truth: There are not enough hours in the day for me to get everything done. Something had to give. I confess, I love to sleep. I don't sleep in very late, but rather like to go to bed early(ish), and take naps. But I've found that if I want to get everything done and have some time leftover for a life, then I have give up an hour or two of sleep of night (don't worry- I'm still getting enough sleep- just not as much as I would like).

6. Church: I thought it would take me some time to find a church and get involved. Instead, my first week I walked to a church near my house and felt right at home. I'm now a part of the young adults group and the handbell choir.

7. Knitting/Fibre Friends: About my 3rd or 4th week here (can't remember which) I invited a few friends over to my house on Friday to eat dinner, watch a movie, and knit/spin/crochet/cross-stitch. Since then, Fibre Friday has ceased to be just an abstract concept on my blog, but a regular gathering. Every Friday we take turns hosting the group, and just hanging out and talking.

8. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome: As I mentioned on Friday, I'm now pain-free almost all the time. I still ice my wrists every other day or so, and take it easy on the knitting and typing, and that seems to do the trick. It's an amazing thing to not have pain from every day activities again.

9. Humilty: Graduate school has been a great lesson in humility. I'm used to being one of the top students in my class, and generally the one who knows the most about all things Classical. But now I'm with a group of students who were also all top students and studied Classics, and I'm just one of the many. It's been interesting, sometimes frustrating, but overall, good. I love getting to hang out with people who think "Hephaestus' Happenin' Hammer" is a good name for a Quiz Team, and that "Aristophanes: The Original Player Hater" would make a good t-shirt slogan.

10. Community Supported Agriculture: One of my friends and fellow Farmer's Market shopper introduced me to the concept of a CSA, where you pay a certain amount of money to a local farmer upfront, and every week for a set number of weeks, you receive a bag of produce. After some research, we decided to split the cost and get a CSA to share. I now have a huge amount of fresh produce to use every week; this week I received, along with many other things, four eggplants! So of course, I made eggplant parmesan. I'm really loving this, it was really affordable.

Spinning a Good Yarn

2010-10-08T09:34:00.000-04:00

You may remember that I've been dealing with carpal tunnel syndrome. Well, I have good new to report: I now have almost no pain in my writs, and can do small amounts of knitting and typing again. Yay! (I will avoid dragging you through a philosophical discussion of pleasure and pain- at least for today.)

Some good, however, did come from not being able to knit. I discovered that spinning didn't hurt my wrists, so I picked up my spindle and started to work on my much-neglected fibre stash. A quick re-cap of my earlier spinning projects:

Project #1: black alpaca from Colorado:

Very loose twist and plying. This became, unintentionally, thick-thin yarn, going from being very thick to very thin with no pattern. It's very soft, but I have some worries how it will hold up when knitted (it might untwist). Also, because I did a poor job of drafting the fibre (pulling it loose so it can be spun) I ended up wasting a lot.

Project #2: Hand-dyed alpaca from...somewhere.

Way over-spun and over-plied (I was determined not to make the same mistake I did on my first try), this yarn retains none of the softness characteristic of alpaca. I spun it as a gift for a friend. I don't think she's used it yet (and, honestly, I don't blame her), though it will be interesting to see how it knits up. I think it'll be very energetic and twist and pull the fibre. Could actually end up really cool.

Well, the say "practice makes perfect" and "third's time the charm", and that seems to have been the case. The yarn I just finished spinning came out, well, wonderful.

Project #3: light brown Alpaca from Victoria, Canada

This yarn is a dream. It's soft, has a gentle halo, and is spun so evenly I can actually get a good idea of its gauge (it's not perfect, but close). If I saw this yarn in a yarn store, I would probably but it. My plans are to dye this yarn (along with the yarn I'm currently spinning) and weave it on a loom I'm planning to build. More on that later.

(By the way, does anyone else love the title of this post? I t makes me happy because it works in two ways- literally spinning yarn, metaphorically telling a story :) )

Dude, It's Like an Ancient Flamethrower!

2010-10-06T10:41:00.000-04:00

So, I was like reading Thucydides the other night (for, like, class, duh), and mostly he's like all about this war, and like, all names and dates and stuff, so I'm just reading along, right? And then there's like this passage, right? And I'm totally like "whoa, dude", 'cause it's totally an ancient flamethrower.

Check it: "They sawed a great beam in two, hollowed it out completely, then fitted the two parts precisely together again, like a pipe; at the far ends they suspended a cauldron on chains, with an iron nozzle curving down into it from the beam [....] Wherever they got it close, they applied large bellows to their end of the beam and made them blow. The pipe was airtight so the blast went straight through to the cauldron, which was full of lighted charcoal, sulphur, and pitch. The result was a huge flame which set fire to the wall" (Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War 4.100, trans. Martin Hammond)

And I was like, "how cool is that? Maybe those Greeks aren't so boring." So I like googled it, right? And I totally found this sketch of it here (scroll down).

P.S. I actually do like reading Thucydides.

P.P.S. I've decided that discipline of keeping up with my blog is good for me, so I'm going to start blogging regularly again. The one big change is that, because I don't have much time for creative writing, Wednesdays are often going to be my thoughts on what I'm reading or translations of Latin poetry ('cause I'm cool like that).

Girls with Glasses

2010-09-20T18:21:00.001-04:00

The mom on this blog here is looking for pictures of girls with glasses, to help her little girl's self-confidence. So here's my contribution.

Glasses

I need them to read. Which, as a grad student, is like saying I need them to breathe.

A Prayer for September 11

2010-09-11T14:15:00.000-04:00

Dear God,

For me, September 11 just a memory. It is an emotional memory, a powerful memory, but just a memory nonetheless.

But for some, September 11 is a reminder. A reminder of why the pillow on the bed next to them is now empty. A reminder of the brother who used to play ball in the backyard, of the sister who used to read out loud, of the friend who used to call and chat. I pray that you would be with them today, Lord, and comfort them.

For them, as for all of us, today is a reminder of hard questions. Questions like "Why? Why there, why them, why that day, why that plane?" These are the hard questions. The ones we ask, but that only You know the answer to.

So today, Lord, I pray that as we remember, as we mourn, we remember also to rejoice. To rejoice for the lives that we have, and remember to enjoy every moment.

Thank you for today, Lord, and if today is the only day we have, let us live it to the fullest.

Amen.

First Week Recap

2010-08-29T13:05:00.001-04:00

Well, it's been over a week since my last post, and I really had intended to post more often. As it turns out, however, even though I'm only taking nine credit hours, that's a lot when you've been away from school for a year. And as I settle into my schedule, I expect that I will be able to blog more often. But for now, I can only promise once a week. So here is your weekly blog post (and I promise they won't all just be weekly recaps):

Monday: my first class on Monday was History of the Peloponnesian War at 12:30. I arrived on campus around nine o'clock, and pulled right into a spot near my hall. I had heard that it's hard to find a parking spot on campus, so I took it as an auspicious start of the week (as a Classics major, I now have to pay attention to such thing as auspices and bird signs). The Peloponnesian War class is going to be really fun. Instead of just using a textbook or a history book, we're going to be looking at actual classical texts, such as Thucydides, Plutarch, and Aristotle. After the Peloponnesian War class, I had Latin. The subject matter, Latin letters, seemed very interesting to me, but it was clear was going to take a lot of work.

Tuesday: I arrived a campus hour before my first class, which again was at 12:30. I am really excited about this class, because we'll be translating Plato's Phaedo. I immediately checked the parking lot where I park yesterday to see if I could find another good spot. There weren't any, which didn't surprise me so I circled around and checked some of the street parking. Still no spots. I circled not one, not two, but three parking garages looking for spots, and still didn't find one. At this point it was 12:15, and I was getting nervous. I drove up and down all the streets around campus, and finally found an open parking lot. I pulled in, how to ask where I was (it turned out I was at the law school), and get directions back to where I need to be. I ended up being a good 10 minutes late the class. Like the Latin course, I was excited about the subject matter, but worried about the workload.

After the Plato class, I have the class I TA for, Myth East and West. There are there are over 200 students in the class, which is absolutely crazy to me, who's used to there only being 20 or so students in a class. I won't be teaching, but rather helping the professor grade all of the tests and papers along with the other TA.

Wednesday: after spending almost all of Tuesday translating Latin, and realizing it's going to take me just as long to translate for Greek, I realized something was going to have to be done. I arrived a campus before eight, because I had an early class/seminar on how to be a graduate student. I got a parking spot and good lot again, and happily made my way to class. After class, I spoke with my professor for the Latin class, and decided to move down to a lower level course, where we'll will be translating Horace. I think this was the right decision, and will let me spend more time focusing on the Greek course, with the added bonus of getting to translate one of my favorite Latin authors. After my new Latin class, I went to history of the Peloponnesian war class.

Thursday: Thinking I had finally figured out the parking situation, I arrived on campus with two hours to spare, and promptly circled all the good parking spots. All were taken. I circled all the parking garages -- twice. Still no spots. Still not concerned, I drove over to the law school parking lot, only to find it was closed. I circle all the lots again. Still no luck. By now, I was starting to get worried, as the time buffer I built and was running out. As I circled the streets around campus, I suddenly saw a familiar building. It was the office building of my dad's cousin, whom we visited when I came out to look for an apartment. The sign out front said no unauthorized parking, but I parked in there anyways, and knocked on the door to ask for permission to park there. Permission received, I headed to class.

Friday: on Friday, I didn't play around, but arrived a campus before eight o'clock, still had the circle to different parking lots and garages before I found a spot, found one after 45 minutes, then spent the rest of my free time studying while I waited for my classes start.

So, that's my week in a nutshell. Hopefully, I'll have fewer parking adventures next week, but other than that, my schedule be pretty much the same. Keep an eye out for a new post next week!

Making a Home

2010-08-20T22:16:00.000-04:00

While this week has been spent taking care of such things as registering for classes and taking care of paperwork, the main part of my week seems to have been the process of turning my small apartment into a home.

Whilel it's still not finished, I've made a lot of progress. My kitchen and dining area, which is also where my desk is, has all been put together and organized, as has been my living room. I think the moment for me that everything really came together was when I finally hung up my pictures. I say pictures, but really most of what I have are framed posters and artwork. All of them have meaning to me, and many were bought from the different places that I have lived and visited. In adding them to the decor of my little apartment, I seem to be adding a little bit of myself to it as well.

I still have a lot of learning to do, like how to cook in the kitchen small enough for me to touch both walls, and get dressed in the bathroom where my hands hit the ceiling. But I think the name Hobbit House truly does suit my new little home. After all, Tolkien says "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort." My house may be small, but it is also a place that is comfortable.

I still have one more room to finish putting together, and will hopefully finish tomorrow so I can put pictures of my apartment up for you. In the meantime, I'd like to leave you with another quote from Tolkien. "It is the job that is never started that takes longest to finish.”"

More information on hobbits:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hobbit

In Defense of Apples

2010-08-18T20:35:00.000-04:00

The idea for this started as joke between my college roommates and I. It is, of course, meant purely as a piece of fiction, not as any sort of academic speculation.

Sometimes, a lot can depend on a little thing. And sometimes, a lot gets dumped on a little thing. Take apples for example. As far as I’m concerned, no fruit, no thing, has taken so much blame for something it didn’t do.

Original sin, no less! The poor apple gets blamed for being the fruit that brought sin into the world. I don’t know how the rumor started. Maybe because the apple’s taste is deceptionally both sweet and bitter at the same time. Maybe it’s because in Latin mãla (apple tree) is just one long mark short of mala (evil). Maybe some non-too-scholarly monk translated God’s warning about the “tree of good and apples” instead of the “tree of good and evil.” I don’t know. Whatever it is, the poor apple has had a bad rap ever since.

I mean, really, apples? Tell me, where do apples appear in the Bible? The answer would be: nowhere. If you’re looking for Biblically significant fruits, I’m afraid you have to look somewhere else. Like figs for example.

‘Figs’? you ask. Yes, figs. Did you know Jesus once cursed a fig tree? No really, you can go look it up if you don’t believe me. He was walking by this fig tree (out of season, of course,) and wanted a fig. But of course, there weren’t any there. So he cursed it. And the next day the tree was dead. So if you’re looking for a bad fruit, I figure a fig might just be it.

Of course, if you’re looking for a really significant fruit, you probably can’t do much better than a grape, what with water into wine, vines and branches, and laboring in vineyards. It seems to me the Bible is just chock full of grapes, and what with them becoming wine and all, they strike me as a bit more devilish than your plain run of the mill apple.

But if you really want to know what fruit is to blame, you don’t need to look any farther than the architectural descriptions that litter the Old Testament. They are there, carved in to wood, covered with beaten gold, and quietly decorating almost everything built in that time and age. I am speaking, of course, of pomegranates.

It seems to me that if a fruit is to be blamed for original sin, it must be the pomegranates. Why else would they decorate everything from tent poles to engravings? It’s I reminder, I think. I reminder of sin carved even in the Holy of Holies.

So how about we give the poor little apple a break, and start putting the blame where it properly lies – on the pomegranate.

Already Learning

2010-08-16T21:02:00.000-04:00

Well, school hasn't even started yet and I've already learned lots of things.

1. Decorating the apartment is a lot harder to do by myself than it was with my roommates to help.

2. Getting lost on campus in 97° weather is a good way to make new friends.

3. Knitters and fiber lovers will always find each other.

4. Anyone who can successfully complete a graduate school application should automatically deserve acceptance.

5. There are limits to what 3M hooks will hold.

6. No matter how many times you make your list, or how many times you check it, you will always forget to pick up something from the store.

7. Learning to cook and a new kitchen can be challenged. Especially when said kitchen is small enough that you can touch both walls with their arms outstretched.

8. My Garman GPS is amazing.

9. I really think of going to like graduate school.

10. A bit unrelated, but I thought you'd find it interesting that I wrote this entire post without touching the keyboard. My carpal tunnel syndrome is doing much better, but still gives me pain when I type. So, I bought a software called MacSpeech Dictate. It converts speech into text, and I used it to write this entire post.

Well, that's about all I have energy for today. Time to head to bed early and get ready for a day trying to navigate the halls of academia.

I'm Moving Tomorrow!!!

2010-08-13T21:46:00.001-04:00

See above.

String Theory

2010-08-11T23:17:00.002-04:00

Everyone who knits has experienced it at one time or another. Inexplicably, in the middle of a row, through no fault of your own, a stitch disappears. It's a bit like that one sock in a pair that gets eaten in the dyer. This conumdrum was briefly discussed at the knitting group I go to the other night, and I thought it would make a good topic for a piece of flash fiction. I've never written any flash in the fantasy genre before, so I also thought it would be a good writing exercise.

Initially, my idea was to write about a mischievous little elf (or fairy) who stole stitches from innocent knitters. But I just couldn't get the idea to go anywhere. Instead, I discovered a story completely different from the one I wanted to tell, but I went a long to see where it would lead me.

In making my lists the other day, I forgot a very important one. What I've learned from knitting...and my knitting group. And what I've learned is this: knitting is an act of creating, and when you create, you put something of yourself into the work. So this post, this story, is dedicated to the members of Not You Grandmother's Knitting Group, for what they've taught me about being comfortable in my skin, and about loving my craft.

The woman, girl really, sat upright in her chair, arms folded in her lap. Before her eyes a pair of needles hovered, knitting a thin black yarn. The rhythm of the needles was broken every few stitches by the appearance of a coloured stitch, sliding onto the needle as if from nowhere. The knitted material dangling off the needles was riddled with these stitches, each one different.

The door to her room opened, and the man entered. Her needles stilled as he approached, but remained suspended in the air.

“Why are you stopping?” he demanded.

“Is it done yet?”

“Why are you stopping?”

She looked up at him. If she was younger, she would have stuck her tongue out at him. Had she ever been younger? Yes, she remembered. It had been a game once. Seeing the stitches. Stealing them. Watching the women desperately counting the remaining stitches. But it wasn’t a game. Not any more.

“Well?”

She’d done it again. Gotten lost in her thoughts. “I’ve told you before. I can’t focus on the stitches when you’re in here.”

He fingered the fabric, and the coloured stitches glimmered slightly.

“Is it done yet?” She asked again.

“It’s done when I say it is.” What he always said. He turned to leave.

“Why? Why do you need the stitches?”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. “To see the world in a grain of sand.”

She thought for a moment, remembering. Or was she looking forward. It grew more and more difficult to tell the difference. But she had it now. “William Blake.”

He didn’t answer. Just left.

Her hands stayed trembling in her lap, and she brought her needles down to them. She was scared of him. Or did she hate him? She couldn’t remember anymore. His power was strong. Strong enough to bind her to this room, to this task. Beacause he couldn’t do what she did. Couldn’t ‘see the world in a grain of sand’. But she did. She saw all the threads in the world, all the stitches. Not just the ones made out of yarn. The tiny, invisible ones made of atoms. The thin, reaching thread of time. She could see them. And some of the bigger ones, she could touch. And steal.

She fingered the cloth in her lap. Cloth. Clotho. Lachesis. Atropos. The Greeks had understood all those years ago (or would they figure it out- did it matter?). Each life was a thread. Spun. Measured. Cut.

Gently, she laid her finger against one of the coloured stitches. In a flash, all that was contained within it filled her mind. The woman who had spun the yarn. The woman who knit it. Everything she had touched. Everything she had made. Each stitch a life, bound into the cloth as surely as she was bound in this room. Cloth. Clotho.

She wondered if the Greeks had understood how each life was bound together. Not like in her cloth, no, her cloth was a mockery of the world. Little lives bound together for a lesser purpose. But the real world. All those lives, all those stitches, bound together. Woven.

There had been a woman, once, who had weaved to save her life. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t to save her life. It was to keep from having to marry a man she didn’t love. But perhaps it had meant the same to her.

What was her name? It was rich. Had a coppery sound. No, not yet. That was in another time. In her time she was Penelope. Yes, that was right. Penelope who wove to save her life. But that wasn’t right either.

She looked at the cloth that lay across her lap. So long. Miles and miles of it. Or was it just a few feet? Had she been knitting for a lifetime, or a couple of days? She couldn’t remember. Did it matter? So much work, so much labor, for him. So he could bind the lives she had stitched into the material.

Penelope. But Penelope didn’t weave to save her life. That wasn’t it, was it? Almost without thinking, she slid the needle out of work. Tugged the yarn in her hand. The black stitches slowly pulled apart. When she came to a coloured stitch, it quietly disappeared; it was simply not there. Gone. Released. Freed. Because she had it now. She remembered the story. The weaving had been a guise. A distraction.

A pile of black yarn rested limply beside her. Penelope hadn’t weaved to save her life. She had unraveled.

Some references, if you're interested:
Auguries of Innocence, by William Blake

Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos

Penelope

(approximately) 100 Lessons

2010-08-09T19:44:00.000-04:00

I've been told that taking a gap year between undergrad and grad school is a good thing. That you can learn a lot from it. Well, this is my last Monday post during my gap year. Next Monday is my first day of graduate school orientation. If you've followed my blog, you know it hasn't been an easy year for me. A voluntary gap year is one thing; an involuntary one is completely different. But I have learned a lot, and wanted to share some of those lessons with you. Instead of one list of 100, I've broken it down into lists of 10.

10 Things I've Learned About Myself
1. Even my greatest strengths can fail me.
2. I can't let my fears make my decisions for me.
3. According to one of my students, EMMA stands for: Educated, Mad skills, Magnifacent (her spelling) Amazing. That's right, I have mad skills :)
4. I'm a better teacher than I am a student.
5. I feel completely at home in Academia.
6. You can learn a lot by listening and not talking.
7. I can't always change my situation, but I can change my reaction to it.
8. It's okay to have to depend n someone else.
9. I have the worlds greatest parents. Hands down.
10. Some days, I am going to feel sad. And that's not a bad thing.

10 Things I've Learned About Teaching/Middle Schoolers
1. Middle schoolers really aren't that scary. And they really do want to learn.
2. Care about your students. There is no other way to reach them.
3. I'm way cooler as middle school teacher than I was as a middle school student.
4. Middle schoolers will believe just about anything an authority figure tells them. So be very careful what you say.
5. Middle schoolers notice how you act more than what you say. Make sure your actions don't contradict your words.
6. Sometimes an off topic conversation can lead to a better teaching opportunity than staying on topic ever could.
8. Respect only works mutually. You have to give it to get it.
9. Middle schoolers want responsibility, but don't always understand the consequences.
10. There is such thing as a stupid question- but it's always safer to assume that there isn't.

10 Things I've Learned About/From Social Media
1. Don't shout: talk and listen.
2. Never estimate the power of an immediate response
3. I can turn a 3 page press release into a 140 character tweet.
4. You have to shift through a lot of chaff to find the wheat. Sometimes it's worth it, sometimes its not. Learn to tell the difference.
5. People want to be heard. It's okay to be quiet and let them speak.
6. I f you believe what you're saying, others will believe it too.
7. Honesty really is the best policy...and can save a lot of backtracking.
8. Don't be annoying.
9. There is a fine line between paying attention and stalking. DO NOT CROSS IT!
10. Be yourself. Really.

10 Things I've Learned About/From Being an Office Assistant
1. Always, always be nice to the person who answers the phone. What ever the problem is probably wasn't there fault, but there's a good chance they know who to forward you to in order to fix it.
2. I can fold a piece of paper so it fits perfectly in a business envelop every single time (it's the little things that count).
3. The UPS/Fedex delivery guy always asks your last name after you sign a delivery form. Even though you just wrote it down.
4. If you're the person who works from a laptop...you're the person who has to move desks when there's a leak.
5. Unattended Post-it notes will be "commandeered" by co-workers.
6. The best way to deal with an upset person on the phone is to be calm, and try to be understanding.
7. Don't take things personally.
8. I can use one of those strapping tape things to package a cardboard box.
9. When you buy a bag of M&M's to refill the office dispenser...don't keep the bag where you can reach it.
10. Keep your e-mail organized. Disorganized e-mails=disorganized office.

10 Things I've Learned About/From Running
1. It's easy to make excuses not to run.
2. The absolute best way to make yourself get out of bed in the morning is to have a running partner depending on you.
3. All the world's problems can be solved while on a run.
4. My mind is my worst enemy on a run. If I can beat my own insecurities, I'll have a good run.
5. Drinking water, eating a banana, and going for a run can solve 99.9% of your problems...according to my Mom.
6. I can't find the motivation to run if I don't have a goal I'm working towards.
7. A long run in the morning leaves you feeling accomplished all day.
8. There is no feeling in the world like crossing the finish line.
9. No pain, no gain.
10. No matter how hard it is to motivate yourself to go running, you always feel better after you run.

10 Things I've Learned From/About Blogging
1. Keep track of what you've blogged about so you're not confused when someone asks you about it.
2. Having a blogging schedule helps me stay disciplined.
3. I've found it nearly impossible to get people to leave comments on my blog (if you have any thoughts on how to do this, please leave them in the comments ;) )
4. Bloggers are, in general, really fun people to get to know.
5. I still can't figure out why people blog...or why I read them.
6. It's very odd to have certain aspects of your life out in the public.
7. Making a commitment publicly on your blog is a good way to motivate yourself to stick with it.
8. My blog readers are amazing, wonderful people. Proof: My apartment was furnished almost entirely from people who read my blog (mind you, a lot of them are family and friends, but my family and friends are amazing and wonderful, so it works).
9. It can be hard to find the balance between life and blogging about life.
10. I always have a moment of fear/apprehension when I hit "publish post" and send my little words out into the big, bad world.

One Thing I've Learned Today
1. Making lists can be hard. And kinda annoying. So...I'm going to stop for now. Maybe I'll give you the reaming 31 lessons on Wednesday. But probably not.

Have a good week! And happy 8-9-10 Day!

Some Puzzling Behaivor

2010-08-06T19:36:00.001-04:00

It's Fibre Friday and I'm going to talk about fibre- sort of. But the important thing is that I'm getting back on my normal blogging schedule.

I'm now reaching the 3 week point of not knitting, and I've realized a few things about my myself.
1. I really, really love to knit.
2. When I can't knit, I go a little crazy.
3. I no longer know what to do with "dead time". What do I do while watching TV? Just sit there and watch it? What about in waiting rooms? How do people do this?

Anyways, last Monday (week 2 of no knitting) I couldn't take anymore. I had to have something to do, even if it wasn't nice and portable like knitting (I've tried crocheting, but that hurt my wrist too- maybe it's time to get a loom?) So, I went to Barnes and Nobel and bought a puzzle. 5 days later, I had this:

I learned a few things from doing a puzzle:

1. I like puzzles...but not as much as knitting.

2. I'm actually pretty good at puzzles...but not as good as I am at knitting.

3. It's much harder to figure out what to do with a finished puzzle than it is with a piece of knitting. Do you take it apart? Frame it? What? (I've taken it apart, but plan to do it again and frame it. It matches my parents' kitchen).

It is interesting that I feel the need to be constantly doing something creative, be it knit or put together puzzles. Anyone else have trouble just doing nothing?

Home Sweet Home-to-be

2010-08-03T20:18:00.000-04:00

This weekend, my parents rented a truck and helped me move all my furniture to my new apartment. I'm still in Orlando for about two weeks, but my apartment is now mostly set up and just waiting for me and my clothes to move in. It's small (my Dad calls it a hobbit-house. I think it's just the right size for my 5'3" build- I can reach all the cabinets), but it's mine. And there is a lovely garden outside. So, some pictures of what I've done.

My little kitchen (needlepoint on shelf done by my friend Joanne)

Desk and bookcase- against a wall in the kitchen. Not organized yet.

Living room. Couch from Bob & Bev :).

Bedroom.

There's a few things I don't have pictures of yet, but I will post them once I move in.

What You Have

2010-07-25T16:19:00.000-04:00

I seem to have fallen a but behind on my blogging. My excuses are 1) I'm lazy, 2) I'm busy getting ready to move, and 3) I've developed carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand. This means /i can only type with my left hand and because of 1) and 2) I haven't taken the time to slowly peck out a post.

It really is true that you don't know what you have until you lose it. Recently, it seems everyone in my family has had an injury that keeps them from doing what they love. Both my parents have had injuries that kept them from running, and now I can't knit or spin.

Knitting is a pretty big part of my life, but I didn't realize how big until I couldn't do it. I've not knit for over a week now, and it's actually having an effect on me. I'm more irritable and less productive. With knitting to help me unwind (no pun intended- if it was, I would have used spinning), I've felt more stressed out than before.

While I've appreciated what knitting has done in my life, I never really stopped to appreciate what a gift being able to knit is. I have money to spare to buy yarn, time to spare to knit, and (up until last year) two healthy hands to knit with. I took my craft for granted.

I guess, ultimately, there's a lot of things in my life I've taken for granted much to often. My family, my job, my health. My hand will heal, but there are so many people who've had injuries that won't, or have lost a loved one. Frustrating as my injury has been, I'm trying to make it into an opportunity to appreciate all the things I take for granted.

Housesitting 2.0

2010-07-15T10:38:00.000-04:00

You might remember that around this time last year I did some housesitting. You can see those posts here and here. Well, I'm housesitting for the same family, and the pets are up to their usual antics. Let me introduce you to them:

First, there is a fish (who is hiding in his castle at the moment, so no picture). I'm not sure what the fish's name is. No one told me, and the only thing it says on my list of things to do is "feed the fish once a day". However, last year's housesitting post tells me the then-fish's name was Nim (from "Nim's Island" I presume), so we'll go with that.

Next, there's a cat, who is, for the most part, invisible. The cat is also not named on my to-do list, but I'm pretty sure his/her name is Oreo (or "That-Darn-Cat!" one or the other).

And then, there's these two:

Lance and Olivia (Lance is on the left here...I think)

Lance and Olivia are Somewhat Sad Puppies right now. They are wonder where their People are, and why this strange Person who can't even tell them apart is here. Which may explain last night and this morning.

You see, the dogs are not allowed on the furniture. They know this. I know this. They know I know this. So I have no explanation for why when I rolled over in bed last night I saw this:

(this time I know it's Lance)

But honestly, how can you get upset at a face like that. He clearly knows he shouldn't be on the bed, but his People are gone and well...I let him stay (plus, he's kinda heavy. I tried to shove him off and he just gave me a look that said "Really?")

Now, my helpful little list told me that around 7:00 a.m. I should let the dogs out in the yard, feed them, then walk them. But I remembered from last time that they started whining to go out around 6:00, so I set my alarm accordingly.

At exactly 5:38, a paw hit my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Lance sitting sphinx-like on the bed, looking at me expectantly. I calmly explained to him that I did not, in fact, have to let him out until 7, but that I was planning to letting him out a whole hour earlier if he would please let me go back to sleep. He wagged his tail and sat up, and Olivia, who had been politely sleeping on the dog bed, came over and stuck her nose in my face. It was clearly a conspiracy. I sighed, and got up.

After letting the dogs out, I figured I might as well feed them, so I went into the garage to get their food. When I switched on the light, I was surprised to see the cat, who had henceforth been invisible. "Good morning," I said, and he immediately launched into a chorus of "meows" and a show of affection, rubbing against my hand. Once assured of my attention, he hopped over to his food bowl. Oh. That's what he wanted.

I fed the cat and dogs (the fish was laying at the bottom of his bowl, but I didn't feel like checking to see if he was alive), walked the dogs, and got my own food. As I'm writing this, the fish is now swimming, the dogs are laying next to my feet, the cat is once again invisible, and I 'm going back to bed. Wake me in half an hour.

(P.S. I apologize for any typos. I have tendonitis in my right wrist, so am typing this entirely left handed.)

Excuses, Excuses

2010-07-09T21:16:00.000-04:00

I haven't done a very good job of sticking to my blogging schedule lately, and this is my excuse:

This is a pile of the...stuff I'll be taking with me to graduate school. I've been busy going through everything I own and deciding what to keep and what to throw away while stalking garage sales and shamelessly begging for things I don't have. Between that and work, I haven't really had a lot of energy for blogging- or at any rate the discipline to stick to my blog schedule. But since this is my Fibre Friday, it seems appropriate to share with you how I measured out what size desk will fit in my little apartment:

Bernat Handicrafter Cotton Solids in denim. At lease I still have time to play with yarn :)

Odds and Ends

2010-07-05T22:45:00.000-04:00

The past couple weeks I've been collecting a wide array of items to furnish my apartment with. I've had to buy a few things, but a good bit of what I've gotten has been given to me. I have dishes and other kitchen things from my grandparents and parents, a blender and beater from a couple from church, and another couple has offered me a microwave. I've also been offered (and just haven't picked up) a set of wooden boxes that stack into shelves from a blog reader. And the best part of all these things (besides being free) is that they are all used.

I know it might sound odd to be excited about haveing used goods, but to me that means they have meaning. There will be hardly an item in my apartment that won't have a story attached to it, or remind me of a friend. So even though my glasses won't match, and some of my appliances will be older than me, the idea of sharing my apartment with theses little odds and ends that belonged to others appeals to me.

iTouch/iPhone Apps for knitters

2010-07-03T19:00:00.000-04:00

(See what I did? See how I put iTouch first and not iPhone in the title? Take that, iPhone owners! Also, my disclosure: This review is entirely my personal opinion. I have no connection with Apple or the creators of any of these apps.)

There are a lot of iTouch/iPhone apps (Ha! I did it again), and apps targeted towards knitters are no exception. So I thought I'd share the 3 apps I've found most helpful. All of these apps, once downloaded, require no Internet connection, so they're perfect for the iTouch (and you get no advantage by owning an iPhone).

1. Knit Counter Lite
Cost: Free
This is the single most used app on my iTouch. It's basically a row counter that can hold all your projects and always saves your place. When you add a project you get a default row counter, but you can add project details to the counter such pattern info, yarn type, needle size, and any notes you want to add. You also have the option of adding more than one counter to each project. Each counter can be edited. You can add notifiers that remind you to increase or decrease on set rows, and set a limit on high the counter goes (so if you're doing a pattern that repeats every 8 rows, you set the limit to 8 and it will roll back over to 1 when you reach it). I apologize if I didn't explain this well, but it's a great app, and if you get just one knitting app, this should probably be it.

2. iKnit Needlesizer
Cost: $0.99
Sure, they make those little cards with holes in them to size your needles, but do you really carry one in your purse? (I take that back...if you're anything like me, you probably do). But I bet you're much less likely to lose your iPod or phone than a piece of plastic. Using white stripes of different widths that you lay your needles against, this very basic app lets you size your knitting needles and crochet hooks in both US sizes and millimeters.

3. KnitGauge
Cost:$0.99
This app is basically for lazy people, but it beats carrying a ruler around with you to figure out gauge. Just lay the app on a piece of knitting, count the number of stitches between the markers on the screen, enter them in, and the app calculates your gauge.

4. Great Books (iFlow Reader)
Cost:$0.99
I know, I said I was talking about 3 knitting apps, but I really want to include this non-knitting app, because it solved the great conundrum of my life: How to knit and read at the same time. The iFlow reader requires no touching to change pages or scroll the text. The text scrolls by itself; you can set the speed, or control it manually by tilting it speed up or slow down (much more intuitive than it sounds). I like to set to a little below my normal reading speed, prop it at an angle, and work on a simple project while reading the story. I suggest the Great Books library (there's a lot of book sets to pick from) because it has the widest selection of texts, including fiction, philosophy, and several other genres.

An Incomplete Poem

2010-06-30T21:23:00.000-04:00

I'm too lazy to write an original post, so here's a poem I started in college (sophomore year, I think) and never finished (or really edited, as will be obvious). Maybe this will motivate me to work on it more. Oh, and it doesn't have a title yet.

P.S. I also apologize in advance for the extreme overuse of both Greek and Roman gods and goddesses.

“To bed, to bed, to bed,” he said.

“To meet that gentle mistress sleep.

And upon her lap, you may rest

Those two well traveled weary feet.”

To bed, to bed, to bed they went.

And crossed the sea of waking thought

To dark Dream-land’s faire’ tale shore,

Where Diane’s creatures children sought.

This boy, but soft, his eyes are shut,

As stealthy sleep his mind o’er takes.

Somnia to him wishes peace-

Fair forms he shall see ‘ere he wakes.

Yet here another child lies,

Sheets tied in knots and sweat-stained brow,

Night’s dark horse takes to hoof and rides-

These gifts that troubled sleep bestow.

The boy with disappointment leaves

Night’s children for the son of Day.

Eyes open with the rising sun-

Sleep is done. Time for work and play.

His sister, child of troubled sleep,

Fights to break dark Hecate’s hold.

And when brother and sister wake,

These wondrous tales each other told.

“Oh, sister,” says the woken boy,

(he is the elder of the two)

“I had a glor’us dream last night.

Listen, and I’ll tell it to you.”

He started to begin his tale,

His sister listened with wide eyes,

Jealous of his so happy dream.

Yet wonder o’er came her despise.

Her brother’s dream had started,

It would seem, very much like hers.

The two together, playing sweet,

Ignorant of Artemis’ lures.

They were in what must be Heaven,

For they had everything they’d need

To live happ’ly ever after,

Fulfilling every child’s dream.

Brother and sister stood in awe

Of finding such a magic land.

More real to them than any dream,

They explored it all, hand in hand.

But as they hurried to see it all,

Quickly dashing from sight to sight,

The two small hands began to slip,

And the girl was left in the night.

Here the dreams began to differ.

The boy went on his happy way.

But his sister, left all alone,

Found herself caught in evil’s play.

She shivered at the coming night,

The darkness all around drew near.

And in this strange and wondrous land,

She found that she began to fear.

Why had no one told her about

These hidden things, once shroud in black

That now were rearing ugly heads,

Slowly driving her further back?

She tried to stay and hold her ground

But still the creatures pressed her on.

Each step took her farther away

From her brother and waiting Dawn.

Then a sound broke her silent world,

A hidden voice began to speak.

“Child though you know not what you want,

Follow, for I know what you seek.”

Scared at first, but lost and alone,

She decided she had no choice.

“I can always go back,” she said.

So she chose to follow the Voice.

But the Voice that sounds the most sweet,

Has always been the Siren’s call.

And the Voice that offers the most,

Is the one that will take it all.

And though her heart said “be afraid”,

Her mind was already too scared,

And so it was she took that step,

Which her soul would have never dared.

What I Love/Will Miss about Orlando

2010-06-28T22:08:00.001-04:00

I talk about myself a lot on my blog (well, it's my blog- what do you expect?) but today I'm going to change that up a bit. After four years away, it's been fun rediscovering my hometown this past year, so I thought I would make a list, in no particular order, about some of my favourite things here in O-Town, which I'll miss when I leave for graduate school in August.

The Black Sheep: Of the several yarn stores in Orlando, this one is mine. At least, I like to pretend it is. After all, my name is written in the concrete of the parking lot (really...the building used to be Track Shack). But seriously, I love the cozy feel of this small yarn/needlepoint shop. I can always find some tempting yarns in gorgeous colours. Also, they are very willing to order yarns in different colours if I need them. The owner, Anne, is always willing to talk yarn and knitting with me. A reader of my blog, she almost always know just what I’m looking for when I visit (and wasn’t surprised when I brought in the yarn from my ball-winding fiasco to ask to use the store’s winder).

Best Blog: While I won’t actually be leaving this behind, I did want to give a shout-out to my fave Orlando blog, Analog Artist, Digital World, by Thomas Thorspecken. Thor is a local sketch artist that posts a sketch every day on his blog. I’m not an expert on art, but I love his style of drawing; it seems to look beyond what is right in front of your face. In fact, I have three sketches of his that will be accompanying me to grad school. Also, his posts have directed me to several events in Orlando I wouldn’t have found otherwise.

Brian Feldman: I first met Brian Feldman at a tweet-up. Since then, I’ve been involved in such crazy shenanigans as the Singing Menorah, 67 Books, and a Staring Contest. Brian is incredibly creative, and more than just a rebel without a cause. His performances often have a serious purpose behind them.

Track Shack/Track Shack Events: Sure, I work there (okay, more than just work there), but I love it too. I wouldn’t be able to spend all day helping promoting it if I didn’t believe in what the company does. Nearly daily I get read a story about how the right pair of shoes, or a group training program, or an event helped change somebody’s life into a happier, healthier one. Also, I just love the atmosphere of the races. I’ve been around runners and races literally since the day I was born, and I never get tired of it.

Power House Cafe: Nature’s Best with organic peanut butter and chocolate chips=best smoothie EVER! (in Winter Park, so not Orlando, strictly speaking, but close enough)

NYGKG: Not Your Grandmother’s Knitting Group. These ladies and guy have been a great support group this past year. Knitting brings us together once a week, but the conversation and friendship keep us coming back.

My job as an AVID tutor: I loved the opportunity I had to work with middle school children. Even though some days were frustrating, it was always worth it for the days when I got to see a light bulb turn on. I’m going to miss the students I worked with a lot; in fact, I'm going to miss them so much that this job almost kept me in Orlando for the upcoming school year.

The 2, 3, and 4 (okay, 3.7) mile loop: These are the running routes my parents used to run with me in a baby jogger and that I run now. I know them forward and backwards, and there is a kind of comfort in their familiarity. Guess it’s time to blaze my own trails now.

My OCC Family: Orlando Community Church has been my church since I was born, and it was wonderful to be back after four years away. The members are all great, caring people, many of whom helped me deal with my disappointment of not getting into grad school. I’ll especially miss all the kids I’ve watched grow up and have taught in my Sunday School class.

Living at Home: Well, I’ll kind of miss this. Some things for sure, others, not so much.

2 Row Scarf Pattern

2010-06-26T09:12:00.002-04:00

Way back when I was planning out my Knitting Olympic project, I had a few requirements for my design. I wanted it to be lace (which my knitting group has determined is anything with a Yarn Over in it), I wanted it to be reversible*, and I wanted it to be simple. I also wanted a pattern that could be be knitted narrow to make a scarf or wide to make shawl. What I came up with was a 2-row stitch pattern that, to me, looks like little rows of seeds planted in furrows.
*By reversible, I don't mean its identical on both sides, but rather that both sides look nice.

So, without further ado, my two-row scarf/shawl pattern, Seedling.

CO Multiple of four, plus 2 (ex: 12 + 2 = 14 stitches)

Row 1: k1, *k1, yo, k1, yo, k2,* repeat from * until one stitch remains, k1

Row 2: k1, *k1, ssk, k1, k2tog,* repeat from * until one stitch remains, k1

Repeat rows one and two until piece is desired length. Bind off.

Abbreviations (click on links for instructions):

yo= Yarn Over

ssk= slip two stitches then knit together

k2tog= knit two stitches together

Info about the scarf I made:

Yarn: Oasis Yarn Seduction Silk in Ruby

Needles: US 10

Stitches: 34 (8 sets of 4, + 2)

Flux

2010-06-23T21:01:00.000-04:00

Warning: This is a very discombobulated post- like my life right now

Flux is the state I'm in right now. I've signed the lease on my new apartment up at grad school (it's unfurnished, so if you have anything you want to get rid, the Emma-needs-to-furnish-her-apartment-without-going-into-debt fund is taking donations), and that signature finally drove home the fact I've been avoiding. I'm moving. Soon. Like, less than two months soon. And so I've found myself in a state of flux (and wondering if, by definition, "flux" can actually be a state of being), as I try to continue to live my Orlando life while simultaneously planning my grad school life.

On top of figuring out the logistics of my move, and attempting to figure out a budget, I've also been daily reviewing my Latin and Greek. It's amazing how much grammar and vocabulary you can forget in a year. I'm actually pretty concerned about taking the placement tests for the two languages. My vocabulary is so weak, I don't know if I'll even be able to show what grammar I know.

All of which is to say that life is crazy right now. And some things are slipping through the cracks. Like knitting group (missed you all this week!), and blogging. I'm going to try to keep to my blogging schedule, but if I don't just know it isn't you. It's me.

Knitting Wisdom

2010-06-18T20:48:00.002-04:00

Some days simply require garter stitch on size 10 needles. And Chocolate chip cookies.

Reading Comprehension Test on “Who was Rescued”

2010-06-16T21:20:00.002-04:00

Name: ________________

Date: _________________

Period: ________________

Section one:

Short Answer- please answer with 1-2 complete sentences

1. What caused the accident?

2. Why did Danielle pull over? (In her own words)

3. Which child did the mother hand to Danielle first? Why?

4. What did the mother tell Danielle to do?

5. Why did Danielle hang up on the 9-1-1 operator?

Section two:

Multiple Choice- circle one answer

1. Where was the woman and her children traveling?

a. To their Grandmother’s house b. To the beach c. To see their father

2. What was Danielle thinking about before she saw the wreck?

a. Her weekend plans b. Breaking up with her boyfriend

c. Driving off the road into a ditch

3. Why couldn’t the mother get out of the car?

a. The door was jammed shut b. There wasn’t enough time

c. Her seat-belt was stuck

4. What music did Danielle play for the children in her car?

a. Disney Sing-along b. Classical music c. Kidz Bop

Section three:

Long response- please write a 5-6 sentence paragraph

1. Who do you think was rescued in the story? Explain why.

End

Notes: As part of tutoring a middle schooler in English, I made up a series of sentences for her to practice diagramming. I used the sentences to create a simple story about a girl deliberating about going to the grocery store or a movie. It reminded me of the time an English teacher I had in high school designed a multiple choice reading comprehension test that followed two story lines - one was the correct one, the other he made up.

The idea of attempting to tell a story in the form of a test appealed to me, and this is the result. Like the English test I once took, there are multiple directions the story can be taken in, though the overall plot remains the same. I leave it to you to decide the finer details of the story.

(And in case you're wondering, yes, I did create - but didn't write down - the story I made this "test" for. And yes, I know what the answers are for the story I originally imagined. And no, I'm not going to tell you what they are. Use your own imagination.)

The Reality of Procrastination

2010-06-14T21:46:00.001-04:00

There are a lot of people who say they work best under pressure, and that's why they procrastinate. And maybe that's true and maybe it isn't. But I do know that I do most of my work under pressure because I procrastinate, and that procrastination is a viscous cycle for me.

Over the years, procrastination has become my coping method of choice. When deadlines starts looming, work starts piling up, and I start to feel overwhelmed, I deal with it by doing something else. There are certainly worst ways to cope with stress, but it still isn't very healthy.

I've honed procrastination to a fine art this past year, as I deliberately avoided working on grad school applications until they were due, put off finding an place to live until the last minute, and only tonight checked to see when my classes start. The magnitude of the change I'm facing had me so overwhelmed that whenever I thought about it, the only way I could deal with it was to quickly distract myself with something else (usually knitting and TV).

But with deadlines looming over me, I finally reached the point where the stress I was causing myself by delaying was greater than stress I was trying to avoid. So this week I finally compiled a list of potential apartments for me to move to in the fall, and made plans to go visit them. I also checked all the important dates I need to know as I get ready to plunge back into school.

And this evening, I made a huge breakthrough in regards to my procrastination problem. I've been working on reviewing all the Greek and Latin grammar that I'll need for grad school, and while looking at dates, I suddenly became overwhelmed. There wasn't enough time for me to learn everything I needed to learn.

As I started to feel overwhelmed, I found myself picking up my spindle and heading over to the TV. Then I stopped myself. I put my spindle down, and picked up my Ancient Greek book, sat down at the table, and went to work reviewing my noun cases (and rediscovered why Greek desperately needs a separate ending for ablative cases).

Because even while I was taking procrastination to new heights, I was discovering something else: It just isn't worth the stress.

So, if you'll excuse me, I now have a well earned date with my spindle and Doctor Who.

P.S. You've probably noticed I changed my blog design. Thought I'd make it match the quotation at the top :)

The Big 2-0-0

2010-06-11T23:46:00.000-04:00

I realized yesterday that today would be my 200th post. I thought about what to do to make it special, and after thinking it over, and talking with my two most loyal blog readers (my grandmothers :) ) I've decided to present my top 10 favourite/most significant posts. I've summarized each one a little, so you can decided ahead of time if you want to read it :)

Comment Challenge: I know you all don't like to leave comments, but I'd be interested to know just how long you've been following my blog. Just leave the number of years, months, weeks, or days (specify which) in the comments. Thanks!

(in chronological order)

1. Good Morning, Dave

While far from spectacular, on Thursday, Oct. 25, 2007, this post marked the beginning of my blog.

2. Costwold Way, Part 1 and Part 2

The reason I started this blog was to have a way to stay in touch with friends and family while studying in Oxford. One of the most memorable parts of my time in England was hiking the 100 mile Costwold Way (and it wasn't just memorable because it led to the discovery of my knee injury that still plagues me today)

3. River Rats and The Continuing Adventures of the River Rats

What most defined my time in Oxford was the friendships I forged there, and nothing forms friendships faster than falling into the river.

4. On Leaving Oxford

Making a life overseas is hard...leaving it is harder.

5. Blog

The post where I decided to continue my blog, even though it would no longer serve its original purpose. And now you know the rest of the story.

6. Hybrid Runner

This post marked a new direction in my life. From here on out, I stopped hesitating to answer 'yes" when peopled asked if I was a runner.

7. New Year's Resolution

My life has seen a lot of changes throughout my time blogging, both in where I am physically, and where I am spiritually. But as I prepared to leave college and enter who-knows-what, I made a resolution to not worry about tomorrow. Things didn't quite work out the way I'd thought they would when I wrote this post, but I still stand by what it says.

8. Home is Where

I've moved a lot in the last several years of my life, and traveled even more. And when you bring your heart with you wherever you go, and always leave some of it behind, it can be hard to hold onto a concept of "home".

9. 2009

I summarized my past year but, more importantly, this is the post where I decided to blog three days a

week.

10. 'Twas the Night Before Easter

This poem meant a lot to me when I wrote it, and still does.

Going back through my old posts was like seeing a flipbook of my life. It made me realize just how much I've changed - and just how much I haven't. Thank you to all of you who have joined me in my journey. I look forward to many more adventures with you.

Tree Thoughts

2010-06-09T19:35:00.000-04:00

It’s the silence that will kill you.

I could stand still for days, months, years, content to just move with the wind in my branches.

But to hear it, to hear it all – the birds, the ants, the whispers of lovers – to hear it and not be able to tell – that’s what kills me.

***

When they were younger, they would listen to me. Would wrap their warm, soft arms around my trunk and press their ears against my bark. They were listening for my breath, they said, or my heartbeat. My song.

Or laying on their back on a windy day, arms tucked under their heads, they would listen to my leaves and call out the poems they heard in them.

***

But they are older now. And no one listens to a tree.

How to Knit 1/2 a Blanket in 2 Months (and keep it secret)

2010-06-07T21:36:00.000-04:00

When my roommate from college called to say she was getting married in two months, I promptly called our other roommate with a simple question: "How long will it take you to knit half a blanket?" Of course knitting it is one thing, but keeping it secret is another. My roommate reads my blog from time to time (*waves*), which has my Twitter feed on the side. Of course, she is my friend on Facebook and, to top it off, is friend on Ravelry (think Facebook for knitters- only better).

So, should you wish to this crazy undertaking, here's how it was done.

1. Find a pattern that can be knit in pieces (i.e. that can be knit by two different people living in two different states). We used this mitered square pattern, with half the number of stitches.

2. Knit everywhere. Movies, lunch breaks at work, in the car (not while driving), everywhere. And bring your yarn everywhere too.

3. Do not mention your project on any of your social media sites. If you happen to have a blog where you talk about your knitting once a week, come with lots of topics so no one notices that we haven't talk about what you're actually knitting for two months.

4. Keep knitting (you want this to be a blanket, not a placemat).

5. If anyone who has a social media connection to you sees you knitting, and asks what you are making, lie. Or swear them to secrecy.

6. Continue to knit (this needs to be a blanket, not a bath towel).

7. Do not let anyone with a blog capture an image of you knitting. (oops! I'm on the far left)

8. Keep knitting (grown-up blanket- not baby blanket)

9. Sew hundreds (okay-56) of squares together.

10. Meet up with your fellow knitter, sew the two halves of the blanket together, wrap, and present.

(pictures forthcoming Wednesday and Friday. Stay tuned.)

Another Break

2010-06-02T22:27:00.002-04:00

Because I have to live life to have anything worth blogging about.

Between the end of the school year for my students, and getting ready for my friend's wedding this weekend, it's unlikely I'll be posting this week.

So, here's wishing you all a wonderful week and weekend!

Paying my Debt

2010-05-30T17:09:00.000-04:00

This is the post I owed you on Wednesday (well, Thursday too). I was going to follow it with a nice long explantation about what I was trying to do with it, but then I figured it'd be more interesting to see what you thought I was doing with it. So, don't make me beg, but seriously, I'd like your feedback in the comments. This isn't meant to be anything deep or fancy, just a bit of experimental flash fiction; a way to challenge myself. And I'm curious to know what does and doesn't work.
P.S. None of these names are of people I know- I made them up.

Saving Face

Meredith Pelgic tried her best after last night, but is giving up. Leslie Master, Nancy Turner, Abagail Collins, Taylor Rigdon

9 hours ago • Comment • Like

< 3 people like this

Amy Daniels Oh no! Meredith, what happened? Is everything okay?

9 hours ago

Abagail Collins hee hee ribbit ribbit

9 hours ago

Amy Daniels ribbit ribbit???

9 hours ago

Leslie Master Sometimes you just have to move on. Good call.

9 hours ago

Amy Daniels What is going on here? Are you okay Meredith?

8 hours ago

Katherine Reynolds Not sure what happened, but I’m sure it will work out in the end :)

8 hours ago

Taylor Rigdon Disagree (1) Giving up to easy, Mer. (wish there was a ‘dislike’ button. Had to revert to Rav. Instead ;)

7 hours ago

Nancy Turner Knot going to try again? ;)

6 hours ago

Katherine Reynolds Amy Daniels I think this is about knitting.

5 hours ago

Meredith Pelgic Yep, Katie, it is. Sorry I made you worry, Amy. Just had a chance to get back on FB.

5 hours ago

Amy Daniels I was really worried! :( Glad its all ok :)

5 hours ago

Sharing

2010-05-28T21:55:00.000-04:00

If there is one thing I think every knitter loves, it is being able to share their art with someone else. Today, I had the opportunity to share knitting with not one, but nearly 40 someone elses.

After a year of watching me knit, many of the students I work with wanted to learn themselves. I wanted to be able to give them everything they'd need to keep, so I decided to teach them to finger knit instead of knitting with needles (I have a lot of needles, but not enough to give them away). I asked my knitting group for any yarn they didn't want, and them spent several nights with my Mom's help winding Red Heart Super Saver (aka, the yarn no one wanted) into balls for the students to use.

The first step of finger knitting is to make a slip knit, and I quickly realized that teaching a large group of students how to tie a slipknot is rather difficult. So I just had them tie the yarn on their index finger. It took most students two or three tries to get the hang of the technique, but once they got going, they didn't want to stop. Several were able to finish a scarf during their class period, and many of those who didn't finish in class did so during lunch.

One great thing was that it wasn't just the girls that were interested in learning. At least one boy in each class joined out impromptu knitting circle. Other students, who initially felt they were too cool to knit, slowly made their way over throughout the period, and eventually decided that maybe knitting wasn't so bad after all.

But perhaps the best thing was the pride the students took in their work. Every single student who finished a scarf wore it the rest of the day. And those who didn't proudly showed off the progress they had made to their classmates.

I'm not really sure how to bring this post to a conclusion. I don't think learning how to knit is going to drastically change anyone's life. But then again, knitting is what led me to meet my best friends in college, and what kept me going this summer. So maybe, somewhere along the line, these students' lives will be different. Because they know how to knit.

The Brilliance Will Have to Wait

2010-05-27T21:19:00.002-04:00

I know, I said I'd have a brilliant post for you today, but I'm so beat I can barely string together a coherent thought. I owe you one.

Going to the Magic Game!

2010-05-26T19:32:00.000-04:00

So no post tonight (except this one). But I have one in my head for tomorrow. It's a brilliant one. Promise.

Believing in the (Orlando) Magic

2010-05-24T21:52:00.000-04:00

I am not a sports fanatic. Oh, I can follow most sports games pretty well (even football, thanks to my years in marching band), but I've never been one to watch a game when I can play one. That being said, I have always been a loyal follower of the Orlando Magic, and can remember the days of Penny, Grant, and Shaq.

The last couple of years have been a resurgence of that old Magic team I remember, and it has been exciting to share the games with my friends and family. I love watching my Mom cheer the players on from our living room, and my Dad and brother yell at the ref. Even I join in on jumping up and shouting for a good play.

This year has been especially fun, as my family found ways to make sure we never missed a Magic game- even in Seattle and Canada. Our first night in Seattle, we hunted down a sports bar to watch the second game of round two of the playoffs. When we went back in the afternoon for game 3, the same waitress who had seated us the first time was there. "Magic playing again?" she asked, then set us up at a table with a clear view of the TV showing the game.

Game 4 happened to fall on the same day as our trip to Canada, and we had come to grips with the fact that we were going to miss it (a hard fact for my Dad and brother), when lo and behold, what do I see as we walk into Victoria, but a sports bar attached to a hotel.

We went in, but thought our luck may have run out when we saw that a hockey game was on, and Canada was playing. But, figuring we had nothing to lose, my brother went up to the bar to explain the situation (and thus proved that Orlando Magic fans can in fact be as loyal as Canadian hockey fans), and they agreed to put the game on one little TV in the back.

So, here we are, in game four of the final round of playoffs, Orlando vs. Boston. The record is 3-0, Boston. I'm not going to make any claims, or predictions (I'm superstitious in two areas of life- theatre, and sports), but I will say it would be great to see one last game in the Amway Arena (I remember when it was the Orlando Arena). And, though I may well be eating these words, I admit that I still believe in the Magic, and I also believe that just because something has never been done, it doesn't mean it can't be. And if you don't get what I mean by that last sentence, I'm not explaining. Superstition, you know.

Untangled

2010-05-22T14:41:00.000-04:00

Another knitting-as-a-metaphor-for-life post (sorry)

Last night I was untangling things, both literally and metaphorically. Nothing particularly bad happened yesterday, but a lot of little things that have been building up for a while reached the tipping point, and I just couldn't handle it any more.

Normally, when I'm upset, I turn to knitting, but I'd just finished a project, and really didn't have the motivation to start another one.

I remembered the the giant tangle I had made when trying to wind my own yarn, and while normally untangling yarn just makes me frustrated, for someone reason, the idea appealed to me.

So I pulled the tangle into my lap, and bagin to pick at it, gently teasing out strands, and following loops to their starting points. And the strange thing was, while I was working out the yarn tangles with my hands, my other tangles were being worked out in my mind.

There is still a knot in the yarn. It's much smaller than the one I started with, but is also more complicated to figure out how to undo. The tangle in my mind is much the same way. I've gotten the little knots out of the way, and am now face to face with the real issues. But now that I can see them, I know I can untangle them too.

Two Roads Diverged...

2010-05-19T21:36:00.000-04:00

The other day I was catching up with a friend, and talking about how my decision to go to graduate school was harder than I'd expected.

I've worked hard to make myself a life here this past year, and the thought of leaving it is a little saddening, especially when it comes to leaving the students I've been blessed to work with. Whenever I'd previously talked about how I like to teach, I'd say that I'd be willing to work with any age group- except middle school. So, of course, when I went job hunting after college, the only teaching opportunity that presented itself was at a middle school- the very same one I'd gone to.

Since then, twice a week, I've worked as a middle school tutor and made a surprising discovery. I love it. And I love my students. The age group- confused and overwhelmed as they are- is wonderful. While the drama the students make their lives out to be can get old, I've learned to just smile at it, and appreciate the potential I see in them.

So, why the title of the post? It's a line from a "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost, a poem referenced several times in my conversation with my friend. We discussed decisions, and what it meant to have free will, and if choices are always either right or wrong. If, when faced with a decision, one choice is always God's plan, and the other not. And what I realized is that perhaps what it means to have free will is that sometimes we have decisions where both choices are right.

Going to graduate school is no more a "right choice" for me than staying here and getting my teaching certificate is. But it is the choice I've made. "And that," to quote Frost, "Has made all the difference".

And since it's Wednesday, I owe you a bit of creative writing. The following is a poem I wrote in college in response to "The Road Not Taken".

The Woods: In Retrospect

In these long forgotten woods I stand,

A changed man from when I last passed by.

Remembered roads lead from either hand;

One leads to lonely, now well-traveled land,

The other once dismissed with a sigh.

Was there so much virtue to be found,

In a road not used by other men?

Did I think their judgment so unsound,

That by walking on less trodden ground,

I’d ensure I’d never fall again?

Should I choose to go a different way,

Having now another choice to make?

And take the well worn path, come what may,

And to learn what others have to say;

Though I think the past was no mistake.

Others know lessons already learned,

Teachings I could never find alone.

And if their lessons I choose to spurn,

Then so by falling, my fate I’ve earned,

This, the cost of walking on my own.

Seattle in 10

2010-05-17T21:54:00.000-04:00

A few days I got back from a wonderful family vacation in Seattle, Washington with a day-trip in Victoria, B.C. Since then, I've trying to figure out how to condense a weeks worth of adventures into one post. So, I've decided to make a list of the top 10 things my family did. I was going to order this list, but decided that I didn't feel like trying to rank everything.

1. Woodland Park Zoo- My brother is a fan of Animal Planet's Meerkat Manor, so when we saw that the Seattle Zoo had a new Meerkat exhibit, we knew we had to go. It was a great zoo, and had more the feeling of a nature walk than an exhibition of animals in cages. The best part, though, was watching my brother. He wanted to see everything! We'd expected to make a quick hour trip of it, but stayed nearly three hours. My favourite animal was the Siamang, a monkey that mates for life and sings duets with its mate. We were fortunate to run into a student who was studying the zoo's Siamang pair, and told us the story behind them.

2. Seattle Aquarium- Beautiful is one of the words that comes to mind. The Seattle Aquarium showcased some of the most gorgeous sea-life I've ever seen- and a lot of it was native to the Seattle area. Like many of the places we visited, the aquarium was also very eco-friendly.

3. Underground Tour- Seattle is a city with two layers- one in top, and one underneath. This joke and pun ladened tour took us through the underground part of the city while giving a brief history of Seattle. It was hard to follow sometimes, but very cool, and entertaining. Rated PG for mild language.

4. Victoria, B.C.- We took the Victoria Clipper over to this beautiful island. I enjoyed just walking around and seeing everything, but my favourite thing was a wonderful yarn store called Knotty by Nature. They were very friendly, and let me try out a one of their spinning wheels! First time spinning on a wheel, and I have to admit, it was harder than I thought. I bought so local fibre there, and I think I'm going to save it till I have a wheel of my own. The highlight of our visit, however, was finding a sports grill and convincing the manager to turn off hockey on a tiny TV in the back and put on the Magic game.

5. Pike Market- pretty much the must-do tourist thing in Seattle, the abundance of unique shops still made this a worthwhile visit. And, of course, we bought a fish.

6. The Original Starbucks- We're not a big Starbucks family, but the original Starbucks was just down the street from our hotel, and the only coffee place that opened early enough to meet my family's early morning caffine fix. Every morning of the trip my Mom and Dad enjoyed a Cafe latte, my brother had a Carmel Macchiato, and I savoured a Chai latte.

7. Shopping- Besides the actual market, there is some excellent shopping in Seattle- and I don't like shopping. We found a wonderful antique store, where my Dad and I both bought hats.

8. Pensione Nichols- Modled after an Euroupean Bed and Breakfast, this is where we stayed. We'd only planned to stay there one night, but ended up staying the whole trip in the family sized suite (the one bathroom was a bit challegeing). It was noisy at night, but worth it for the location- literally around the corner from Pike Place Market. And the information and help we received from the manager (I think) Rich, was alone worth it.

9. Cooking in- Our last night in Seattle, we decided to take advantage of our kitchen. My Mom and I had a wonderful time sampling wares in the Market, and putting together a meal of fresh produce and even fresh garlic noodles.

10. No computer- I have to admit- this social media butterfly enjoyed being disconnected for a while. I admit to checking Twitter a few times, and to using my parents' iPhone to look up yarn stores, but it was nice to take a break from the hectic pace of the online world I work in.

Sorry for typos. I'm too tired and lazy too proofread right now.

Writing Workshop

2010-05-05T21:51:00.000-04:00

One last post before I go out of town and have limited internet access.

While reading Thomas Thorspecken's blog about a month ago, I saw a sketch he'd made at a writing workshop. The thought of attending such a workshop appealed to me, so I followed his link to MAD about Words, and saw registration was open for a workshop in Flash Fiction. Not sure what that was, I googled it and discovered that flash fiction is fiction in 1,000 words or less- which is about 80% of what I write anyways. It seemed like a perfect fit for me, so I signed up.

I really enjoyed the workshop, and the opportunity to be with other people who took their writing seriously. As part of the workshop we were asked to write on separate slips of paper a word, an emotion, and a frame for a story (post-it notes, a letter, sitting at a diner, etc.). Then we mixed them up and picked one for each category. I drew "invasion", "judgmental", and "the song you never heard". Then we were told that the word was the title of the story, the emotion the tone, and we had to write within the given framework. We had just under an hour to write a piece of flash fiction.

At first, my frame gave me some trouble. Should I write song lyrics? But then it would be that a song that was heard. In the end, I came up with the following. Enjoy! (203 words, by the way)

Invasion

She finally relaxed, letting the music wash over her, taking comfort in the empty a seat to her left and the torn up ticket on the sidewalk.

Now she could breathe again. There was no guilt, just peace. The concert had been her idea anyway, and now she could enjoy it. Could enjoy everything.

She closed her eyes as the music built up, louder and louder, taking her heart with it. Then, with a final crash, it faded into silence, into peace. And so did she.

***

He came out of nowhere. Must have snuck in while she was in the bathroom. Because when she returned after intermission, there he was, grinning.

“You know, they keep everything on computers these days. You don’t need a piece of paper to get in. Just your ID.

She didn’t answer. She would have to climb over him to get to her seat. Was it worth it?

“Look, I just want to talk, OK? Let’s enjoy the rest of the concert, then go somewhere quiet.”

She shook her head. She was done with talking, done with it all.

The orchestra was warming up again, getting to begin their next piece, She left before it started.

Cleaning

2010-05-03T21:18:00.001-04:00

I’ve explained to people before that the state of my room often reflects the state of my mind. Some people, upon hearing this, and seeing the mess that my room often is, are sometimes concerned. To them I want to explain; I can and do exists quite happily in the messy disorganized state my room appears to be in. When I clean it up, it is not so much for myself, but so that others can make sense of the mess. Writing is my mental equivalent to cleaning my room. I won’t deny that sometimes it’s nice to find a book or a thought exactly where I last left it, but I can always find it in the end. And sometimes, the search is even more fun that the discovery. How boring, if everything was always where I thought it was! I’d never find anything new.

That being said, my room is currently a disaster zone, and I'm afraid I can only blame so much of it on entropy. I have a lot of cleaning and organizing to do, both in my room and in my mind. I'm going on vacation this week, and I hope packing will take care of my room and resting will take care of the rest of me. I'll try to post while I'm gone, but I'm not taking my laptop, only my iTouch (loaded with 6 episodes of Doctor Who, a small library's worth of books, and a chess game that can either be one or two player- and of course all my knitting apps).

All of which is to say, I may or may not be posting for the next week. Also, I'm working on developing an idea I had the other day, and I'l hopefully be able to share it with you all in the next couple of weeks. Hope you're up for a challenge :)

Over and out.

Why I Knit

2010-04-30T22:44:00.000-04:00

"Knitting [...] was a comfort to the soul. It was regular, it was repetitious. And, in the end, it amounted to something."

-Jan Karon (At Home in Mitford)

I almost feel like I could stop here, and let the above quote be my explanation for why I knit. It sums up in just a few words the beauty of the craft I've adopted as my own, without belittling it. A while ago, I wrote about how I first learned to knit and the about the people knitting brought into my life, so I won't bore you by repeating that story. But I why I fell in love with knitting and spend so much of my time doing it, that story deserves a little explanation.

More than once I've heard fellow knitters describe knitting as mediative, and I must agree with them. There is something very soothing about the receptive motion of making a stitch. Whenever I am nervous or upset, knitting few rows will often take the edge off my feelings. When I'm feeling confused about something, or hurt, I pick up my needles. They don't have secrets; they are simple tools that allow me to create works that sometimes surprise even me.

While I often knit while watching TV, and love that knitting is an activity I can engage in while still holding a conversation, there are times that just sitting alone and in silence while knitting can be more of an escape for me than reading (which is saying something). I also find that, for me, knitting can be a spiritual activity. It settles my mind and clears away the inner turmoil, allowing me to hear that "still small voice". And when I'm not knitting for myself, I pray for the future owner of whatever I'm working on. May this scarf bring warmth, may this blanket bring comfort.

And, as the quotation also says, knitting amounts to something. It takes a simple piece of twisted fibre and creates something else- something greater. In a knitted piece, the whole is surely greater than the parts. I love the act of creating things in words, but can sometimes become frustrated when I can't bring a story to a proper conclusion, or my characters get away from me. In knitting, I have a definite end. A finished, complete project, with no trailing prepositions. There is something wonderful about that.

So in the end, I guess I just elaborated on the quotation I began with, because it's right. Ultimately, I knit because it is truly a comfort to the soul.

Miss me?

2010-04-29T19:34:00.000-04:00

I've been bad, I admit it. I've missed two days of blogging this week, and I apologize. I've been unusually busy and, as a result, not getting enough sleep, and decided that rest had precedence over blogging. I am, however, back to my regular self, and will resume blogging as usual on Friday. (that was a remarkable number of commas for just 4 sentences, wasn't it?)

Creative Gifting

2010-04-23T21:38:00.000-04:00

If you are a knitter (or any other kind of crafter) there will likely come a time when you start knitting all your gifts. Do this enough, and it becomes an expectation. Do this too much, and well, when deadlines get tight, you have to get a little creative (how do you nicely present one sock?)

Well, somehow or the other, my Mom's birthday snuck up me and the lovely...something...I was planning to knit her for the occasion didn't even get cast on. Instead, she got this:

I told her it was a gift of "potential".

So, what have you done when a project isn't finished (or even started!) on time?

Track Meet

2010-04-21T22:25:00.002-04:00

I've been helping coach middle school track, and the kids had a meet today. They did great, and I'm so proud of them, but I am beat. So, it's off to bed for me. I'll owe you a post.

67 Books Recap

2010-04-19T22:11:00.001-04:00

I want to start off by saying that Brian Feldman did an amazing job organizing 67 Books, from getting permission to use the Orlando Public Library's roof, to lining up sponsors to support the workers, volunteers, and readers. (You also should check out Thomas Thorspecken's post on 67 Books)

For those who missed my previous post, 67 Books was a project designed to bring awareness to National Library Week, and for 67 hours (the number of hours the library is open during the week) 67 readers read from 67 books (not all at once). I wish I could have been there all week, but I did manage to see quite a few readers live and several more online. I was also lucky enough to get to be one of the readers.

I asked you to choose which which book I should read from the roof of the library, and ended up with a tie between Madeline L'engle's A Ring of Endless Light and C.S. Lewis' Perelandra (I've blogged about this book before here). Since Amanda C. read Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time, I decided to read Perelandra.

Reading out loud is an unique experience in and of itself. If you haven't ever done so, I'd encourage you to try it. But reading out loud to an audience- that's a whole different story.

I read chapters 6-7 of Perelandra in my 1 hour time slot. Chapter 7 is where the main character, Ransom, encounters, in a sense, the Devil, in the form of a man named Weston. They engage in a philosophical dialouge, and it was that dialogue I wanted to read, both because I thought it was worth sharing and, to be honest, because I thought it would make for a dramatic reading.

But what I wasn't counting on was the impact reading it aloud would have on me. When I read, I tend to comprehend chunks of texts at a time. But reading out loud forced me to read each and every word, and as I read them, I found myself caught up in them like never before. I had always disagreed with Weston's arguments in chapter 7, but for the first time I found myself truly frightened by them.

I was actually startled to realize that I was standing on the roof of the library shouting "I am the Universe. I, Weston, am your God and your Devil". I wanted to stop reading and call out to the people walking by to stop and wait, because there was more they should hear, though I didn't.

It was an amazing experience, and while it may have been intended to impact the audience members, it truly impacted me. Maybe I'll make it point to slow down read out loud from time to time.

Pictures:

KnitGyver

2010-04-16T22:26:00.000-04:00

My Grandfather on my Mom's side of the family was a bit of a carpenter, and once built us this:

It's a winder for kite string, with a handle to hold onto. Ever since I've started buying yarn in hanks (as opposed to center-pull balls), I've been eyeing it. Surely, surely, I thought, there must be a way to convert this into a ball winder.

Now, I've had a swift for a while, and find it very useful for keeping my yarn from tangling while I wind it by hand. And, truth be told, I very much enjoy winding my yarn by hand. I feel like it gives me a chance to really get to know a yarn before I knit with it. But then I bought this beauty:

It's "Bamboo Fingering"a bamboo/cotton blend from The Great Adirondack Yarn Company in "Amethyst". It's soft, has beautiful, vibrant colours, and comes in 990 yard hanks.

990 yards! I like hand winding, but that is a bit too much. So, I decided it was time to try to Macgyver a ball winder.

I assembled my tools: Kite string holder, cardboard tube, plastic wine cork, hair ties, rubber-bands, and scissors.

And I put them together like this:

And started to wind. Sure, it was making more of a center-pull football than a center-pull ball, but it would work, and was going much faster than winding be hand. So, I put on a TV show, and happily wound away, checking my work every now and then. But not, it soon became evident, often enough.

Somehow, the loops of yarn started to slide under each other, and before long, I had this:

One big tangle.

I've managed to untangle most of it, and am now at the point that I know I can untangle the rest without sacrificing any of the yarn. Still, it was rather disappointing to have my little invention fail. I guess I'l be investing in a real winder soon.

Corporate 5k is tomorrow...

2010-04-14T22:18:00.000-04:00

So no post tonight.

Creativity on Demand

2010-04-12T22:12:00.000-04:00

Tonight, as I sat down to write this, I felt I had writers' block. Yes, I know some people deny the existence of writers' block, or at least discourage the use of the term, and I can understand their point, but the fact is, whether you're writing or doing something else, it can be very difficult to be creative on demand.

This difficulty is something I know pretty well, both as a blogger, and at my job. Working in social media demands a certain amount of constant creativity- if you turn it off, you risk losing your audience. And since in the business world your audience is often your customers, that's not a good thing.

Mind you, I don't think it's ever good to think of social media solely as playing to an audience. It's about connecting to people and interacting with them (see this blog post for my views on social media). But when you are acting as a company and not an individual, the divide between you and the people you interact with is greater, and there is very much a sense that your company is in the spotlight. And as everyone knows, when you're in the spotlight, you're expected to perform.

So how do you keep up a performance day in and day out? I think the most important thing is that you truly believe in what is you are presenting, be it a company, a product, or yourself. People crave genuineness, and that's something that can't be faked. If you have to fake it, you might as well give up now, because sooner or later you will slip up, and if you aren't genuine, you won't be able to recover.

Likewise, you should play to your strengths. I've sometimes been told that you should "write what you know" and I think this is a broader way of expressing the same thought. Are you good at understanding others? How about interpreting other people's ideas? Do people find you funny? Is your gift with words, paint, or some other medium? Find what you're good at, and let it shine.

But at the same time, it's important to be willing to step outside your comfort zone. In fact, I believe that its when you're outside your comfort zone that you're the most creative. It requires you to think on your feet, and to draw on all your strengths. Maintaining creativity is about finding a balance of pushing what you're capable of without going so far that you fall off the edge.

I'm not sure where I'm going with all this, except that I sat down to write today with no topic on my mind. I do know the challenges of having to be creative even at times you don't feel like it, and will be the first to admit that I sometimes (okay, often) fail to rise to the challenge. That being said, a lapse in creativity can be forgiven; a refusal to be genuine can not.

(I really need some sort of tag-line to end my posts with)

Socks

2010-04-09T23:03:00.001-04:00

You know you have too many projects on the needles when...you've run out of needles to put new projects on. Which is where I found myself about a month ago. So I made a promise. No more starting new projects until I finished what I had already started. And I've done pretty well. Until this week.

No, I didn't break my promise- I've not started anything new, despite a bag of yarn waiting to become a sweater, and a beautiful bamboo blend waiting to be wound. But I've also barely done any knitting. Why? Because I have three projects left: K's hat, the Acorn Hat, and my college roommate's other sock.

Now the Acorn Hat, I willingly admit I'm avoiding because I'm done with the knitting part and just need to sew it- and I don't particularly enjoy sewing (ask my Mom about all the half-finished sewing projects I left when I moved out for college).

But K's hat is a different story. I'm delaying on finishing that because once its done, all I'll have left to knit on is the sock.

It's not that it's a bad sock. I like the colour. I like the pattern. I think it works well, and I've already knit one, so I'm not overly concerned about any difficulties I might encounter while making it. It's just that...well...it's a sock.

Now, I know many knitters who constantly sing the praises of the Sock. It's small and portable, there is an endless variety of beautiful yarn made just for it, it knits up quick. But I just can't see it. I've made one pair of socks, three quarters of another sock, and the mate of the sock I'm currently working on it. I love sock yarn (who doesn't) and have no problem kitting in the round (I love making hats), and have no issues with small needles. And yet, inexplicably, I find that I absolutely cannot stand knitting socks. And so to paraphrase Catullus:

"I knit, I purl. Perhaps you ask why I hate to knit socks.

I do not know. I only know what I feel, and I am tortured".

P.S. "Sock" starts to look very odd if you type it enough times.

No Party Affiliation

2010-04-07T21:34:00.000-04:00

I submitted this as an opinion column to Mercer's student paper during the elections- it still seems appropriate today.

My Democratic friends find me to be conservative, and my Republican friends think I’m liberal. I like to call myself moderate, and so when it came time for me to register to vote, the box I chose was “No Party Affiliation”. It’s a common misconception that people with “moderate” views don’t have strong opinions on political issues, but nothing could be further from the truth. I am very opinionated and extremely firm in my beliefs, as anyone unfortunate enough to be in hearing distance during one of my rants about the public school system can vouch. What I don’t believe in, however, is voting along party lines. On some issues, I take a very conservative view; on others my opinions are quite liberal. And on some of the biggest issues, I hold neither party’s view, but take an extreme middle-line stand.

It frightens me when I hear people define their political views as those of either the Democratic or Republican party. I have to wonder if such people are truly aware of the issues at stake, or if they blindly fill out their ballots the way their chosen party told them to. The truth of the matter is, America’s bi-party system allows an easy way for voters to be lazy by allowing people to believe they are performing their civic duty of voting, without first performing a much more important action – thinking. And as America becomes more and more divided between parties, the problem is just going to get worse.

Perhaps one of the saddest signs of the growing blindness of American voters is the invasion of religion not just into political issues, but into political parties. It is one thing for an individual’s religion to influence where he stands on various issues, but quite another problem when one is told that she must support such-and-such a party by a religious leader. With religion determining party lines, Americans just have one more excuse not to think before they vote.

At the root of the problem, I believe, is the fact that we only have two strong political parties. The natural result of this division is that in order to better challenge their opposition, each party is forced to take only extreme views on the issues that face this country. Either war is right, or war is wrong. Abortion should be legal, or it should be illegal. The Democrats must present the opposite opinion of the Republicans and vice-versa. Consequently, when it comes time for Election Day, voters only have a choice between two extremes or, as the saying goes, the lesser of two evils.

What I and, I imagine, other moderates would like to see is the emergence of a strong third party, one that reconciles many of the ideals and extremes of the Republicans and Democrats. There are, admittedly, many so-called “third-parties” already, but none of them have the political clout to challenge the two established groups. And so, for this presidential election at least, most American will be choosing to vote for the lesser of two evils.

Will I be voting in the upcoming election? Of course. Will I be voting for a moderate third-party? Sadly, no, because I know that such a vote will ultimately count for very little. But I’m still hoping that eventually a strong third-party will emerge. After all, who doesn’t like more parties?

Choose Your Own Adventure

2010-04-05T18:16:00.000-04:00

This post is for you...no, really, it is

I've been thinking about my blog lately. What started as a simple way for me to keep my friends and family up-to-date with my life while I was studying abroad has grown into, well, something else. And in a lot of ways, it's no longer my blog. This isn't a bad thing. I've always felt that once you've written something and shown it someone, it ceases to be solely yours, as the reader now has some ownership in it. And as my blog now has readers (more than ever before), I think it's time you had some ownership in it.

So, I'd like to ask for your feedback on my blog, what works, what doesn't, what you would like to see more/less of, etc.

To get you started thinking, I've come up with a few questions you can answer if you're so inclined.

1. What topic(s) do you most like reading about that I currently write about (e.g. knitting, running, poetry, stories)?

2. What subjects would like to see me write more about (e.g. philosophy, Classics, my activities, etc). Are there any new topics you would like to see?

3. What would like to see me write less about?

4. Would you like me have a day where I let you (the readers) pick the topic I write on (options include adding another blogging day to my week, posting on reader topics on Monday, picking one day a month to write on reader chosen content, any other ideas you might have).

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my blog, and I look forward to reading your feedback!

P.S. Perelandra and the Iliad are currently tied for which book I read from the roof of the library- if you haven't voted, please do so :)

'Twas the Night Before Easter

2010-04-03T09:45:00.001-04:00

‘Twas the night before Easter; I thought it a poor lot,

That Christmas should have a poem, while Easter did not.

So I took up some paper and took up a pen,

And set about writing that I might make amends.

I wondered ‘bout the difference ‘twixt the Holidays,

That one was quiet, and the other a mad craze.

Santa has stockings, and wild preparations;

Easter is greeted with a few decorations.

At Christmas the presents are stacked under the trees,

You’re able to find them and open them with ease.

At Easter there are eggs hidden out in the yard,

For just a little candy you search pretty hard.

But surely Christmas and Easter are about more

Than just Santa and Bunnies and other such lore.

Surely I can find out some deep hidden reason,

To explain the difference between the two seasons.

In the dark of Winter, Christmas promises Life,

A season of hope amidst a season of strife.

And along with the advent of the Savior’s birth,

Comes tidings of peace, of goodwill, joy, and of mirth.

Easter is in the Spring when all the world flowers,

A time to rejoice in the Life that is ours.

And when the dark Death of Winter is left behind,

A new kind of rebirth is promised to mankind.

For though Christmas starts with birth, there is Death to come;

In the end it’s Easter that is Death overcome.

For the Life of Christmas lasts for just a short time,

But the Life that Easter brings is forever thine.

So while the Christmas celebration can be wild,

Leaving Easter, in contrast, to seem rather mild,

I believe that I can say without any doubt,

Easter, my friend, is what Christmas is all about.

Tradition

2010-04-02T22:21:00.002-04:00

In the almost four years I've had this blog, I've posted the following story every year around Easter. So I figure by now its not so much repetition as it is a tradition. So here, for those of you haven't read it, is an Easter story. I wrote it, but the original idea came from a Bible Study I went to in college.

The Prisoner

Late that night, even after the man was taken down from the cross, the prisoner

Matthew 37:20-23 NRSV, emphasis added

²⁰Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. ²¹The governor again said to them, ‘Which of the two do you want me to release for you?’ And they said, ‘Barabbas.’ ²²Pilate said to them, ‘Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?’^* All of them said, ‘Let him be crucified!’ ²³Then he asked, ‘Why, what evil has he done?’ But they shouted all the more, ‘Let him be crucified!

Digging through my old poems...

2010-03-31T22:42:00.002-04:00

...I came across this. It seemed appropriate for the Easter Season.

Selah

Though my heart refuses

And my mind resists,

Though it seems my very being

Reviles at what is being asked—

Though I cannot be humble

And I swell with pride,

Though society says I am wrong,

This is my vow today—

I will not, not I say,

Refuse grace.

Let my pride burn

Where I belong.

Let me not forget

What I deserve.

I will not, not I say,

Refuse grace.

I will let the door be held open.

I will take what is offered.

I will accept what is freely give.

I will remember this is not about me.

I will not, not I say,

Refuse grace.

Selah

Crazy Week

2010-03-29T22:37:00.000-04:00

This has been a busy week for me, though a good bit of it was spent driving. Mercer (the university I went to) was having a conference on ancient political philosophy, and part of the conference had a panel of five students presenting papers. At the last minute someone backed out, and since my senior honors thesis fit the topic, I was asked if I would come present it.

I agreed, and had a wonderful time reacquainting myself with Mercer. It was home to me for four years, and I had a very real sense of homecoming from the moment I set foot on campus. It was a homecoming to the place, yes, but also to the environment. From my arrival Wednesday afternoon to my departure late Thursday night, I heard 12 papers presented and presented one myself. And while that is a lot of information to take in at once (I was a bit brain-dead by the end of it), the sense of rightness I felt was wonderful.

I’ve learned a lot of things since graduating, good things that I’m glad I had the opportunity to learn. But it has also been a hard time for me, and I missed being in halls of Academia with a kind of hunger. To go from naught to a full day of philosophy was like sating my thirst by diving into an ocean.

To leave you, a thought from Alexander Pope:

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.

Limited Internet Acess

2010-03-24T17:23:00.000-04:00

I'm up at Mercer Uniersity today and tomorrow to present a paper, so I won't be able to post properly. In the meantime, if you haven't already, go ahead and cast your vote for which book I should read from the roof of the library.

Cheers!

67 Books

2010-03-22T20:05:00.002-04:00

I am inordinately excited to have been selected as a reader for 67 Books, a project that corresponds with National Library Week. What does being a reader mean? It means I get to stand on the roof of the library and read out-loud from whatever book I choose (within the libraries catalogue) for an hour. I'm actually surprised at how much I'm looking forward to this, though I suppose that's a natural response from someone who spent the greater part of her childhood halfway up a tree reading a book.

But now that I have been selected, a difficult task lays before me. I must choose, amongst thousands of books, the one I want to read.

The task is both daunting and terrifying, and I must admit, I find myself quailing before the challenge.

And so, dear readers, it is up to you. What book shall I read? On the right is a poll where you can vote for the book you want me to read. I have fairly represented both the Greeks and Romans and literature and philosophy. I have also included a few my favourite more modern authors.

Just in case I have overlooked some tremendously good book (and I might be opening a can of worms with this one), you can write in a vote in the comments of this post (and this post only). However, I reserve the right to ignore write-in votes if I so choose. (You can vote and post a write-in if you wish)

Back on Track!

2010-03-19T21:29:00.000-04:00

After a few weeks of sporadic (which, by the way, is pretty neat word- Amy, etymology in the comments perhaps?) blogging, I'm back on track. Which means today is... Fibre Friday!

On and off the needles:

Knitting Olympic project, "Fireseed" (my own design)- Finished

"Cute as a Nut" Acorn hat (knitted on commission; my own pattern)- Finished...

...almost.

My friend's second sock (the first was given at Christmas)- We aren't talking about it

My brothers girlfriend's hat- coming along nicely (needs a better name, though)

A secret project that needs to be done by the weekend- Just started (and no picture- it's secret).

In other news, I feel like I have recently made a big step in my growth as a knitter today. Since I graduated, I have slowly but surely grown more confident about Knitting in Public (KIP). First, I started bringing my knitting to waiting rooms. Then, I startled my parents by knitting while waiting for food at restaurants. Finally, during a rather desperate period around Christmas, I started knitting in drive-thrus, and once even in church (this wasn't so odd, though. Another person knits in church every Sunday).

But until today, I never really felt liked I'd cross that line- the line that divides those of us who meekly whisper "yes, I knit," and those who stand on table, thrust their needles in the air, and proclaim, "I AM A KNITTER!.

Today, my friends, today, I knitted in a movie theatre.