I Dream of Radishes

It's a fine thing to dream and make plans, but it takes serious dedication see those plans through! I'm a procrastinator and a hoarder; so you can imagine how much I hate purging and getting ready to move. My desk is the most obvious spot to start. It alone has prompted friends to intervene. They mutter about crews of junk haulers as I steadfastly refuse to let anyone near it.

It's my mess I'll clean it.

I know it needs sorting, but the desk has been there a long time. This won't be easy.

One day at a time, one pile at a time, that's my plan. I know it'll take time, but we're planning on being here at least more 3-ish years. We want to clean out the front closet that only holds bags and outgrown winter wear, buy wire shelving and make that our pantry.

Then we'll have room to store preserves, and pickles, and gleaming jars of homegrown herbs. Not to mention that we'll be reducing the amount of stored "stuff" we don't use anymore. I'm hoping to have enough room underneath that we can put put our seasonal footwear and thereby help clean up the front hall.

There's a drawer in the dark wood dresser that needs gluing and nailing since it's nearly unusable now. I need to hit the hardware store this week for industrial strength glue.

The whole apartment needs a good coat of paint, but if we're only staying 3 years, why bother? It's not like I can paint it the colour I want anyway. Better to invest in the community garden that will feed us instead.

I dream of a garden ripe with peppers, tomatoes, strawberries, blueberries, beans and peas, carrots and sage, basil and chives. I wouldn't mind trying my hand at collards too, just to see if I can. Radishes, onions and maybe early gherkin pickles too.

I can almost taste them now.

First though, to find the desk.

Explanations, Plans and Survival, Oh My!

My last blog update was a little vague I suppose. I was trying to avoid the "the sky is falling!" screaming message. I guess I avoided it too well, because a few of you were in the dark.

So, this time, I shall explain, and my apologies for not being clearer, sooner.

It is no longer an extremist viewpoint that our society is changing, evolving and failing in many ways. Society no longer helps those who need a hand up. Not our fellow man, not our government(on any level). It is as though, for the most part, we are turning our backs on each other.

There are still some that try their damndest, don't misunderstand me, but by and large, we are not the society we once were.

Hurricane Katrina, the day the Twin Towers were toppled, the overwhelming number of homeless and working poor, I could list signposts until my fingers fall off. My point is that our world is changing. Hurricane Katrina made it abundantly clear that we cannot rely on others for our survival. We alone must wake up and take stock of our own situations. Now, I know that the liklihood of my neighborhood being devastated by a major hurricane are slim, but we did have a big power failure not long ago. We could still cook, and well, but our neighbors could not say the same. What about those who only had electric can openers? We were eating quite well. Breakfast on the BBQ, pizza, fruit...we were comfortable.

But all this brought us to the question of what if it were a longer power outage? What if it were some other crises that crippled our city? Both the American and Canadian governments have emergency preparedness pages on the web, so I didn't think we were too extreme.

We decided that if our little apartment could not sustain us for an extended period of time, and that's not realistically going to happen, we would have to look at going somewhere we could survive.

Mom's house.

It's a choice that makes sense for a lot of reasons, but the only way to get there if we had to would be to walk.

We have no vehicle and we AREN'T leaving our dogs behind!

So yeah, we'd have to walk it. Hence what I called The Great Migration, after The Land Before Time kids movie.

So, shortly after that last post, my friend Debra and I were talking on the phone about where I'd like to be if I had no obstacles.

Mom's house. Okay, anywhere closer to her and Dad and my brother would be nice!

"So why not move back?" she asked me

Money, logistics and the kids were the answers that came to mind.

The kids turned out to be the easiest solutions. Sort of. Jimmy was much more cool with it than I thought he would. Shandon was in shock and I'm not sure, but I think he's hoping we'll change our minds. Braydon is the tough cookie. This is the only home he's ever known. He does not do change well. Even less well than me.

He is the one I worry about.

But, in the meantime...

We start making plans, we take small steps now, we save what we can now (which likely won't be much for awhile) and we inch our way toward our goal. Which is to move in 3-4 years. After I get my print journalism degree. Another usable skill set besides retail. After Shandon is done high school. After we have had some time to ease Braydon into the idea of a move.

In the meantime, we keep an eye on the job market and home rental situation in Sault Ste. Marie.

We build a stockpile of canned goods and hand-powered can openers, candles and other supplies; just in case the shit hits the fan. In the meantime, we learn the skills that will keep us warm, fed and somewhat more comfortable if we have to make the Great Migration. In the meantime, Mom has said that we can plant fruit trees and such on her land. Things that we can all benefit from, things that will take some time to get established.

Survival "huh" moment of the week:

Did you know you can use jute twine as tinder? Simply unspin it, and gently separate the threads. To keep them really waterproof, melt some candle stubs down to a liquid wax, soak the jute twine lengths, remove and let dry on newspaper. Good for camping trips when you want to have a fast, strong fire until the wood catches.

Baby Steps

Since my last entry, we here have made a few inroads on getting ready for, as we call it, "The Great Migration"

We decided to call it that so that we can ease the two younger boys into the idea of walking that far without alarming them. They'll be busy objecting to walking 788 K, or roughly 489 miles, which will take roughly 2 months to walk.

Barring big delays, sickness and other assorted crises.

(I'm tired already)

We figure the eldest boy will settle back into walking just fine, and B and I have always enjoyed walking, so no problem there once our bodies settle back into it.

This morning we were looking at routes, and we think we have a rough one laid out.

Over the past few days we've been looking at equipment and supplies and skills.

We've learned that we have a fire tinder quite close at hand , and in copious supply. (Yay for jute twine!) It's an easy enough thing to wax it too so we have dry tinder no matter what the weather. We have emergency candles. We have one wool blanket and a crank flashlight.

Not much for now.

But we have been scoping out camping supply companies, sports equipment supply houses; seeing what's available and what's frivolous. we've been talking about how to keeps spirits up when the boys realize their Game Boys will no longer work as they're used to. Games, books and so on. Honestly, we would miss our iPods. But apparently we may not need to miss them too much. As a friend pointed out, ebooks and the like can be charged now by solar power. which means, in theory, so could the iPods and Game Boys. So we've looked into solar power sources. It may all be a temporary band-aid, but if it gets the boys north in a happier state of mind, then I'll invest in it. We've been doing a lot of talking about how much water we all need. We've learned about on-the-go water purification and storage.

We figured out that we may even be able to take out bikes up, instead of walking. This would cut down greatly on our travel time. Of course this also means a change in cost of the migration, weight considerations and a myriad of other things. So we're still talking about that one.

But our guts are telling us we'll be walking.

Realistically, what B and I are talking about doing, is taking a day even at this time of year, just striking out and seeing how far we can walk, in winter boots, until a certain time of day, and then figure out how far we walked.

My thought is that if we do this experiment in winter, wearing boots, we might have a fair idea of how far the two youngest boys can walk. Remember too, we'll have two dogs with us as far as we know.

So we'll look at doing that soon.

For now though, it's time to head off to the job that will pay for all this.

More tomorrow!

The Times They Are A'Changin'

Anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time, knows I am not an "extreme" personality.

I do not think extremes are healthy; for anyone.

But I believe in being prepared. For anything.

Once in my lifetime, I knew people I thought were extremists. They talked about the changing times, they bought batteries by the dozen, canned tuna and soup by the cases. They had an elaborate system of organizing their food, oldest products eaten first, dated and so on. Nothing expired. They had medications and antibiotics stockpiled, they made sure they were located close to water, away from major cities...all "in case".

At the time, I thought they were going a little over the top.

Years went on, I moved on, made a family of my own.

Then I woke up one day to watch how the horror in a major, American city unfolded. I watched a vibrant, lively city suffer, weep, die and decay. As horrified as I was at that, I was not prepared for the news coverage that showed a dead body washing up against a fence, in the backwash of a news boat. I was not prepared for that at all. I thought then, and still believe today, that the news media should never have shown such an image.

That was someone's parent possibly, someone's cousin, someone's sibling, daughter or son. That was once a human being.

And shocked, appalled and stunned as I was; I did learn something from the entire situation.

No matter how advanced our society is, our civic structure, our government can not always help us.

Yes, Hurricane Katrina was years ago. August 29th, 2005 saw massive flooding, which resulted in massive loss of life. The blame was eventually laid on the doorstep of the US Army Corps, who were responsible for the building and maintenance of the levees and floodgates. 80% of the city flooded, and much of that stayed flooded for weeks. The hurricane caused 7 million gallons of oil to spill into the water. Part of the cleanup involved dumping floodwater into Lake Pontchartrain for 43 days. That water contained raw sewage, pesticides, heavy metals, and bacteria.

When the hurricane left the city on August 30th, the people who had survived became desperate. There was excessive looting as people began to do whatever was necessary to get food, water, baby food and diapers, pet food and anything they thought they needed. The city was not prepared. There was a sharp rise in violent crime; rape, home invasion and so forth. It is a part of government responsibility, at all levels, to be prepared for disaster of all kinds; man-made and environmental. Part of the tragedy of New Orleans came about because the varying levels of government suffered from poor communication. FEMA claimed to have supplied over 700,000 applicants with emergency housing, but only one-fifth of that was actually supplied. All levels of government were criticized for poor response, much of the criticism came from the Mayor and Governor of New Orleans. There were deaths days after the hurricane had blown itself out, from thirst, starvation, exhaustion and dismal hygiene. There was poor planning on a civic level, where buildings and relief centers were concerned.

The Louisiana Superdome was designed for an occupancy of 800, but 30,000 arrived seeking safety. The New Orleans Civic Center was not designed as an evacuation center at all, but 25,000 arrived seeking safety, food and water.

So, what did I learn from this?

I learned that no massive structure can offer safety from death by dehydration, hunger or un-sanitary conditions. No government can protect us properly from Mother Nature when she's pissed. Rarely will a neighbor sacrifice to save another, but it IS possible. I learned too that people, generally, have a herd mentality. I also learned that man will turn on their fellow man in order to survive, to a great degree.

I learned that, essentially, we are all in this for ourselves first. Then, when we are comfortable, warm, fed and safe, THEN we have a responsibility to help our fellow man.

Do you know how you would accomplish this?

Neither do I.

So as of last night, Betty and I started thinking in a logical way about our own state of preparedness. We started looking at what we know how to do, what supplies we already have and so on.

I know how to skin an animal, I know how to make a fire. I know, in theory, how to acquire safe drinking water, although I've not yet had to do it. Betty has a firm grip on the physical aspects of what we'll need to keep us alive and fed, and hydrated, and comfortable.

We face some challenges, to be sure. We will not be ready for quite some time. We have to plan and prepare; but do it all rationally and calmly without shrieking about the sky falling around our ears.

And we will.

Hang on to your hats and rainboots as I take you along for the ride in the days to come.

An Awakening

I find it ironic that the things that make me want to blog always seem to happen at work, hours away from when I actually can blog. By the time I reach my computer, the urge is gone, or forgotten, or I am over whatever irritated me in the first place. No, I can't write it down at work, customer service in a store demands attention. Ironic. Lately it's been those very same customers that irritate me.

What happened to the golden age of manners? When we were all taught to recite even the most basic "please" and "thank you"? Once, I would have told you those that are joined to their cell phone were the worst, but that's not true anymore. Now I think that manners have slipped away for the most part because of people's attitudes towards their fellow man.

People don't care ... most of them.

If they did, they would look for someone behind them before they allow a door to close. They would put the cell phone down to ask for whatever it is they need. They would say thank you for whatever service had just been provided for them.

Now, granted, if I have just sold you a pack of cigarettes or a lottery ticket, or even a small pack of gum, it may be no big deal to you; but time was when interaction equaled manners. I say thank you, when I really mean "thank you for coming to my store, instead of that other one down the street". When I see my customer on two crutches coming across the parking lot, and I know he's coming to get his cigarettes, I go and open the door for him if I don't have a lineup in front of me. Because I know he appreciates the help, and it's the right thing to do.

He thanks me, and I know he is thanking me for my attention, and caring enough about him to help.

If I saw him at the mall, and I did not know him from a stranger and I had nothing to gain from the experience, I would open the door for him and hold it anyway.

Because it's the right thing to do. Because it is my job as a human being to help whoever I can.

So please, when you go about your daily lives, getting your coffee, gas or a loaf of bread, please think about the most basic of interactions, and remember that you really can change the course of a person's day with a simple "thank you".

I think I've grown a bit since my last post. I say this not to be egotistical, but as a way of exploring recent developments.

I have always been a spiritual person, just not in an obvious way. Lately, things are changing a little for me, helping me grow.

I am more aware of Spirit, the Universe, the Great Spirit, the POWER, call it whatever you like. I am getting more in tune with the elements, little by little, and spending more time inside myself. I feel the need to go out into the trees, get in tune with my drum again, pray from the midst of a creek, sit by a fire and feed it with cedar boughs and meditate in the dirt. I feel the need to connect with Mother Earth, the Grandfathers and Grandmothers, the Sky Beings and all the inhabitants of my Spiritual world. They bring me peace, and the older I get, I find I seek out and crave their peace more often. At the same time, I am driven to learn about other ways, not to change my Spiritual world, but understand another's better.

I will not turn my back on Owl while I learn about the Goddess. Learning about the elemental aspect of Wicca will help me to understand the bigger picture and see how similar our ways really are.

Through all of this, I have come to understand that not all change is horrible. Sometimes it is necessary to cut away the old growth to make room for the new bright shoots of understanding.

Sometimes we must travel through lessons we would rather avoid, to learn the hard truths. The truths that make us better, stronger and more resilient.

I would rather have avoided all the lessons, heartache and pain that my ex plopped into my world; but I still believe that at some point, my soul chose this general path for my life in order to learn from the experience.

I have always believed in reincarnation, even though I do not remember ever distinctly being told about it. I have always believed that our souls chose a general path before being born into each body; so that the soul can learn from each life and take the experiences back to the great body. The ancient Celts believed in reincarnation, according to the writings of Julius Caesar. Native people all over the world believe in the ability of the soul to be born time and time again. and of course reincarnation figures heavily in the beliefs of Buddists, Scientologists, Hindus, and the list goes on and on.

And this morning, while walking the youngest son to school, the thought hits me.

That's why I finish so few knitting projects.

It is not about the completion of a project; it is more about the stillness that the project brings my soul.

I do not want the stillness to be replaced by the anxiety of starting a new project, so I fear the finish.

Carolyn

Meet The Neighbors: Rage and Hate

I have known for a long time that there was danger in letting people in. Start to care about someone, and you're done.

It's over.

Any time I have listened to my gut, it has served me well.

When I did not listen, I was in danger.

Twenty one years ago, I did not listen to my gut.

I guess I had not developed the self-preservation skills enough to listen.

I jumped without thinking first.

And in the past ten years that leap has come back to bite me in the ass so many times I wonder why I ever did it.

Why did I marry him?

Some four or five years ago, I was astounded by a phone call in which he admitted to a grievous, unfathomable, horrible crime. There was a hard period of comprehension, acceptance, and a long period of trying to help... for the boys sake.

I should have listened to my gut that was churning in anger and betrayal.

I didn't. I kept trying to help.

I should have listened when the nightmares came back.

I didn't. I tried to tell myself that I was teaching the boys how to be better human beings.

I should have listened when he became a familiar lump on my sofa.

I should have paid attention when he got comfortable enough to reach for the remote and channel hop as if he belonged on my sofa.

I didn't.

He did not move in. I may have been naive, but I was not stupid.

When he got a home on the other side of the city, it was a relief.

When he moved back to Toronto, I could breathe easier.

And then the mail came. And kept coming. And finally I hit a point where I stood up and said "No more!"

I opened a letter from our government on day to find that they thought he lived with me, because his mail came to my address.

So that was the beginning of a fight to prove he did not live with me, and the end of his maildrop.

Things were quiet and predictable for a number of years.

When we did not get child support for an entire month, we started looking for him.

My gut began to churn when I was forced to admit that he had either lost another job, or he had been arrested again.

But some part of me wanted to believe that he had learned the first time.

I should have listened to my twisting gut.

But no, we made calls, sent instant messages....and that was Wednesday.

The Thursday before, Betty's father died, and we had a hell of a week.

And now this past Thursday I got a long distance call from his brother. He who never calls me had reached out this time to tell me that the Genius had been arrested again.

My gut flipped and turned to water.

"Do you know why?" I asked

"No, just that he's been in jail a month or so."

Now, why would Genius 2.0 not ask his older brother why he was in jail? In the back of my mind, I know something was fishier than a herring cannery, but I didn't push.

Instead, at the urging of a friend, I went digging the next day.

He was result number three in Google.

My eyes skimmed over the info, his name, his age... oh my god, his email address, oh my god, there's his instant messages handle...and my forehead hit the desk.

He was caught in a sting designed to catch people like him.

This crime was worse. More immoral, more slimy, more intending, worse than his prior conviction.

I wanted to sob, not because I harbor any feelings, because I have nothing but hate in my heart for him. I wanted to sob because I didn't see this one coming.

I wanted to sob for my shildren, because this story is carried on every major southern Ontario newspaper, website and sex offender list known to every frightened parent.

He had already been in jail a month.

On the first day of his children's new school year, he was caught by the police who keep children safe from people like him.

Right then, I wanted to throw up.

I still do.

I have learned from this. I have learned I am still capable of hatred. Pure, black, oily, stinking, putrid hatred that sits in the bottom of my gut. It keeps company with my rage.

They are neighbors that I thought I had worked through, but I doubt now I will ever be rid of them. I hate knowing both Hatred and Rage. I think of them as squatters that I may never be rid of.

I can only hope that Hatred and Rage will eventually be scorched by my new friends Hope and Love.

I have made new friends that accept me as I am; hatred, rage and all.

They don't know what a big step it was to open myself up again.

I can only hope that through this window I've opened again, only light and goodness come through.

Because I don't know if I can live with these oily squatters for the rest of my life.

Growth and Stagnation

Intentions.... No matter how hard I try to keep up with this blog, there is always a period when it gets away from me.

Ah well, here we are.

Where to start....

Since January there has been a lot happen, and not much happen, all at the same time.

I have knitted a bit. Trying to get the "Ocean" socks done for Boo, and I don't think he's going to fit them by fall, when he'll need them. At times like this, it astounds me how fast he's growing. I know I knit slowly but...! So Betty has suggested that I just finish them and donate them in the fall along with the hats, scarves and mitts I may have completed by then too. Unless I start a scarf soon, just for bus knitting, these socks may take everything I have. I have so many projects I'd like to do, knitting I mean, but I'll never get them done by fall, or even the beginning of winter.

Second Life is too ....intriguing. It calls to me, it sucks me in. It's hard to resist it's Siren's call.

Writing...

I have been getting some done. A couple of poems of the mystical sort. I've started a fiction piece, we'll see where that goes. I've started a friend's biography, not sure how far I'll get on that. I'd really love to get back to the "smart house" book, no idea where that time will come from.

I've gotten back into meditating too. That's going well. Found some music that helps and brings on the strangest feelings and visions....

Second Life...

I've made some interesting friendships in the past few months, solidified some friendships and let a few go their own way. Although I must say, it's been a hard lesson to learn that not everyone who starts off close will stay that way.

Growth...comfort...inner peace...drive...contentment...curiosity...ambition...service.

Yes, it's been an interesting few months.

The Secret Lives of UFO's. (Part 1)

It's a good thing that I don't rely on Wikipedia for a whole lot of knowledge. Because it hasn't got much to say on the subject of scarves.

A scarf is a piece of fabric worn on or near the head or around the neck for warmth, cleanliness, fashion or forreligious reasons. They can come in a variety of differentcolors.

That leaves so much unsaid.

Like how useful a scarf is, how it can either be a piece of garbage if made from the wrong yarn, or perfect if made in the right colour and from the most perfect yarn.

It also doesn't tell me why I love to knit them. I love to pick the right colour, depending on the recipient. I love to peruse stitch encyclopedias, looking for just the right combination of knits and purls that I can work on the bus. I love having scarves as a mindless project I can work on as the mood suits me. I love knowing I can change someone's life by knitting a scarf, as I try to do every winter , with knitting for my local homeless.

Why then has this poor scarf sat for so long?

Well, that's a good question.

It's a nice scarf, this photo doesn't do it justice. It is mint green, light blue and white variegated yarn, so soft that you just want to rub it on your cheek. I think of this one as "Sea Waves".

It's for Betty, who I know will use it and love it. It is knit on larger needles so she will have a lighter weight scarf that will tie easily, needles that are supposed to help me finish quickly.

Why then does it only see the light of day when I take it along to work?

I am trying very hard to finish it.

Push me.

Please.

Fantasy Follies Getting Closer!!

Good morning!

Today I want to wax poetic about my magazine. Okay, maybe not poetic, but I wanted to share these snapshots I took of our Fantasy Follies office, now that it's done. The one to the left is me toiling away by candlelight, I know you can't really see me, but trust me, that mass of black hair is me. Well, my avatar anyway.

Here's a better one of me. I think I was working on the Editor's note. It's a nice desk. A "partner's desk"

design, made of warm woods, with working drawers and everything. Not sure if you can make out the plate of gingerbread cookies and steaming mug of coffee there in front of me. On Chate's side of the desk is a goblet of eggnog. I think she'll like that when she gets back in-world.

Swinging around, I took a shot of our seating area. Also well stocked with cookies. Can you tell I like cookies? This furniture was made by my in-world partner, Fiona, with the exception of the large round table. That was made by Dalimar. You can't see the five or six ferns, or the cool printing press our friend and business partner Aly made. The sim of Elf Harbour is massive. There is a nautical theme, complete with a swamp, docks, a harbour masters house, a variety of monkeys scattered about and a sharp-toothed alligator.

Anyway, back to the magazine. At first, I wanted to release it Jan 1st. But that's not going to be possible. Most of my "help" has had to pull back, because of the holidays and health issues; so I'm on my own for a little while. This is going to affect how much gets done and likewise, when it gets done. In the next couple of days, I need to finish up two articles and prep two fiction pieces; one by Chate and one by Meadow. I also need to get the script to give the mag and prep the distribution box, drop a note to the owner of the magazine shop that will be carrying it, as well as the other folks I'd like to see house the boxes, finalize the contest, come up with a release announcement, finalize the ad rates, and last but not least figure out the damn printing press.... damn... maybe a Feb 1 release is more likely. Betty warned me that I might have to publish bi-monthly while I'm my only staff.

Sigh. Enough from me for now. Back to work!

Holiday Cheer!

Hello there!

How was your holidays?

It seems we had a whole lot of build up here as well as lots of happiness.

I was worried this Christmas would be disappointing to the boys; with money being so tight around here since I stepped down at work. Their lists were shorter than previous years, but still.

I had far too little sleep, only getting about 4 or 5 hours a night, but in the end... it turned out all right. Jimmy ended up walking across town to be home in time for Christmas morning, which was so touching I got all choked up. He actually woke me up, not the two youngest!

Despite the fact that the gift pile was smaller and not so spread out this year, they did alright. They each got at least one thing off their list, so it wasn't a complete failure. But I did learn the value of sticking to my plan of getting one gift per month, instead of all at once. No, that's not what we did this year, but that was my plan.

We had lots of food, we were all together and the boys, all three of them, seemed happy with what they got.

Yep, it could have been worse.

Second Life has been busy, what with holiday dances and whatnot. The picture up top was a small corner of the Bubbling Cauldron from last night's Victorian Ball. Betty and I decorated, according to the "vision" I had. I hosted and she was the Guide, joining two more folks to the Charn family. There has been my birthday party, the Yule ball, dances on top of dances...you get the idea.

And soon, on Jan 2 as a matter of fact, will be the Grand Re-Opening of Elf Harbour. Our friend and business partner, Aly, bought the sim and has done a lot of hard work to make it a memorable RP sim, over which our shop floats at something like 3000 meteres above "ground" level. Our store is huge. Absofragginhuge! On the ground, she has a swamp like area, a lighthouse, docks and other elements that make it seem more like the harbour it was always supposed to be. There are swampy trees, an alligator and a variety of monkeys hidden all over the sim. She even has a Harbour Masters house, a Main Hall and a couple of smaller buildings that I think she might rent out. All of the buildings look like something straight out of Rivendell in LOTR! They truly are stunning. In the main hall, on the main floor, there is a pub, complete with guard beagle, Talitha, where one can sit and have a drink. (Yes, we really hold the drink and have the action). There is a dance ball and a wickedly brilliant anchor chandelier. Upstairs, Aly has taken one wing for her office, and I have taken the other wing for my Fantasy Follies office.

This photo does not do it justice. It doesn't convey the calm classiness the room has, the movement of the potted ferns, it doesn't communicate how much I love this room. But it is where I like to go to work on the magazine. Aly has some great music in the stream, very calming. Which is good, because sometimes it drives me crazy! Especially trying to get content from iPages into Gimp, so I can save ads and stories as a texture, otherwise SL won't upload it. Stupid, I know. But we work with what we have. I wanted to get the magazine done for Jan 1, but I don't think that's going to happen now. The holidays have been too busy and I'm doing a lot of it myself. I need to find someone that can take the text and pages and put them into the format I need, then send it back to me; because that's where all my time is being taken up. Betty is right, unless I find some reliable help, I'm only going to be able to put the mag out bi-monthly.

Ah well, whining to you isn't getting it done any faster.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Six Days To Go!

Hello again, my friends! I assume someone is out there reading this.

Geez, I hope you are, or I'm doing all this for nothing!

On the assumption you ARE out there, how was your week?

It was an interesting one here at Casa de Taleweaver. Not work, it's bloody boring. But the moments in between were interesting. Our youngest son had his Christmas Concert, and he even put on a tie this year. He still has a problem with stage fright, but at least he was doing the actions and trying to sing along with his classmates. It went okay, all things considered.

We have a real Christmas tree this year; a fir. We aren't sure if I'm allergic to it, or if I'm allergic to all the cleaning we've been doing lately. (My vote is on the cleaning) Anyway, it's a very nice tree; balanced and full... and still not decorated except for the garland and lights.

The boys have my old computer in their room now, so the tree is the last thing on their minds.

I guess we'll be decorating tonight.

Things in SL are never boring either. Last night we attended the Charn Yule Ball. It was delightful, held outside and surrounded by silvery white trees and snow. Our good friend Azlyn DJ'd the dance, and she played some pretty great tunes. Quite a lot of our friends were there, all dressed in their formal finery. I know there were a lot of pictures taken. I'll share them when I get them. Oh! Speaking of pictures! We had ours taken with Santa last night as

well. Again, I'll share 'em when I get them. Our dear sister/friend Chate got family photos done for Christmas this year. Let me see if I can find one...

There!

Nice, isn't it? From left to right, Jita (Chate's daughter), me, Chate, Dalimar and Fiona (aka Betty in real life). Azavi Studios always does a great job! High fives to Kavi and Azlyn!

Our little family is going to be doing our gift exchange tomorrow evening, and I'm looking forward to it. Not for the gifts, but because we cannot always seem to get together when we'd like. It will be nice to just sit and catch up and relax.

On the knitting scene this week, It has become glaringly apparent that I need to get knitting socks and mitts. The boys are outgrowing socks faster than I can make them. I have a few socks scattered around the house in various states of completion, for various people that I have decided I am going to finish. So many things I want to do, so little time!

Hmm, maybe if I ask for a cloning machine, like Homer got in the Simpsons that one episode...

Then again, all my clones would want the computer to get on Second Life too...hmm...maybe clones isn't that great an idea.

Pass The Hot Chocolate!

Pass the Hot Chocolate!

It's winter! (No. Not in the picture over there <---)

Most of our province has some snow at least, some have 80 cm or more. We all have cold, Northern winds that freeze to the bone! Some parts of the country are under a cold snap so intense, the authorities are advising not to let pets out unsupervised.

What do Canadians do when it's too cold to play outside? We go inside!

Betty and I escape to Second Life. We've moved to Kymmer and no longer own land in Charn. Originally, it was mostly a financial decision. But as we've distanced ourselves from Charn, we've learned of some political issues there that we aren't thrilled with. Well, we're all entitled to our differences in opinion, so we sat back and re-thought our priorities. What did we want to do with our time in SL? What was fun, what pissed us off? Our friend and business partner once said "SL is supposed to be fun", and I have hung on to that, adding, "If it's not fun, it's time to change things" So we did. We moved, again, but this time to Kymmer, a sim owned and created by our friend and brother, Dal. (He's the dark, demonic looking fella in the picture) Betty now has her beach, which I have fallen in love with. We have the EXACT same house that was in the show Charmed. We now have horses. We have so much room to play in, and a workshop to build in that is simply IMMENSE! I cannot gush about Kymmer enough.

Dal has come a long way since we first met him, and he and I have had many conversations that are always enlightening in one way or another. I can't believe I'm saying this, because I swore I'd not move again, but I'm glad we moved.

So now I've taken on another project. I was bemoaning the lack of a good fantasy oriented magazine within SL one day when Betty said, "Then just make one yourself"

So I did.

There are many in-world magazines in Second Life, but as in real life, that doesn't mean they're all good. I have discovered a bit about myself in the process of creating the first issue. Apparently I have high standards, and apparently I really enjoy

becoming a magazine editor and publisher. So, the magazine is called

Fantasy Follies. Yep, that's the logo over there.

It's my hope that we will shine the spotlight on some of the best fantasy related items, performers, builders, places to live, shop and play. There's a wide range of things waiting to be written about, because everyone's idea of fantasy can be so different. Obviously, anything looking like anything LOTR is fair game, as well as high fantasy, low fantasy and, wait, what's low fantasy you ask?

According to Wikipedia, "Low Fantasy is a sub-genre of Fantasy fiction in which the setting is the real world with the addition of fantastic elements. The word "low" is used to indicate the quantity of fantasy in a work and not the quality. The subgenre was created when overall fantasy genre split into high and low fantasy in the early twentieth century. Within the fantasy genre, low fantasy is the opposite of high fantasy, which takes place, partly or entirely, in a completely fictional setting.

But even that definition has boundaries that are always being pushed. Nothing is static, especially not in Second Life. There are Dwarves, Elves, and Hobbits of course. But there are also Furries (avatars that are animal like in appearance), Tinies (avatars that are half the size of most), and Dragons. Werewolves, Fairies (or Fae as they prefer to be called), Vampires and so many more. Most folks would say that none of those are real, unless you work for the National Enquirer. That makes them "fantasy" creatures. And therefore, fair game for Fantasy Follies.

So I've got a lot to write about! I already have a staff, and some are proving to be more reliable than others, so I'm learning here too as we go along.

Knitting ? Heh, none lately. Terrible I know. It's winter, the season of my guilt-knitting when I drag out the projects that have languished for months, forgotten until the thermometer says IT'S COLD LADY!

I was going to pick up one of those projects last night, but was surprised by the traditional Christmas concert instead. So with three hours notice, I bundled up Shandon and myself, and off we went to his Christmas concert. This year, he played the trumpet in Jazz Band, and did a wonderful job! I got all of three pictures, all of which I am frustrated to say turned out too dark and grainy to share with anyone. Even my parents! For some reason, the school turned their lights down. And my flash only bounced off the big heads of the tall people in front of me.

Sigh

Well, maybe he can bring the trumpet home and I'll get a video to share...that would work.

Till next time!

When Did I Grow Up?

I hardly know where to begin tonight, so much has flitted through my mind lately. This is flu season, and I've done my share, thank you. I've already had it. At first, we thought it was a chest cold, but in mere hours, I felt worse. I started feeling bad at supper one night, but by bedtime I felt horrible. Shandon had already had this, so I knew what was coming, I thought. I got it worse. Yay, me. Anyway, I ended up taking two days off work, sleeping and feverish. It took two weeks to get over the bug and get my energy back. This was only one reminder that I am no longer young.
Lately, I've also noticed quite a few more grey hairs upstairs. No more the scattered few over my ears, now I have a prolific bunch on top as well. And as much as I know I could dye them, I really don't want to. I feel as though they are a badge almost. Not of honor, but a sign that I'm an adult now, you know? I don't suppose you'll understand unless you're over the age of 40 yourself.
This has been a cool, wet fall that fairly raced into winter-like weather, complete with hail yesterday and snow for my parents! My knees object to it, they don't like winter, they don't like cold. I have very opinionated knees.
Yet another sign I am no longer young.
The most alarming sign yet though was a very long conversation with my mother the other night.
We got to exchanging news. She told me the favorite house I lived in up there (on my own) burned to the ground. She told me most of the town is working again, and she brought me up to date on the new store and her knitting projects. And then she off-handedly mentioned she was two years aways from retirement.
"Wait, back that up?" I said, hardly believing what my brain had told me it heard.
"Kid, I'm 63 now, remember? I have white hair. You're 40. You didn't expect me to stay 36 forever, did you?"
I was speechless.
For years, when people asked how old my mother was, I told them she was 36. Not out of stupidity or a desire to keep her young, just for me, she stopped aging at 36. One day, I assumed she must be close to 45, so that became her magic number. Then 50.
And now I am forced to admit that my mother is 63.

This opened a whole new can of kickass.
Now I am forced to admit that time is screaming ahead, never mind crawling. I am forced to admit that my parents are aging, and I am more ill-prepared to help them financially then ever before. I always thought I was going to send them a little something every pay, but now I can barely make ends meet here in my own little world.Thoughts of my parents mortality flit through my mind before I can chase them away, and I can't help but wonder how they are really doing when they aren't on the phone for an hour with me.
And I wonder when this all happened.
When did I grow up and get old?

Knit two, purl four, carry the one, divide by pi, square root…

So much to do, too damn much work.

Work truly gets in the way of enjoying myself. I stayed up and on Second Life till after 2 am last night talking with my sister/friend Chate, about the book we're collaborating on. We're both very excited about it. It's a fantasy/futuristic tale that holds a lot of promise, we think, to be an epic. So, we were hashing out details while floating in a pond in Second Life. Very soothing...waterfalls, the loon, the company of a friend....ahhhhhhhhh. That's George the therapy bunny and I hanging out, enjoying the fall colours at a friend's place.

So I started another pair of socks yesterday on the bus ride into work. You should have seen the looks I was getting as people realized I had more than two needles! This is the easy part, the leg. When I get down to the heel, I will have to leave this sock at home until I get past the complicated stuff, and into the foot. Once I get to the foot, I can take it back on the bus again and do the mindless knitting. This sock is in Bernat Cashmere, in a cancelled colourway, "Ocean". I'm thinking these will go to Braydon. I'm noticing more and more demand for warm socks. Debra wants some, the boys need some, Betty and I always need more, and now a co-worker who runs a shop wants some for her store! If I could just make at least $9.00 an hour off of them, I could quit my job!

So the yellow baby blanket is nearly done. I am working on the last seed stitched edge, then I have to wash it and block it in the hopes it will lay somewhat flat. I'll be glad when I can finally pass it on. I have been working on it so long, I'm nearly sick of that shade of yellow. And then I think I'll be knitting nothing but scarves for the homeless and socks! I may need some more size 3 and 4 four-set-needles.

Wonder if I could talk Betty into picking me up a set of 3's the next time she's in Walmart?

Second Life

My real life has never been boring. Ever.

Why then, did I get hooked on an online universe called Second Life? I'm not sure how it happened, other than, it was fun.

It is not a game, in the traditional sense. it is similar to Sims, but with more interaction and better graphics. it is user created, with more options than I'm sure you want to hear about.

Anyway, my point is that I've made some interesting associations in Second Life (also known as SL)

I have made acquaintances, and friends, and we even have a home in SL now. We have had a couple, actually. Right now we are living in a region owned by a friend. We have a large skybox that resembles a castle. It has more room than we know how to use at the moment! Below that, about 600 meters below, we have a park-like area, with a library. Next to that piece of land, we went in on another piece of land with some friends. That's a picture of it off to the left there. Well, a part of it. Off to the right of the waterfalls is a tipi and stone ring we use for seating around a fire. It has become quite the social gathering area. In the pond you see, there is a loon that swims, floats and dives, as well as sing his loon song. Below the water is a Mermaid gazebo and garden, and a few fish. It is all very peaceful and pretty.

Very relaxing.

Later on, I'll tell you a bit more about our Second Life.

Peace, Love and Yellow-ness

Remember last entry I went on about my new Mac computer? That wasn't enough geekiness for this family. We had to go out and buy an iPod.

I got to pick the colour, a small thing, but I was impressed. (It's deep purple, just so you know) So now I'm an avid listener of podcasts.

I have a few faves so far. On the knitting front, I have developed a strong affinity for Cast On, and the voice of Brenda Dayne. She has a soothing, melodic quality to her voice; instantly soothing and welcoming. (Actually, I think I mentioned this before) She has inspired me to pick up knitting that sometimes sits ignored. The yellow baby blanket, actually. It's difficult to ignore a project, even though it is destined to be a huge mass of yellow-ness totaling hundreds of stitches, when listening to a woman who has knit many, many sweaters!

The baby blanket I've gone on about, from time to time has changed intended recipients, because in part I knit so slowly and because the universe just kind of slants me one way or the other, and I believe that the universe has "tilted" me away from the blanket's first intended recipient.

Sound obscure?

Bear with me for a moment.

The other night, as I was putting my boys to bed, one of my sons asked me about fate. The context of his question seemed ridiculous in the moment, but it got me wondering about what goes on in his head. Why would a 13 year old be asking about fate? 

I answered his question, and he realized that I believe in a combination of fate and free will. 

I was raised on traditional Ojibway teachings, and a lot of that is still with me, but I also believe in a few other teachings that are very organic. I do believe that our souls go to another place when our bodies pass. In this place, I think each of our souls determines what it wants to learn next, through experiences and significant associations our bodies are going to make with other people. I also believe that we choose the families we will be born into, as a way of learning through experience. While each of us learns something different from our friendships, arguments and conflicts with significant people in our lives, we contribute something to them as well.

And so I believe that certain people come into our lives for a reason.

By extension, I think the yellow baby blanket was intended for someone other than who I thought.

A convoluted way of getting to my point, I know, but I hope it was a little clearer than mud.

This blanket has always been intended to bring warmth, and caring, and good wishes for the baby, no matter which baby that is. Kind of like a prayer shawl. Are you familiar with these? While knitting or crocheting a shawl, a prayer is said or good wishes whispered. There is no hard and fast rule about how one puts these prayers (or wishes if one is not "religious"), the point is to create with love and harmony in your heart. Some folks put on soft music, or inspirational tunes, light incense... whatever brings them to a place that allows them to create in the right frame of mind. A lot of knitting groups are creating these shawls for folks that are suffering from disease or suffering through the loss of a loved one. They are beautiful in their intent.

It was this kind of project that I had in mind when I started the baby blanket. Something peaceful and beautiful that would love some of me behind.

Like I Needed Another Obsession?

I'm going to take a break from knitting  a cute little hat in green and white, for a friend of a friend, to  blather on about the newest thing in my life. Tax season is easy  at our house, and for almost a whole year we plan how best to spend it. This year, Betty talked me into spending part of the return on a new computer for this desk. My desk, but since everyone uses the 'pooter it doesn't really feel like mine alone.

Anyway, I've been lusting after a Mac for a few years now. A friend of ours has a couple out west, and I've always heard such good things about them that I am naturally drawn to play with one whenever we go to Best Buy. This year, at last, I had the opportunity to buy one.

So I did. An iMac that just barely fit within the overhang of my desk. I won't bore you  with technical, geeky details, but allow me just a moment or two to effuse about how sleek and modern it looks. 

It is beauty within a square. It has some killer curves and it's.... slim!

And the things it does....omg. I have never seen my photos this clear! 

I have a new obsession.

Podcasts.

I thought the Yarn Harlot had a podcast, so I went looking last night. No luck, but I did find Cast On, and instantly fell  for Brenda Dayne's voice. Listening to her is like sitting down with an old friend and visiting while you knit. I listened to four of her podcast installments, and the only reason I stopped was the fact that I was tired!

You should really check it out. Seriously.

I haven't gotten a whole lot of knitting done lately. It's all been about work. 10-12 hours a day. There's a lot of pressure to get the store and my books up to snuff, and this is the only way I know how to do it... for now. Oh, I want to knit. I have the baby blanket I'm still working on, and the little hat I mentioned before is for a friend of Tammy's. I'd be tickled if I could knit at work, but I can't see that happening. someone would piss me off and I'd run them through with a knitting needle.

I wonder if that would constitute  a charge of assault with a deadly weapon?

Reflective Socks

It seems I'm smitten with socks these days.
The one you see to the left is Shandon's sock, knitted with Bernat Satin, in the "surf" colorway. It's super soft, and I figured since Mom had gifted me with so many balls, I'd do something useful with them.
So the question is, will I finish the pair before he outgrows them?
It was quite a shock to realize he fit my socks, so I made it easier on myself and knit to fit me.

His 13th birthday is in just five days, and I was sitting here this morning wondering where those 13 years went. I remember well the storm that hit Sault Ste. Marie, Ont. the night he was born. I remember craving pizza, and my friend who braved the storm to get me one; only to prove the nurses right and throw it all up a short while later.
What a waste! I remember not being able to breastfeed and yet, wanting to very badly. I remember how he never quite took to a soother and the pine green bunting bag that my mother made him.
I also remember how small he seemed in it.
And here we are, 13 years later, trying to find a way for a 13 year old to make his way in an ever-changing world; with me wanting to keep him close, and him wanting to hurry up and be a teenager.

Where did the time go?

Throw Another Log On The Fire!!

Baby, it's cold out there!
I worry about the homeless and wild animals at this time of year. (Can't you just see deer eating with wheat coloured scarves wrapped around their necks?)
Sorry, what was I saying? Oh yes, the cold.
I just saw a report on a polar bear summit where someone had decided 2008 was one of the warmest in ten years. Well, 2009 seems to be trying to make up for it's predecessor's failings!
I was so cold yesterday while walking to the bank that I had to take my glasses off because the cold beating off them was making my eyeballs hurt! (My eyes were the only exposed part of my body)
So I only go outside to catch the bus to work, or home, and to go to the bank for work. Normally, it doesn't feel too bad. I've been wearing microfiber long underwear every day this season, I have a long, very warm coat that many laugh at, until it gets cold and I am warmer than they are, and I have great mitts. I look dorky, but I won't get frostbite!
Except for my eyeballs.

So I've been doing a lot of knitting this winter.
I've picked up the yellow baby's blanket again.










I've been knitting two different socks at once, a pair for Shandon and another for Betty, with Bernat's new sock yarn in "Hot Tamale", which doesn't fit the yarn at all.
(Pictures to follow)
And I finished Braydon's mitts. Just in time to realize he needs a new cap because his head is outgrowing the red one I made for him.

I need to quit my job. It's interferring with my knitting.

It's mitten weather here in Ontario!
Damn, it's cold out there!
Kids being kids, mine are growing like weeds, so of course, they both need new mitts/gloves. S has decided it's not cool at middle school to wear mitts, so he's going to stick with store-bought gloves, but B was wanting a new pair of mitts. So like a good Mom, I whipped out my knitting needles. The mitt you see at left is the the first of the pair. All that's left is to close the thumb off, weave in ends and B has a new pair of mitts. At the rate he's going though, I think I should start casting on a bigger pair now!

Our friend Debra is getting another pair of socks this year. Dark blue leg, rainbow coloured cuffs and toes. So far so good, I've just gotten to the heel flap for the first one. This pair is taking me longer than I'd like.
Every year I say I'm going to knit all the important people in my life socks, and then the year gets away from me, and it's November and there's no way all those people are going to get handmade socks!
I see a new year's resolution in the making.

Work has changed yet again.
I have been promoted to manager of a 24 hr. store.
Those of you who read here on a semi-regular basis will remember when I stepped down as assistant manager of that first store.
Now I'm managing my second store! Yikes!
(I'll post pictures next time)

There have been issues, and there will continue to be, I'm sure. I think I see how to fix what needs fixing on the floor. I know I need to become more paperwork oriented, even though that's not my thing. I would rather spend the day on the floor straightening, cleaning and rebuilding.
But it's mind blowing at times how many different elements there are to managing a store.
I think someone is trying to sabotage my new position. There are rumors, wrong and incorrect ones at that, someone has already called head office trying to paint me as incompetent and lazy; and I am grateful that there are cameras all over the place!
But I'm stubborn and pig-headed and whoever it is will not drive me away.
I am a Sagittarius. We are honorable, honest to a fault, trustworthy, reliable, generous and sincere.
But above all else, I am stubborn!
I have already taken a store in need of focus and TLC and made it more successful.

I will do it again.