Yarn-A-Go-Go

I *heart* NY

Our first meeting with Em!

In'int she gorgeous?

At the March!

The Cutest Marcher:

The next day, lunch with Wendy!

Our lovely Lady:

And how she sometimes appears:

Don't tell his mom, but Scout sometimes sleeps on sock yarn.

Knit NY!

Cashmere at School Products..... I love Michelle.

I love Cari.

And I love Alison, too.

Bethany found that Central Park has good swings!

Up in the castle:

Cherry blossoms are in season:

Tulips are, too.

In front of the Chelsea Hotel, the home of poets, writers, and artists of all sorts. Bethany's trying to look inscrutable. I think she succeeds:

Very happy:

Cari is proof that yes, knitting IS sexy.

A goodbye kiss (note that gorgeous Rosedale....)

Whew. Deep breath. Now the post. But all I have to do is pretty much cut and paste, so here y'are, m'dears.

Friday, April 30th

We just left New York. I’m on a bus that runs between the New York and DC Chinatowns. Beth’s sitting across the aisle from me, knitting, and I’ve decided to hope that I’ll be able to download this post from my very own computer when we hit the hotel in Maryland later today. So far, carrying the computer hasn’t been the best choice. I’m still hoping it’ll pay off, though....

I’m semi-heartbroken to leave New York. It’s not a full heartbreak, though, because I know I’ll be back. When I leave a city like Prague or Paris, I have a vague hope that I’ll return. But cities like Venice and New York, my return is assured. Completely.

The best part of the trip so far? Being with my Brooklyn girls. I already loved them, you knew that. But actually being with Em and Cari, in the flesh, was a different and wonderful thing. I think I was only able to articulate it when I met Cari’s dogs for the first time. I had heard stories about them and seen pictures of them for so long, but when they were before me, in three dimensions, I finally met them. I finally knew them.

Actually, that’s how this whole trip has been so far. The flat, two-dimensional New York of books and movies became fleshed out in front of me. I understood the spatial relations of sidewalks against walls. I discovered how long it took my particular feet to cross Central Park. I tasted that knish, bought from a street vendor, that every newcomer has to taste. (Actually, I was way cool when I ordered our snack. “Two knishes.” “Mustard inside?” “Yeah.” Took the knish. Nodded at the vendor. Then turned back into Rachael and leaned in and told him, “This is our very first knish ever! We’ve never had one! I’m so excited!” And man, was it worth it.

Yesterday Bethany and I had the most marvelous New York kind of day. We took the subway in from Brooklyn and went to the Chelsea Hotel. We goggled a little. Then we ate Krispy Kremes across the street. I believe I inhaled three of them without exhaling once. Then uptown to the Park. Well, we thought we were going uptown, but by then we were both getting cocky. Yeah, this subway system is easy. We got it. We know it. Uh-huh. Oh, shit, we’re across the river and not in Manhattan anymore. We really did go uptown via Queens (which is kinda like going from Fisherman’s Wharf to North Beach via Oakland), but the subways are so damn fast and efficient that we were back uptown in a flash.

Central Park was insanely beautiful. The sun was shining, and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. We climbed the castle and rambled the Rambles (I know, but it was daylight – we saw no illicit sex going on, darn it). For Christy, we found the Dakota and went to Strawberry Fields and watched the nations throw flowers at John Lennon’s circle. We kept passing places that rang those 2D bells. Oh! What show were these benches in? (Sex and the City.) Where have we seen this bandstand before? (Breakfast at Tiffany’s.)

Bethany travels at the same pace I do. Lots of walking followed by prolonged periods of eating, resting, and people watching. After a quick tour of Madison Avenue, we went back to the East Village, which is by far my favorite section of New York. We drank beer on the sidewalk in the sun and watched the clothing/hair go by. I have now realized that Californians really don’t know crap about dressing. They think they do, but New Yorkers have that confidence that just makes ‘em look GOOD, no matter what they’re wearing.

I was just talking to Bethany and realized we really hadn’t bought any souvenirs. We didn’t shop at all, actually (you leave that cashmere outta this). I did buy a crappy NY tee shirt that I plan to sleep in, and yesterday, after our day out, I took Bethany back to Knit NY to have a cup of coffee and to knit for a little while. I bought one of their shirts, and I’m glad. After my all-day yarn excursion on Wednesday, and our knit-night at Cari’s, I can now say, Yes. I did Knit New York.

** Friday night: Now at the high-speed internet connection at the Sheraton, I’m glad I brought the computer. Still no time to catch up on blogs or email, I’m sorry, but I’ll do that when I get home. The bus ride was uneventful, but rather miserable. They put on a Chinese kung-fu romance at an amazing volume, and I couldn’t stop watching it. I was also pretty stoned on Aleve because in the subway in Chinatown NY, I pulled a muscle in my back. I was trying to go through the turnstile while reaching for my heavy suitcase on the other side. I scared poor Bethany to death because I found myself still leaning over the turnstile, only able to say, “Stuck. Stuck. STUCK!” She ran all around me, trying to get me unstuck from the mechanics, but it was just my body that wouldn’t move. She carried my suitcase the six blocks to the bus, and I tried to keep still for the rest of the ride. Ever tried to do that for four hours on a swaying bus? Oy. But the drugs helped, and I’m in the hotel now, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be good as gold tomorrow for the Sheep and Wool Festival! I can’t stand it! See you there?

Oh, I Got the Cone.

I'm in School Products in New York. This was our last stop on our Yarn Crawl of New York, and yes, behind me is Em and Cashmere. Not shown are Cari and Iris of Unfurnished Brooklyn.

CAN YOU TELL HOW HAPPY I AM?

It's ridiculous. Yesterday I had cashmere (a 2lb pound of lovely green and 2 small hanks) and pierogis (both potato and spinach) and an egg cream (?) and a gander at a lot of the City. Today, Bethany and I will tackle the City on our own. We leave tomorrow, but I don't want to!

I have so much more to write. You know I do. I can write reams on the way I buy toilet paper, but today there are things to do (and eat). Ciao.

From this:

and this:

(thanks, Maureen, for the photos), to THIS:

Sigh. I love New York. Doy. Didn't I know I would? I think I was a teensy-tinsy bit worried that I might not, but I do. Falling head over heels already. Yesterday found us waiting in line on a busy street in the East Village. I felt so cosmopolitan. Waiting, with all the other busy New Yorkers. Oh! What were we waiting for, you ask? Tickets to the Producers? Waiting for entry to the hot new club? Oh. Uh. No. Free cone day at Ben and Jerry's.

We went to the Statue of Liberty first thing. I met the Manhattan skyline properly, with the polite handshake followed by the kiss on the cheek which she deserves. But by the time the ferry pulled back in to Battery Park, I was flattering her with my most effusive compliments, hoping that she'll love me back. The rest of the day was just spent wandering with our fantastic and lovely tour guide, Em. Then we had dinner with Cari. I can't even TRY to describe her. She's all I thought she would be and more. Double sigh. I'm totally, wonderfully happy and satisfied.

Especially since today is our Yarn Crawl. We're meeting at Knit NY in less than an hour, and then it's ON. Yarn, the whole day. Expect exhaustion later. Bethany's out meeting the city by herself this morning. She likes yarn, but maybe not QUITE as much as we do.

I'm sorry I'm not checking email, but I am thinking about you. Really. In and around the yarn fantasies. From New York City, MWAH!

Bush, Stay Out of Mine

My favorite sign slogan. Damn, I love that.

Yo. I'm sittin' in Brooklyn. Yes. Yes, I am. I brought my laptop with me, and I've been writing just a little bit, but it's been soooo hard to find the time to write what with all the marchin' goin' on. At some point I'll get to a point on this trip when I can download all my pictures and show you a photoblog, but for now, just go read Em. She writes about the day so beautifully.

Seriously, it was one of the best things I've ever done. To sum up incredibly briefly: We marched. We were at the beginning of the march, but still hit walking traffic -- those bottlenecks that prevent motion but promote talkin' to your neighbor. We were all the best of friends. Walking past the White House, the chanting and yelling got exponentially louder (that's actually how I knew to look over and see the little manse). Darling Maggi was there, with her extra-darling Wee C., who thankfully slept in her backpack while we marched past all the bloody signs the opposition were holding. Whew. I mean BLOODY. But we didn't look. Instead, we chanted, and the chanting got louder as the screams from the Pro-Lifers got more vitriolic. At one point, I found myself leading one: Picking it up from a woman next to us, I would yell, "Keep! Abortion!" and the people around me would yell, "Safe and legal!" I felt frightened and strong at the same time.

Our knittin' group (about eight strong, see Em for details) marched into the Mall and set up camp. We broke out our knitting and shared our sandwiches (I can't wait to show you the snaps of C diving across the lawn for mouthfuls of my turkey). SO MANY people wanted to know more about Knitters Against Bush and where we got out tee shirts. Older women were gratified to see people still knit, and younger people just thought we were cool. (Maureen, you rock.)

We walked out of the Mall, after sitting and listening to speakers for almost three hours (like Madeleine Albright, Gloria Steinem, Whoopi Goldberg, Camryn Manheim, Ashley Judd -- not to mention THE INDIGO GIRLS!), only to find to find that people were still streaming in, full force. We stopped, astonished, and asked someone, "You're not actually still marching?" This was FOUR HOURS after we had started walking. When they said Yes, Em and I burst into tears. It was overwhelming.

I didn't mean to write this much. I only meant to say hi.

I'm sitting at Michelle's computer, and it's a sunny day in Brooklyn, and this is my first day EVER in New York. So I have to go. But here are a few pics I was able to get off my camera phone.

Bethany behind Tach, in front of the Watergate.

Me, on the lawn of the Mall.

Me! Em/Michelle! Maggi!

Knitting has been all around us. Yesterday, we knit, like, ALL day with the lovely Maeve and the fantastic Wendy (hi, girls! Pictures to follow at a later date!). Drank some beer. Took the bus that runs between DC and New York Chinatowns. Today is for exploring, tomorrow is for yarn shopping and more knitting (with the lovely CARI). After that, no plans. Ramblings with Bethany.

Keeses to all.

The March for Women's Lives

This is why I'm going.

Molly Ivins:

Over 335 new state laws restricting a woman's right to choose have been passed in the last eight years. Eighty-seven percent of U.S. counties have no safe abortion provider. Twenty-four states have mandatory delays and state-prepared anti-choice propaganda. Anti-condom policies not only result in unwanted pregnancies but an increase in AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. Right-wing legislation gives fertilized eggs more rights than women. Doctors are prevented from giving accurate information about birth control and abortion rights to their patients. Anti-choice terrorists continue to murder and bomb, intimidate and harass, but the Department of Homeland Security has no time for those terrorists. This is for our lives. Be there.

Full article HERE. Be there.

Bungee Jump

I called Bethany yesterday and she was in Super Stealth Mode, so she spoke in almost a whisper. She was parked in a nice little suburb of Georgetown and didn’t want residents to know she was getting ready to sleep in her truck. I told her where our hotel in Georgetown was located, and she realized she was just across the street from it. Heh. I told her to thumb her nose. Sleepin’ for free, baybee. After two weeks of travelling with me, I think she might have a hard time going back to the camper shell.....

I leave tonight!

I’m not packed!

I don’t know why I’m enjoying this so much, this non-organization. So unlike me. It’s the Rachaelized version of bungee-jumping. Wheeeeeee! I’ve made lists of the necessary phone numbers and addresses. That’s about it. I think I’ll go buy some moleskin (it’s going to be a long day of marchin’ I think) and then I’ll finally start pulling things out to pack. I travel light – one suitcase and a backpack, both carry-on.

People who are going to see me on this trip: Be advised, I bring three outfits when I travel. One to wear, one to dry after hand-washing, and one for emergencies. I always have laundry hanging around, and Bethany’s truck will see my damp socks everyday, I imagine. So if in person or in pictures you think, hey, isn’t Rachael wearing that again? And again? The answer is yes. That leaves more room for yarn, don’tcha know? (I remember having to buy a second pair of shoes in Italy because my only pair got soaked. Hard times. Don’t you just HATE buying shoes in Italy?)

Vaguely thinking about taking my laptop. I could write everything up when I get home, or steal time on other computers, but I’d like the ability to get in bed at night and write a little bit, before the memory goes stale. Hopefully I’ll get to download it to blog-able form, but if not, you’ll get the Great Travelogue when I get home in two weeks. I think I’ll just wait until I’m packed to see if I have a safe travel space for it.

The Frantic Bella progresses. Two sleeves down. I love making sleeves first, especially in a lace or cabled pattern. You learn how the pattern works in a smaller space. Less to rip if ripping’s needed.

She’s Calmer and she’s soft. Yup.

So, hey. I’ll catch more than a few of you in Maryland (spot/hug the blogger), but for those I don’t, there’s always next trip, right?

I’m so flipping excited! Ciao!

By George

Here’s a shot of George in the morning. [Please don’t EVER think he’s named for the president. My George is beautiful and intelligent.] Yesterday I came home at five in the morning from work, and this was taken in the early pre-dawn light. The camera picked up way more light than my eyes could, but I like how the poppies are still closed, sleeping, waiting for the sun.

And a woodshed, for Em.

The next door neighbors, a young couple who are redoing their house, are eventually going to fix up their yard and put up a fence. I don’t blame them. They have a lovely huge backyard and right now it’s my front yard. There are no barriers and no boundaries; their plants come right up to my front doorstep. They have two small children, and they need a fence of some sort. I understand that. I kind of know in my heart, also, that George rests right along the imaginary fence line, and he’ll probably have to go. Even if he didn’t get uprooted, I wouldn’t be able to see him with a fence, so I’m spending as much quality time admiring him as I can.

Ooooh. Even though I totally understand, I’m going to HATE a fence.

And here’s sister Christy! Socks! Koigu! She’s going into her very last month in the graduate program at Berkeley in Environmental Planning. She needed some hot pink socks to keep her happy and focused. Yep.

And to complete this quick, disjointed post, a thought from Silvia, with whom I discussed the need for a loose knitters support group. She suggested several fabu slogans, including “Loose knitters are sexy.” I’ll say. Snort.

Media Darling

LOST SHEEP: Shepherd Daniel Devine carries this merino ("Shrek"), which has evaded shearing for six years on New Zealand's South Island - and has the wool to prove it. STEPHEN JAQUIERY/OTAGO DAILY TIMES/REUTERS

More HERE. Thanks, Maeve, for the heads up!

Setting Up

Bethany “They’re already setting up for the March!”
Rachael - “How could you tell you were in the right area?”
“I was in this place where they were putting up banners, and I wondered, and then the speakers started blaring Sarah McLaughlin."
"Oh. Yeah."
"Dude! I just almost got hit by a limo!”
“Are you driving through DC and talking to me at the same time?”
“I’m NOT driving!”

T minus how many days? Four? Jaiz, I’m getting freaking excited. I’ve done almost nothing to get ready for the trip, though. I am the biggest packing/list whore there is. Usually. When I travel abroad (ahhhh....), one of my favorite parts is the list-making. That's why it's so weird that I’ve done nothing. I think I have a note to myself somewhere that says to change the sheets for my house-sitter. I know I’ll forget that one, though. I’ve barely thought about what I’m bringing to wear. Travel in the US seems so much easier and so much more difficult at the same time.

When I leave the country, I take one of everything: one dose of sudafed, one of tylenol cold, one bandage, one tube of antiseptic cream, one needle, one clothesline. Here, I know I’ll never be out of range of a drugstore. But the pace of the US is so fast. You’ve gotta know where you’re going and how to get there and where you’re going to stay and what you’re going to do. Or at least, when thinking about a US trip, that’s how you’re made to feel.

I’m trying to reject that. I know where we’re staying in DC, because with the March and millions of people descending on the city, that was imperative (and ass-expensive, too). I know where we’re staying for the Festival, because I want to worry only about wool. I know how we’re getting to NY and back.

That’s it. That’s just about all I know. I’m taking a page from Greta’s book. She knows she doesn’t need those kinds of plans, that it will all work out, and it does, and happily so. Why is that so easy for me to accept in other countries, but not here? I’m working on it. I’m going to transplant my Italian serendipity and place it right on the east coast. Kay?

Oh! I started the Bella cardie in Calmer last night. I think I might really be crazy. 2+ weeks? In lace? Every other row there are these weird k2togs that, because of the following y.o., are just tricky to pick up. I have to look at and fiddle with every single damn k2tog. I don't know why they're wonkier than normal k2togs.... Frustrating and slow. Oy. But it'll be good non-boring travel knitting.

And go read Cari today. (Well, every day, for that matter.) I love her.

Shopping

Worst spam header so far: “Slay creche.” Who opens those things? Worse, who writes ‘em?

Forgive me if I’m a bit ragged-edged today. I’ve been running hither and thither, a million errands and can’t seem to remember a one. My friends Rachel and Kira (of ArtFibers) are getting married the day after I get back from my trip, and they asked me to say a few words. I hadn’t been thinking much about clothing, knowing I could pull a little something from my closet, but when I looked, all my best clothes are variations on black. While I’m not opposed to wearing black to weddings anymore, I think I’m actually a co-officiant and black just won’t do in that case.

But navy blue might! I found a cute cocktail type dress with a nice Jackie O kind of neckline, tags still attached (Spago, anyone?) for half-off $1.99. Shoes: navy strappy heels from Payless Shoe Source, $10.41. Rowan Calmer (color Slosh) from Article Pract for the Bella cardie I simply have to make before then: $80ish. That’s eighty dollars OUT of the MD yarn budget. Oy. But I have to make it. Good airplane knittin’, right?

Are my spending priorities totally out of whack? (Mom, you’re not allowed to answer that.)

Back to running around. I’m fighting an ear infection, and dear Greta told me about sweet almond oil (I'll do that in a few minutes) and Rescue Remedy, which is interesting and weird and I think I like it. Anyone else use it?

Two new blogs have arrived!
Juliette, who might get a tattoo with me someday, and my friend Exy. Go say hi!