Far-flung inaugural joy. That's the mood today. Just so happy, feeling like some big heavy thing in my heart is breaking loose; the years of disillusionment and disconnect from the agenda in the White House finally oozing away.
"We are the ones we've been waiting for."
So it begins. I am happy. My favorite image of the inauguration ceremonies was that of 10-year-old Malia Obama, taking pictures. I love the budding documentarian in the making. Who knows what blogs Malia will keep in a lifetime of capturing the tiny moments in her life? Even those moments that are pretty huge...
I've been up and down this week. Missing my dad, kind of reeling at times from the realization, anew, that he no longer walks in this world, this side of the veil. I'm so grateful for the distraction that working provides, these days. The 5th graders are a very real, demanding presence, thoroughly on this side of the veil.
Icarus...I pick it up, I put it down, a row later. I'm rapidly losing the idea of deadlines and commitments with this silly shawl. I am about halfway through the final skein of yarn I have, and am seriously wondering if I'll have enough yarn to finish it up. I have about 10 rows left (long-ass rows) and just don't know. I'm prowling my stash and have found a back up skein of some forest green laceweight that might make a pretty ending for it, should the unthinkable happen, and I do run out of yarn. No pics of my efforts, it all just looks the same right now. Instead, I have a pic of some yarn that Miss Joy gifted me with, last week. I'd given her a dog crate for her latest pack member. A Cricket hand-me-down, as it were, and this gorgeous skein of Shaefer Anne knocks me out; it's been a recent obsession, yarnwise, and I love these colors:
Earthy, with a bit of intense sky thrown in. These colors remind me of Scotland, and our trip there in the fall of 2003. Dark forests, browning fields and hillsides and cold blue skies. I feel more lace knitting coming on, or perhaps a pair of kneesocks? If I ever finish Icarus, but of course, I'll finish Icarus. Turning off that "it's impossible" thinking is just not my thing right now.
I have a sore throat. Which seems to be something I did not consider as I eagerly accepted this Perfect Manhattan that P made this evening, for no real reason at all.
It didn't cure the sore throat, but it did bring back fond memories of DisKnit, who introduced me to this lovely drink, so many years ago back in Sacramento. It is a tiny little drink, in my tiny little old martini glass, scored in a thrift store in San Francisco, back in 1992. I love the glass. There was just the one, sitting on a dusty shelf, at St. Vincent de Paul, in the Mission. It has outlived (out lasted, outplayed) quite a number of more expensive glasses that have come and gone.
One of my New Year's resolutions, though I don't like that term and am not good at keeping them, was to use my planner more conscientiously. I'm happy to report that it's going well, that I'm getting things done slowly but steadily. When I write something down in the planner, I'm more likely to do it. The other resolutions of more exercise, losing a ton of weight, well, they're kind of put in the category of "later" or "on the back burner." La Vida Loca(rb) still continues, and weight is trickling off. That would change with more exercise, but see "later" and "on the back burner." Writing things like "go to the gym" down doesn't really work so well. Still, I'm loving the planner. I think the other things will come.