August 2011 - Change Time

Wow! Lots of changes this year. Some are good, some not so much, but we've reached a point in the year when all are evident. My daughter is transferring to a different university to finish her art degree. It is a friendly environment, a little easier to reach by car, and it has the area of concentration that she desires. It took a move from old university apartment to home, then big sorting and editing of possessions, then a move from home to new university house. Can you hear my joints creaking? Actually, my girl is strong and energetic. She carried 75 percent of her things, probably 98% of the upstairs moving, and I concentrated on sorting and putting away belongings. Now that the chores are done, I can reflect on my comfort with her recent choices. She picked a school and program that seem suit all her needs, and she's already making friends there.

Both of my parents are gone. Mama followed Daddy by just four months. We knew that after 70 years she was searching for her connection with him, but her death was still a shock. I feel unmoored. There's no one to call to report my car troubles or my latest encounter with one of their church members. When I made butter cream frosting for the first time, I almost picked up the phone to discuss the results with Mama. At least once a week I wonder why Daddy hasn't called to check in: "Hey, Esoo, how are you getting along? Haven't heard from you since last week."

One of my sisters and her hubby will arrive in town soon, buying the parents' house and making Chattanooga their retirement place. With four sisters here, that will strengthen the family hub. I've always liked living in the place where relatives are most likely to visit.

I have custom orders lined up: a large blanket made of a variety of Lorna's Laces yarns, a shawl in a complicated rainbow of colors. Just finished a matching hat and booties to go with an organic cotton baby blanket. A baby boy in New York will have a bright welcome. If I can figure out how, I will add the photo my daughter took with her phone.

All is well. This is a chemo (rituximab) week, so I will put my feet up and knit.

Peace. Peace.

Better? Better!

I have to remind myself to post when I am doing well. I forget because I have less free time when I feel good, and because feeling bad makes me need to vent and share the weight. Lately I'm better. I go sometimes as long as ten days without a single pain pill. I walk faster, and there is a spring in my step. I go to the market and participate fully in set-up and packing out. I have an easier time sticking with my eating plan.

Methotrexate shots have been added to my regimen, and just as before (I was on it for several years in the past) it has provided some immediate improvement. I'm hoping that with metho and rituximab together, I can - wait for it - get off of prednisone. Won't know until about September or October, but that is the goal. Meanwhile, I already have a pretty severe Candida infection of the skin, but it is localized and seems to be responding to the anti-yeast meds. (No, not there. You get yeast infections of exposed skin when you are immunocompromised.) More immunosuppression, more infections. Goes with the territory.

My store is doing better, too. I've opened a branch in Minnesota. My sister volunteered to take some of my work to her local farmer's market, where there seems to be greater appreciation for handmade items and natural fabrics, and greater knowledge about eco-friendly products. My things are selling quite well. Here in town the Brainerd Market is attracting more patrons, and I am selling more products. Which leads me to...

...my 3D explosion. I love three dimensional design. I've been knitting giant bowls, cannisters and other vessels, and felting them. I've experimented with different edges and shapes and yarn types. I'm excited by what I've learned and the vessels I'm producing. I began with plain yarns that were not of my premium stock, but I've begun to use the more pricey yarns, too. Hand-dyed wools, especially variegated ones, make such gorgeous pieces. I've shown some above, including a before and after photo, documenting the magic of felting.

Finally, the gloves. I had a commission for a pair of gloves and a pair of mittens from a cold New Yorker. The gloves were the most difficult to design. The first pair I tried had fingers for an elf. The second design is what you see. Karabella Aurora 8 is my favorite merino worsted, and it made these gloves look beautiful, falling into its blissfully even stitches with such gorgeous definition. The customer was very happy with both pairs, making me feel it was well worth the extended time spent on design.

It's good to be living.

Peace.

Matlock Makes Me Laugh

Defendant's wife has an explanation for her affair that is laden with therapy-speak. Matlock says he understands: "You were hot for each other." Andy Griffith has been one of my heroes for decades. He always played characters that had good common sense and seemed much less intelligent than they actually were. His characters seemed to accept that people did strange and sometimes humorous things, and he was not too sophisticated to exclaim at them. Even as Matlock he sometimes pulls out his guitar and gives us a great song.

I am often watching Matlock this time of morning, turning from the Today Show as soon as Kathy Lee Griffin opens her mouth. This morning I need it more than ever, as I have been obsessing about my Turtlefat/Turtletots sales. I mean lack of sales. In five market or craft fair sales since the season started, I have barely covered expenses. I've been looking at my products and my displays and the economy and the things people are buying and how other vendors are doing, and on and on and on.

This is the first season that I have pushed so far into hot weather. I am discovering that people admire my scarves but it is too hot to try them on, yet I've sold one linen/cotton wrap. I've sold a few baby items (booties, hats). I've sold a few household items (cup cozies, organic cotton washcloths, grocery bags). People express interest in the fibers that I choose, chat about the soy, bamboo, corn, organic cotton, like the way children's clothing especially is done with less toxic choices, but they don't buy.

I'm doing better at labeling the items in my store so that people can recognize them from a greater distance and see the variety of items. I'm considering whether I should group them and only sell one class of item each time (baby things this week, household next week, etc.). I recently decreased some prices and made sure that every item had a fresh tag that was clearly labeled. I culled items that had been around for a while, and things that no longer conform to my aesthetic.

Yesterday I began exploring some fun creatures I call Shrunken Heads. Maybe what's fun for me will be fun for others. Maybe this will keep my mind off the constant worry about the stores.

Peace.

Preparing to Have a Flare

I've had a backache for a few days. I've set up for the Chattanooga Market twice this month, and gone to a smaller farmer's market once. I figured the pain was from hauling stuff and bending, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, etc. This morning I woke myself up singing the pain song. What I mean is that I was whimpering in my sleep because my body hurt, and the noise woke me. I could see right away that I was in trouble. I got up and began walking and my thighs were stiff. It felt like I was expending major energy to make my legs move. There were annoying little shooting pains in my lower legs even when I sat. This is a flare until proven otherwise.

Obviously I can't prepare for something that begins so precipitously, but I've got some moves for when I recognize the inevitability of the flare. First, I put in a call to my rheumatologist. It's Thursday and I don't want to get caught out on the weekend trying to reach someone. Might as well get some instructions now. Second, I look at my schedule. For the next few weeks I need to determine what is absolutely essential, and cancel everything else. I will need the extra rest and I'm probably going to lack the energy or good will to do more. Third, I rally my moral support. Telling one or two sisters, my daughter, and a few good friends alerts everyone that I may need a bit of help, if only an ear for my complaining. It also lets them know that I'm not turning down activities with them because I've suddenly developed an aversion to their company. Fourth, I start recording my food intake. If I'm going on a higher dose of prednisone it is going to drastically increase my appetite. I need to monitor what I eat and make sure I stay on program. It will be especially difficult with the low carbohydrate plan my new internist wants me to try, as prednisone makes me crave baked goods and other carbs in a remarkable way.
Since my usual day is built around my crafting, specifically knitting and crochet, I don't have to change my basic purpose. I still want to get up in the morning, see what I can learn (reading or on the Internet), do maintenance on my stores, and then work on projects. The flare will put a kink in my ability and energy for photography, so I try and do it in short sessions at the times when my energy is best.
I sat down to record this plan so that I would stop obsessing with what this flare might mean. Yes, it might be a three-month disaster, but it also might respond to steroids right away and be a non-issue in three weeks. Yes, it is going to bring more pain, but my pain tolerance is high and my distraction skills have stood me well. Yes, there's going to be some disappointment in having to give up some activities and adjust my thinking to active illness mode, but that's happened dozens-hell, in 20 years, maybe hundreds-of times and it eventually passes.
Damn. My wrists hurt.
Peace.

Preparing to Go to Market

Top photo is box of labels and a set of baby headbands that I've just labeled. I have to be careful to label adult and home items with http://essiewb.etsy.com and child/baby items with http://turtletots.etsy.com.
Second and third photos show scarves hanging on the new clothing rack. I hope this will show them off and allow shoppers to easily access them. I love people to touch my products and try them on.

Fourth photo shows the ends of the spiral scarf, loose yarn ready to be sewn into place.

I've been going to market events to sell my products for several years. Each time there's a process I go through to prepare. Because I am always knitting and crocheting I usually have a pile of new products that need to be labelled before I can pack them. I have printed tags on which I write the price, fiber content and care instructions. These are tied to each product with a length of yarn. I've learned that most people like tags. Some are too shy to ask, some check out tags to decide if they can afford to shop with you. Others, however, never glance at a tag, asking me for the price of each thing they examine. Go figure.

Next, I go through the products already in my rolling dufflebag and remove any that are out of season or that I don't want to display at the coming market. I replace these with the pile of new things. During this process I am also checking the condition of the items to see if anything needs refolding or a pass with the iron. If there are prices that need adjusting, I put on new tags. The few items that don't fit in my duffle (like felted rugs) are fetched and laid out with the bag so I don't forget them. I never feel compelled to take everything with me. I always have way more stuff than I have space to handle, and I'm constantly looking for ways to display them better. I'm toying with the idea of only taking one class of products at a time (housewares day, baby items only, etc.), but folks who are familiar with my store come up looking for their favorites when I finally show up to market. It's difficult when I don't have hats that day, or they've come for a newborn gift and I don't have them.

Getting my car ready is as important as preparing the products. My car is a large sedan with a decent-size trunk, but it wasn't made for hauling equipment. I must clear the way to put in a folding garment rack (new for this year!), two long folding tables, two portable chairs, a dolly, and totes filled with wrapping materials, a couple of knitting projects to work on during the market day, a money container, some snacks, my Turtlefat Collection sign, and extras like duct tape and a screwdriver and scissors, just for good measure. Oh yeah. I have to pack my tent-unwieldy and heavy, but with wheels on one end, thank goodness.

Many of the things that I take (and leave at home) are the result of many sessions at market, the trial and error of having too much of this or none of that, learning what makes it easier, what makes me function better during those long hours with my limited endurance and tendency toward swelling and pain.

Obviously, after I empty the car, I have to load all my gear. Sigh. On the other end I will have to unload it in the parking lot and haul it into the pavilion. Sometimes that affects the order of packing, other times I just go for random placement and hope for the best. We used to be able to drive into the pavilion and unload at our booth site, but that's no longer allowed.

There's always something waiting to be finished that I want to complete and take to the market. Today it was a spiral scarf that needed about 30 rows and then finishing work in order to be ready. It doesn't need blocking, so I knew it was a realistic goal. When I began this scarf I hated the short rows and turning it every few stitches. To avoid all the turning I taught myself to knit backwards. I hold my yarn in my left hand and knit continental (forward, that is), so I just leave the yarn in my left hand and throw it around the needle when I'm knitting backwards. Anyway, I finished the spiral scarf and showed it above, needle ready for weaving ends.

I haven't mentioned that I am excited the whole week before market. No matter how tiring, the preparation boosts my anticipation. Can't wait for Sunday's Strawberry Fest at the Chattanooga Market!

Peace.

Something significant happened today: I decided to make a slipper-sock. I chose two yarns-a skinny, self-striping sock yarn (Felicity by KnitPicks) and a light worsted merino (Luxury Merino by elann.com). After one false start I got the number of stitches right to do a ribbed low ankle cuff. I added a cable on each side just for good measure. When I pulled into heel territory, I decided without much deliberation that I wanted a short-row heel and that I would make one tiny, center short row and then run my short-rows from cable to cable.

The perfect thing was that knowing the construction allowed me to pull this off without big calculations or consultations or any kind of pattern. I knit four pairs of socks two years ago, but I could hardly call myself a sock knitter, so this was a revelation. I could see the three-dimensional shape I wanted to achieve in my head, and I knew how to use the short-rows to make that cupping. This signals my arrival at a level of expertise that I have only reached before in medicine. I have lived with this knitting thing long enough that my understanding has a depth beyond the ability to follow a pattern. It's been integrated with my other knowledge of geometry and engineering, the fiber finding its place and making use of what's already in my head.

As usual, I haven't photographed the thing I'm talking about, but I do have photos of the lace scarf I mentioned last post. It now hangs with the rest of my summer scarves, ready for the Chattanooga Market to open next Sunday. I also have things that I never offered before-linen/cotton hand towels with tiny ruffled borders, organic cotton face cloths, mug cozies. I'm experimenting. We'll see how it is received.

Peace.

Black Women Do Knit; If I Wasn't Depressed I'd Put it in Caps

Wow, I haven't posted in a while and I forgot that I changed my format. I was excited when I saw the orange swirly background. I came because I learned something today. I was fooling around on Ravelry and found Ebony Elite Sistah Friends group - a large group of primarily African-American women knitters. Yes, we do exist! More than 600 members strong, 26 pages of members, overwhelmingly sistahs, pages of tan, brown, beige, light, bright, almost-white, ebony, near-ebony women who know the joy of craft. Hallelujah. Locations include most of the states, many in the UK, a few in the Caribbean, and at least one in Ireland. Black women knit. Amen.
I looked at every photo/icon, feeling irrationally that if a woman was brown and lived in my time and knitted, I must know her. It probably seems crazy, with all the knitters I know and have as close friends, that race is anywhere in this equation. It's just that I was afraid we were not feeling the joy of this fabulous past-time/obsession/preoccupation. I didn't want it to be some elite, separate activity like tennis or golf, with just a trickle of exposure for Black women.

I am doin' more than just talking about knitting. I'm proud of the lace scarves that I've created lately. I promise photos when they finish blocking. I'm also happy with my "little" things: mostly wash cloths and makeup remover squares knit in organic, undyed cotton. They are sweet little luxuries that make me feel pampered while also saving a lot of waste (disposable makeup pads), and I hope others will feel the same. I hated the super-thin synthetic wash cloths they sold for babies when I was a new mom, and I'm going to encourage them as baby gifts, too.

I've struggled with depression this spring. Nothing seems right-the unsettled weather, the absence of my father, the illness that kept my daughter from finishing her semester, the chaos in some of my relationships...I go from painful, stiff mornings when I wonder if I can keep this up to more active afternoons when I am giddily grateful that my meds have glued me together for one more day. I automatically work to boost my mood, but that constant striving takes lots of energy and concentration. I also try to maintain a stable schedule, which means I've got to stop rambling and go to bed. Rest is a good thing.

Peace.