The Colors of My Life

And now for something completely different... for me anyway. Yesterday was the quarterly visit to have the hair managed--could be cut, could be color, but usually something needs to happen about every three months. This time, on a complete whim as I sat there in the chair, I decided to go for a streak of color--no, make that two streaks. "Should they be the same color? Different colors? Different colors shading into other different colors?", Gabrielle asked. Oh heck, why do a little when you can do a lot, "Different colors shading into other different colors!" So now I have two mermaid hair streaks--or as I prefer to think of them, peacock feathers. They look pretty dramatic in these photos, but really they hide and shyly peek out from under a fall of natural hair (well, it's a natural color for some people...). I sported the new do at the Weaver's and Spinner's Association meeting last night and was surprised to see that every third or fourth person there had peacock hair of some variety. I guess people who deal regularly with textiles just gravitate towards color in fiber--even their own. Of course a less charitable person might say it's something women of a certain age who should know better also do. Come to think of it, I mostly see strong women artists of my age who show their inner beauty with an outer flair (flare?).

It's been awhile since I've posted. Spinzilla is now over--I spun almost three miles (5008 yds) of fiber. That's more than I did last year, but less than I hoped to do this year. I really had it in my head that I had the bandwidth and the stamina to do 5 miles. Snort. Maybe next year during the flying pig migration. The yarn on the left, I plied from previous spinning sessions. In the middle is my super-secret project yarn that I intended to spin for Spinzilla, and to the right (looking much like the yarn in the middle) is the roving (black alpaca and white silk) from which the project yarn was spun.

 Besides completing my Spinzilla project yarn, I also finished my first baby sweater! The picture at right is from right after I finished knitting before I sewed it together, added the buttons, wove in the ends, washed and blocked it so it looks a bit rough. Of course I didn't take a picture of it when it was completely done... But maybe I can get a picture of the adorable Brynn Jacob (who was born just last week!) in it. Jessie was a bit miffed at this project as I still have four baby sweaters on the needles that I started for her and never finished. It was much easier with this one as all I had to do was knit. Had Brynn been my baby, this sweater would also still be on the needles and relegated to the corner of the textile studio.

Today is a very special day for me, it's my wedding anniversary. Twenty one years ago today, after knowing each other for less than six months, Dave Griffith and I were wed. I made my dress (with a lot of hand-sewing help from my mom), Dave made the cake, wrote the vows, and wrote our invitations. The text on the invitation is as true today as it was then, and I can only hope for 21²¹
more years to come.

Now it's time to get into the studio and get some glass in the kiln. I have much more to write--the promised details on Ichiyo ikebana, the current status of the renovations at Stone's Throw, the progress on the glass studio, the textile studio, and the greenhouse (aka as the wet studio), but there's plenty of time. Next week Becky is coming for a week of sybaritic pleasure (lots of fiber will be involved, some spa time, shopping, a fair bit of wine, laughter, and relaxation--as well as no housework, no cooking, no laundry, and no chauffering!). There might be posting.

Mastery

Spinning on the back deck yesterday by one of the new ponds

I mentioned in my last post that I am recommencing my ikebana studies and working towards my Master's certification in the Ichiyo School. Well, as of yesterday, I am also beginning the Master Spinner Program through Olds College in Alberta, Canada. I have wanted to take that program for a few years and not had the bandwidth. Part of the beauty of the move to Austin and re-establishing myself is that I get to also reset my bandwidth. So come mid-February I will be in Orlando for a week immersed in the coursework for the first year of the Master Spinner program.

After the week of in-class work, the rest of the coursework is independent study that will take anywhere from a couple of months to a year to complete. Work is sent back to the college for grading, and consists of spun samples and skeins and writings. The writings are regular college level and require standard formatting and bibliographic references. The program consists of six course levels (typically taking six years to complete) and covers all stages of fiber prep, a wide range of fiber types (specific sheep breeds to cellulose, cotton, silk, nylon, angora, etc.) spinning techniques (woolen, worsted, novelty), dyeing--in short, everything you'd expect to learn in a Master's program. I am so excited!!!!! This February course is a jump-start for me and I *might* even be able to also take level 2 next year while we're in Montana in June: Olds College is just north of us in Alberta and they offer all the courses in the Master's series every June during their Fiber Week.

Plying from both ends
of the same ball of singles yarn

Now on with our regularly scheduled programming: Spinzilla! Yesterday I spent clearing off bobbins (plying the singles on them into yarn and then skeining it). I get to count the plying towards my Spinzilla yardage, just not the spinning... Since this is the first technical spinning post in a while I probably should revisit some terminology. Spinning fiber means twisting it so that it holds together and is stronger than it is untwisted. If you leave the fiber in this state it is called a single and there are things you can do to it to keep it from untwisting. Most commercial yarn you see has been plied which means to twist two or more singles together in the opposite direction from which they were originally spun. Because you twist them in the opposite direction when you ply them together, the twists balance out and the yarn hangs straight--it doesn't come untwisted.

There was one project I had on a bobbin that I couldn't just ply off and that is a gradient yarn I am making from a couple of smooth batts from Lunabudknits. I bought two batts so that I could spin each one following the color gradient and then ply them together the same way. That will give me one long skein that goes from pale lilac through violet to soft dark grey. This isn't the project I wanted to do for Spinzilla, and yet I do want to finish it, and all yardage counts! Last night a few of us from our Spinzilla team got together at Hill Country Weavers and spun for a couple of hours and I finished spinning the first batt and made good progress on the second. I hope to finish it today--though it's already noon and I am still working on Other Things than spinning.

dark brown llama roving and Jig

The main project I had planned for Spinzilla is a blended yarn spun from dark brown llama and black merino sheep wool. The llama roving (roving is fiber which has been washed and then combed or brushed--brushing is called carding and is done with something that looks like a pet brush--so that it all lies in mostly one direction and is ready for easy spinning) is gorgeous, but I want to make a sweater out of it and llama fiber doesn't have any bounce to it like wool does. The bounce comes from the crimp of the fiber and it's what makes a baggy sweater go back into its original shape when you wash it. Llama fiber--at least the fiber I have--is more like silk and will have great drape, but it doesn't have crimp, so it won't have much memory and is likely to bag. That's why I want to blend it with the merino wool which is still a very soft fiber but also has good crimp and will help the sweater hold its shape. The bad news is that I don't know if I have any black merino on hand, and the batch I ordered from Ashland Bay isn't here yet and might not be before Spinzilla is over. The good news is that Austin is surrounded by great fiber stores, and the Happy Ewe in Jonestown has plenty of the exact roving I need. I'll take a road trip this afternoon after I get some more spinning in...

Empty bobbins and plied yarns--
Ready for Spinzilla!

Endings and Beginnings

Another chapter in Atlanta is now ended. Everything is out of our home of 13 years and we are scheduled to close on it, transferring it to the new family who will make it their own, this afternoon. I'd like to say I'm sad because of all the people I have in Atlanta, but I'm not. I'm sad at being away from them but not sad to let that house go and to embrace Stone's Throw more thoroughly. I need to move on.

And I wasn't the only one who needed to move on: The three fish from the pond in our backyard also had to find another home as the contractor doing repairs for the new owners had to drain the pond and leave it empty for several days so he could re-line it. So I bought a cooler, a pump with a couple of aerator stones, and a cigarette lighter adapter to run the pump, and the fish rode in the front seat of the UHaul with me to Austin. Now they have their own little pond on the back deck with some of the plants from the Atlanta pond (which were also going to be displaced by the work there) to shelter them. In fact I had so much fun setting up the pond for them that I set up another one on the other side of the deck seating area and stocked it with six little koi from the water garden store here. The longterm plan is to put a big pond in the front yard next year for fish and water lilies, but for now they are good on the deck.

I was in Atlanta last week and part of the week before to have another glass sale in the studio and for that one I even managed to part with some of my dragon's hoard: sheets of glass for stained glass from Youghiogheny, Kokomo, Fischer, St. Gobain, and even Fremont. I let go two of the unused fiberglass forms and patterns for Tiffany's koi and peony lamps that I had always planned to do, but never set aside the time. It felt good. I met a lovely couple of Makers and she wanted to pick up stained glass after a many-year hiatus. I enjoyed sharing my handpicked sheets from the past 30 years with her, and was even able to part with many of them with just a small twinge of regret. Domenick, who did date nights and taught glassblowing at the studio some years ago, bought the remainder of the hotshop equipment so now it's empty too. Oddly I am more sad writing about these endings now than I was when they happened.

Now I'm home, and today is the first day I've posted since summer ended and my favorite season of the year, fall, began. I love fall! To me it is the season when everything begins. In fall I can work in my garden and plan and plant for spring. Fall is the start of the textile season with spinning, weaving, knitting and crocheting taking the upcoming project stage. After the heat of summer breaks I finally have energy again and a whole season of pent up ideas to get to (I don't have energy for anything in summer and one of these years I'm going to plan it so that all I have to do is swim for exercise and lie around in a hammock the rest of the time and read).

Fall also ushers in Spinzilla, the annual handspinning event that starts today and takes place during American Craft Week to raise awareness of spinning yarn. Spinzilla is a great way to kick off the fall and winter fiber season as it's the perfect time to produce all the yarn needed for a a large project or to finish a spinner's split. Last year I worked on the alpaca roving that I split with Ruthann--the fleeces were from her animals, I spun the yarn and we each took half. This year I am going to make yarn from some Montana llama roving I have been saving and some black merino combed top I have coming from Ashland Bay for a big fall project. More on Spinzilla tomorrow.

Other beginnings this week include starting the Post-Instructor course in Ichiyo Ikebana with Executive Master Elaine Jo. I studied with her for several years in Atlanta but had to give it up for time constraints after I finished the Instructor certification. Now I am picking up again and studying with her remotely to finish my Master certification, and I am also going to start a study group (the precursor to an official class) in Austin for Ichiyo Ikebana. As a special treat, I get to attend the fall Ichiyo retreat south of Atlanta the first of November for three days. Ikebana also gets its own post later this week.

Lest ye think I have set glass on the wayside, fall is also time to work on websites, exhort galleries to order glass art for Christmas, and this year, it's time to finish setting up the glass studio! Last week's items moved from Atlanta included Bettina, the biggest glass kiln, and the rest of the furniture and tools (mostly molds) that I need for my work. I also brought my own stained glass tools--though no sheet glass yet: that's for the final move currently slated for the beginning of December. Yep, for this move I brought everything including the kitchen sink! Dan unhooked the big restaurant sink I had n the kitchen and now I need a plumber here to set it up. Later this afternoon I'll take a break from spinning to ship one order and work on two others.

But now it's time to SPIN! And I think I'll sit myself outside on the deck, by the ponds, and spin there.

Life Should Always Be Wabi Sabi

A quick post then off to a ferocious penultimate day before heading to Atlanta on Wednesday. The house is so still and quiet with all the people gone. I can almost hear the clock ticking from the other room in time with the kitten's softly jingling collar-bell. There may be no other humans here with me, but I am surrounded by all the animals. When I looked down at them I had to spend several minutes trying to get a good pano shot of them with the phone. I had to rule out the kitten right away as she is surveying us all from the top of the cat tower, but everyone else is on the floor surrounding my chair.

The day started with a beautiful sky that will have to be preserved by my imperfect memory as the photo I took, while lovely, doesn't do it justice. It was the latest in a weekend filled with lovely things. On Saturday, the spouse came home with four different kinds of flowers from HEB that he thought I might like to make into an ikebana. It was a lovely coincidence as on Friday I had looked up local ikebana chapters and was crushed to find that not only is there no Ichiyo ikebana in Austin, but the closest organization of any kind is in San Antonio and I can't see making that trip weekly even if they did have weekly activities. It has been a long time since I studied Ichiyo ikebana under Grand Master Elaine Jo in Atlanta, but I do not make any excuses for my first creation in  several years.

I whimsically called it wabi sabi ikebana--beauty in imperfection. But just making it was enough impetus for me to get out my ikebana books and start reviewing the principles of design and form again. While I am in Atlanta later this week and next, I hope to connect with Elaine to discuss other options for me to continue my study.

Oh dear, it's already 11:30. So though I would like to stay and let my fingers muse the day away, it's time to get a couple of kiln loads in and orders packed to ship before it gets too hot!

My FedEx Driver Is Going To Get Spanked

I made another couple of batches of killer smoothie yesterday and indulged to my heart's content (is there a limit to how much kale and spinach you should drink?), and as a result was awake and perky till after midnight. Presumably it wouldn't have such a stimulating effect without the cold brewed coffee. Dave made banana bread last weekend and he made a loaf for me with walnuts instead of chocolate chips--what can I say, I'm a purist. So this morning I sit to post, and as I look at my desk I realize what a wonderful encapsulation of my life it is: the smoothie, the bread, the family photo, the lovely view, the new Siyeh Studio website (in progress, not yet live) and the complete and utter, wanton chaos of the surface. I couldn't be happier. Even fiber is represented by the weaving pattern to the right of the laptop. No, I did not stage this photo. I plopped my breakfast down, opened the laptop (okay, I did switch to the screen with the website open on it instead of the login screen), and took the shot.

The past couple of days I spent solely doing things instead of trying to do them and write about them--it's all about the balance. Today it's Friday, I'm almost completely through the months-long backlog of drudgery on my to-to list, the kilns are cooling so I'm in no rush to fire, and my laurels feel pretty comfie for a bit of indulgent lounging and posting. To put the cherry on top of my morning, I just glanced over my right shoulder and said, "Alexa, set entryway Nest to 74 degrees", and the Amazon Echo Dot on my nightstand replied, "Setting entryway Nest AC to 74 degrees."

The one bit of potential strife looming on my list is a call to FedEx to ask why they keep leaving our packages (one of the ones yesterday weighed 40 lbs) on the street by our mailbox instead of delivering them to the porch. Not safe, bad if it rains (which it has been doing a lot), and inconvenient as dammit as we have to drive up to get the packages instead of just walking for the mail. (We're not talking a fifty-foot driveway here: we have to go the other end of the back 40 to get out mail.)

Next week I'm in Atlanta for what I hope will be the final studio sale and clean-out, but I'm not counting on it. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to make another trip out to load the last of the glass some time later this year. Between the big kiln, the kitchen sink (literally), two pieces of furniture I purchased from friends in the past couple of weeks, the last wire shelving, and the cases and cases of glass, this truck is going to be full to bursting.

Okay, off to Dirty Dog to (finally) bathe Baxter. I don't have the drain catchers to deal with all the fur he sheds, and I also don't have a way to tie him up while he's in the tub to keep him from jumping out. I'm going to take my own shampoo and rubber apron, and I am going to get him sparkly clean! Later today when he's dry, I'll clip his coat and his nails. Thanks Melinda for showing me how to clip him like a pro! Then it's time to do Gallifrey. Forget the tub: I'll just tie him up outside and use the hose...

Transpecos: Do Yourself a Favor and See It

The little cat has decided to help me post this morning. Joy. In all of my focused list-making there has been one thing that consistently failed to get added: Make coffee! I'm going on three days in a row with a craving for bean water, and no bean water to be had. Oh, sure, I could've pulled the drip coffee maker out of the back pantry and brewed some up, but that felt too much like failure, so I'm drinking diet Coke and eating blueberry PopTarts (we are also out of milk so I couldn't have cereal). First thing I did before sitting down to post: Set up the Toddy cold brew coffee maker so I will have coffee tomorrow. It takes 12-24 hours to brew--a difficult concept for an instant-gratification girl like me--but it is hands down the best coffee I've ever had and the concentrate makes a perfect Thai iced coffee.

Ah, lists. I need to get off of them and all the have-to-do's on them soon or I'm going to be finding myself in a "Meh" day again. You'd think at my age I'd know better, but I still see-saw between too much and too little in EVERYTHING. Today I will finish shopping for gifts for the teachers and staff at McCallum to whom I have chosen to be a secret pal this year, and I will deliver them. I will also fire two kiln loads. At long last I will finish our taxes for 2015 (I have never taken so long, and the end of the extension period is October 15). Everything on my list that is NOT one of those things can go hang itself and will be pushed off to another day. I have simply got to do something creative or I'll explode (you would think the kiln loads would count, but no). Of course what's probably going to happen is I'll get hijacked by a bunch of little things, and the three big things will stretch out, and before I know it the day will be over. Gah.

On a happier note, Dave and I went to see Transpecos at the Violet Crown Cinema last night and Greg Kwedar, the Austin area writer/director was there and gave a talk with a Q&A session afterward. I didn't even know it was a special showing when I bought tickets and it was so cool! What I liked most about the movie was the role choice played in it It started with the random flow of daily life, people and events pinging off of each other like atoms in a warm room. Every minute bringing an opportunity to make a decision until one choice is made. That choice cut down the available next choices, and each subsequent choice kept cutting down the characters options. It was like a net tightened around them, pulling them closer and closer into a place where there were no more choices, just one way to go.

The acting was incredible, and the cinematography was breathtaking. Kwedar said the entire movie was filmed in 16 days last June in the Chihuahuan Desert--the largest North  American desert covering over 140,000 square miles in New Mexico, Texas, and Mexico. Can you imagine 18-hour days filming in 120 degree weather? I thought the film was superb before I heard his talk, but I was especially impressed with the way they filmed. I talked with him for a few minutes afterward to get tips for Jessie on pursuing her dream of being a Director of Photography. He was very open, sharing, and encouraging. I wish I had known he was going to be there as I would have encouraged her to come with us instead of making it a date night.

They're At the Gate... My Daily Horserace Begins

Never in my wildest dreams--and some of my dreams lately have been pretty wild--did I think that at age 55 I would be looking up best practices for diaper pails on the Interweb. Unfortunately, an incontinent senior cocker spaniel has driven me to it. Welcome to my Monday.

On a happier, less smelly, note: Peyton and Lynne's tutelage last year on continental knitting has finally taken hold! I struggled and struggled with it last year and never quite got it. Last week I picked up the needles for a new project, pulled up the YouTube videos I had bookmarked on continental knitting for a refresher, and it just happened! I am now blissfully, speedily, knitting away on a gift with an upcoming deadline. Who knows? Maybe I'll actually finish this one!

I spent Sunday unpacking fabric and tools into the textile studio and as I was working, I made a vow: From now on, every other project that I work on in each technique must be a UUFO (most people have UFO's or Un-Finished Objects in their stashes. I have Ubiquitous Un-Finished Objects because they're, well, everywhere). So one new knitting project, finish one already on the needles. If I want, I can do two UUFO's in a row, but never two new. Same for crochet.

Today I'm all about the To Do list. I almost got through yesterday's tasks yesterday (for the first time in I-don't-know-how-long--I'm a bit over-scheduled) and I am determined to knock the rest of them out today along with today's. If I make it, there must be celebrating. One thing that might help me make this goal is if I STOP ADDING THINGS TO THE LIST! At some point the new things that pop into my brain need to go on tomorrow's list, or Wednesday's list, or some-day-other-than-today's list. On your marks, get set....

Mrs. Peacock in the Greenhouse With a Box Cutter

In a surprising twist, the first obscure room in our Clue game of a house that is ready for the depredations of Colonel Mustard is the greenhouse---aka the third studio. All of the boxes of tools and supplies that will eventually live there have not yet been unearthed from the garage, but the furniture is set up, the first round of boxes has been unpacked, the surfaces have been dusted, and (gasp) the floor has been mopped! Planned activities for that space include glass bead making/torchwork, silversmithing, jewelry making, textile dyeing, and soapmaking. It is the best space for all wet crafts as there is a tile floor with a drain in the middle of it, and it has a good deep sink with ample countertops on either side. It's also good for torch work as it is already equipped with an exhaust fan.

Unfortunately the motorized shades for it aren't currently working, nor is the exhaust fan so unless you get in there first thing in the morning and turn on the little AC unit asap, it rapidly gets to over 110 degrees and is unusable for anything but taking a sauna. In the winter it'll probably be a different story, but until I get the electrician to fix the broken systems, I won't be making soap, dyeing roving, or working on the torch!

This weekend is dedicated to yet more unpacking and settling in. As soon as I finish this post I am off to the newly renamed sunroom (it's now the fiber studio :-) to finish unpacking yarn, fabric, tools and books. That room is much more temperate (and pleasant) now that we have had motorized shades installed on the east wall (which is all windows) that block 95% of the UV rays and a significant amount of the heat. The fabric is surprisingly see-through making it enjoyable to be in that room and not too dark even when the shades are all the way down. We are putting the same shades outside the two upstairs rooms (Jessie's bedroom and workroom) to help with the cooling up there, and I will eventually put them on the west side of the fiber studio too to both help with temperature and to protect the textiles from fading.

Another improvement on the cooling front will be the installation of a couple of mini-split AC/heating units in the garage (glass studio). We already have one in the fiber studio and one in the third studio that the original owners of the house put in, and they turn out to be a great, economical, low-impact solution to cooling and heating ductless spaces. Sadly that project will have to wait until the garage doors have been replaced either with glass (my first choice for light and an open feeling to the studio, but more expensive and not really a good fit for the exterior style of the house) or new metal ones that are well-insulated.

Now off to the fiber studio to unpack more STUFF!

It's a Wonderful Life

I'm enjoying a late lunch/meal of the day at Manuel's on the patio in what has turned out to be an incredibly wonderful day! After I dropped J off at school I stopped at Thunderbird Coffee and Taproom for the most incredible honey nut latte. and a jalapeño bagel with cream cheese. Replete and joyous, I then took in a two-hour presentation put on by the Texas A&M AgriLife Extension service called To Bee, or Not to Bee. It was a great introduction to beekeeping in this area not only from a climate and horticultural perspective, but also because of the issue of Africanization of hives in this area and how to deal with more aggressive bees. At the presentation I made friends with the woman sitting next to me who raises chickens, whose father has bees, who is considering getting alpaca or goats, who wants to do the master gardener training, and who loves fiber... Kindred spirits! We talked about doing some shopping together at the Best Little Yarn Crawl in Texas and exchanged contact info. The only disappointing aspect of the experience was the absolute abhorrence of the representatives of the local apiary groups to Flow hives, which is what I have (and which I am very excited about). In fact as I read more, a lot of experienced beekeepers went up in arms when the Flow came out. I'm going to just keep my head down (which I am sooo good at), absorb info like a sponge, and make up my own mind.

Yesterday was pretty great too as I stopped off at Helios Fused Glass Studio to return the diamond hand pads Paul Tarlow so kindly had lent me and had a lovely long chat with him. I am very much looking forward to hanging out there and bonding with the others in the local Austin glass fusing community. Fusing Fridays, here I come!

And if all that friendly interaction wasn't enough, I have a FaceTime crafting session set up with Becky tomorrow morning. We're going to see if we can replicate something like our former weekly crafting sessions in Atlanta. I already do my weekly piano lessons through FaceTime and that's going well, so why not the ubiquitous Stitch & Bitch too? Daily, I feel more like a pioneer woman out in my little patch of rural wildness and I embrace the modern version of the quilting or sewing circle. Us pioneers have to take our socialization how we can get it.

Tonight is my first meeting with the Austin Weaver's and Spinner's Society. They seem to be a very active, friendly group with twice monthly meetings--one a program (tonight) and one a social spin (or whatever project you want to work on--they even have a weaving study group that starts meeting on September 22). I am glad to be joining this group because in addition to the super social and educational opportunities, I need a new outlet for all my alpaca roving, and I also have a 60" LeClerc loom I need to sell now that I picked up Martha this summer (the 60" 16-harness AVL production compu-dobby loom).

Now I'm off to have the blueprints for our house scanned and put into pdf for the landscaper who might be putting a green roof over the textile studio. Since we are having our roof replaced this fall we need to know if this is an option first. Wouldn't want to do it twice!

Settling In

It was a wonderful Labor Day weekend here in Austin, although we obviated the spirit of Labor Day by working hard unpacking all three days. Saturday, we hired a Task Rabbit worker and the three of us (Dave, the worker, and I) unpacked all the boxes of 5-lb frit jars. Sunday, Dave moved all of the boxes containing non-textile items out of the sunroom and into their proper location for eventual unpacking. Then we set-up the furniture in the sunroom and unpacked all the yarn. Monday, Dave got all the boxes of fabric out of the closet and into the sunroom, and we also unpacked all the 5-lb jars of glass powder in the studio. Dave finished by breaking down all the boxes and hauling them off to the side porch. In all he said we emptied over 100 boxes, moved 40 more, and the glass alone was just under 4,000 lbs... I can really see the textile studio and the glass studio coming together. (The former sunroom is so professionally laid out now that it has been renamed the textile studio.)

After all the lifting and moving and unpacking, yesterday I took it easy. Took Jessie to school, got a driver's license, had the dogs' invisible fence collars adjusted, talked to Bill at Elliott Metal about some new designs, and met a friend for lunch. It was a perfect morning! Then Jessie texted me, sick at school and needing to go home. After getting her tucked into bed with cold water and fresh sheets, I spent the rest of the afternoon quietly signing up for groups and organizations, scheduling their meetings and gatherings on my calendar, and generally expanding my local network. That was great too.

Today I started by making to-do lists and planning next steps for all my various undertakings, and in hindsight, I'm not sure forward-thinking is a good thing! Time seems to stretch on boundless and forever in front of me until I break it down into it's discrete units and pair those units with tasks. Then it all goes to hell. Putting all the different pieces of life and work that I am juggling into slots labeled days just doesn't work--they don't fit. It's like discovering outer space and instead of thinking of going to the moon, I am trying to plan (and schedule) the moon, mars, the next solar system, and a universe on the other side of the cosmos: The scope of the projects doesn't fit the tools I'm using to schedule them. The obvious answer is to put some things off for the distant, unscheduled future. In the past, the things put off would be the fun and exciting things. And then I would find myself hating my life as I trudged from have-to-get done to have-to-get done. This time I am going to take a suggestion from my friend Alyssa to heart: Instead of spending all of my time on drudgery until the drudgery is done, I am going to schedule two hours of fun project a day. That leaves seven hours of chores, and that's enough.

With that plan in mind I am off to get some chores done and then end the day with a little knitting or crochet!

That's Right, I'm Not From Texas

Though I'm not sure but that Lyle Lovett didn't mean Austin when he wrote that song. I am now an Austinite, or whatever you call us, too as I have registered my car here and will have a new Texas driver's license Tuesday. Austin: It's not in Texas, it's surrounded by Texas. I had thought to maintain my Montana registration and get a Montana license in assertion of my rootedness (and legally because I own a residence there). But I love Austin. This was a good move--for all that moving and unpacking are a royal pain in my ass. I am... happy.

It's a late post today because I wanted to write about my surprise for Dave (and I needed to make sure I could pull it off). Right now I'm listening to Paula Cole, "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" and gleefully awaiting Dave's return to the family manse. You wouldn't think registering the cars in Texas with its attendant mandatory two-hour wait at the DMV (with another abortive hour and a half trying to get a Texas driver's license--but that's another story) would be a source of joy and glee, but there you are.

Dave's vehicular pride and joy is his mini cooper convertible. As a surprise for him for his birthday, I got him custom Texas plates. He used to have sticker on the window with the same phrase, but it faded and fell off. The plates are of a more permanent nature. I also got customized plates for the mini van as I got "Siyeh" (which I couldn't do in Montana--someone already has it on a permanent plate there).

Tomorrow Dave is gifting me with his time and focus, and we are going to slay a significant number of boxes and move the sunroom (fiber place) and the garage (glass studio) to the next level. We are also task rabbiting someone to help with the hundred 35-lb boxes of frit. I have till 11:00 am to finally figure out where they are going to go so our task rabbit can move and unload them all.

In the meantime I await the nightly return of the spouse with the family chalkboard all prepped.

Pop-Tarts and Piano

Started my day with blueberry Pop-tarts and practicing piano. Hope I didn't get the Pop-tarts in the piano. The day actually started with an extra hour in bed as McCallum has a late start day today which means buses pick up an hour later, and classes start an hour later but finish at the usual time. Interesting way of managing school hours. I would think this would be a great strategy for school districts that need to make up snow days.

I also started the day feeling loved. I was a bit ashamed about my pity party yesterday, but I was amazed at the response to it! My next door neighbor--maybe coincidentally or maybe in response to my Facebook post--messaged me and asked me if I wanted to get lunch at an Indian buffet, and another friend texted to ask if I wanted to go for a pedicure this morning. I missed the lunch as I had bento with Dave, and I can't do the pedi as her schedule is very tightly tied into little ones' school and pre-school times and I have the Thermador tech coming to fix our oven this morning at the time she can go. But more important than participating in the activities was being asked. Now the next time I feel a bit cabin feverish, I know two people I can call about going out to do something.

So today I sit at my desk, it's covered with papers, the sun is shining, I haven't yet bathed the dog, and it's going to be a great day. Doesn't matter what I get done, it's going to be great.

Meh

I sit at my desk, the sun is shining, the flip-out drawer in front of the kitchen sink is finally installed and working, and I feel meh. I am out of the almond coconut milk I need for a killer smoothie. Maybe I'll just pour some cold press coffee over ice, splash in some creamer, and call it good enough. I have a feeling today's post is going to be a pity party so feel free to skip off somewhere else now.

I knew when we made this move that it would require a lot of work and would take a long time. But somehow I figured it would be done by the first of September and I would have all glorious fall to look forward to working in my studio, weaving, spinning, woodworking, baking, and gardening in addition to my regularly scheduled cleaning, laundry, maintenance chores. Instead, I have what feels like an unending stream of chores and tasks that do little to feed my creativity with no end in sight. I can't even look at a room in this house and says it's done (unpacked, fixed up, and ready for regular maintenance--preferably by someone else).  For the first time in years I am trying to do all the house cleaning myself, and it's not going well. Oddly enough, it's not the bathrooms, kitchen, or laundry that get me down; it's the hardwood floors. I have yet to figure out how to keep them dusted (with three dogs, two cats and a caged bunny all contributing daily fur) much less mopped. Toilets and catbox are the easiest as they are finite and quick. The floors go on forever and by the time I have dusted them from one end to the other, the first end is hairy again so I can't mop it.

If that weren't enough--and trust me, it is--I am not doing as well with the daily solitude as I thought I would. Last Saturday when we went to Dave's office and the comic book store, I would normally have stayed home. That would have been a father/daughter outing. But I just couldn't bear to be alone in the house for another day. Dave encourages me to go out, go to Hill Country Weavers, meet people, get involved in something. But I feel guilty leaving the house in the state it's in. He says it's fine. I think it's a disaster. Any joy I get from going out is wiped away when I get home by the weight of everything I didn't get done because I was out.

Today I am looking at shipping three orders for the studio, putting away a week's worth of laundry, changing the beds, vacuuming the carpets, cleaning the bathrooms, cleaning the kitchen, attempting to dust the floors, thinking about mopping them, cleaning out the vacuum and the two robot vacuums which are all full of pet hair, bathing Baxter, finding an orthodontist for Jessie and making her an appointment, contacting social security about getting my mom's tax forms for 2015, and getting both cars registered in Texas. There is no way on earth I am going to get through that list--especially adding the two fun things I have on tap which are making fresh linguini and pesto and having lunch with Dave. So there is absolutely no chance that I will get any further on unpacking and setting up the utility room (so I can finally see the floor in there to mop it), the sunroom (ditto the mopping), my desk (thank god no mopping), and the greenhouse (really that's just mopping), and the studio (which I will NEVER, EVER MOP!).

That means that when I wake up tomorrow, things will be pretty much the same as they are today with the exception of clean laundry and a clean dog. I still won't have found someone to mow the front grass (we no longer have a mower and I don't have the heavy work boots and long, thick pants to wear doing it to protect me from all the snakes that are probably in it), mopped the floors, or washed the windows. The apartment will still need painting, new floors, and some focused attention to get it ready to rent. And I still won't be comfortable inviting anyone over--for dinner or anything else--because I am so stressed about the state the house is still in three months after I moved in, and almost a year after we bought it.

Okay. Pity party over. Going to crank some music, roll up my metaphorical sleeves, and get working on the laundry.

Red On Yellow...

... Kill a Fellow,
Red On Black,
Leave it the hell alone, you're not a herpatologist!

That's not the way I learned the rhyme, but this is Dave's wisdom for his daughter who took the picture of said Micrurus tener tener, aka the Texas coral snake (we have our own species! Oh joy!), on our driveway as she was walking to get the bus to school. She wanted me to come out and look at it, but clothes were too much trouble, and I didn't think a large, naked woman in the driveway would fly--even in our rural neighborhood. The wildlife in our yard continues to be a source of joy and wonder--even if most of it is lethal in one way or another.

I obviously didn't get a second post out yesterday so today is the day to talk about Jessie's high school experiences to date. I don't get a flood of information every day from her: she's a quiet kid. But at the end of a week and a day she has decided she hates school. Not unexpected as she has only mentioned talking (willingly) to one or two other kids, none of her classes are sparking her (yet), and she dodged the pep rally last week by hanging out in the cafeteria. Apparently there were enough other kids with the same idea that there weren't any places left to sit so she stood in the cafeteria for half an hour until it was time to catch the bus home.

One of the first things she talked about (in amazement and with disgust) was the lack of respect the students show the teachers in many of her classes. They wear earbuds during class, talk loudly, and blatantly, repeatedly, ignore teacher instructions. This kind of behavior was not tolerated in Mr. Smith's class at the Waldorf School of Atlanta, and the one student who tried to pull it (a late-grade transferee from a public school) didn't last long in the class. McCallum is a different world. It's Austin's version of an older, inner-city high school with a fine arts program open to students across the district. With that designation comes diversity. Diversity, while good, doesn't mean good. Diverse is just lots of different. Exposure to different is good in that it expands one's world view and experience. But diversity in manners, diversity in politeness and kindness and honesty... those are just different, not good. J has been alienated, affronted, and appalled by some her fellow students' diverse behavior. At the end of her second or third day she mused that it might have been better if she'd gone to the Waldorf high school here because at least then she'd know what to expect.  But I have no doubts that, long term, this high school will provide a more meaningful experience for her and enable her to successfully interact with a more diverse group of people in the real world.

On a more positive note she seems to be confident in her knowledge of the materials being covered in her classes. She doesn't feel behind the other students, she's keeping up on her homework, and she seems to like her teachers. Expectations of the students are a bit lower than they were at Waldorf: They can use calculators on their algebra tests, and when taking quizzes on mapping in world geography they can use their books and the big map on the wall.

Of course Jessie wouldn't be Jessie if she wasn't practicing her super power. She is convinced that she has the power to make people overlook her--mostly teachers looking for someone to read aloud. However she said that she does raise her hand in class, and she does participate. Participation is good because a portion of her grade in every one of her classes is based on participation. She is already looking ahead to what film school she wants to go to after high school. But she is convinced that if she tries really hard she can make people ignore her. Heck, it works on me half the time.

So while the lunchroom has yet to be conquered, and friends have yet to be made, high school is turning out okay.

I Have a Desk!

Sitting at my new "desk", drinking the morning smoothie and munching on more of the sesame bread. It didn't cause any digestive distress yesterday so I figure it's safe to eat. However it reminds me a lot of lembas bread: I can see it being very nutritional and filling (especially in conjunction with the aforementioned smoothie), but it's already getting old. So far this morning I have tidied, practiced piano, and cleaned the cat box.

Now it's time to post and I have a couple of driving subjects for the day: the desk, and Jessie's first week at school. I may have to post twice today (gasp!). I don't think I have ever done that before. But before I go on, the dogs are jumping around like jacks so I think I need to take them for a quick walk down the street. They can look for lizards, and I can look for Pokemon. Back in a few...

.....

So about the "desk"... Got it set up this past weekend. It's a "desk" instead of a desk as it's really just a 3X6 sheet of plywood on sawhorses, but it's better than the dining room table. Dave and Jessie think so too as we might now be able to eat without having to shift mounds of papers out of the way! It's especially nice because it comes with a great view (out of the bedroom window into the backyard). Part of the view this morning included what looks to me like a juvenile hawk or eagle. It's definitley not a vulture which is what am used to seeing. (The turkey vultures are enormous and soar on the thermals looking for, I don't know, dead things.

The desk even has its own cat tree already occupied with cats! Though the
cat tree this morning is going against the natural order as Pavlova is on the top and Kaiju is on the bottom. Even after winning the top spot she still can't resist coming down to annoy him... I can tell it's going to be hard to get things done at this spiffy new desk--too many distractions!

You might wonder why I didn't just buy a desk. I'm afraid I am lost in a new project space: Furniture. And everywhere I look, I see a potential building/redoing project. This new artisanal space was introduced to me back in the spring of 2015 when I did an inlay project for Jessie's class auction project for school. I have wanted to do more of that type of work ever since, but haven't had time. Arguably I still don't have time, but the idea stayed in my head and now it's expanded to include glass and lighting. And Dr. Who. In fact for the desk project, I may not do any wood inlay at all. Instead I may focus entirely on straight lines and common geometric shapes (circles, triangles, etc.) and if I do, I won't inlay. Instead I'll route out narrow grooves for all the lines, stain the wood on either side of the lines different colors (oak, ebony, walnut, ash, e.g.,) and then fill in the routed lines with black something-or-other. I'll still do glass inlay, however.

As part of the work I do with Todd, I drill circles out of my finished pieces with a core drill and a drill press. Till now the glass circles were a by-product which occasionally got used in pieces by Todd, or which I thought might make interesting jewelry. They come in diameters from 1/2" to 4", but most of them are about 1.25", and they are 1/4" to 3/8" thick. After they have been cut out, I grind the sides with my lap grinder and then fire polish them so they are all nice and shiny but still have straight sides and crisp edges.

Now I want to inlay them in wood with the hole they are in going all the way through the wood so light shines up from underneath/behind. Because the glass is thick and the colors can be dark, if there is no light the glass will look meh. That's where the lighting comes in. I am working with our electrician here to create some led rings that can be mounted with the glass so that it's lit up. The wiring will be channeled through the wood and come out in a standard plug. We might even (at some point) make the lighting work with a rechargeable battery pack so furniture like tables and chairs won't have to be placed near an outlet. The other pieces of furniture I want to do this way are a headboard for our bed (built from scratch) and our dining room table refinished, inlaid and retrofitted with lights). The dining room table will definitely be inlaid with wood and the glass circles as I want to do organic, meandering cracks (like the one in the original games cabinet). I'll post pics as I go.

Now it's time to head out to the studio to put a slump load in the kiln, finish a wall panel with a Hang Your Glass system, and wait for USPS to deliver my grinding pads so I can polish up an 8"x13"x1" slab that I am supposed to ship to New Jersey today...

Oculus Rift

I woke this morning with the urge to post. The urge increased as I went through my (late--it's Sunday so I didn't get up early) morning routine. I had things to say. Things about the second taste of the sesame bread (which Dave liked and which hasn't caused either of us distress...yet), things about making another batch of killer smoothie. Things about practicing piano, the beauty of the sound of the alto Japanese scale windchimes in the light breeze. Just things. But I felt I needed to get my kiln load in before luxuriating in a post. So now the kiln is firing, and my earlier inspirations have gone away. The lesson learned is to take time to write when the fire of creativity strikes.

However there is one subject worth covering and that is our experience playing on the Oculus Rift (the gameplaying thingie referenced in yesterday's post) at Dave's office yesterday.  Wow. Just, wow. It is to playing video games what IMAX is to small movie theatre screens. Think of the first time you saw the undersea movie at teh IMAX and were sure you were going to eaten by the shark.

J and I both took turns on the OR and some of the things you can do/watch are very disorienting--like the Valkyrie game. Some of it is flat-out stunning (the intro to VR) and some of it is just so cool--the "home screen" which isn't a screen at all, it's a luxury home surrounding you with furnishings, art--and no dustbunnies or dirty dishes. Of course you have no body either so it's a bit disconcerting to look down. At least in Valkyrie you have a body--which totally creeped Jessie out when she looked down while playing. Apparently with just the right angle you see a headless body and that was just too much for her. I had to strain to get to see the top of the neck where the head should be--I mostly just saw my very cool, thin, black-leather-spacesuit-clad body.

As I played some mountain goat game I harkened back to hanging out at Keith and Mike's and watching Keith play Super Mario Brothers. It was an addictive game, and I'm glad I never had it as I could see myself playing for hours. The Oculus Rift is a similar toy. If we had one at home, Dave and Jessie would leave for the day and I would just sit and play in my own little world all day. Dave did not try it out, though you can hear him snorting in the background in one of the videos as Jessie tried to take the controller away from me. When I think of some of the visually stunning (and disturbing), intense (and disturbing), and dark (did I mention disturbing?) video games he likes to play, like the Bioshock series and Batman Arkham I can't imagine them for the OR. Those were creepy enough on the big screen tv being surrounded by those worlds would drive me insane. Now back to Conman and Pokemon Go. Need to give my sensory input a rest.