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Aug. 26th, 2006 05:15 pmAt breakfast this morning I was watching the line cook through the little window from the dining room into the kitchen, his movements economical, precise, and fast, his head turned one way while his hands reached out widely. It was an intricate, frenetic dance, one I admire greatly, being one of the worst cooks ever. It struck me suddenly, one of those all too rare moments of wonder - we've come such a very, very long way from our evolutionary origins. From the earliest ancestors of life, of humanity, to line cooks, train operators, surgeons. I just sat there watching, feeling mightily impressed by us.
I've second-guessed myself out of going to NY Sheep and Wool again this year. I'm just not far enough ahead in my backlog, I've got yarn for no less than three sweaters in the queue, plus a couple of projects I'm ripping out and recycling entirely, plus a pound and a half of cotton, three quarters of a pound of alpaca, and about a half pound of flax, all waiting to be spun. Since the major attraction to NYSW is the shopping, I'm really not in a position to buy right now, and that would be frustrating. Next year, then. I'm a little grumpy about it, but I've no one to blame but myself. My time management skills still need some work, as does my choice of projects - I tend to favor large, complex things in a very small gauge.
Still waiting for my divorce decree, as we've hit the point where it's 'any day now', but it'll be any day now for another three weeks. By mid-September I expect I'll be lurking in the foyer for the mailman every day.:) I'm still not entirely sanguine about the relatively undiscovered country of marriage (my future father in law laughingly tells me my first one didn't count, but in all seriousness, considering the condition I was in for that year, I'm inclined to agree - the lights were on, but I surely wasn't home), and in considering my unease about it I'm finding a lot of junk.
It's amazing, how certain things can stay with a person. Back when Sir was working at Sony a conversation came up where he had to explain that I was the person who ironed his shirts. His coworkers first question was if I was actually American, or foreign - they expected me to be foreign. When he explained I'm American, they told him in that seriously joking way; "That'll stop once you're married." That infuriated me, and does to this day, years later. For one thing, it calls my honesty into question, but even more than that, it's a perpetuation of wholly ridiculous stereotypes about marriage, ones that haunt the back of my mind with alarming frequency.
Sir says marriage will mean whatever we decide it does, and I know he's right, but it's my mind that knows that, while my emotional understanding is somewhat less sensible. That'll change over time, of course, but it's still interesting to see the ideas that dog my steps when I walk into unfamiliar territory.
I've second-guessed myself out of going to NY Sheep and Wool again this year. I'm just not far enough ahead in my backlog, I've got yarn for no less than three sweaters in the queue, plus a couple of projects I'm ripping out and recycling entirely, plus a pound and a half of cotton, three quarters of a pound of alpaca, and about a half pound of flax, all waiting to be spun. Since the major attraction to NYSW is the shopping, I'm really not in a position to buy right now, and that would be frustrating. Next year, then. I'm a little grumpy about it, but I've no one to blame but myself. My time management skills still need some work, as does my choice of projects - I tend to favor large, complex things in a very small gauge.
Still waiting for my divorce decree, as we've hit the point where it's 'any day now', but it'll be any day now for another three weeks. By mid-September I expect I'll be lurking in the foyer for the mailman every day.:) I'm still not entirely sanguine about the relatively undiscovered country of marriage (my future father in law laughingly tells me my first one didn't count, but in all seriousness, considering the condition I was in for that year, I'm inclined to agree - the lights were on, but I surely wasn't home), and in considering my unease about it I'm finding a lot of junk.
It's amazing, how certain things can stay with a person. Back when Sir was working at Sony a conversation came up where he had to explain that I was the person who ironed his shirts. His coworkers first question was if I was actually American, or foreign - they expected me to be foreign. When he explained I'm American, they told him in that seriously joking way; "That'll stop once you're married." That infuriated me, and does to this day, years later. For one thing, it calls my honesty into question, but even more than that, it's a perpetuation of wholly ridiculous stereotypes about marriage, ones that haunt the back of my mind with alarming frequency.
Sir says marriage will mean whatever we decide it does, and I know he's right, but it's my mind that knows that, while my emotional understanding is somewhat less sensible. That'll change over time, of course, but it's still interesting to see the ideas that dog my steps when I walk into unfamiliar territory.
