What happened to Four? It was, so to speak, a moment of silence.
Thank-you so much to everyone who commented yesterday with words of comfort and sympathy - it did mean a great deal. The whole affair was fittingly peaceful and dignified, and there are no regrets, although the empty spot is somehow bigger than I anticipated.
Deep breath - and back to work.
The string bag is making progress:
I think I'll knit this guy to the point where he comfortably cradles a 4L jug of milk and then finish off with big eyelets and I-cord. Don't know if I'll get the pattern posted before we move, though.
My daughter called me in to her bedroom the other day, excitedly insistent that I photograph her creation: "You could use this for one of your knitting pictures," she said. "Or even jewellery!" She's quite right, of course. It's great fun to watch her developing an eye for form and colour - and I found the "familial" nature of this little group completely charming. (My son, on the other hand, would have divided them into "good guy" and "bad guy" pinecones, with the bad guys strewn in bits at the feet of the victors. This, despite the fact that we have employed a studiously anti-violence, no TV, gender neutral toy philosophy of child-rearing. I guess some things really are genetic.)
It occurs to me that it might be prudent to mention exactly what we are doing with this move, since it is happening in stages, which will, to some degree, discombobulate my computer activities.
August 19th we get up very early, finish loading our truck to the rafters, stuff in a couple of kids, a Wolfhound, and a cage containing one very motion sensitive cat who may or may not be white and sweet smelling at journey's end. We then drive 12 hours to my parents' home in Creston, BC and spend a couple of days recovering and eating far too much. (At this point, I hope to post a few photos). August 22nd we again get up very early, load the truck with all the aforementioned stuff, plus a few Mom goodies and drive 12 hours to Whistler.
Rob has three weeks of leave to spend with us, and then flies back to Moose Jaw to finish up his last month of work. (Sadly), the computer stays in MJ to keep him company while he finishes up whatever I didn't get sorted, and the house gets sold. First week of October, the moving truck picks up the remainders, he flies back to BC and life assumes a semblance of normalcy.
What this means is that for six weeks I will be blogging from an Internet cafe, minus the files and bits of software I take for granted - most grievously, the photoeditor which allows me to play with charts and pixels - and just when I am finally surrounded by amazing subjects of inspiration. I do, however, have a box of Prismacolors, a sheaf of graph paper, and a camera, so one way or another, the show will go on. I'm a firm believer in viewing obstacles and limitations as catalysts for creativity and invention. It will also be a prime opportunity to spend more time surfing and researching for the collection of links and tutorials.
Of course, there will be knitting and designing. I have several exciting projects taking shape at the moment - they simmer away half-consciously while I sort and clean, and every so often I make a dash for pen and paper when something gels. (At least that's how I see the creative process - my DH thinks I spend an inordinate amount of time standing motionless over half-finished tasks, staring blankly at the wall and drooling ever so slightly.)
Speaking of half-finished tasks, this is starting to look suspiciously like avoidance blogging. The basement awaits!