the Village Knittiot

When the world seems to be unravelling at its seams there is no antidote to despair and hopelessness like a bundle of fur and love.

Eliot joined our eccentric little family on Friday July 21st and he has been busy sleeping, exploring, loving and licking his way all over our lives. At the moment he is snoring away on the couch right next to me, contentedly dreaming his doggie dreams and in general just settling right in as if he has always been here.

I am absolutely, head over heels in love.

I have noticed over the last couple of years that Summer usually brings with it a bit of a lull in the blogosphere — or at least the portions of it I tend to gravitate towards. I think during this time of year we are probably more willing to actively engage with the world around us and we don’t need the digital buffers of a virtual community as much (or, at least, this sometimes introvert doesn’t). In essence we want to get out in our backyards and smell the proverbial roses and maybe watch the grass grow a little, figuratively speaking (and if you’re the sort who isn’t terrified of bugs and things like lyme disease or west nile virus, probably literally as well).

For my part, the quiet around the Village lately is due to a number of things. For one, I still feel like I am recovering from the frenzied pace that marked the beginning of my first summer here in Philadelphia. The crazy work schedule followed by the exhausting visit with my family has left me with a great fondness for naps and sleeping in (a luxury I rarely afford myself). And, while the knitting and spinning and fleece processing continues, it does so at a much slower pace. My summer of knitting naturally has been a tremendous part of this as, more than ever, I think before buying.

I have also finally accepted the fact that I am not the kind of person who enjoys purchasing other people’s patterns and making them, that I will not readily plunk down a sizable amount of cash for a collection of someone else’s designs. It is just not something I do (easily). I simply want knitting to occupy this space in my brain that is something like second nature. I want to be able to just find yarn that I like and use it to create something of my own. I know this is not a new expression of desire for me. I’ve said it at least a dozen times. And I’ve lamented my lack of knowledge and the lack of classes that explain on a fundamental level just how this knitting thing works. I’m not talking about purls and knits and step-by-step instructions that walk you through a specific pattern or isolated technique. I want something that will give me a knitting foundation. You know, the kind of instruction people used to get when having socks and sweaters depended not on your ability to buy a $35 book and follow directions, but on knowing how to take yarn and turn it into a sweater or pair of socks that fit the intended recipient.

But to blame the lull here on slower, more process-oriented knitting wouldn’t be entirely accurate. The truth is, I’ve been a lot more preoccupied with thoughts about writing, or to be more accurate, what I want to accomplish over the next couple of years. I’ve also been reading a lot (which further reduces the amount of knitting time I have). At this point, I’m not sure how blogging fits in to all of this, or rather, I’m not sure how blogging about knitting fits into that. And while I recognize that I haven’t ever blogged exclusively about knitting, it has provided a framework for what is here. However, I find myself feeling a bit limited by that framework lately. Fiber and its various incarnations are only a part of my life and there are avenues I’ve been wanting to explore and haven’t felt able to in this space.

When I first started blogging, I was really struggling with my writing. It had become a source of tremendous stress for me and the act of writing something out here where it was visible to the world was an important act at the time. Blogging became a tool by which I was able to rediscover my voice and while it might sound melodramatic, it saved me at a time when I was in want of a little saving. Then there was the unexpected and very welcome side effect of finding this little community of amazing people who were supportive, surprising, creative and thoughtful. I don’t want to lose that, but lately I’ve been feeling as if my focus is split. I’m wanting to make some changes but I’m not quite sure yet what they are. Until then, I suspect the Village will continue to be a little on the quiet side.

I’m sorry to co-opt the knitting blog space for a moment, but I wanted to assure you that the issues with the Village Knittiot will be resolved within the next 48 hours, and hopefully much sooner. I’ve got an ugly temp solution in place that allows you to view the main page, but trying to navigate the site will only result in frustration and confusion.

Again, I’m sorry. The problem lies with our host as they transfer us all to new servers and is entirely out of our hands.

Update: We seem to be back to full functionality across all domains and return you to your regular programming!

I have always held to the idea that each person we encounter is a mirror that gives us a glimpse of our own reflections and that if we want to gain some idea of what we are projecting into the world, all we need to do is look at those reflections and see what is staring us back in the face. There is, however, something a little different about the mirror and the reflection that your family provides to you. It is more personal, more intimate, often more uncomfortable and always more enlightening — even if a little painful at times.

Last week my family came out to visit us and after spending nearly a week together (both here in Philadelphia and a couple of days in New York) I was pretty tired of looking at my reflection in that particular mirror. I’m not really ready to talk about all of it yet. There is a lot of processing to be done and I don’t think I’m going to get the perspective that I need until I’ve gotten some distance from the situation.

Good times were definitely had, like the time we spent sitting in the Quaker church and hearing about the philosophy behind the founding of Philadelphia, which made me love my adopted city all the more. And of course there were the obligatory hair-pulling moments and the depressing miserable ones, like the time I started crying by myself in a Starbucks on Wall Street in the midst of a bunch of well-dressed stock brokers.

My family can be maddening, no doubt, but underneath all of the dysfunction and craziness is a tremendous amount of love. They don’t love perfectly (and yes, I know, who does?), but they do love deeply and when it comes right down to it, they want the best for me. That sometimes makes things harder, but it also makes it easier. And, of course, I’m not entirely without my own role in our little family drama. So, there you go. Let me just say that I saw myself more clearly than ever this week and that is going to have some repercussions.

So, now that work has calmed down and my family has gone I am looking forward to things getting back to something resembling normal around the Village. Maybe this week I’ll even manage to finally get my tomatoes in the ground. Think it’s too late? How long is the growing season here anyway?

And on another note, does anyone have any good suggestions for dog breeds that are good for people who have allergies?