Three more repeats on Miss Clapotis down tonight. I swear, I am starting to hate looking at this thing. Started ball #2, so that is something at least. It really is knitting up beautifully. But I’m at the “could do the repeats in my sleep” stage, and maybe that’s a cue to pick up the painter’s scarf for a while.
The children continue at camp and I periodically find pictures of them on the website. Mostly of the oldest, as the youngest is rather camera shy. It makes me laugh.
There’s my kid showing up in all the camp pictures, a solitary island in a sea of Abercrombie and Fitch summerwear. An island wearing a ratty thrifted tee shirt sporting an overly made up drag queen on it, bleached blond mullet, armful of bracelets, ripped up thrifted jeans – making the “power fist”. My kid, who shows up in the “Toga party” pictures wrapped in a bedsheet that she’s strategically shortened with scissors and paired with black cowboy boots and Siouxie Sioux eyeliner and hair. My kid is nominally the assistant counselor-in-training and so partially responsible for a cabin full of little girls this summer. I think to myself that if she’d been the co-counselor when I was a kid at camp, I’d have thought she was the coolest. thing. ever. and gone home and tried to emulate her. Then I think to myself… “well. Cool. There are far worse things to emulate. Maybe she’ll teach them to think off the map.”
We are THAT family and we are viral. This is not a bad thing.
I had a real doozy of a rant prepared for this space earlier but I am trying to chill the hell out with the unkind ranty evil wordage. I am trying hard not to gossip, say mean things about people or perpetuate that kind of thinking. It’s *hard*. I didn’t realize how often I think unkindly or uncharitably about things. I didn’t realize how many snap judgements I make and how readily I voice them, until I started this as a sort of spiritual practice and also to get my stress levels down. I guess that not *speaking* is a good place to start. I can work on the thoughts as I go.
I will endeavor to think only good things about The Painter’s Scarf tomorrow when I pull it out of the knitting gulag.
Have a safe and happy 4th, whatever you may do.