Posted on November 7, 2004 at 3:10 pm
First of all, thank you to everyone for all of your kind words of support and the compliments on the bag. You guys are the best, and I usually reply to the pithier comments, but I can’t get to it right now because we have just changed our family schedule enough so that I have about half of the free time I’ve grown accustomed to having, and I’m hoping that soon it will all work out as The Boy settles into his new school, and I get a handle on (among other things) an article due next week and the end of the season gardening hacking and raking.
Now, I’m not one usually for telling you a lot about my life besides knitting, because mostly this is a knitting blog. It’s true, I’ve mentioned my garden, shown you a few of my kids and my cat–who is now passed on, and my dog, who wonders where his buddy the small orange curmudgeon went all of a sudden. Maybe I don’t tell you too much because I have intimacy issues, and I don’t want you getting too close just in case I decide to pull a Wendy. Or maybe I give away far more than one would expect for a blog that is, ostensibly about–of all things– knitting. (My husband claims that it’s really about punctuation because, after all, does anyone in the blogsphere use more punctuation than I do?
But I’m not thinking about knitting so much at the moment, since I’m heartsick from four years of plotting revenge and having all come to naught, and I am trying to just finish what I have on the needles, and that’s not very exciting. But this I will tell you: We went to see Rickie Lee Jones in a solo acoustic show last night at the High School. She was terrific. My husband listens to her new album often because it is so well-recorded and sounds decent on his crazily perfect sound system, so he wanted to go and see her live. That plus it was a bono-fide cultural event here in our little pre-Revolutionary War town, and we would never live it down among our chums if we weren’t there.
I used to love RLJ. I took a two-day Greyhound bus ride home from college at Christmas years ago (my parents wouldn’t come get me because they were having a party) and all I had in my walkman was a tape with her first two albums on it. It was surreal ride that I mostly remember as a four-in-the-morning-lights-in-the-distance-wormhole with Rickie singing in my ear "weeeeeee, belong to-ge-ther. . . weeeeeee, belong to-ge-ther."
She did a lot of the songs from those two albums, and I can’t believe that after all these years, having never really thought about those songs or never having been enough of a vocal contortionist to sing along with anything she ever did, how strong was the impulse last night to just belt out along with her, and how much of the words I knew. It felt like instinct. Today, fired up by being there, I wanted to write the great American novel. I was touched by how much of a spacey funny completely astonished to be in a 50 year-old-body person she was (in spite of the pink crocheted poncho which was an obvious camouflage gesture, but that’s cool). She also said some very angry things from the stage that I agreed with, and she dedicated the concert to the citizens of Falluja. That felt good. Sad, but good.
And she sang Ugly Man.
I’m in danger of becoming a LiveJournal maudlin teenager, I know. I promise that I will have something knitting related up and running for you to read by Wednesday. I am currently in a frenzied state of search for more Jamieson "port wine" (my LYS is out of stock) for the side panels of the Floral Felted Bag because I am inexplicably out either because my gauge is off (way off) or the pattern is wrong. And it’s SUNDAY! Geeezuz why do I have to live in a state where the liquor store are open but all the yarn stores are closed!