Best Quote I Heard All Day
A friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself--Jim Morrison
After last weekend filled with friends, who love me for myself, now I'm moving next door to a dearly beloved friend who epitomizes Morrison's quote.
This is what I had alluded to in a previous entry, and now it has become reality. I will be moving to East Stroudsburg, PA, right over the Delaware River from New Jersey. Into the apartment next door to Neal's, a lovely one-bedroom place with a back porch and much lower rent. I am leaving the kids to do their own thing. It's time, for me and for them.
The move will take place slowly, over the next two months, because I want to wait until after the holidays and to give the kids a chance to find a place for themselves.
Over the course of the past five and a half years, I have been through many changes, most for the better. Ups and downs, back and forth, with lessons learned and many tears shed. For those of you who have shared those times with me, know that I have grown enormously. Even reading the early blog entries, I can see the difference.
Independent, happy, fulfilled. I never thought I would get to this place. I have. Yo, Jimmy! I done did good, no?
But I am still a Jersey girl. And I always will be.
Open Mic Thursday
This topic actually came up in the course of Wolverina correspondence today. I was on the road back from Maryland (no, didn't have time to go to the yarn shop in Hyattsville--I had three staff members and six drivers to train), sitting in gawd-awful stopped-dead traffic outside of Philly in miserable weather.
The work Blackberry allows me to read my e-mail, and there was quite the discussion about a Rhinebeck attendee who whined about how the festival was child-unfriendly, how people were rude to her as she pushed her stroller through the buildings (and how there was no yarn specials--WTF?).
This is a hot-button topic.
Should people bring their kids to fiber festivals or into yarn shops, and expect these places to be child-friendly?
I will say this: My children, who were quite well-behaved (because if they weren't, they got the Look, at the very least), were never taken to events that were primarily for and about adults.
First of all, I believe that subjecting children to situations where they will become bored and fractious within five minutes is selfish on the part of the parents. Second, as much as you love your kids, other people won't, especially if you try to push a large stroller through a crowded building. While I would happily give way to a handicapped person in a wheelchair who wanted to shop, kids in strollers are not the ones shopping.
If you can't leave the kids at home with a sitter or an indulgent grandparent, don't go. I didn't go much of anywhere with the kids until they were at least 12 or so. If I wanted to go to the yarn shop, their father watched them. If he couldn't, I didn't go until he was available.
Not every damned thing needs to be a family affair. Sometimes you need to leave the rugrats at home. And go by yourself. It'll do the whole family good if you do.
Happy Birthday, Bunky Bear
My first baby is 38 years old today, sharing her birthday with the Charge of the Light Brigade, that infamous military blunder of the Crimean War.
My God, I was so young. Nineteen years old, and as you can see, quite the hippie chick. Crocheted floppy hat, clogs, paint-spattered jeans. Other than the hat, I haven't changed much, fashionwise. Once a flower child, always a flower child.
Jenn is the mother of my "Little Guy", Mr. Ian, a software QA analyst, a top-notch seamstress and embroiderer, and like her mother, a voracious reader. When she has time, she plays the Celtic harp.
Half a league, half a league, half a league onward. Happy birthday, sweetie. Mamoo loves you.
Those who know me, know that music plays an enormous part of my life. Classical music, rock, folk, you name it, if it's got a singable melody, I'll listen.
So tomorrow night, I'm going to a taping at our local Cablevision studio of Aztec Two-Step, Rex Fowler and Neal Shulman, courtesy of my friend Bob, who's been a cameraman and now producer there. Anyone remember them? Wonderful duo from the '70s who are still singing. Bob says I can bring my camera and take pictures when the camera isn't rolling. This taped show, "Horses Sing None of It," will be shown on various cable stations, from what I understand.
And the beat goes on. I always wanted to be Chrissie Hynde, a most rare and handy singer, but my stage these days is in the car. For all motorists who enjoy my basso profundo.