Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom

Hey, Anna-Liza here. Just a quickie before I go to bed. I must sleep soon and long, or I will probably die. Or at least be very cranky.

We went to Steamboat Springs Friday night, drove back Saturday afternoon, then I drove to Denver to go to Marin’s  ”Girlfriends’ Guide to Gaming” Nintendo party. Oh yes, I did! It was all fun, and the scenery was grand for lots of it, but 10 hours of driving in 36 hours is … a little much. Even if Darlin’ K did most of the actual driving and I spent most of my energy mentally shielding us from all the idiots who think the painted lane lines are mere suggestions. But I’d better not go into that rant.

Steamboat was earthy, Burning-Man-ish, hot-springs-and-fire-and-clothing-optional. Marin’s party was girly (in a good way), urban, polished, wine-and-high-heels-with-jeans. Both were very funfunfun and I’d like to do them again, but not both on the same weekend.

I got some pretty nice photos of Steamboat, although not of the fire spinning. I was afraid I’d drop or lose the camera at the hot springs. I’ll share soon. (Lyda.) I didn’t take any pictures at Marin’s party, but she might have some when she posts about it. I will say the snacks were delicious and the party favors exceptional–we each got a charm bracelet, a Nintendo DS Lite, and a Brain Age² game. That’s a good thing, because when I played it, I tested at a brain age of 52. I am not 52. (Marin tested at 32. Bitch.)

Oh yeah. Sleep. That might help my brain age more than all the training in the world. Ya think? And I am driving nowhere tomorrow!

Anna-Liza here again. I really can’t do justice to my subject, but I can’t ignore it entirely, either. It doesn’t help that I completely forgot to bring the camera for Solfest. Someone else has promised me pictures of Darlin’ K firespinning in front of the stage, but he hasn’t emailed them yet. I’ll post some if he ever does—he said they were good ones. And I’ll tidy up the Wool Market loose ends later. Really! Anyway, my solstice celebration was a bit more active than Lyda’s, but every bit as pleasant.

Most of last week, I left work as close to on-the-dot-five as I could manage, made a pit stop at a fast food place, and then hustled over to the Double Rainbow Ranch for a series of four workshops with Aumrak. I’m still absorbing and processing what happened for me there, but I will say it was gentler and sweeter than I was prepared for, and yet I know I did some very deep work. In terms of forms, we did everything from formal ceremony to guided meditation to two straight hours of dancing as parts of our work, and every bit of it built on what came before. Darlin’ K was super-supportive of this whole thing, uncomplainingly taking sole charge of the kidlets for three nights in a row, listening to me talk about my process, even listening to me sing to him! Now there’s a man in a million.

I was very pleased with the workshops and very happy to get to work with Aumrak. She is very gentle in her approach, but that gentleness in no way dimishes her power. It’s an example and a lesson for me, and I hope I “got” it. My fellow “workshop-mates” and I helped her prepare the fire and mandala for the Solstice ritual at Solfest. That was also very satisfying and fun into the bargain.

The music at Solfest was every bit as good as I’d hoped. Darlin’ K did some firespinning with Lunar Fire and got a really positive response. The man really has no idea how beautiful he is when he does that. I feel like I have to beat him over the head with the positvie feedback he gets from the audience afterward! He also organized and ran the free spinjam that happened after Lunar Fire’s set, while Muse of Turiya performed. I gave up and went back to the tent to sleep after about 12:30 or 1 a.m., but Darlin’ K stayed up and drummed with the drum circle until 3-ish.

The music started at 4 p.m. Saturday, went until 2 a.m. when the drum circle started, then started again 10:30 Sunday morning until 3:45, when we had the closing circle. And there was a big ol’ potluck brunch on Sunday in the middle of everything, too. Oh, and let us not forget Sunday morning yoga, which was about 2 hours long and very gently nearly killed me — although that was my own fault, really. I didn’t have to try to do all of the poses, or hold them for quite so long. I didn’t do any knitting, although I had some with me (of course), but I did do lots of spinning. Practicing with my hand spindle just seemed to fit the setting and the music.

The site was beautiful–a little valley in the foothills, lots of trees, a really pretty creek running through it, lots of space, actual bathrooms with running water and showers! And peacocks. Oh! and wild turkeys–real ones! (I suppose someone might have had some of the alcohol variety, too.) They gobble and look just like the cartoons. I’d heard them before, but I’d never gotten a good look at one–they’re usually just a little movement in the trees, that you’re not really sure you saw. It was all very comfortable and friendly. I overheard one woman say it was like a mini Rainbow Gathering, but without the sketchy part. I admit I spent most of my time wearing batik and tie-dye.

Oh, and I got a henna tattoo. During the opening circle at Solfest, a big yellow and black butterfly came and hovered right in front of me, just at the level of my heart. I took it as a sign of transformation, and so that’s what my henna tattoo was–a butterfly and a heart. I had Darlin’ K take a picture before the henna paste came off, because I wasn’t sure it would darken enough to be visible in a photo after. Here’s a close-up of my henna’d chest (do try to contain your excitement):

If ever I get over my needle phobia long enough to get real ink, it will most likely be something like that.

Hi, Anna-Liza here, of course. I call myself a “restrained yarn whore” because I had $6 left over when I was done shopping, but I decided to just eat the muffin I brought with me (Morning Glory from Java Stop, yum) rather than getting a full meal for lunch, so I could spend my lunch money on fiber. (The meal would have cost $7, so it turned out to be a good idea.) Lyda would like to be a yarn whore, too, but she’s too busy at the moment preparing to be a yarn whore creating room in her house and collecting weird links for you. Speaking of yarn whores, have you read this post of Franklin’s? Probably, because if you read here you very likely read there, but if you missed it go read that first. Really. I’ll wait. You can even come back here tomorrow if his thoughtful musings put you out of the mood for fiber shopping reports.

The fiber photo was, of course, a still life of all my purchases at Wool Market. We’ll work our way through them. In fact, I may have to do a couple of posts, both for reasons of very little writing time and of not wanting to hypnotize my readers. Not very much, anyway. Falling forward into your monitor or keyboard can be a very painful thing indeed.

Knitting Sprite had wanted to come with me to the Wool Market, but she couldn’t get anyone to trade her shift at work. Driving up by myself was actually very pleasant. You saw the scenery I was driving through, and I had Kirsty MacColl’s Tropical Brainstorm on the stereo all the way up. (Another bonus to being the only one in the car–I sang with it all the way up there and back. Loudly.) Estes Park is only about 30 miles from my house, but it’s mostly windy mountain roads, so it takes about 45 minutes if the traffic cooperates.

My first order of business was to deliver some books to Laura at Textiles a Mano. (Who’s a good little CSR?) Then I started my first scouting circuit around the vendor barn. I kept running into people I know, not surprisingly. First I saw Terri Lynn of Larkspur Studio, then I ran into a very good old friend I hadn’t been in touch with for a while. (She’s not a fiber person, but she was there with a friend who is, which makes it even odder and more serendipitous. And I guess I’ll have to call her Not-Fiber-Jean, as my knitting friend Jean–hereafter known as Fiber-Jean–has the same last initial and both of them are redheads.) And then I saw Laura and Connie from work and inapproprately hugged them both, but they said they didn’t mind. This is Connie and me–Laura took the photo. It reminds me that there’s a reason I don’t wear crew-neck t-shirts very often, but it was the first time I’d worn my white Ravelry t-shirt–the one with “where my stitches at?” on the front.

That was during my first scout through the Plain and Fancy booth, and that place always makes me a little high. Such beautiful colors, such soft yarn! Oddly enough, with my love of strong colors, everything I bought before lunch was natural-color wool. The very first thing was a sample pack of Navajo Churro wool, very suitable for a beginning spinner. Churro has a long staple and isn’t too slippery, so it’s really good for learning to spin. It’s also a bit rough, not used for next-to-the-skin items like scarves. It felts well, and is used a lot in weaving. I don’t know yet what I’ll make with it–I’m just hoping not a mess. Aren’t these great colors? Black and two shades of beige …

     I got this from Woolly Designs, run by Tracy and Jean Eichheim from Crawford, Colorado. Jean and Tracy were both there at the booth, and they gave me a lot of really excellent advice on hand-spindle spinning. I also got my hand spindle from them, after I’d gotten some encouragement from Ana Carranza of Entrelac Stitch Markers, who let me play with her hand spindle at Wool Market last year and is therefore the earliest known source of my new addiction. Tracy makes beautiful hand spindles, and I really love buying handcrafted items from the crafters themselves! Here’s the spindle I bought:

         I’ve had just a little bit of time to play with it, and it’s beautifully balanced. I don’t have the question in my mind anymore whether any problems I am having are due to me or the spindle–it’s pretty much all me, all the time at this point. Tracy even bends the hook just slightly, so the yarn is at the absolute center of the whorl–if the hook were straight, the yarn would be very slightly off-center. Is that not an elegant thing? And even his most detailed, fanciest spindles are cut by hand on a scroll saw, not using a laser or a computer program. Even the Dragons! Which are my new objects of lustful fiber desire. Haven’t you always wanted a dragon spindle?

Three ounces of Churro will last me for a while, but I’ll eventually use it up. While Shuttles, Spindles and Skeins has a very nice selection of rovings (and everything else), I decided to get a little more to feed my new spindle. At the Mañanica Farm booth, I bought an ounce of roving from Teeswater/Cotswold crossbreeds.

    That’s going to be fun to spin, I think.

The last thing I bought before lunch was this:

   Pure Colorado Cormo wool from Elsa Sheep and Wool Company. It’s 700 yards of laceweight woolen-spun, which cost all of $17.00. Such a deal! I might actually make a small shawl with this. It’s lightlightlight and just lovely. I suppose the grey is pale enough for dyeing, but I love it the way it is.

And you know what? It’s already Friday, and I’ve been working on this post in bits and pieces since last Sunday. So I’ll tell you about what happened after lunch later, and get this thing up where you can see it. Knitblog! 

Hi, Anna-Liza again. I’m really sorry, y’all. I have so much more to tell you about Wool Market and the cool stuff I got there, but I’m in a serious time crunch. I’m taking a series of four workshops every evening this week, and then Darlin’ K and I are going to be at SolFest this weekend. I’m going to keep working on the fiber post(s) in the bits of time I find. I’ll also try to break it up into smaller bites, so I can at least post some of it between now and … next week? Maybe Saturday morning, before we leave. So much to blog about, so little time to blog!

I finally did get to play with my new drop spindle yesterday, with some of the black Churro wool. I know you’ve seen this a couple of times, but here’s a very quick description:

New drop spindle in the middle; directly above that and then clockwise is some Navajo Churro wool in three colors; on top of the Churro is some Plain and Fancy sportweight singles in “Purple Mountains”; the eye-searing pink/purple/turquoise is merino/mohair; the pale grey wool is laceweight cormo from Elsa Wool Company; the stripey grey/black roving is wool from a Teesedale/Cotswold crossbreed.

I sound like I actually know what I’m doing! I do not.

Hi, Anna-Liza here. Lyda’s getting rid of stuff and I’m acquiring stuff–what a balanced pair we are, are we not? Yin and yang got nothin’ on us. Oh, that picture up there? It’s one I took on my way back home from Estes Park. Pretty nice, eh, Lyda? Might could even make up for the snow.

I find I’m still rather addled by the whole Wool Market experience (plus it’s Father’s Day, and I have a few other things to do than write. Especially considering I had such a grand holiday yesterday.)

So I’m afraid that photo I posted will have to tease you just a bit longer, but I’ll give you Part One of the Estes Park Wool Market report, as told by Pollyanna of the Rockies.

Since I don’t raise fiber animals, the animal part is of purely academic interest to me. I spend far less time in that part of the show than in the vendor’s barn. However, there are a lot of breeders and fiber animal raisers in this area, so those parts are very busy indeed. Add to that the people who bring their kids to see the animals, and curious folk like me! I did overhear one woman say to her friend, “My husband just asked me to not bring home any livestock!”

There are rabbits,

llamas, alpacas,

sheep,

goats, and paco-vicuñas, which are so shy they used their hypnotic powers to defeat my flash. The fellow silhouetted on the left here had a sign on his pen saying he was for sale, for a mere $48,000.

I didn’t spot any bison or yaks or water buffalo, but that’s not to say they might not show up one day. Other attractions include the kids’ tent (where kids can try weaving and spinning), and the wool fleece judging, which is way over my head just yet:

And of course, there are the people and the other scenery.

Note the matching Hawaiian shirts and black jeans …

And of course, this …

Oh, and we mustn’t forget this:

Hey, Anna-Liza here. Yes, I survived, and so did my budget! I came out with $6.00 and change, and that included parking and food. And apparently Lyda survived her yard sale and (I hope) came out with appreciably more than six bucks.

But I feel like I’ve been carrying stuff while walking around all day … wait, that’s exactly what I was doing! So no wonder. So I’ll blog more tomorrow and for now, just leave you with a little something to whet your appetite …

Hi, Anna-Liza here, in case you were wondering. Just a quickie to remind you that Estes Park Wool Market is tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow!!! Well, it’s Sunday too, but that’s Father’s Day and I’m going tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll make it to the Ravelry breakfast gathering at the Big Horn restaurant (I’m not even entirely sure if it’s happening!), but I plan to show up for the blogger meetup at 11 a.m. (outside the vendor barn, on the west side) and for the WWKIP Day gathering at the stadium. I’ll have my Ravelry name button and t-shirt on, my Franklin Habit tote bag, and my camera!

I have also had thoughts of ransacking the vendor barn while so many people are occupied with blogger meetups and KIP events … but I guess I’ll just take my chances.

On my wish list–a good drop spindle, at least two kinds of spinning fiber to play around with (one Corriedale, most likely, and perhaps a little alpaca, just to try), enough “Heather’s Colors” from Plain & Fancy to make a cardigan, and something that I will discover as I browse. We’ll see if I can accomplish all that and stay within budget. If I have to give something up, it’ll probably be the Heather’s Colors, because I really do have enough yarn. *snorksnorksnork*

Hi, Anna-Liza here. Boy, it’s nice to have Lyda back after her temporary semi-silence! (How’s The List going, girlfriend?)

Things have warmed up here since the Drippy, Foggy, Rainy Memorial Day. I’ve even worn sleeveless tops a few times! (You need to remember that I won’t wear short sleeves until it’s at least 75 degrees out, maybe more.) One day last week, Darlin’ K picked me up from work and we went for a nice stroll around downtown Loveland. The sun and the warmth felt really, really good. Getting into the hot car even felt good.

I took a couple of days off. We had originally planned to go to Apogaea, but a number of things made us decide not to go after all. I decided not to change my vacation days, though. Things have been busy at work and busy at home, with more busyness pretty much all through the rest of June, so a couple days to chill just sounded about as wonderful as chocolate covered strawberries with champagne. Maybe more wonderful–I’m damn picky about champagne. Too much of the bottom-of-the-barrel pseuo-champagne at college cast parties, I guess. (Excuse me while I go rinse out my mouth.)

Thursday was a rainy, drippy, chilly day again. I happened to receive a large shopping bag full of free yarn recently, almost all of which was in loose skeins and rather tangled. A lot of it appears to be a rayon/alpaca/wool blend in nice colors, so I decided it was worth the work to wind it all up. So my friend Jean (who used to have Knit One, Purl Too in Longmont) let me have her swift, ball winder, and measuring thingy on a long term loan.

I spent a lot of time with the ball winding on Thursday as a result, and also took some time to go to the library (this is my idea of fun, y’all. I’m so exciting). The kidlets both like the ball winder, so they’ve been helping. I had several a lot of unwound skeins in the stash already, so this is going to be a longish project. I’ve got somewhere between 10 and 15 done. The yardage ranges from 600 (laceweight) to 5 (for something that was frogged that had stripes). I’ve gotten a little further on the mystery gift project, which is at a very boring knitting stage, I’m afraid, but no further at all on any socks. And I’m just itching to cast on something new … perhaps this? Or possibly some kind of lacy shrug I can wear to work … “lace” seems to be the theme of all the new stuff I’m looking at. Not that I don’t have other things to distract me already from my deadline knitting … but I digress.

Friday was a much nicer day — 70s and sunny. Darlin’ K had to finish some projects on Thursday, but he took Friday off and we spent the whole day together. It’s nice to rediscover uninterrupted conversation (and other things) once in a while! We had breakfast and aforementioned conversation at Java Stop, and later we went to see the new Indiana Jones movie. That was a really perfect bit of action fluff, exactly what we were in the mood for. Roger Ebert’s review (follow the previous link) sums the whole thing up really well. I have to say that Shia LaBoeuf’s initial appearance channeling Marlon Brando was really fun, but he’s not terribly convincing as a switchblade-wielding biker. But as the story developed, I’m not sure he was supposed to be convincing. And Cate Blanchett was really hot in her sword-wielding, sleek and intense Russian villainess way.

I have to admit, I’m really not willing to spend money to see “challenging” or “deep” movies anymore. Life itself is challenging enough–if I’m paying for entertainment, it better be FUN! I can get “challenging” and “deep” just looking around, thankyouverymuch. And Darlin’ K and I spent a very fun day, as I’m sure you can imagine. And we even picked up the kidlets from day camp/preschool on time. (Just.)

I just got Marianne Williamson’s new book about midlife (for men and women) out of the library. I think it will be good, but I haven’t done more than read the dust jacket. It’s basically about midlife being a time to refocus and live more in our own integrity, rather than scattering our energies about as we did when we were younger–a time to live more deeply than ever. And when I say “we”, I mean “I”. Anyway, I’m sure it will fit into the Reading in Wonderland Challenge, but I’m not exactly sure where yet. I’ll let you know.

But first, I need to finish Tamora Pierce’s Protector of the Small series. Escapism and fluff, a sovereign remedy for what ails you. That and lace-oriented startitis. And anticipation of the Wool Market (in just a week! Oh boy!!) And four evenings of shaman-led workshops and SolFest later this month (here’s more info) …

… and this lamp.

Hey there, Anna-Liza here. And you knew that, of course, because Sunny Orange County never has a Drippy Rainy Foggy day. Ever.

Oh, just as an update, the Kitteh of Extreme Cuteness finally has a name.      On the short list were Darth Meow, Ninja Kitty, Storm, Fang, and Nuisance. The kids finally agreed on one that Darlin’ K and I can live with, and she will from this day forward be known as “Sparkle”. Moxie and Sparkle. Sounds like a burlesque act. Anyway, back to the main topic …

The weekend itself was pretty nice, but this was the first time in years, maybe even more than a decade, that I didn’t go to the Boulder Creek Festival. It’s fun, the kids like it, and there’s a lot to do and see. Of course, it’s aggravating trying to keep up with small kids in the crowds, but it’s still fun. This year, I totally forgot about it. So did Darlin’ K. Pffffffft! Right out of our little heads.

I did go one year when it rained a lot and Boulder Creek was overflowing its sandbagged banks. That was a bit tedious, squarshing through the mud. The flooding was so bad they couldn’t hold the Rubber Duck Race. Tragic, really.

And then there was the time (hey, I said I’d tell more stories!) that I went with Darlin’ K and I was severely pregnant with Mr. R. Jay, a fire-performing friend, was putting together a dance performance and had asked Darlin’ K if he would be willing to participate. This was the night before the performance, mind, but Jay is known for his improvisational approach to such things, and it sounded fun, and we were planning on going to the Festival the day of the performance anyway, so K said “Sure!”

20 minutes before it was to start, we showed up at the performance tent–K in his basic black firespinning costume and me in my pregnant-lady overall shorts that made me look like a blue pumpkin on sticks. (That year was sunny and hot.) And Jay said, “Oh, I meant for both of you to be in it!” “It” turned out to be a sort of primitive-creation-myth dance with drumming and fire. I wasn’t exactly dressed for the part of generic fertility goddess. I did have extremely long hair (down past my butt), but the rest of what I had on was distinctly modern. So we improvised. I ended up trotting out on the stage in one large scarf (aroung my hips), one medium-sized scarf (covering my boobage), and a little scarf (around my head. But not my face). I was barefoot and carrying before me a small stone egg.

I think the egg was really overkill. My belly was unmistakably that of a very pregnant woman, and there it was, naked, in front of God and everybody. But Jay wanted the egg.

So I danced around holding the egg up in the air and tried not to run into anything on fire. And Darlin’ K, suitably made up as — well, he might have been a fertility god, or maybe a fire god, can’t really remember–anyway, he’s good at what he does and he has very long arms. So he spun fire literally (and I am indeed using that word correctly) around me–he stood behind me (shielding my hair nicely) and spun the fire poi in front of me at one point. Completely missed me, which is a good thing, because I would have been pissed if he’d caught my belly on fire.

The audience loved it. Apparently, I looked like I knew exactly what I was doing and furthermore was doing it on purpose. And fire, even in daytime, tends to draw spectators. It was pretty fun, in the end. If I ever find any pictures, I’ll try to find a way to post them.

Anyway, back to this year’s Memorial Day.

Quite a different proposition. The forecast was highs in the mid-50s and a 70% chance of rain. Once we got to the cabin, at 8,200 feet, we were pretty much inside the clouds. This impressed the kids no end. I don’t think it stopped raining the whole time we were there. The in-laws had gone up the day before, and had seen a bear in the late afternoon. We are thinking (or perhaps hoping) that it’s the same bear everyone else has seen around, and the cabin’s not the center of a large bear population. Anyway, it’s a black bear and it hasn’t given any trouble. Except the time we left some beer and a box of wine (what?) in the pond and the bear drank it all. So far, when it has seen people, it has just gone away. Or staggered, as the case might be.

K’s brother videotaped the bear from the cabin, and there is a part where my in-laws’ little dog ran after the bear, barking its fool head off. Yeah, not bright. But the really remarkable thing was watching my mother-in-law run after the dog, grab it (maybe 30 feet away from the bear), and then turn her back on the bear and walk (quickly) away. The bear was pretty much ignoring the dog, but it did turn and look at MIL with a sort of puzzled look on its face. Okay, maybe I’m imagining the puzzled look. But it did turn and look at her. 

Yeah, I know, people get panicky and she loves her dog. I could see myself doing something similar if it were one of my kids (but not exactly–I’d want to keep my eyes on the bear)–except that I seriously doubt any of my kids would run out and bark at a bear. But still. I think the dog would have run if the bear had come after it, and would have had a decent chance of getting away. Luckily for my mother-in-law (and the bear), the bear just wasn’t interested. Or maybe it was just full.

Still, there were no bears visible on Monday. There weren’t even very many trees visible, the fog was so thick.

We stayed in the cabin and talked and knit by the wood stove. Luckily, I took my secret gift project with me–the knitting at this point is just stockinette and garter, and I don’t even have to count. It was too dim to work on Pomatomus. The kids played. The guys went out and took pictures and measurements for a summer project (repairing some roof leaks). The Kitteh of Extreme Tubbiness had woken me up at 4:30 a.m., so after lunch (burgers grilled in the rain) I went to take a nap. You know that state when you’re awake enough to hear what’s going on around you, but you’re not entirely awake yet? After a while, I came to that state and could hear the in-laws playing Uno with the kids. They were in teams, Mr. B with MIL and Mr. R with FIL, and my brother-in-law and K’s grandmother playing on their own. The game ended with Mr. R and FIL winning, and Mr. B (age 4) said very distinctly, “Oh, damn it!”

I’d never heard him come out with that particular phrase before, although he would be familiar with it both from me and his dad. And we did have problems with a little F-word epidemic at his preschool a few months ago. But this was new, and of course he had to come out with it in front of his grandparents and his great-grandmother! I was pretty thankful that they just laughed and MIL said “I don’t think you’re allowed to say that. Say ‘Oh, shoot!’ instead.” He liked “Oh, shoot” better than “damn it”, apparently, and they proceeded to play another game.

But I decided I wasn’t quite ready to wake up yet. Whatever else one may say about a Drippy, Rainy, Foggy day, it’s excellent sleeping weather.

Hi, Anna-Liza here.

You know, one reason for starting this blog was to get in the habit of writing at least a few times a week, if not every single day. Of course, with a two-headed blog like this, if we both wrote every single day it would get … cluttered. Confusing. Wordy. All of those. But still, I think I’m taking the restraint thing a bit too far when it comes to blogging.

You have probably noticed that Lyda writes far more frequently than I do. Might could be she’s the more disciplined and practiced writer of the two of us. Might could be she has more ideas. Might could be she just has a lot more time on her hands. (For whatever reason, the Texasism “might could be” has been in my head all day, so I’m hoping this will exorcise it. Might could be.)

Anyway, that’s not to say that I don’t have lots of ideas, I just keep on not writing about them. “Oh, no one wants to hear about that. That’s too boring/offensive/in-jokish. Whatever.”

I have no problem telling stories in person. In fact, the problem in that case might be that I enjoy telling stories a little bit too much. Might could be.

So screw it. I’ll start telling more stories. A friend of mine, who is a Burner, a yoga teacher, and a mom, thinks there’s some kind of problem with my throat chakra. Me, I know there’s a problem with my throat chakra, I’ve known it for years, but I’ve never known what to do about it. It’s not that I don’t talk, believe me. Just ask Lyda, or Marin, or Ms. English Hotcar (who has not graced this blog page for many moons, but I’m sure she’ll come up again sometime). Writing, having my words out there where they can be read, reread, and substantially criticized, might free something up. Or maybe shut something down.

One thing I am planning on doing (still not finalized) is taking a series of evening workshops with a shaman named Aumrak. She lives in Guatamala, is nothing at all like what most people picture when they hear the word “shaman”, and is entirely a delightful person. I had a very powerful moment with her in conversation last year, and feel very strongly pulled to do some kind of work with her. She’ll be here in mid-June, and will lead the Solstice ritual at SolFest. (Darlin’ K and I plan to go to SolFest, too.)

It’s weird, I have had a damned interesting life so far, and I’m not entirely sure why I think it won’t continue to be interesting, but I keep saying stuff like “I’m not very interesting myself, but I know a lot of interesting people.” I’ve been through earthquakes, hurricanes, tornados and blizzards, and never had any serious injuries or losses as a result of them. (I even have cousins who live near Mt. Pinatubo and were there when it erupted. I don’t feel any need to have the “erupting volcano in my backyard” experience myself, though.) I have given birth and attended to dying friends, had just about every kind of sex I’ve ever wanted to have, been onstage and backstage and in the audience.

And there are still things I haven’t done that I want to do. And I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I just know that, whatever it turns out to be (or they turn out to be) I want to be as purely me as I can manage, moment by moment. And that throat chakra thing is just possibly the next thing I need to clear out of my way. Might could be. Yup.