when you're trying to accomplish something else!
It's been a busy few days, accented by something that happens to me occasionally and makes me crazy: I find myself confronted with two or more things that I *really* want to do. In this case there were three...no, FIVE things. First, this weekend contained the following: Cornish Festival in Mineral Point; Civil War Weekend at Wade House; birthday party for son AND grandson; the annual afternoon soiree with an erudite and diverse group of friends and a monthly Knit-In gathering with local knitterly types (and fellow bloggers) which I haven't been able to make yet.
The thing is, of course - you can only do one thing at a time. Well, unless you're talking about reading, knitting, watching television and talking on the phone. (Even then, it occurs to me, you can wind up missing the Big Moment, dropping a few stitches, losing track of the story and agreeing to do something you really don't WANT to do.....)
Well, we'd made our decision. On Saturday we went to the Civil War encampment rather than the Cornish Festival. As a result we ate corndogs and giant pretzels instead of pasties; Mr Dearling watched the very dramatic battle and I enjoyed a quiet time knitting and watching a lady with a mighty fine horse. Lots of people came over to "pet the pony" who took it all with great good humor, gently lipping piles of grass out of children's flattened palms. (When you're 4'11", and there's a big crowd around the battlefield, you might as well sit and knit - I'm too short to see and too old to sit on Mr Dearling's shoulders.) The encampment is only once a year; the knitting is once a month, and I'm determined to join my neighbor-knitters eventually.
On Sunday we decided we'd go to the soiree first for a little while and then go to the birthday picnic. I made a grand bowl of crab-artichoke dip for the occassion...but then we had a Phone Call. It was one of those phone calls that you'd like to rewind and change. A family problem, upsetting but not terminal; difficult but nothing that we won't get through, given some time.
The upshot was that we we begged off the soiree (I didn't feel very erudite) but did go to the birthday festivities, and had a very nice time. We brought pizza for the masses, which was definitely enjoyed, and I never tire of watching the kids running around and playing in the park. And the grandson had a good time too! No, no, I DO mean the grandson. My son, whose birthday was Saturday, turned 40. FOR-TEE. How is it that my children are creeping up in age and I am not? What kind of rip in the fabric of time allows for one's children to be the same age as their mother? We had a long talk about whether or not he's now "middle-aged"; I don't think so, I think he might live to be much older than 80. (I first wrote "...he might LOVE to be...") I'm proud of my children, they're honest and hard-working people and I'd like them a lot even if they were not my own.
I did take pictures, and will post them later on; just now I'm tearing out the door to go transcribe some interviews about LaCrosse - it's for a program on Public Television and I'm really enjoying it. Have I mentioned that I really LOVE transcribing off a dictaphone? I even have two of my own, one with full-sized tapes and one for those mini-cassettes. So...more a little later.