May the Road Rise to Meet You

I have one more serious, non-fiber related post for the week, and then I am off to NYC for the weekend to see my dear friend S.'s new musical. Back to sewing and knitting next week, I hope!

A few days ago, I learned that a former coworker of mine committed suicide. This was not someone I was particularly close to, but I always thought well of him. I was on the east coast and he was on the west coast, but we spoke regularly on the phone for a couple of years and saw each other at meetings on either coast from time to time. This was a handsome, driven man, committed to making a difference in the world, full of passion and energy and drive. The thought of him taking his own life is an incomprehensible tragedy to me.

Mostly what I want to say is, I am grateful that his friends and family are being honest about the cause of death, and his long struggle with bipolar disorder (which I never knew about until now). Even in a world where (it seems) every 5 seconds an antidepressant commercial airs on television, there is still much shame surrounding mental health issues. And conversely, I think there can often be a cavalier attitude about mental health as well – “here, take a pill, you’ll feel better”. In serious cases medication can help, but sometimes it stops working and a person has to endure weeks or months of finding another medication – or combination of medications – to regain some sense of normalcy in his life. Sometimes the medication can work too well, in that it can convince someone with chronic mental health issues that they are now cured and no longer need the medication…but a few months later they are back to struggling for their very existence.

I don’t know what the situation was with my coworker. What I do know is that over 200 people joined a Facebook page in his memory, and dozens of people have written about what an impact he had on their lives. I can’t tell you how humbling it is to read about the things he accomplished, and yet he found himself filled with such pain and despair. This makes me wonder if it’s really accurate to refer to suicide as a “choice”…I think that once a person has gone far enough down a darkened path death can seem like a foregone conclusion, rather than an option. But choice or not, I'm sad that despite being surrounded by people who loved him and did everything humanly possible to help, that this was the end result.

Jackopierce was a favorite band of his, and they sing a song based on this old Irish blessing that seems like a completely appropriate send-off...

May the road rise to meet you

May the wind always be at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

May the rains fall soft upon your fields

And until we meet again

May God hold you in the palm of his hand

As Maine Goes...We Leave

As a native Mainer, I was vastly disappointed by the referendum vote repealing Maine’s gay marriage law. As a hopelessly straight woman who has had every relationship dissolve into an ugly, slimy pile of goo, I often don’t understand why anyone wants to get married. But, as a former pre-law student who loved constitutional law, I believe that we have constructed marriage in such a way that it confers certain legal rights and privileges, and that it is unconstitutional to deprive a certain class of people of those legal rights and privileges.

But the civil rights argument apparently didn’t work in Maine. The influx of out-of-state money and propaganda aside, what I really think hurt the state on this issue is, frankly, what’s been hurting the state and will continue to hurt the state for years to come: Maine is the “oldest” state in the nation, with fully 15% of its population over the age of 65 (US Census). Simply from a generational context, the older demographic is less likely to embrace major social change, particularly an issue such as gay marriage because they grew up in a time where homosexuality was not at all embraced. They are also statistically the demographic most likely to vote. The problem is, it’s a catch-22: if they keep making decisions like this, Maine will continue to lose younger people who are more likely to choose to live in places that are tolerant and accepting of alternative lifestyles. This has enormous implications for the state’s economy and workforce -- Maine already is at a competitive disadvantage with its aging and under-educated workforce. Giving younger people additional reasons to leave the state, or to not come back, is the last thing the state needs. What the “No on 1” campaign should have done is run ads that said, “Uphold gay marriage so there are people to work at your nursing home in 10 years" -- because our generation has and will continue to vote with our feet.

Sort of ironically, before I left Maine (for the second time, I should mention…) I served on the Realize!Maine steering committee, which is an initiative committed to retaining and attracting people under 40. I felt like a traitor for leaving, especially for NYC and then Boston…and I still have days when I think about moving back. In fact, the proliferation of “I’m glad I don’t live in Maine anymore” proclamations onFacebook and in newspaper comments today makes me wonder if maybe us not living there anymore is actually part of the problem. We weren’t there to vote no. But we also won't be there to support the state's economy, either -- and that's not something the state of Maine can afford to lose.

Happiness...Deferred

Like many people, I find Monday’s really hard to slog through. Chances are I’ve spent the weekend doing all of the things I love – sewing, knitting, visiting with friends, reading, writing, playing guitar – and it makes me incredibly grumpy to arbitrarily put the brakes on because it’s Monday morning and I have to go to work. [Unless I don’t – Monday is the day that I am most likely to take off, either scheduled (a holiday or a vacation day), or unscheduled (90% of the time when I get sick, it’s over a weekend and lingers into Monday...which irritates me to no end, because who wants to spend their weekends sick!?).]

But most of the time, Monday is a work day that dumps me out of my imagination and into reality. It’s a difficult transition, and I often feel like my brain spends most of Monday rearranging itself for the work ahead, going from a right-brained artistic focus to a left-brained language and linear thinking focus. And it’s REALLY bad on those weekends where I hole up by myself to sew and don’t see or talk to people (ie, really shut my left brain off); I’ll get into work and be barely able to speak a whole sentence.

The one thing that I look forward to at the end of my Monday workday is stopping by the news stand at South Station to buy the new edition of The New Yorker. This is my “I made it through Monday” treat, and I read it on the train ride home. Sometimes I finish the entire thing, other times there are a few pieces left that I save for the Tuesday morning train into work. Like any periodical, I find some issues better than others – for me, a David Sedaris essay trumps a long article about the economy any day. Still, no matter what, it sucks me in almost completely, so much so that I have to be careful that I don’ t miss my train stop. The New Yorker seems to have the right balance of intellectual reporting and slap-dash humor; you’ll find hysterically funny stories (or cartoons) right next to superbly researched and written stories about really serious topics. I also like the reviews of art, theater, movies & books – even when I have no interest in the subject matter, the writing always makes it worth reading.

It occurs to me from time to time that it would be infinitely cheaper for me to subscribe to the magazine, rather than paying the newsstand price (or for that matter, read it online) but then I’d have to find something else to get through Monday. Happiness is not always practical.

As it happens, happiness is also not always on schedule. Tonight, wouldn't you know, the news stand didn't have the new copy yet! And today was a particularly bad Monday, too. So I, um....well, I had Little Lad's popcorn for dinner again. Yum!

Happy Weekend Things

I land here empty-handed in the sewing and knitting departments. My dad was here this weekend, and brought me an almost-as-old-as-I-am John Denver guitar songbook. I think I bought this book for him for Christmas when I was about ten, and grew up listening to him play the songs. John was a staple in our old stereo, and I used to sing the songs on long car rides - "Rhymes and Reasons" was always a favorite of mine (they played this song a lot after 9-11 - ""though the city starts to crumble and the towers fall around us"). Even now when I struggle with insomnia, I still often find myself lying in bed singing these songs to myself (reason #14 I am 38 and still single...).

I was overjoyed that it is an "easy" edition of his songs, meaning that I actually know most of the chords used. I mean -- seriously giddy. I think my dad thought I might have gone 'round the bend a bit, as I plucked out "Take Me Home, Country Roads". Tonight I've been trying to play "Follow Me", and it's making me ridiculously happy. And there's the sweet spot I've been missing these past 4 months -- I really have no interest in being a great guitar player; if I can just play a few John Denver songs I will be ecstatic. Anything else is gravy. (Although, I am also eyeing a couple of Patty Griffin songs...).

Another happy thing: The Swell Season's new album "Strict Joy". The Swell Season is the couple (or, former couple) from the movie "Once", plus what appears to be most of Glen Hansard's old band The Frames. These songs are so beautiful and haunting and fabulous and I can't stop listening to them (except, of course, to play John Denver). Late this afternoon I had to run some errands, and driving home there was a fabulous moonrise, with these pink clouds that tinted the leaves on the trees a kind of sepia-tone. As it accompanied the Swell Season songs, it was strangely, eerily beautiful.

One more happy thing: Little Lad's herbal popcorn was at Whole Foods!!! This stuff is so freaking good, I personally don't care WHAT is in it. I used to get it at this tiny little health food store in Augusta (Maine) when I lived there a few years ago, and up until today had never been able to find it anywhere else. I confess that it was dinner tonight :-)

Finally, we fixed the toilet seat that, I am fairly certain, the cat managed to break. A few nights ago I heard a crash in the bathroom and the cat came flying out of there. He had knocked a decorative ceramic vase off the back of the toilet, which I'm guessing must have bounced and hit one of the plastic screw-thingies (technical term!) that keeps the toilet seat anchored. All I really know is that shortly after the crash I discovered a strange piece of plastic on the floor and the seat was suddenly wobbly...I can't help but think all events are related to the cat's speedy exit.

UPCOMING: I have a goal this week to post at least one happy thing each day here, as I endeavor to resuscitate my "Happiness Project". Stay tuned!

Purple Redux

The purple quilt was shipped (via my mother's luggage) out to San Francisco for my niece J.'s 9th birthday. She called to tell me she really liked it, and that it was going with her to Disneyland (after living in CA for a year, anything under 80 degrees seems cold, apparently). I was really glad to hear she liked it, particularly since she is not a fan of pink, and there was definitely some pink in there. And, y'know, no aunt worth her stripes wants to give a kid a lousy birthday gift! (There were a few other things, just in case...)

Thirty seconds later, I got another phone call from J.'s 7-year old sister:

"Aunt Lori, y'know that quilt thing you made J.? Can you please make me one just like it?"

Is it terrible that I said, "Of course I can, but are you sure you don't want a pink one?"!?

Alas, she insisted on purple, and so purple it is. The trouble is, I wiped out my purple fabric stash on the first quilt, so I had to make a quick run to the quilt store Saturday afternoon after my guitar lesson. Luckily, they still had the same border fabric I used on the first one, so while there's no way I can exactly reproduce the patchwork, at least the borders will be the same.

In the meantime...while ransacking the fabric stash hoping to find more purple, I found some leftover Bali Pop strips. I found this free pattern online, and managed to whip up a couple of blocks:

I so love Bali strips...and I really like this pattern. I do, however, always come up short when using them -- I always wind up with smaller blocks than I'm supposed to, despite the fact that I triple-check all my measurements. The only thing I can guess at is that the 1/4" presser foot that I have is slightly more generous than the "scant" 1/4" seams the patterns call for. These blocks are 8", rather than 8 1/2"...it's ultimately fine, as long as they square up (a couple of the above are not completely sewn yet, so that's why they may look a little off-kilter). At any rate, I'm sewing these for a bit so I can get my gumption up to spend another chunk of time in purple land.

MISCELLANEOUS:

1) Have you seen the BBC show Gavin & Stacey? Honestly, I can't remember life before it and now cannot stop saying "Hiyaaaaa" in a terrible imitation of a Welsh accent. The show is a cheeky adult comedy for grown-ups...and you will never look at your toilet brush in quite the same way. It can be Netflixed, bought via iTunes, or rumor has it it occasionally airs on BBC America. If you have any sense of humor at all, you will fall off your chair laughing!!!

2) I finally caved and got a Blackberry. Shockingly, there are apparently no knitting or quilting apps available. I searched "crafts" and all that turned up was "Canadian Living". I find this odd.

3) My just-out-of-college guitar teacher doesn't know who John Denver was. I'm still speechless.

I turn my back for ONE second and...

Doh!

1) I wish I had written this book. I mean, really - with my social conscience and my quilting history, it's a tragedy someone else had this excellent idea. But good for her, and I highly recommend it.

2) Have you ever had a project...well, just not come out right? I had all this purple fabric, and I sewed it together, thinking it might make a nice birthday surprise for a certain niece of mine. It's not what I had imagined, although to be fair it still needs an outside border:

For some reason, I have the voice of Tim Gunn in my head saying, "What a hot mess".

The pattern is "Tossed Nine Patch" by Eleanor Burns. I did not construct it using her method, though, because I had a bunch of 2.5" Bali Pop strips that I wanted to use (that were leftover from another project). This was a "use up the fabric stash" project, and so in that respect I'm happy about it. I will also say that I sewed a lot of this while listening to The Weepies, in particular the song "Twilight", and the colors here sort of look like twilight, don' t they?

We will not discuss the clumps of cat hair on certain spots of the quilt where the cat made himself comfortable. Wilbert the Cat came to be because my niece asked Santa to bring her a "real live purple kitty" for Christmas a few years ago, and he used to sleep on her bed. I think in some cat-knowing way he understood who this quilt was for, and felt he needed to contribute. All I'm saying is, thank all that is high and holy for dryers that suck up lint, fuzz, and kitty hair.

Edited to add -- it looks much better in daylight!!