hey, it's dark in here

Anyone who might have observed the flaky, fly-by-night postings here for the last couple of weeks is welcome to not mention it unless they are very forgiving. kay?
Oh, and if you were worried that I was rocking back and forth in front of the camera, instruction booklet in hand, and a bug-eyed expression of fear and loathing on my stricken face - don't even waste the time....I mean, I gave up on that, oh, 24 hrs. or so ago. Actually, I've been observing the new winter here in Maine. You know, the one where it is frighteningly warm and rainy but grayer than gray almost every day and you wake up in cold sweats fearing that you didn't ACTUALLY ever move away from Seattle 11 yrs. ago? I have many complaints about said newbie winter. Oh, the global warming, the sad waste, the fury of political games, the greed machine - but, more primally, the lack of sun. Not for the vitamin D - for the freakin' lights. When you depend on solar power for the creature comforts of the day (a light to read or knit by, a radio or cd playing, a stint reading blogs) you are keenly aware in a 'served 8 yrs. in Catholic Academy' way that the sky is not yellow. I will stop whining, here, by displaying my pain and suffering in the most humiliating way and telling you that I was actually CAUGHT humming an old 'barney' song (thank thing 1 for that but I really needed her to take the nap) about Mr. Sun. I am still shivering.

But, there has been knitting - a finished object, even - but it is blocking and cannot be photographed until in a more flattering pose. Without giving away too much, I am smug with the yarn used to do the sleeve cuffs - my own handspun 100% angora yarn and dyed with wild abandon way back when I didn't cringe and start drooling if someone mentioned knitting and Christmas in the same sentence, particularly with the latter before the former. Brrr. Anyway, it is SO SOFT. I mean, really soft and yummy feeling...like you start to rub it just a little to feel the texture and before you know it you are moaning and trying to carry it off to a corner somewhere. uh, maybe that's just me. mKay, well, anyway - it does feel real good. There's been much spinning, working up my own pattern for a gothic sort of sweater/tunic thingine out of some glittery rose alpaca and black cotswold with merino but, since I've changed the design sketch three times, I'll say no more till I know what I think I may be doing.

I'm not usually one for resolutions but, then, it occurs to me that I maybe should be. So many of the ideas in my head don't make it from the point of inspiration (usually the garden, barn, car - places the family knows work or uncool music might occur so, naturally, they avoid) to some form of me recording them. Seems that just as gossip opens doors, lurid thoughts seem to be the only ones persistent enough to be recorded these days.

I solemly resolve to:
-learn how to say 'no'
-learn how to say 'no' without apologizing for ten years after the fact
-keep up with friends but make some new ones
-stop assuming that people don't want to hear about my cooky lifestyle
-knit more for myself and family
-stop expecting that I'll ever have three days in a row wherein I can go down to the barn inadequately dressed for the weather assuming that I'll just be throwing food to the critters and heading inside all the while knowing that these little furry creeps are out to shock and horrify me either by force or by accident.
-stop promising anyhing, even if in a resolution, since I know I am a flake by design