Tomorrow is another Friday off from work, since we’re on four-day workweeks right now, and I’ll be spending it at Governor’s Island out in New York Harbor. Hoping to do a mini-photo safari with the little camera (Nikon Coolpix), but we’ll see how long it takes me to upload those – I’ve got pictures on that camera from the beginning of June and haven’t done a photo dump yet. So, enjoy what I’ve got here, it might be a bit before the next ones go up!

So with all this time speeding by, I’ve been resorting to things that move in more “manageable” chunks than an unwieldy blog entry. Twitter, Plurk, Ravelry forums, those are where I’ve been hanging out. Places where I don’t have to think about the craft of writing, where I can just call someone “hoar” and get instant feeback. But starting in the fall, I’m going to be doing something where the writing requires thought again, and I’d better get back into practice. In the fall, I’m going to take advantage of the fact that I work at Some College by doing so get a tuition waiver, and I’m going to start my second master’s degree.

See, I took a flying trip to DC and Virginia to hang out with my Uncle Norm back in March. It was supposed to be for the purpose of taking pictures of the cherry blossoms, but a few storms killed that (they’re very delicate, those cherry blossoms), so we went to the Capitol, the Newseum, Monticello and Mount Vernon instead. And somewhere in the middle of being surrounded by all that history, and having someone I could discuss all of it with, and quite possibly because we watched John Adams and damn, that really brought history to life, I remembered that once upon a time I had quite enjoyed history. Enough to major in it as an undergrad. And I thought “Huh, I wonder if I can take some classes when I get back” which turned into applying to the MA program in history, because I like to do things right. And I got in. So in the fall, I’ll be taking a course in historiography as well as a course in pre-modern China. I’m looking forward to it, to reading and learning again. I won’t lie, I also have moments of panic because while I’ve read quite a few books about history over the last few years, there was never any pressure to take it to the next level and synthesize my feelings about what I was reading. I was reading them for pleasure, which is great, but is a whole other can of worms from really studying it. So wish me luck, because I’m going to need it.

But in the meantime, I need to practice writing out my thoughts in more than 140 characters, so I’m going to try this blogging thing again. What the hell, the domain’s paid up for a while, might as well get my money’s worth. But since I’ve just written what Word Press tells me is almost 800 words, I need to take a bit of a break. So I’ll show you some of the other things I’ve been up to in pictures.

Samang and Thabiso at the Life is Living Festival. Samang wanted “Baba wear coat!” so he did. On his head. That’s her coat, it really wouldn’t fit him any other way.

Sage, Rick, and Amelia after Sage’s school performance in Iolanthe. Sage was the ingenue. Of course. Note how tall both girls are – 5’10″ and Sage might still be growing. At least Samang is still shorter than me.

We took this picture in Prospect Park to taunt Samang’s Uncle Lucas, who is an insane Baltimore Ravens fan. She’s almost able to say “Steelers” now, although it sounds like “Stee-ers!”. Next task, teaching her to say “Ravens suck!”

Oh, yeah, I went to visit Regan and Grace for Stitches South. Blurriness of this picture caused by wine. Which is also what caused me to rip back the shawl I was working on when I took this picture. Actual knitting content to come…soonish.

In the meantime, this was my haul from the first day at Stitches. I might have fallen down a bit more on the second day.

Oh, wait, I do have knitting content! I knit these socks for Lori. They’re her birthday present, but since she’s in West Virginia doing regional theatre all damned summer, I had to give them to her a month early. She owes me.

I love this picture so much that it’s my desktop wallpaper at work. Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello.

And to wrap it up, my favorite picture from this spring. Don’t photograph George Washington’s dentures. They mean it.

I promised you a post about Boston, but I can’t keep my mind on any one thing long enough to write coherently about it. So you will get snippets of Boston. I like it very much – I could totally picture myself living there. And the fact that I got to hang out with Aimee and Sloth all the time while I was there? Made it even better. We packed a fair amount of stuff into the five days that I was there, and there was so much more that we didn’t get a chance to do. I’ll definitely be going back. I do have some great memories of the trip, though: eating chowder with Aimee at Quincy Market, the Benjamin Franklin walking tour I took, walking past the Green Dragon Tavern (where the Sons of Liberty met and planned revolution), seeing Craig Ferguson recite the Pledge of Allegiance on the 4th of July, the party in Dorchester where I discovered that champagne goes with everything, dinner at Sloth’s house…the list goes on and on. I was going to put pictures into the post, but apparently my happy Flickr plugin isn’t playing nicely with the blog today. So instead, I will give you the entire Boston Photoset. Have fun.

Coming soon, fiber progress. Because there has been a fair amount of it despite the heat. You all can thank Plurk for that – since I hang out (virtually) with knitters all day, I knit and spin and stuff now.

I decorated the small tree that I have left over from my college days last night, and while I was hanging decorations, I could see the wheels turning in Freddie’s head. “Oooh! Toys! Toys to swat at!” And every time I would tell him “No, this is not to play with,” he would give me a very confused look. When I thought about it from his point of view, I can’t blame him. He’s a little street cat who has never had an indoor Christmas, and I have spent the past 6 months encouraging him to swat at toys. He doesn’t understand that the Christmas tree is not a toy, only that it’s shiny and dangly. Poor little street cat. At least that’s what I thought until he took a swat at my icicle lights and knocked out the middle of the strand. Then I thought “stupid fucking cat.”

Pictures, as promised:

The most hideous ornament ever. Yes, that’s a crab painted on it. Don’t ask. I love it for its kitsch value.

LED lights are bright.

For example, that green  light throws this blinding beam of light two feet away to this curtain.

Do not fuck with the Frosty Friends or they will have you jumping through hoops, too.

Just for Rick, an shot looking up from under the tree. We like to look at the tree this way.

It is a good day to be a member of the Red Sox nation, especially in New York City, surrounded by disgruntled Yankees fans. I’m celebrating by wearing my beat-up Sox cap, bought right after they won the 2004 World Series (do not slight me as a bandwagon fan, if you live in NYC you know that they were impossible to find here before then). I think it may be time to buy another one in celebration.

Also, my man Terry Francona? Vindicated. And yes, he is my man. We grew up in the same hometown and I went to school with his nephew.

And just when you think the day can’t get any better? Cute baby pictures! We took Samang on her first carousel ride this weekend at Prospect Park’s Halloween celebration (thus the costume).

If the child had only been looking at the camera, this would have been a Christmas card.

With Grandmama:

Still teething. Horsies apparently teethe on their hooves.

Tonight I get to be a mime on stage. I’ve never been on stage, with good reason. I cannot tell you how happy I will be when this is over…

This guy was the first thing we saw when we entered the grounds. Still no idea what he was doing, but he seemed to wander around the grounds in this manner all day.

I wanted to take this little one home. Unfortunately, I don’t think my small apartment is meant to have a Border Collie, especially one that chews towels. He could always try to herd the cats, though.

Baby girl is teething, thus the face. At least, that’s our explanation for now – I have a feeling we’re going to see this expression a lot when she’s a teenager.

He looks like he’s wearing eyeshadow. I like that in a sheep.

This is Sparky. Yes, he has four horns. He’s a Jacobs sheep, that’s apparently normal.

I love goats. If I could have one in my apartment, I would. It would be me, the goat, two cats, and a border collie. Seriously, how can you not like their little rectangular pupils? People pay good money for contact lenses like that!

Yes, he was about to spit. No, I did not get spit upon.

A gorgeous end to a gorgeous day.

And now, the loot:

Oh my God, so so soft. It feels like a cloud. A 6 oz. cloud of BFL, Cotswold, and Mohair. Bad me, I don’t know where I bought this – the card is at home.

Mohair locks, $5. Can’t beat that.

Cloverleaf Farm sucks me in again – it wasn’t enough that I bought half their booth at MDSW. This is BFL in Sapphires. I likes BFL.

8 oz. of bamboo from Liberty Ridge. So soft, so shiny. I can’t wait to spin this.

Socks That Rock Mediumweight – Azure Malachite. I have wanted this colorway for ages.

STR Mediumweight in Atomic 6. Part of me wants to pair these two up for a Chevron Scarf. The other part of me would just like to pet them all day.

You will notice that I have no pictures of the Ravelry meet-up. That’s because I totally forgot about the camera! I was so engrossed in meeting all these people that the camera sat untouched in the bag. Also, other people are afraid of using the big camera – I guess it is kind of intimidating – so you can’t just hand it off and say “Can you take a picture of us?”. Also, Jordana was holding Samang, and a baby and a big camera are just too much to deal with. Also, I’m a spazz. Any of those reasons are equally credible. There are also no pictures of the swift because my apartment is a mess and it is impossible to photography a swift without getting apartment in the background. Let’s just say that it’s wooden and wonderful and big (yes, I got a large swift – I seem to buy weirdly sized skeins and the vendor said this will handle skeins that are measured in meters, not just yards). I love it.

And tonight I am going to barricade myself in the house and play with some of this. I’m in rehearsal for “Everyone’s An Asshole” or making props for it until Monday, so tonight will be my own.

Photo safari behind the cut. If you’re still on dial-up, I’m sorry.

Yesterday’s destinations: the African Burial Ground National Monument and South Street Seaport, camera in hand. I decided to start in Brooklyn and walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, which would put me about two blocks from the African Burial Ground and not far from the Seaport. My fear of heights always gets the best of me on the walk across the Bridge because holy shit, if you look down you see the water below you through the walkway. I try not to look down, but my fear center always knows that I am high up in the air and I’m sort of paralyzed. Can’t answer the cell phone for fear of dropping it, can’t put the lens cap back on the camera between shots because it’s not connected to the camera and you guessed it, I might drop it, can’t do a lot of shit except keep moving. So the shots from the Bridge were less than stellar. I did get a few I liked, though.

Manhattan Bridge peering through the buildings of DUMBO.

Then it was onto the African Burial Ground. This is a gorgeous monument, and there is definitely a sense of peace and power at the site, even though it’s only two blocks from City Hall. Maybe during the week it’s busy there, but yesterday it was very quiet and still.

On the way to the Seaport, I took a couple of shots of the Tweed Courthouse and met an old friend:

(I can find Ben Franklin anywhere. Ben and I are sympatico.)

The Seaport was bustling yesterday. There was a street festival going on, and there was a display of Indian dancing going on right by the boats, I think to celebrate Deepavali if I read the sign right. This made taking pictures of the ships a little more difficult than I anticipated because they were blocked by all sorts of kiosks and displays. I ended up going into the mall for lunch, playing a little Wii at the Game Stop (I am *so* getting Metroid Prime Corruption!), and knitting out on one of the terraces while watching a kayak race go past.

Masts over Schemerhorn Row. I imagine that this is what it was like in the early days of New York.

Brooklyn

All in all, I had a great day. I didn’t get a lot of great shots, but I did get in a bit of exercise and “me” time. And the shots don’t suck, they’re just not very artistic – they don’t scream “this is a great shot.” Something to continue to try for, I guess. It’s not like I have to be a master all at once.

But hey, guess what? There’s a picture of me over on Mason-Dixon Knitting. (If you’re a knitter, you’re jealous.) Top picture, left hand side. That’s me in the Steelers cap and aqua hoodie, concentrating very hard on my spinning. The Spin-Out was a lovely way to spend Saturday – I walked up the hill to the fountain, and suddenly, there was a crowd of my people! Even better? There were a bunch of people spinning on Lendrums! We’re a cult! (Check the Ravelry groups if you’re on, we really are a cult now.) I spun for about five hours with a few trips to the bathroom and to get food, made a bunch of new friends, and got a few lessons (and a lovely birthday present) from my friend Jenny. (She is a miracle worker. The superfine merino top that I was spinning up as crap last week? Now looks like real live yarn! Even Rick couldn’t believe the difference!) Kids were spinning, guys were spinning, girls were spinning, and we became quite the tourist attraction. Really…the rickshaws were stopping beside us and pointing us out to tourists. Same with the carriages. I made some wonderful new (look at the picture of me, it makes me laugh) friends who I will see again at Rhinebeck later this month, and I just really enjoyed myself.

Afterwards, Rick and I met up with J and Thabs and Samang for dinner at a German restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen. We ended up sitting right next to another table that was celebrating a birthday (Librans are everywhere, I must have run into about twelve people with birthdays on or near mine this year), and so there was a lot of talk back and forth, and a lot of beer.

The next morning, I woke up to…well, continuing proof that Rick is the best boyfriend ever. When I woke up there was a handmade card and a small wrapped package. I unwrapped it and found a memory card that didn’t fit anything I own. I thanked him for it, but said “What do I use this for?” He said “Well, you can always use more memory. Especially if you have this.” and pulled out a Nikon D-40. There will be a steep learning curve, especially as I find myself reaching for the non-existent zoom button, but I love my first SLR very very much.

We then  went over to Prospect Park for a little birthday party with some friends. Jordana, Thabiso, and Samang were there of course, and the girls took some time out of their schedules to come out, and Jessie, Andre, and Zula joined us as well, but the person who gets the biggest amount of points for showing up? The Retropolitan, who not only came from his distant Bat Cave, but came out to help celebrate my birthday when the only person he knew there was me. No pictures were taken of Retro, because he is so mysterious that he cannot be captured on camera, but now you are all jealous of me, knitters or not. It was an amazing birthday weekend, and I am just thrilled to have all these wonderful people in my life.

30? It ain’t so bad. Pictures here to prove it.

I call this one “Look, Ma, I finally learned how to use the macro setting!” Cannon, Gettysburg National Cemetery.

20th Maine monument, with offerings.

Driftwood stump, Little Round Top

Tammany Hall monument. New York likes big monuments, and lots of them. We were starting to wonder if anyone fought at Gettysburg besides New Yorkers because there were so many NY monuments.

Inside Devil’s Den, where I was once tapped on the shoulder by a ghost.

Cyprus tree, Gettysburg National Cemetery.

Confederate High Water Mark, Gettysburg.

The milkweed or whatever in the foreground marks the spot where I believe I died in a past life – a casualty of Pickett’s Charge. Norm and I had a long conversation of this and he told me I was the second person he’d heard who had that reaction to walking around Gettysburg. He then lamented that he’s never had something cool like that happen, or even seen a ghost, and said he’s starting to think he’s not special because of this. I told him he was special alright. In a short bus kind of way. I love my uncle.