We just got home, 10 minutes after the New Year swept over the Central time zone. It’s about an hour and a half away from us here in SF and I’m going to head to bed.

I toyed with writing some wise words reflecting on this past year, but I’ve come up with nothing. I had also taken a video of frogging the sock, but it’s just going to remain an experiement for future posts. Thanks for reading thus far… there’s more to come next year.

Darnell’s funeral was on Friday. I sought out a passage from Kahlil Gibran‘s The Prophet. This was shared with me 10 years ago when a young friend named Sachi Pace passed away. I leave you with this, and my well wishes for a safe and creation-filled 2007:

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the sheered not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink form the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Attention sissyboys (or sister boys) and the ladies (and men) who like them! Rent or TiVo or stalk your local listings for Tea and Sympathy (1956).

Yes, there’s a knitting scene (on the beach where young Tommy Lee sews), but there’s also a pretty darn progressive deconstruction of societal expectations of gender and a sympathetic portral of a boy who doesn’t fit in. There are also some killer costumes (swimsuits and gowns), melodramatic acting and a strong pre-feminist heroine. It’s campy, touching and a classic. Could I be any gayer?

As Deborah Kerr’s Laura Reynolds says, “Manliness is not all swagger and mountain climbing. It’s also tenderness.”

No, no, Scout, as a matter of fact, they don’t stretch very much. Sure, I had tried it on earlier, but thought that I could squeeze into them. But anything that’s only a few inches of cuff can be wedged over a heel. (You’ve already called me old today, so don’t call my ankles fat!)

Now that I’ve started on the heel flap, I realize this is a lost cause. I already did 84 stitches. Should I go up in needle size? Maybe cast on another 16 or more stitches? I wonder how that will change up the color striping… Why didn’t I read your post on the pain that is Jaywalker?

At least, I’ve enjoyed myself using the yarn. This is the first time I’ve ripped back, nay, scrapped an entire project.

Another less-than-productive day, but very vacation-like. I didn’t get through my entire list of to-do’s for the day, but I did get some solid knitting in.

I’ve decided to knit up Scout’s hizKNITS-inspired colorway as Jaywalker socks. I do love this wool, not to mention the cool “Silver Streak” dye job she just did. Did you know she’s having a sale over the next few days? I think I need a sushi wallet kit…

This is just two day’s worth of knitting, accompanied by a little Cast On, Lime ‘n Violet and Sticks and String podcasts. Being the type-A personality that I am, I’m systematically working my way through all of their past episodes. Once I’m up do to date, then I’ll consider commenting, interacting with and perhaps contributing to their creations.

Until then, if you’re Googling own names and find this, thanks, Brenda, L’nV, and David. I love your work… so much that I’m not listening to my Audible books that I paid for.

Wel, today’s projected productivity didn’t translate into a pithy post. While I did start the day taking photos of my freshly wound ball of Scout’s yarn, you’ll have to wait until I upload it to see its glory. I did cast on a sock and I’m about 2 inches into it. I’m knitting on 2.25mm needles, somewhere between a 1 and a 0. I like the resulting fabric. It makes the self-striping (what, it was on sale!) Regia socks seem chunky even though they were knit on a 3 and a 2 (for tighter sole, heel and toe).

In other news, I continued on my holiday dish-washing binge (a rare occasion that I’ll be at the sink). I cut music for my free solo (thank you, Pet Shop Boys “It’s a Sin”). My coach and I listened to Bush .mp3’s for samples to include in our team routine. We’ll looking for lies and mis-statements, so if you know of any send them my way! Tonight was a difficult swim practice, 1: because I’m “detrained,” and 2: because I swam extra hard, inspired by videos on YouTube (go search “synchronized” “swimming” “synchronisee” “montreal” “solo”). I’ll be feeling it tomorrow.

Sadly, we heard to day that a close friend of C’s passed away on Christmas Eve. He had hid his pancreatic cancer from everyone, including his mother with whom he lived! When you read this, take time to tell people who are important in your life that you love them. Live hard and safely.

Again, let me apologize for these late night “I-have-no-energy-to-write” posts. It’s time to peel off the the socks I finished yesterday and crawl into bed. It was a lazy day off and between dog walks, rain and naps, I didn’t get much done to compose some interesting prose.

Tomorrow, I’ll post a photo of these latest guys, ball up the wonderful “hizKNITS” Scout’s Swag yarn and perhaps cast on a Jaywalker‘s. And, I’ll weave in the ends of the Knucks for my swim coach that I finished embroidering today.

Santa was very kind to me yesterday, but even kinder was A, our next door neighbor who put on a fabulous dinner. I wish I had taken pictures of that. I couldn’t begin to describe the delicious cheeses, wines, homemade blue cheese salad vinegrette, spinach gratin, parchement baked fish, and chocolate overload (her cake, my pudding and my swim coach’s truffles) that posed as dessert. To make up for all last night’s gourmet action, we had her over for take-out deep-dish pizza (spinach and mushroom from Patxi’s because Little Star was closed.

If you celebrate it, Merry Christmas!

I baked a hunk of bread in my new blue cast iron cocotte for our morning meal of cheeses and butter. Having no sweettooth, I can’t imagine anything better than fat and carbs. Add a mug or two of coffee, some half-and-half and a handsome man (his work, not his portrait) and I’m good to go.

Also in the kitchen, I cooked up some of the incredible Walzwerk chocolate pudding. We’ll be taking that next door to dinner with our neighbor and her two Frenchies.

Ms. Janie Sparkles patiently endured the unwrapping of gifts, as it interfered with her regularly scheduled napping and belly rubs. She wishes everyone a warm and wonderful holiday full of love, good food and lots of walks.

‘Twas five nights before Xmas and I was away from the house;
Playin’ hooky in Las Vegas, wearing a nice blouse.

We had arrived at midnight, Wednesday A.M.
Our goal was simple, see a show with some friends.

The first room they gave us, had only one single bed.
Fine for the engaged couple, but not right for my head.

Back to reception, to ask for one more.
They kindly obliged, giving us 16-304.

I awoke early, put my feet to floor.
While B slept quietly, next to her C snored.

A trip to the lobby, procuring a cup of Starbucks,
Wandering to kill time, realizing casinos are f@*!’ed.

At last they arose, and breakfast we ate,
At a proper sit-down restaurant, with nary a buffet plate.

Then back to the room to shower and repose,
A chance to unpack, knit and change clothes.

C went off to the gym; a headache rendered me ill,
So B and me wandered in search of water and Advil.

I started to feel better, so to celebrate (I suppose)
What could be better, than a bag of pretzel cheddar Combos?

We talked all afternoon, and I practiced my splits.
B shared her journal and my Knucks I did knit.

At last it was time to leave for the show;
Off to Bellagio to meet Onofrio.

He’s the head clown and gave us our tix;
We quickly grabbed a bite, so we could be in our seats by half past six.

The show was magical, better than before;
Even though just a dress rehearsal, I didn’t leave wanting more.

The swimmer Bill May, whom I had met in the past;
Showed off double-jointed shoulders, the most flexible guy in the cast.

After it was over, we remained in our seats;
Bill and Onofrio came to get us, and to backstage we did retreat.

A brief little tour, showing costume rooms and the gyms;
Said hello to other performers. Alas, we couldn’t swim.

When make-up was off, the artists ready at last,
We piled into cars with Bill to get tapas.

A mojito and conversation mixed with sangria and laughter,
A night to remember for many, many years after.

Been too busy to write… I’ll have time tomorrow. Happiest and warmest thoughts to you and yours.

At 10:50 tonight, while watching the aforementioned Vegas friend Betsy’s episode of Knitty Gritty, me and the man felt the room shake once. We are on the 2nd floor of an entirely concrete building. I worried that a car had crashed into us as I watched the cable lights undulate, vibrating after the movement had stopped. Janie barked during it.

Just a little 3.7 holiday surprise centered 2 miles east of Berkeley.

Tomorrow, I’ll write-up my little 28 hours in the city of sin. I still have to upload the pictures (sadly, only three and two are the same, just with and without flash!) and compose my thoughts. Suffice to say, it was all I hoped for, short of swimming in the show myself.