Sweater Love

I'm up to my eyeballs in them---all lined up in a row on my front porch railing drying in this sudden and windy heat wave. Lucky for me, because you can imagine the smell of damp wool/silk/mohair/angora lying helplessly flat on every horizontal surface indoors. Rather not.

It's so much better this way, and as yesterday was just as beautiful as today is going to be, I'm glad I did the first batch then. Lucky lucky me, I get to play with sweaters I didn't have to spend months knitting in the first place, cutting, applique, felting, ribbon & wool embellishing, funky patches & unmatched buttons, lace inserts...I'm dizzy with excitement.

But today is more business than pleasure, I have to get some business cards together, take some pictures and finish the pitch portfolio already. I worked on the business plan last night after Sunset Porch Time, and I want to walk down to the Hawthorne & 48th Ave antique mall before it gets to 90 degrees today. If only I had a better quality printer...

You just never know where the inspiration will come from, or what it will actually look like when it gets here. I had been thinking it would look a certain way, BE a certain thing, and that isn't what happened at all. And as electrifying as it has been to sing out with it to people I know, and to see them happy that I'm excited and jazzed, I have to also deal with the quizzical looks, uncertain smiles. pointed questions, and, frankly, their obvious doubts about the sense of what I'm talking about. This has been tough for me. Most of these folks have only known the workaholic for Borders me-person. This Earth Martha Hippie is catching them off guard.

Am I off my nut?

Especially when I realized that doing this vintage thrift thing is a lot like what Betty did when we were kids, dragging my brother and me to garage sale and estate sale and roadside liberation of old furniture, making us work in her booth at the flea markets, haul shit around and sit on it to keep it from falling over, fighting with each other while we waited for hours in the parked car while she wheeled & dealed some old lady out of precious heirlooms. This is a curious turn of events at this point in my life. It feels like I'm doing it my way, though. Maybe I'm just kidding myself.

Yesterday I popped into Powells' to pick up a freebie paper, and saw a sign posted for a bookseller for the Hawthorne location. No less than five employees were hanging out chatting, holding up the counter or sitting with their feet propped on the desk tiddling on the computer, and I had a brief flash of "not a bad way to make $11 an hour" as I flitted back out the door. There is always that. Books, retail, but without the corporate culture thing. I don't wanna go there. (keep moving, keep moving, sweater love, buttons, retro booth, business cards, paintings, jewelry, writing, go go go go go !)

Just about half done with Betty's Mom's-Day & B-Day combo sweater. Half of the front panel and the two short sleeves left to do. The yarn makes such a beautiful variegated colored pattern, with slubs of satiny strand colors strewn in like jeweled grains of rice. I love it, but will be so glad when it is done. I've got so much else to get in motion, this necessary but beautiful task of finishing this gift feels like goofing off. It certainly looks that way to everyone who passes by, seeing me on the porch late in the afternoon yet again, knitting (of all things) and maybe a beer next to me in the shade, "when is she going to get a job?" is all over their faces. Or so I think they're thinking. The Boss Lady has not completely left the building. Right now, she is reminding me that the sweaters are sitting there needing to be brought out of the water and taken to the porch to start drying. Gotta go. Lo-o-ove those sweaters, though.