Ups and Downs

On the up side, I ran three miles in a good time for me today. All the time I was running, I was thinking about watching my children play the day before, and how hard they worked. I kept saying, "If they can do it, I can do it."

I also remembered that all pain is temporary, and that I wasn't running on my legs, really, or my lungs, or my gut (all places where my body complains); I was running on my brain. And my brain wasn't going to slow down.

Of course, fast for me isn't very. Really. I'm somewhere between 9 and 9 1/2 minutes a mile, which is practically plodding.  But it's a whole minute faster than I ran about sixteen weeks ago, and if I made it a goal, I bet I could go faster yet.

The kids played their hearts out for two games today, and got into the semifinals. That was the end of their run, though, and they ended up fourth out of eight. I haven't done the images yet, so I don't know if any of the amazing plays were recorded. Both of the girls got "layout Ds," which means they flung themselves headlong and smacked a moving Frisbee away from the waiting receiver. It's pretty impressive. Amazing catches were made, mistakes were made, and they were exemplary in attitude and effort.

Now I sit in a marginally packed hotel room, contemplating how to sprint across the country in four days. Miles City, Montana, a mere eleven hours away. Then on to Lewiston, Idaho, in eleven and a half. A day with stops, adding up to about eleven more hours to Eugene, Oregon. Then all the way home in nine hours.

Think we can do it? We'll see!

If you want attention in Italy

Try pulling out a drop spindle on a train. Eric and I got to spend a week in Genoa for a conference he attended, and I managed to find things to interest and amuse me.

A Ravelry friend helped me buy yarn -- the whole "yarn museum" approach in Italy (and, I'm told, much of Europe) can feel intimidating. Thank goodness for generous people who are willing to help you talk to the shopkeepers. This store was much more yarn-filled than the one I had found on my own, and I don't think I would have discovered it without help.


Everywhere I went, I worked away on the knitting I brought with me, even though, in retrospect, three projects might have been a bit of overkill. I have enough problems knitting lace without jet lag complicating things.

On a short day trip, though, I was tired enough that even my ongoing project seemed too much for the train ride home. So I pulled out this yummy baby camel and silk I've been working on, and proceeded to go into a sort of spinning zone.


Eric said some guy did a triple take as he disembarked from the train, but it was when we were en route in our compartment that the fun began. Two delightful ladies sitting across from us chattered away in surprise. "Mi nonna" was all I caught, but the foot gestures were unmistakable. I managed, with the help of the woman next to me, to tell them that I, too, had a wheel (come un bicicleta! I tried), but that when I traveled, this was the way to go.
Then we managed to get onto how to say "crochet" in English, as it's spelled the same but sounds like the game with balls and wickets. When I pulled out my knitting, the woman asked for it and showed me, I believe, the "right" way to knit, English-style, but very fast. I told her I was faster doing it my way, but went on to show her that I could do it her way and did when I knit with two colors.

It was simply charming, but I don't think I would spin when in Italy again unless I'd done some serious work on my language skills. It's just too much of a conversation piece.

I had gotten about 600 yards of a nice steel-gray two ply lace yarn to bring home to my sister, and for me, just enough for a pair of very bright colorwork mittens. I can't wait to get to them. Eventually.


It's good to be home, and it's good to realize that even in another country, faced with what seemed like overwhelming temptation, I found I didn't need that much yarn. Maybe having a spindle and three projects wasn't overkill, in the end.