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Moulting

We are still in the hotel. Enough said.

Much as I am tired of living in a hotel, and much as I am very much ready to be in my new house, living in 550 square feet of space for a little over month has not been as much of a trial as I had anticipated, and this is making me rethink all of my previous assumptions about both necessary space and necessary possessions. Compared to our present location, the new house seems enormous, and the thought of all the things coming from New York seems overwhelming. If I was worried about downsizing, I am less worried about it now.

Knoxville itself has been a bit of a surprise as well. Granted it will take me a while to get settled, get involved, and really make myself at home, but I cannot say that I miss New York state or the Hudson Valley. In fact I am more relaxed here. Things are quite different, and I too am probably somewhat different, or at least different parts of my personality are getting to come out to play. There are no expectations here and I have nothing to prove. It is quite liberating.

As you can see from the photo above, the moulting process has already begun. And the truth is that I am completely enamored of this new haircut. In fact, I can even honestly say that I am, at the moment, completely enamored of my face, vain as that may sound. Good photos are good, but even terribly awful photos where I am frowning or scowling show a dimension of myself that I had allowed to slip behind a curtain. I am still not able to reconcile the self I see and the self I feel myself to be, and a part of me still feels that every photo should be burned, but despite all that I spent a terribly embarrassing amount of time yesterday playing with the camera taking photos of myself. I am intrigued by how such a simple change can completely alter perception. I felt like a teenage girl practicing poses in front of the mirror, searching for this new person to be revealed.

I am actually not sure about my ability to replicate the styling, and am a little curious about how this will turn out when I try to do it at home. My new stylist, Jared, used a flat iron before styling with a round brush and the blow dryer. I'm used to the round brush, or multiple round brushes, but no one has ever used a flat iron on my hair before. I am intrigued enough that I bought one today, although I am not at all convinced that the blow dryer in the hotel is up to the styling task, weak as it is and given its penchant for shutting down after about 5 minutes and not restarting for another hour. But I hope even the un-styled version will be nice, and I will learn.

As to other details, the teal top I am wearing is a new purchase, a wedge-shaped, lightweight wool crepe by Eileen Fisher. The spring EF line has some lovely teals and perfect soft summer greens. I highly recommend checking it out if you are attracted to the softer summer colors. I'd share some pictures but haven't found anything online yet, and aside from the bathroom mirror, good photographic settings seem non-existent, unless I wish to go lay things out in the hotel parking lot. Not.

The bracelets are iron and the necklace is Brazilian agate. They were both gifts from G and may be worthy of another post one of these days, as they are rapidly becoming a part of my everyday uniform.

There is one more picture I want to share, but don't worry, I'm not going to inundate you with a gallery of ridiculous expressions. The first picture is the one G likes best, but this one, with its multiple layers and partial views is my favorite. I like the reflection of my eyes over my face mocking me, and the smile in the mirror. The whole is a sum of the parts but each part in and itself is another whole, granting a glimpse into the dimensions hiding behind the whole.

January 19, 2012
Notes at the end of the week

Here is a blurry cell-phone shot of my knitting progress. The second sleeve for this sweater will be finished tonight. It should have been finished before now, but I have fallen asleep on the sofa two nights running. I'm not yet that near done; Once I sew the shoulder seams, I have a large, roughly 8-inch shawl collar to pick up and knit.

Temporary residence is getting wearing. Luckily it looks like we may be in the house and living amongst the boxes within 10 to 11 days. We close on the new house next Friday, and our old furniture is scheduled to arrive on Saturday. Even if there are delays I hope it will be here no later than Monday, and we are in, even if still unsettled.

These photos were taken at the beginning of the week. Since then, more has been accomplished. The floors have been put in. That annoying little granite backsplash/ridge above the countertops has been removed and the tile backsplash has been installed, although I haven't seen it yet.

G was surprised that I would chose such traditional cabinets. Apparently my style is quite modern. I reminded him of the agreed-upon parameters (stay within the builder's standard options). I can always reassess in a few years.

For now I am ready to settle in.

January 6, 2012
Azar Nafisi’s Things I’ve Been Silent About

I picked up Azar Nafisi's book, Things I've Been Silent About on a whim when I was at the bookstore contemplating looking for another copy of her previous book Reading Lolita in Tehran, which I had read, loved, and then lost when I lent it to a friend. In the end I bought this book and promptly let it sit on the shelf for a few years. I am glad that I finally read it.

I picked it up in November but did not get very far before I had to set it aside. The book seemed to intense and difficult for me at that time, filled as it was with strife and very personal memories. It required more energy than I had available.

I started reading it again last week, finishing it on New Years Day. This time around I was able to engage with the book more fully, though I still found it to be a difficult read in that I would need to walk away and clear my head after certain sections before resuming. It is a story that is profoundly private and yet vividly public, about a turbulent life which was also wrapped up in a turbulent place and time, it is a story about Nafisi's family and how their story is also her story and how the woman she became is shaped not only by the private drama of her family and her childhood struggle but also by the public drama of the culture, both social and political which surrounds them.

Nafisi tells the reader in the very beginning that this will be a very personal journey:

I do not mean this book to be a political or social commentary, or a useful life story. I want to tell the story of a family that unfolds against the backdrop of a turbulent era in Iran's political and cultural history.

and later:

Perhaps the most common of all narratives is one about absent parents and the urgent need to fill in the void created by their deaths. The process does not lead to closure — at least not for me — but to understanding. It is an understanding that does not necessarily bring with it peace but perhaps a sense that this narrative might be the only way through which we can acknowledge our parents and in some form bring them back to life, now that we are free, at last, to shape the boundaries of our own story.

As usual in my pseudo reviews of books, I am not interested in going into the details of the story as it unfolds. It is enough to know that Nafisi was a fighter from childhood and that her parents were difficult. The children were caught between an angry controlling mother and a charming dreamer of a father, both parents completely entangled in their own personal fictions. It is no wonder that Nafisi became a student of literature, nor that she would be drawn to Nabokov, just as it is also no surprise that she would be a rebel. These skills help her to analyze her own story and the story of her parents as if she is analyzing a literary text and her storytelling skills help her balance the touchingly personal with the analytic.

She is not completely successful in maintaining this difficult balancing act, and there are times when the book becomes shrill and querelous. Although Nafisi has told us upfront that this is a personal journey, she also tells us she is interested in those fragile intersections — the places where moments in an individual's private life and personality resonate with and reflect a larger, more universal story. To some extent she is successful in accessing those intersections, but perhaps not completely so.

At the end of the book I was left with the nagging sense of something unfinished, of a story that was yet to begin, although I do think this was intentional, that Nafisi had indeed found an understanding that had been elusive before, and understanding that allowed her to move forward.

I will leave you with her closing words:

It was only after their deaths that I came to realize that they each in their own way had given me a portable home that safeguards memory and is a constant resistance against the tyranny of man and time.

January 3, 2012
A New Year’s Miscellany

New Years day was spent quietly ensconced in our small temporary abode, reading and knitting.

A little time was spent in my tiny, oven-less, two burner kitchen preparing a News Year's Dinner with a nod to Southern tradition:

Local Tennessee sausages with black eyed peas, and collard greens sauteed with garlic, ginger and tomato. Not beautiful perhaps, but warm and comforting food nonetheless.

A new USB cable arrived for my camera so I attempted a WIW photo (what I wore) on New Years Eve. The camera works slightly better than my cell phone in this tiny space, but is not ideal. We spent a casual New Year's Eve with family and I wore this outfit during the day as well when I was out ordering a few pieces of furniture we had scouted out during the previous weeks. Quite frankly I was quite happy to end the year without resorting to bulky coats and winter boots.

On New Year's morning there was more banging and yelling than usual from our neighbors and much revving of engines in the parking lot. None of us have grown accustomed to having the great world in such close proximity. Moisés returned to a favorite hiding spot. I seriously wished I could join him.

I'm off to see what everyone is up to on this Visible Monday. Have a great week!

January 2, 2012
Books Read 2011

Overall, 2011 was terrible year for me reading-wise. There were long periods where I read nothing beyond skimming the newspapers and blogs. There was far more frivolous than serious reading.There were other periods were I was up to only reading a page or two a night. There is also a fairly long list (for me anyway) of books I feel I must read again, books I feel that I fell got short shrift because I was too distracted to focus on them and give them the attention they deserved.

Still, I feel the need to make some kind of accounting. If I reviewed a book on the blog there is a link, although you will notice that my ability to take time for reviews stopped for the most part as I got busy preparing to sell our old house and move.

Books I feel I need to read again are marked in red. In the case of Hustvedt and Wallace, I just felt that I wasn't paying enough attention. I loved both of the Atwood novels, and they still hover on the fringes of my thoughts, making me think they deserve further consideration.

1. Freedman, David H. Wrong: Why Experts Keep Failing Us and How to Know When Not to Trust Them.

2. Lebenthal, Alexandra. The Recessionistas.

3. Niffenegger, Audrey. The Time Traveler's Wife.

4. McMurtry, Larry. Books.

5. Ripley, Amanda. The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes — And Why.

6. Akroyd, Peter. The Trial of Elizabeth Cree.

7. Kingsolver, Barbara. The Bean Trees.

8. Kozol, Maggie. The Color of Atmosphere.

9. Patterson, James. The Postcard Killers.

10. Woods, Stuart. Lucid Intervals.

11. Chabon, Michael. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

12. Cahill, Thomas. How the Irish Saved Civilization.

13. Dineson, Isaak. Out of Africa.

14. Hirigoyen, Gerard. Pintxos.

15. Hoeg, Peter. The Woman and the Ape.

16. Lewis, Michael. The Big Short.

17. Martin, Charles. Chasing Fireflies.

18. Doland, Erin. Unclutterer: Unclutter Your Life In One Week

19. Chabris, Christopher. The Invisible Gorilla.

20. Chabon, Michael. Summerland.

21. Child, Lee. Worth Dying For.

22. Child, Lee. 61 Hours.

23. Winter, Kathleen. Annabel.

24. McLain, Paula. The Paris Wife.

25. Franzen, Jonathan. The Discomfort Zone.

26. Woods, Stuart. Fresh Disasters.

27. Wallace, David Foster. The Pale King.

28. Hamill, Pete. Tabloid City.

29. Woods, Stuart. Hot Mahogany.

30. Taubes, Gary. Why We Get Fat

31. Watts, Duncan. Everything is Obvious: Once You Know the Answer.

32. Brooks, Geraldine. Caleb's Crossing.

33. Howe, Ben Ryder. My Korean Deli.

34. Lovell, Mary S. The Churchills: In Love and War.

35. Child, Julia. My Life in France.

36. Reich, Christopher. Rules of Betrayal.

37. Gordon, Mary. The Love of My Youth.

38. Staniszewski, Mary Ann. Believing is Seeing: Creating the Culture of Art.

39. Collins, Suzanne. The Hunger Games.

40. Collins, Suzanne. Catching Fire.

41. Collins, Suzanne. Mockingjay.

42. Jansson, Tove. Fair Play.

43. Neville, Stuart. Collusion.

44. Atwood, Margaret. The Year of the Flood.

45. Stockett, Kathryn. The Help.

46. Hustvedt, Siri. The Summer Without Men.

47. Atwood, Margaret. Oryx and Crake.

48. McPhee, Stephanie Pearl. Knitting Rules!

49. McPhee, Stephanie Pearl. All Wound Up: The Yarn Harlot Writes for a Spin.

50. McPhee, Stephanie Pearl. Free Range Knitter.

51. Child, Lee. The Affair.

52. Peacock, Nancy. A Broom of One's Own.

There was very little reading after September aside from the Stephanie Pearl McPhee books which were very light and could be read a few pages at a time. The last two books were read my first few days in Knoxville.

Current Reading:

Azar Nafisi — Things I've Been Silent About

Andrea Eames — The Cry of the Go Away Bird.

December 31, 2011
Transitional Space

This transitional part of my life has not quite been what I expected. Not that I truly know what I expected anyway, as I wavered between thinking I would be twiddling my thumbs in a hotel room with nothing to do and worrying that there would not be enough time. Neither is quite true. We have been busy but not too busy, and this transitional period is proving to be a good introduction to our new home before we get down to the serious work of settling in.

(photo courtesy of www.knoxville.com)

We went to a fabulous Christmas party at this house where we met some very interesting people, and perhaps a few future friends, but all the faces are mostly blurred together in my mind at this point. It was very generous of our hostess to invite us to her home at the last minute, and it was a wonderful welcome to our new city.

I have begun reading again, and knitting, although it looks likely that I shipped far too many books and knitting projects to myself in that pre-arrival fear of having nothing to do.

We have also been driving around a bit, exploring neighborhoods, looking into stores, eating out occasionally. We even took a drive to Nashville once, a one day driving extravaganza, which we found very refreshing way to clear our heads when we were overwhelmed with the abundance of overly-traditional over-stuffed furniture we keep finding in showrooms. It was a beautiful drive and although I love driving, I have occasionally wished that I was once again in the passenger seat if only so that I could snap photos en route.

This temporary abode and transitional life is quite satisfying and all that I feel is missing is time to myself, time for considered thought, time to allow the mind to roam freely, time for blogging. I do have a computer and internet access, and although it can difficult to share computer time from other distractions, I do manage the occasional bit of cyber-wandering.

Overall, this interlude is proving both beneficial and thought-provoking in ways I had not anticipated, the results of which are sure to be revealed in time.

December 31, 2011
Settling In

Already I have been in Knoxville a week. It seems like it has been a busy week but in truth the busy-ness has been tempered with ample amounts of sleep. I didn't realize how thoroughly I had been running on adrenaline and worry, and how much sleep I would need once I arrived.

We have been out to the new house a few times now. It is progressing nicely and I am very happy with how it is shaping up. I am eager to move in, although I am also happy for this bit of respite, this time to rest and regroup and explore our new town just a little bit.

I had been told that Knoxville is a very casual town, and in some senses it is, and as a small city it would certainly be considered very casual compared to a city such as New York, but overall, I would say it is not more casual than my previous suburban/country abode.

Already I am enjoying dressing again in the morning. Admittedly however this may be more dependent on the items of clothing I brought with me and the fact that the shape of my days have changed than on any aspect of my current location.

I do wish I had brought another dress. I wondered, when I was in Hyde Park, if I would continue to wear dresses more after I moved, but I only brought two in my suitcase to the temporary abode. The dress in is photo, taken at our house in Hyde Park, is one of the two that came with me. But I wish I had more options.

While I am on the subject of style, I have noted a much wider variety in skirt-lengths here than I ever did in the Hudson Valley. This trend seems to encompass all age and size groups, with a wide range of skirt lenghts represented, from above the knee to the floor. I have seen older women nicely turned out in low calf and even ankle grazing skirts as well as fashionably trendy young women in maxi dresses and coats with sky-high heels. Although I have no idea about what was seen in NYC, in the section of the Hudson Valley where I lived, once you ventured past the summer season when you would see chic young things up for the weekend wearing floaty summer dresses, mainstream skirt lengths generally hovered around the knee with the longer skirts wearers generally falling into the fringe groups of "earth mother", "artsy", or "Sicilian widow". Of course there are always exceptions to every rule. I often wore whatever I wanted despite what might be considered mainstream, and I am sure there will be some things I consider normal that may be viewed as odd in my new locale. I'm sure I don't yet have my finger on the pulse of Knoxville style, but I certainly don't mind that my long black coat might fit in a bit better here.

Minor points:

I wish I had brought a camera tripod to the hotel instead of packing them all for the house. Not that it matters at the moment as I have misplaced the USB cable for my camera although I was certain I had packed it. If there is to be blogging and photos, I may have to rely on my iPhone.

I have not knitted a single stitch since I left Hyde Park despite having mailed myself 4 boxes of projects to "tide me over". That may change soon now that I am feeling a bit more settled.

I am very happy with our temporary abode. Of the two choices that would accommodate our needs and our cats, this was the best fit for many reasons: It is spacious, the bed is comfortable, it is convenient to our new house and family, and the staff are universally helpful and kind. However, if you had told me two months ago that I would ever find myself living between Cracker Barrel and Hooters, I would have said "Not on your life". And yet it has come to pass. All one can do is laugh.

December 22, 2011
A couple of simple projects

It all feels like confusion and chaos here, although I do realize that objectively speaking it is not quite that bad. G might say otherwise, but I expected his confusion to deepen as we got closer to an actual moving date. I pray now that my patience will hold, although I think that with an occasional chocolate fix I shall remain steady.

I have finally managed to photograph a finished project.

This is the Milanese Loop by Tante Ehm, a free pattern download from Ravelry.

It was knit using around 1 1/2 skeins of Aslan Trends Royal Alpaca in a lovely rich royal blue. I think it is just lovely worn long like this but it would also be lusciously warm and cozy wrapped two or three times around the neck on a cold winter's day.

I really like the simple lace pattern. But when I was done with this it was time for something simpler.

The bulky cowl below was inspired by Marian, also a free Ravelry download, although I didn't download the pattern. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase and knit after seeing it knit in this same gray yarn, Ella Rae's super bulky yarn Mega. Even though I was intrigued, and everyone in my knitting group was purchasing the yarn that night, it wasn't until I tried it on over Creep that I was completely sold. Luckily this one is a really fast knit.

As I mentioned above I didn't check the pattern, just cast on what seemed like an appropriate number of stitches on what I hoped was an appropriate needle and went ahead. I like the result even though my cowl is narrower and firmer than the original. Perhaps it will stretch and drape over time, but I really don't care. I am perfectly happy with it now.

I'm now down to simple stockinette projects and very limited knitting time and attention span. I expect things to be crazy busy around here so expect erratic postings. In two weeks I will be in Knoxville.

December 4, 2011
Muttering While Packing, or is it Packing While Muttering

Yesterday I was at the vet, sitting and waiting for my (actually Sam's) appointment and I overheard a telephone conversation that just had me livid completely out of proportion to the situation.

Someone was on the phone (duh) and she said "yes Thanksgiving dinner was good" …"The man cooked it" …"he even made stuffing"…."It was really good"…. "I couldn't believe it either".

I was really about to lose it when we were called into the examining room and I started fretting about Sam, who somehow developed diabetes just as we were putting the house on the market and are packing and moving and it is absolutely the worst time for a poor sweet sensitive cat who really just likes things to be quite and uneventful to get sick, and I forgot about the conversation. I forgot about it until I was in the car and it just started rolling around in my head again.

I don't even know who I feel this whole conversation is more insulting toward — men, whom we assume can't cook (are they too dim? or is it that they are too bright and cooking is mere "women's work") But then if it is the latter it is really demeaning to women. But it is demeaning even if we think only women can cook because they "pay attention to the details more" and taking pride in the idea that women cook and men don't. As soon as we decide something can only be done by one or the other sex, we are putting both sexes down, as if each group only holds a subset of the qualities that make up the whole creature known as "human".

Why do we give a guy who cooks a turkey AND dressing accolades? Why don't we marvel that mom or grandma or the lady next door just happened to turn out a fabulous turkey and dressing and maybe even (hold your breath) PIE. Really we take it for granted that women can make Thanksgiving dinner and really only comment upon those who fail. Why is it considered an affront if a woman can't cook a decent turkey but if a man burnt the turkey no one would care? Why do we applaud a man who "helps" around the house and condemn the woman who doesn't?

Yes there are very real biologial differences between men and women and I applaud them, and these differences do affect or pyschology and everything about us, and I applaud that too. But the rest of it? Why do we have to get ourselves so invested in our own little pieces of the metaphorical pie? Why limit ourselves? Why limit others? Just why?

Really, we let men get away with far too much. And don't give ourselves nearly enough credit.

Asside from my self-absorbed mental peregrinations, I am occupied with the mundane tasks of packing. Being the perhaps neurotic person I am, I have color-coded the new house and purchased 10 colors of duck tape to assist in the packing process.

Aside from cataloging box contents, I am wrapping each box in the appropriate color tape so that it will be evident where it goes when it is unloaded. It will also be very evident if any box ends up in the wrong room.

I can see already that I will need a great deal of tape and that I did not perhaps purchase enough of certain colors. Luckily that situation can be remedied with a simple trip to the store.

In the meantime, it may be overkill, but the colors make me happy.

November 30, 2011
Everyday Blues

Although sometimes I feel very comfortable standing out in a crowd, far more often I feel happiest when I blend into the background, pulled together yes, but also comfortable and appropriate.

A couple of weeks ago I posted a bright blue outfit, which I was wonderfully happy wearing. But don't go getting any ideas. Even though I love to dress up, most days my impulses run more toward function than frivolity.

Patti, at Not Yet Dead Style, says that Visible Monday is about what makes us feel wonderful/visible, and I applaud the idea of visible Monday. But what happens when the clothing that makes us feel most wonderful is more closely aligned to our actual habitat? Do we become invisible? I don't really think so. Or by allowing our dress to be more attuned to where we are and what we do do we actually allow ourselves to be more ourselves and more visibly a part of our environment?

I don't have the answers to these questions. I am not sure I ever will. In fact, I am not sure that I ever want to reach a point in life where I feel I have more answers than questions.

I've mentioned before that I live in the country, or in a small town at the outer edge of a extended suburban area, in a gray area between suburbia and farmland. In this setting, my autumnal garb mostly consists of jeans and boots. If I go north I need to walk on cobblestone sidewalks. I often need to tramp through a little bit of mud. If I go south, I need a little more polish. Either direction I need to remain warm and dry. I hope to manage all these things while looking somewhat pulled together, competent, and practical but without looking sloppy. Usually my uniform of choice for running errands about town is something like this.

The simple truth is that I feel wonderful in this outfit. I feel like I am a part of this place where I live, and yet from this place I also feel like I can conquer the world. Of course, I would rather conquer the world surreptitiously. To that end I feel well atired.

Fry Boots

Michael Kors Jeans

J Crew Flannel Shirt

Carlisle Silk Scarf

Fleece-lined Barbour Jacket

Loro Piana Bag

Only the shirt is new.

November 28, 2011