Thank you all. I do feel better.

Most of the time I am good at reminding myself it's better to have two or three good and true friends than a host of admirers who may turn fickle. But there's always that "grass is always greener" feeling.

I think it's also just the dead time of the semester. Midfall break is over and gone, there's nothing much to look forward to now, just the long push to the end of the semester. Everyone's fatigued.

It's also the curse of being a high achiever and having high expectations - nothing is ever *quite* good enough, I'm always seeing the flaws where I could have done things better, never can quite silence that inner critic.

I think I'm also just reeeeeaaaallly stressing over the leaf-raking and pickup activity this afternoon. My concerns are these: (a) the only people who show up will be the three or four kids who always show up regardless of whether there's work or fun, and we won't have viable teams. (b) there will be an insufficient number of loaned rakes and there will be lots of folks standing around. (c) no one signed up to have their yard done [that might actually be a relief even though we wouldn't make any money] (d) everyone who signed up has a GIANT yard and we don't get through everyone who signed up, and people are unhappy...

It frustrates me to be in a position of responsibility when I don't have much control over the variables of the situation. Because if something out of my control goes wrong, I'm still going to be the one who catches heck. I'm very afraid I will look incompetent in this, and looking incompetent is one of my biggest fears.

Well, anyway. It will be over (until next week) by tomorrow. On to the pictures:



This is the second pair of giftsocks for my mom, as far as I am on them by now. I need to get going if I'm going to finish these. (Yes, by Christmas. I have one other Christmas-gift to make as well. I'm really glad I chose to buy things for the somewhat-anonymous gift-exchanges I do within the two women's groups I belong to).


I also felt the need last night to complete something. This is a small quilt I pieced probably two years ago, took down to have quilted over the summer, and never got around to binding until now. (I have a second, almost-twin-bed-sized quilt that needs binding. Binding is my least favorite step.)

What I think I need to do:

I think, if I can find time this afternoon or this evening, to pull one of my "knitting as it's interwoven into your life" books off the shelf (either one of the Susan Gordon Lydon books, or the Linda Skolnik book, or maybe even just one of the KnitLit books) and read some of it. I think I'm getting too tracked into work-stuff and volunteer-stuff and am not taking the time (not having the time) to sit and contemplate like I sometimes do, and that's making me worn and sad.

I'm not entirely sure I like this newer, busier life that I have.

I also have to say: any time I feel bad that I've not had kids, I go to the Wal-mart at 4:30 in the afternoon. Between the 4 year olds who are saying "but I don't waaaaaaaaant to waaaaaaaaaaalllllk, carry meeeeeee" and the six year olds seeing if they can whine hard enough to get the sugary cereal they want and the eight year olds pretending baguettes are lightsabers, I generally come home with a fresher perspective. I am not sure I would have the patience to deal with a four year old who whines to be carried when I'm already pushing a laden cart, or a child who decides to try throwing a giant screaming tantrum to see if they can embarrass their parent into caving in to their demands. (I also realize I would make a poor diplomat; much of that skill seems to revolve around dealing with adults who are figuratively whining to be carried or throwing giant screaming tantrums to get their way).

Part of my frustration stems from the fact that there are really times that I'd like to ask someone to "carry meeeeeeee" even though I weigh one hundred and (mumble) pounds, or that I'd like to have the freedom to pretend that a baguette is a lightsaber (well, without getting thrown out of the place). Being a responsible adult is a drag sometimes.