PNewL PNewS
Volume 30 Issue 3 “All the pnews that phits.” Sept/Oct 2022
I Could Do That
I realized recently that when I say, “I could do that,” I wind up doing a lot of interesting things. It took me all this time to actually hear myself say it…and know…here we go again.
In the early stages of “coming out of Covid,” Judi said it would be nice to restart a much-loved event in the crafty world of Asheville—the Anything Fiber Sale—if only we had someone to lead it. As she said it, I thought, I could do that and then I thought, I wonder if I said that out loud, and lo and behold, I had. What followed was the coming together of a wonderful team of people who did what they said they were going to do and made it all come together. We organized and advertised and sorted and emailed and Score! A successful event—a garage sale for fiber nerds—wrapped up with 40+ happy vendors and hundreds of happy shoppers. A good time was had by all.
Back in the early ‘90s, I discovered travel. I went to Australia by myself which turned out to be a remarkably good thing to do. Next, I thought I would like to take a cooking class at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. (I read about it in Gourmet… remember magazines? They were fun.) As a 97% pure white person, I thought I really should do the Grand Tour of Europe that I had never done and perhaps I could tie them together with a few months in between and the Round the World Tour was born, because…all together now…I could do that. (I remember Steve asking me why I was going and one of my answers was…because I can.)
Plenty of more travel ensued and each time it just seemed do-able so I went. Remember when I flew 50 flights on United to get two free Business Class tickets anywhere in the world? Took me 2 ½ days to get to my parent’s house for Christmas and the same to get home. That was a hoot.
When I left California and took a year driving around to try to figure out where to live next, I did the Housesitting Tour (It wasn’t called that but I can’t remember right now what I called it…the Domestic Tour?) because I had a job that was mobile and I had a laptop and a cellphone. Seemed like yes, I could do that.
I am finding as I get older, I need to be a teeny bit more discerning. I could do it but is it really what I want to do? I know when I told Bill I would move to Portugal with him, I back peddled but it looks like he did too. There’s still time.
Roger Waters Newell 2008-2022
Roger died peacefully in the presence of a few of his loved ones. It was time—he was ready and it was a nice day. He ate his last meal voraciously as always, and finished it off with a biscuit. The hole was dug, the landing was softened by some leftover wool and Roger the Dodger was off on his next adventure. I will miss him always.
Buster has not expressed any looking-for-Roger-type behavior. He has been sticking closer to home (’course it was raining a lot) and last night when I went to a fly tying (!) class at Eluvium (WVL brewery) for an hour, he ate the pocket of my jacket...which Bear had eaten before him. (I am grateful that neither dog damaged the outside of the jacket so it lives on. No harm, no foul.) In retrospect, Buster does seem a little bit more needy and worried but we are both settling into the new normal. Off we all go.
Things I am Learning
& Miscellaneous Observations
• Several months ago, I read an article titled Your Pillow is Grosser than you Think…or something like that. I gave my pillows some thought and I am not going to go into the details—it’s embarrassing—but they have all been replaced. I highly recommend it. The article said to replace them every two years which I will never do, but maybe every decade or so…
• The postcards I sent from Iceland arrived four months after sending. Good to know.
• There are spaces between the planks on my front porch. I constantly drop knitting markers between them—today, I almost dropped a large sewing needle. One day soon, I need to go rescue whatever is down there.
• I am not good with people or animals at the end of life. It’s so frustrating and the love/annoyance bouncing back and forth is so confusing and tiring and sad. And it’s smelly and disruptive and time-consuming. And then it’s over and I can’t go back…ever. There is no do-over, there is no “Hey wait I have to tell you something…” And there are some niggling bad feelings about not doing enough. Gotta get back to the love part.
• I went on an evening raid to get leftover political signs for the structure of signs for an event I am working on. The election was 10 days ago. Leftover signs are free for the picking, in my humble opinion. As long as I was out, I stopped at the liquor store. As I was leaving, I noticed a really handsome car—it was a Subaru which,…well, this is a Subaru town, so I’ve had a hankering for one. As the apparent owner walked out, I asked, Do you like this car? And he said YES! And lo and behold, he worked for Subaru. Eventually, I said, I like Subaru but when are you going to get a hybrid and he said SOON (and in partnership with Toyota which is what I am driving). He gave me his card. Ha. [I later learned that Asheville was going to get one hybrid and then it would be a matter of ordering it and waiting. I went on the Subaru website to see if they had one on the lot—no—and saw what they did have. All but one car was around $40k. This is not an impulse purchase!]
So I am driving home looking for signs and they were all picked up. (I missed one at a major intersection.) As I was getting out towards my house, I saw one and made a sudden turn, put the car into park and as I opened the door, Buster took off. This is not a quiet country road. People are going 50 mph at the minimum. Buster is going up the hill on this side of the road then crossing to the other with cars honking and slowing down and yelling and I am a wreck. He heads towards a house that has always made me nervous, plus they have chickens. I am sure they are very nice people but then they might shoot me...or him. It’s that kind of place. Buster will not come; I do not feel safe. I go home.
As I drive in the driveway, the phone rings. A very heavily (Southern) accented voice says, We have your dog. I ask them where they are—I tell them where I am. I drive to them waiting at a stop sign a couple roads away. It is a mom and an adult son who is cuddling Buster. Buster is very pleased with…everything. I get the dog and give the mom a wad of bills (I’ve always wanted to say “a wad of bills.” It was more likely a tidy pile.) and apologize profusely. Disaster averted again. I have since found Buster will not come to me because he knows the game is over, but he will come to everyone else.
• It feels naïve to say but I am pleasantly surprised by how much I have been learning lately. Things just keep trying to get into my brain of very few available memory cells. I am hopeful that I can retain some of it.
• I spend a fair amount of time packing for a trip. Driving to the airport, I realized I could happily travel with only knitting, my computer, ID, a mask and a credit card. (Oh, and a toothbrush + change of clothes.)
• We were talking about travel and how it isn’t as much fun as it once was. Marnie said she was glad that she would never have to go to an airport again except to pick up and drop off friends. It’s one of those comments that has stayed with me. I get it. I’ve had some really annoying experiences at airports and on airplanes, and the frequency seems to be increasing. For the most part, I remember the really bad ones (spending the night in the Charlotte airport, three hours from home, because they were out of hotels and it was already really late) but the minor delays and people being goofballs blur over time. I am not ready to give up on travel quite yet despite the effects my selfishness is having on the environment. I have noticed that I am honing in on places that seem Important for me to visit plus Portugal and Angel Island and...I will give this more thought.
• I am about to head home from Missoula after a wonderful visit with family in a beautiful place. I met my great nephew before he turned one. He is precious and adorable and charming. Isn't it great to be able to leave him when he's fussy? Thanks for sharing your son, and menagerie, and home, Bowen and Hayley. Thanks to Mike and Martha and Grover for the hospitality. And thanks to Peggy and Suzy and Betsy for visits with old (long time, I mean!) friends. I'm sure I missed someone...sorry.
• Based on some random schedule I created for the PNewS, I am late getting this out. By more than a month. Silly me. Once again, I have several excuses but the bottom line is life and I got in the way of sitting down and organizing my thoughts. Writing this has become part of my routine. I always know things are out of whack when I don’t get to this. So here I am—out of whack or perhaps getting back into whack. I have made a successful trip to meet Sterling, and that has helped. I am going to stop before the end of the page…because I can.
