End of summer summary

Things have finally slowed down to a more reasonable pace. This post will be higher on photos than usual.

Alex and Bobbi are married (Bobbi's bouquet at left) and in London... with our cat I might add. Okay, she's not truly ours, but she is on the list of my three most favorite cats ever. The ultimate Halloween kitty, living the life of a world traveler. We've bought our tickets, and on Boxing Day, we're headed to London to mooch off our dear friends for two weeks. I'm sure we'll drag each other all over creation, but I'm looking forward to some good old fashioned family style meals together again too.

On Heather's recommendation (her salve for my work-wounded spirit), I went to the Vermont Sheep and Wool Festival. We saw a fantastic display of working sheep dogs - truly amazing animals, and of course loads and loads of fiber. Everything a fiber nut could possibly want was there... including the animals the goods came from!

Our kick-off to the autumn season was my brother's wedding. We chased that with the Scottish Highland Games in New Hampshire (which seemed appropriate since my brother and his best man were kilted). Last weekend, we stayed with my folks at camp in the Northeast Kingdom. Went on a short hike to ogle foliage and spent the rest of the time eating and puttering around doing odd jobs out there. While moving wood, we found a monarch chrysalis on the woodpile. It caught my eye because it stood out against the bark - beautiful jade green with metallic gold spots.

The latest addiction is patchwork bags. There's a lovely new quilting store the next town over, and I paid it a visit. The Better Half has no idea why one would express their appreciation for fabric colors and patterns with the word "yum", so he left me to my own devices just long enough for me to pig out. The weather is cooling down, and my habits turn indoors, so I hope to crank out a few bags and knit some franken-chickens this winter.

Today, we breakfasted at our favorite coffee hole, and hit the last weekend of the farmer's market. It was nice to wander the stalls this morning, before the crowds descended. We met a potter with a sense of humor that shows in his work, and his wares will make good Christmas presents. Not to be left out, we bought ourselves a ninja robot mug. I picked up a fennel bulb and leeks, and i'll grill those tomorrow to make a slaw to go with our pale ale bratwurst. If it stops raining, we'll stop at the orchard to get the makings for apple crisp. Heart stopping sausage and a dessert packed full of butter - there is no better fall meal!

Please Don't Congratulate Me

Anyone interested in why I haven’t been emailing or blogging much lately? I have no excuse other than complete mental and physical exhaustion because of this:


Memorandum
To: All Bank Employees
From: ***
Date: 10/2/2007
Re: Lafayette Branch Manager

I am pleased to announce that Heather L has been promoted to the position of Branch Manager at our Lafayette Rd. branch. She began her career with *** in 2004 as the Assistant Branch Manager of the Lafayette Rd. branch.

Heather began her banking career in 1991 at Portsmouth Savings Bank. She has held various positions over the years from teller to assistant manager while increasing her knowledge of the financial field.

She brings to her new position excellent customer service skills, an understanding of the existing customer base, and desire to learn and grow with the organization.

Please join me in congratulating Heather in her new role and wishing her much success!



What a load of sh*t. Desire to learn and grow, my fat *ss. I’m really not happy about this.

Our last manager left on August 10th, and I’ve been manning the ship alone ever since. Originally I applied for the job, but then withdrew my application because I felt really manipulated and that just made me more stubborn about the entire situation.

I’ve been in banking now for about sixteen years, and I can honestly say that this is not where I ever thought I would be. I took my first bank job as a teller because it was a step up from working at the mall. As time went on different opportunities came up I moved around and did different things but always stayed in banking. At that point in my life, it didn't seem that bad. Then I went and got divorced. This meant I needed more money, fast. I took my first banking position in management, and I’ve regretted it ever since. You know when something just doesn’t feel right? This didn’t feel right. Of course, I was in a situation where I couldn’t possibly win and there were even days when there were tellers physically attacking each other in the lobby. I had no support, no back up, no chance. After M and I got engaged, we decided it was time to get out of Massachusetts and see what was going on back home on the Seacoast. So, off to another management job in banking. Still not feeling right but a job none the less which was really the important part at the time. This wasn't as bad, since there was an experienced manager already there, but still it was not quite what I wanted. Until of course, she quit. And I don’t blame her, she needed to quit.

So, this brings me back to this August. As the only person who could do any type of customer service or supervision at all, I was pretty much here all day every day 8:15 to 5:15, usually with about fifteen minutes for lunch. I couldn’t leave the building. Well, I could leave the building, but the farthest I could go was usually the mail box. Some weeks I would get a day off during the week when another branch manager would take pity on me and cover for the day. The last time I had a Saturday off was August 11th. There's no overtime pay since I'm salaried and this is truly the first time I have regretted that.

When I withdrew my initial application, no one seemed to care. Frankly I couldn’t have been more honest with these people about just how much I didn’t want this job, and how I was obviously not the person they were looking for. Time passed. A few weeks, in fact. There was no ad placed in the paper. No one else internally was interested in the job. No one outside the bank really even knew we were looking for help. Five weeks after our manager left I was approached by the same woman I originally interviewed with, and I was asked to reconsider. It was made fairly clear to me that the only way I was going to get any help here at all was to take over as manager and find an assistant. I thought about it for a couple of days. I finally said yes, I would reconsider, as long as they knew they were getting me exactly as I am. Nothing had changed for me in the last five weeks and I still didn't really see myself as the type they were looking for. But I was willing to give it a shot. I really and honestly thought that since they asked me, this was a done deal and we were all just going to move on. In general I think I am pretty smart and savvy about people, but sometimes my naiveté stuns me. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The very next day, they put an ad in the paper, looking for a branch manager. Many, many days went by with almost no contact from these people. One of them was overheard to say that since they had put in the ad after all, she wanted to get her moneys worth out of it. Yep, after this same person asked me to please take the job she says this. I kept getting put off. One day when I actually asked what was going on I was told that she was talking to the other idiot in charge about this “situation.” When I asked her what situation she was talking about her answer was, “well, you know, how you decided you wanted the job after all.” Like I had thrown them all into a tizzy because suddenly I wanted the job. Like they hadn’t asked me to take the job. I’m the situation? Me? But, wait. I don't really want the job. I said yes because I felt I needed to. I'm the situation? I thought I was fixing the situation. I'm the situation?!?

On a Monday I was told I would know what their decision was on Friday. Friday I was told I would know on Tuesday. Tuesday I was told I would know on Thursday. Thursday came and went with noting at all. Finally, last Friday, after SEVEN WEEKS of manipulation and time wasting, I get a three minute phone call saying they want to offer me the job. And I had to decide right then and there. The only reason I have said yes is because at this point I want to get paid for what I’ve been doing for two months. Plus, if I can just manage to hang on until February when we get our bonus, it will certainly be a better bonus. Great reasons, huh?

I just hope I’ve made the right decision.

End of the Summer of Socks

This is the fourth and final pair completed for the Summer of Socks. It ended up being a completely plain sock, but I think it will be my favorite. I love the stripes and the pink heel and toe are from a slightly thicker yarn. These may be the most comfortable socks I've made. Overall, the Summer of Socks was a success for me, because it encouraged me to actually complete pairs of socks, not just randomly cast on something new after I lose interest. I didn't ever think I had a shot at most socks knit, so I didn't end up disappointed or anything. Knowing that I have to work six days a week really puts the sock knitting slightly behind some other things in life, like eating and sleeping. Most of my sock knitting happened at night while watching the Red Sox (no, I do not wish to discuss that right now). I did win some stitch markers, and the best part? Four finished pairs of socks. Now I just need to convince myself that finishing the three half done pairs would a good thing. The post season games are coming along soon, and hopefully there will be a WHOLE BIG BUNCH of Red Sox games to knit along with this October.

Good, Big Doings

On a rain and sun speckled day this weekend, in the old granite quarried hills of central Vermont, my brother married his best friend. We were under a heated tent canopy, and young white birches, grapevine, and mums made that space feel like the woods in early fall. Bright paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. Into their vows, my brother wove home, family, friendship, deep love and respect. It was a brief, but very moving ceremony.

Our family has increased exponentially. Not only is my brother a parent of a 5 and 8 year old now, but he has three brothers-in-law. And another set of parents. All of whom I enjoyed immensely this weekend. With our extended family and friends, we laughed and celebrated as long as we could stand it, and on Sunday, dragged ourselves home completely exhausted. A good day - right up there on my list of best days ever.

I sat on our porch at home late that afternoon, and tried to puzzle out the wedding jitters i seemed to have had all weekend. I adore my sister-in-law. She's fantastic. My brother is happy. They glow. So why was I so emotional and jumpy?

The Better Half came and sat with me in the sun, let me read some E.B. White essays to him. A very comforting sort, White. He is the author of "Stuart Little" and my all time favorite "Charlotte's Web". His essays are timeless and so down to earth. A bit of White and my brain began to make some sense of things again.

Of the three siblings in my family, I'm the oldest by four years. By the time my brother came along, I was ready for someone to boss around. And boy, did I. He was so good natured about it... which changed eventually, of course. He was such a sunny, affectionate little person. A dreamer and a doer. Always busy at one or the other, sometimes both at the same time. He's been through a lot. Relationships, Iraq, life in general. I admit to hovering sometimes, to offering my opinion when I think I'm entitled to do so. I fret over his emotional health, his self esteem, his happiness. But lately, I haven't been fretting. Not really at all. And I'm a natural fretter. New worries go into my brain as if it were a rock tumbler. A little tossing about with some grains of sand, and I've worn away all the sharp edges. I experience their new texture like some kind of zen meditation. It's how I adjust, prioritize, make sense of things. I haven't been pulling my brother's worry stones out at all lately. He's happy, he has people (and one sweet dog with a penchant for running away) to go home to every night, and to wake up to each morning. He feels loved and cared for.

As a pseudo-parent, this fretless view of my brother was a big adjustment for me. Oh sure, there's interesting stuff on the road ahead, but for a change, he is equipped with excellent traveling companions. You dream of all sorts of wonderful things for the people you love - and sometimes it feels like being a grown up means accepting that they may never actually happen, no matter how hard you wish. But I got this one, this wish and it's pretty amazing. No wonder I was all emotional. With this Very Good Thing that has happened between my brother and my sister-in-law, and the children, life has given me a big, fat thumbs up.

P.S.
I am a firm believer in family=pie. So, of course quiche was present at the post-wedding brunch for family. Family agreed, and both quiches disappeared. I attribute that not so much to my baking skills, but more to the fact that a buttery crust and bacon (yay fat content!) are an easy sell.

Summer of Socks Update

Even though I've been really bad about blog posts for the Summer of Socks, I have been knitting! In fact, if I actually completed all the socks that hit my needles, instead of frogging them, I'd easily have twice the number I have now. Somehow, even with a clear idea and a gauge swatch, what you get isn't always what you wanted. Anyway! I have three completed pairs right now to show off.

First socks off the needles:

These are Cherry Tree Hill Supersock yarn in a special colorway from Simply Socks Yarn Co. I used the Baby Cable Rib pattern from Sensational Knitted Socks, casting on 56 stitches with 2.75mm needles. For these I used a plain stockinette heel flap, since they seemed busy enough already, without a heel pattern. They are extremely soft and comfy!

The second ones I finished are actually the first ones I cast on. These are Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in Icehouse, in the Cross Hatch Lace Pattern from More Sensational Knitted Socks. (Yes, I have both books and I love them.)

I used a short row heel on these, since I've got a pair of socks made from the same yarn that pooled in a questionable manner with a heel flap. They ended up being a little snug, but the pattern and yarn makes me very happy.

These next socks are sort of not really socks. They're footies, so I don't know if they will count towards my total number of socks knit. They only took one Red Sox game to knit, so if they don't count at least they didn't take a lot of time. They're made from Sereknity's Sock Options Sport Weight in her Rock Lobster colorway. This is the first time I've used her yarn, and I have to say, I love it! So soft, so squishy, so fast to knit up. I can't say enough about this yarn! Must have more!!!

These footies were knit as part of the Sox Knitters group on Ravelry. We decided to all knit red socks for the Red Sox during the games as our little way of helping them beat the Yankees. That sort of fell flat since they beat us, badly. But it was a nice idea and I love my socks.

I have two other pairs on the needles right now. Can't have just one! The first is just straight stockinette and the other is a simple rib pattern, so hopefully I can knit like a fiend for the next little bit and get them done!

PS to blogger - I'm so hating you and your stupid "dashboard"!!! Any weird formatting errors in this post are totally your fault, since you won't let me fix them! Auuuggghhh! Bad Blogger! Bad!

Warning...Rant Ahead

There seems to be a lot of um…hostility...out in the knitting blogosphere these days. Apparently there are rules that must be followed as set out by some um…Knitters In Charge. I’ve been reading some blogs and visiting a forum that seems to have some issues that they need to deal with. I recently read a series of posts about what constitutes a “knitting blog.” Apparently you only qualify as a “knitting blog” if you offer free patterns, of your own design, for things that this person specifically wants. And NO PERSONAL CONTENT PLEASE. Personal content will make this person NEVER VISIT YOUR BLOG AGAIN! Can you imagine the horror of losing this person as a reader? How will all of us personal content writers survive? What will happen to our dreams of fame and fortune and the love of a good Knitter In Charge? Based on their criteria, I should immediately remove the word knitting from my blog title. I am not worthy of the word. Of course, that brings up a different problem. If it were simply called Gourmet Disasters, rather than Gourmet Knitting Disaster, will that upset the Gourmets In Charge? I don't want to have them on my case too, because then it would just be Disasters. I'm sure FEMA would soon find out and make me take that out too. In fact, maybe I should just quit blogging all together. I obviously don't know what I'm doing.

As well, there are certain words and phrases that must not be used, for fear of upsetting people who think these words and phrases are improperly used or possibly inflammatory. Words like “fiddly.” Apparently all the new knitters and want-to-be knitters who are reading what constitutes a true knitting blog are scared off when they see someone say that a pattern or technique is “fiddly.” They then feel that this must be something they could never do.

My first thought on reading this was that anyone who is deterred from something they want to do by a total stranger, well…then they either aren’t ready to do it, don’t want to do it, or shouldn’t be doing it anyway. In any event, it is not a universal responsibility of a writer and/or knitter to make sure everyone feels encouraged and included.

My second thought was that I have used that term, and I’m annoyed that this person thinks she knows what I meant when I said it. While doing a three color intarsia patterned sock with two circular needles, I said that it was fiddly, which it was. It was like knitting with an octopus. (Three balls of yarn and four needle points only add up to seven, but my octopus lost a leg in a tragic spinning accident years ago, so now I knit with a seven legged octopus.) My use of the word fiddly was no indication of whether or not I thought other people should try it. Maybe they are better knitters than I am and they would find intarsia to be a breeze. Maybe they couldn’t do it with all the encouragement in the world. It was not an indication of whether or not I was a total loser and just gave up because it was too hard, and in the process encouraged everyone else to stop trying it as well. (I didn’t. It’s making me crazy, but I’m still doing it.)

Anyone who knows me at all can attest to the fact that I do not follow direction well. I don’t like being told what to do. I like it less when total strangers feel the need to instruct anyone on how to conduct themselves in the knitting world. Part of what I love about talking with and meeting other knitters is the amazing diversity of people. Everyone comes from a different place and has taken up knitting for very different reasons. It is an artistic expression, much like writing is. Not everyone who knits has jumped on the bandwagon because they think it’s the cool thing to do, or because they plan to make their fortune designing knitting patterns, or because they want to be famous by writing their blog. Some of us just like writing and knitting. We should be able to do what we choose with our knitting and blogging without fear of censorship or flaming from people with nothing better to do. I’m far more put off by the behavior of a few individuals than I am by the average person who dares to use the wrong words or talk about their cats. If they want to make sure “everyone is encouraged and included” maybe they should look to themselves and their own comments first. And if I ever visit their blogs again, there had better not be any personal content.

Wedding Weekend

Many of the people who read this blog were actually at this wedding, but it certainly deserves it's own post with some pictures. For those of you not there, the wedding was at the Lareau Farm Inn over in Vermont. For me it was more than a wedding, it was a reunion of people I have known as far back as the first grade. For those of you who know how old I am, that was a long time ago! Jessica and Joel I hadn't seen since the early 1990s!! Michael I hadn't seen since our sixth grade graduation!!!

First, Alex and Bobbi looking happy and relieved. Oh, and married. Don't they look married? I'm so happy for you both.



Kate and Steve looking awfully nice themselves...


And the reunited (if incomplete) Shrewsbury crowd, including from left to right:

Joel, me, Alex, Jess, and Michael.


The last time the five of us were in one place was in the sixth grade. Can you pick out who is who?



The whole weekend was really nice. Mark and I spent a few extra nights to celebrate our own anniversary, and many fine books and skeins of yarn were purchased. We managed to squeeze in a breakfast with Jessie and family before they headed out, and we met Steve and Kate for a great lunch in Burlington, and got to spend some time with them. Thanks to both of you for staying awake long enough to visit!

So, much fun was had by all, and I'm immeasurably glad that I was able to be a part of it. I did get a little melancholy driving home when we passed signs for the exit to Rutland. The six years I spent in Shrewsbury were some of the happiest I've had, and certainly the happiest of my childhood. I got a little sad thinking about the fact that these particular people will never be together in just this way again. People grow up and move on and have lives and stay in touch the best that they can, that's just the way it is. I'm just so glad I still have friends like all of you.

Decisions

We’re home from Burlington (this deserves its own post, with photos, to come later), and the portion of my vacation to be spent at home has begun. The biggest problem for me with vacations is that usually by this point (only a few days in) I start to freak out about having “wasted” my days off and end up in a state of hysteria for the rest of the week. I have always done this, and it annoys M to no end. This time around, I’m not sure exactly how the rest of the week will go. I’m feeling more than the usual sick-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach thing than usual, because when I go back, our manager will be gone. She’s taken a job with another bank, closer to home. I don’t begrudge her this. I think anyone who willingly drives long distances to work when a closer option exists is crazy for many, many reasons. Anyway, back to me. Before going on vacation I did apply for the position because it seemed like the thing to do, even though I think I’ve been pretty clear about not wanting to do this job. I’ve posted about it before here, if you need a refresher. This is not the sort of place where you get promoted because you deserve it; you have to apply like everyone else off the street. Frankly, whether I want it or not seems sort of irrelevant because I feel like I should be offered this position since there is no one better able to take over. Hell, I’ve been doing her job and mine for two and a half years. My heart isn’t in it, though. I’ve felt for a few years that I really need to get out of banking. Don’t even get me started on how the PATRIOT ACT has ruined banking. Just don’t.

In any event, my interview did not go well. I really don’t like the two people who would become my immediate supervisors in this job, and I find it hard to refrain from telling them exactly what I think of them. It doesn’t pay to burn the bridges before you see where they go. Fortunately I only had to interview with her, but believe me, it was bad enough. I was asked all sorts of weird questions that left me wondering what the hell she was after. What do these questions mean? What does she think my answers say about me? I often feel like she thinks I’m a total moron, and most of what she says is clichés that sound as if they are straight out of Management 101. She makes me feel icky and manipulated. At least half of the hour and a half I spent with her was taken up listening to her talk about herself and how she does things. I was so wound up after I got home that I called my office and said I wasn’t coming in. I had already missed more than half the day, and my anxiety attack prevented me from finishing the rest. I was given an “assignment” for this vacation. I am supposed to write up a business plan as if this were my own business detailing exactly what I would do to generate new business and exactly what my marketing plan would look like. How am I supposed to know? I’ve never done marketing. My initial answer that I would meet with the marketing team and decide what to do was apparently not good enough. My comment that this would be a learning process for me and that they needed to either give me the job and let me try it or let’s all just move along was also not good enough.

I’ve given this a great deal of thought over the past few days, and I have decided to withdraw my application and let the chips fall where they may. This is not a job I want on any terms and I certainly don’t want it on hers. I don’t really care at this point what they think of me. I have no respect for them, so what do I have to lose there? If they hire someone from outside who makes my life a misery, well, it sort of already is. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want to get out of management and possibly banking all together, so if I have to leave, well, fine. I obviously need a fire under my ass to get me out of here and into something that I can at least marginally enjoy. I have also made it fairly clear that I would prefer to work out of our main office, which is so close that if I stand on our front porch I can see the parking lot. Sadly, after two and a half years, nothing has come up in that office that would be a good fit for me.

While I’m still feeling a little sick around the edges about all this, I’m also staring to feel a little better now that I have sort of made a decision. My family is behind me in this, and that makes me feel better too. Everyone knows that I would ultimately be unhappy, and we all know that the amount of money on offer is fairly small and would not make up for the soul-sucking horror that would be involved. Now I just need to try to put it to the back of my mind and enjoy the rest of my vacation.