Shenandoah National Park
I'm taking everyone's advice and setting the knitting aside for now. I know it'll come back to me soon. It better be back by the end of September when I go to Virginia. Mareseatoats signed us up for a class with Jane Slicer Smith. I don't know which class or classes we're taking, but the idea of learning some new techniques is exciting--it may be just what I need to knit my way out of this rut. In any case, it should be a fun 4 day weekend. My baby brother is flying out with me so we'll have a bit of a family reunion. We'll be short one brother, unless he changes his mind. I hope he does.
On a search for music to match my feelings this week, I got to thinking about the soundtrack of my life. You know, it wasn't half bad. I used to feel sorry for my kid's generation because they just didn't have what I did growing up. Oh wait a minute...yes they did! They were my captives for so long that they had no choice but to listen to my music. Later, I became a bit of a captive to their sounds. Although I can't get into all of what they listen to, surprisingly, I like a lot of it, like Eminem, Kid Rock, Greenday, RHCP and Jason Mraz. It's an eclectic selection to be sure, but just can't compete with the sounds of my youth.
For some reason, even though this song is about lost love, I feel like dancing when I listen to this music. It's not knitting, but it may just be the next best thing for this funk I'm in.
Here's a taste of Philadelphia's response to the Motown machine:
And yes, I'm spinning wool in addition to spinning records.