life lived in the past

I've been washing sweaters and had to repair a tiny rip. In my sewing basket (rarely used) I found the tape measure and thimble that belonged to my mother. The things I saved after she died. They're probably 100 years old. My mother was born in 1904, began sewing as a girl, and never threw anything away--ever! And then there's me. I hate to sew. I knit. And lately I'm not very motivated beyond socks which are more like therapy and meditation. But I did finish a pair of socks for Dante (GG grandson) whom I'm going to see in a week (I hope he likes me)! 

plunged into the 1980s
On Wednesday evening, all of our internet and cell service went out. For a moment I thought that maybe I'd forgotten to pay the bill! But we weren't the only ones. Next morning I found out that a fiber optics center in Eagle Nest had gone out. The reason, they surmised, was due to rodents! Ah, New Mexico! High tech done in by mice! Ten hours later we were still without services. I met up with my friend at mondo italiano cafe and connected my iPad to their wi-fi service called Pizza Pie. Then I found out that all had been restored, but didn't know I had to reboot my router! The guy at the internet office was disdainful. How? I asked. And that really plunged me into an useless object who feeds on the brilliance of others. However, I followed his directions and within minutes we were back online.

It was quite nice to not feel compelled to check emails and facebook for more than 24 hours. It was like reeling back in time before devices -- I was ready to chop wood and haul water! While working, I had to resort to actual paper books on my bookshelves for reference. It was nice and I remembered when we first came to Taos for a month or more each summer and drove 2200 miles from Connecticut and the car was filled with cartons of reference books, reams of paper, and a Smith-Corona word processor that was the cat's pajamas in the 1980s. I worked at a small student desk in the bedroom of the condo near a slider that opened out to a patio where I sat tanning and heard prairie dogs' calls and thought it was so very Southwest and there was a faraway neon gas station sign that blinked, in red, Gas House Gas House. Ron worked at the dining table with his paints and pads of paper and was inspired to turn out humorous paintings that involved surreal cows that eventually sold over 300 prints! Ah, those were the days. I loved that townhouse that we had no responsibility for except to respect it.

Dante and the socks
A few weeks ago I found yarn called Socken-Monster -- I had to make a pair of socks for Dante!

I researched the unusually named yarn and discovered that there was a book from 2003 called Flusi the Sock Monster. It's out of print but I found one and ordered it for Dante and will give it to him with the socks.

It's a rather ordinary, predictable tale of how socks go missing in the wash, but the illustrations are lovely and since Dante's just over 2 1/2 years old, he will probably love it. He only knows me as "grandma from New Mexico" and that's usually connected to the knitted stuff and books I send him. I can't wait to get reacquainted. He was only seven months old when I last saw him in person. He walks, he talks, he sings, wears sweatshirts and jeans, and loves books and cows.

So now my peaceful throwback interlude is over and I have to plunge back into the oral history manuscript and get ready to leave for New York on Friday (I may take the ms. with me). Oh dear. I like to travel light. Which shoes? Which camera? Do I need a sweater? an umbrella? What don't I need? Let go. I miss the family so much -- that's what's important. And I do hope those linen pants from J. Jill, coming on Monday, actually fit.