My days go by so fast it makes my head spin. I probably don't accomplish that much, but I try to concentrate on major things. Take care of my body, my family, and my house. Socialize. Knit. You get the picture.

The other day I did several loads of laundry, felted bowls in between loads and went for a two hour walk with a friend and my son down by the sea wall. We got some very cute photos of his two-month birthday. For awhile I was making lame excuses for not working out. Stupid excuses like not having proper footwear. The last pair of sports shoes that I bought was way back in 7th grade when I wanted to join the track team. I owned them for 11 years. I quit the track team before the first meet. Running sucks. I finally threw my Adidas away when we were moving from Germany to Virginia and I realized that I was hanging onto .. well, trash. Plus, my plastic tote with shoes was absolutely bursting at the seams and the whole scenario was ridiculous.

Reminiscing about footwear : here's a photo of the first pair of socks I ever knit. Back in 2005 I was stuck in Marmaris, Turkey with nothing to do after the tourist season had ended. I had vague plans of possibly staying there on a permanent basis, even if that meant taking the ferry to Greece every six months to renew my tourist visa. (And I swear (crossing my fingers) I was not the girl hiding out with the Russian chick in the bathroom when the Turkish cops came looking for illegal workers.) I was working as a tattoo artist for a friend of a friend of my ex-boss. After months of working up to 14 hours a day, mostly tattooing and sometimes selling jewelry, I was bored out of my mind in the coldest winter Turkey had seen in 50 years. All hopes of living it up in a warm climate for the winter went out the window.

On the weekends I taught my boss's ten-year-old daughter, Sezan, English. I adopted a kitten and I taught myself how to knit socks on DPNs. I simultaneously had two websites open - some picture tutorial to guide me through the steps and a free generic sock pattern. Somehow I managed to wrestle 5 needles and a ball of yarn into two, equally sized and very slippery socks while huddled in front of a space heater. Two months later while recovering from surgery, I knit another pair of pink and orange striped socks. Those were the only pairs of socks I ever finished. I have two loners hiding out, one still on 0-sized needles because I lost my pattern notes and another gigantic I-broke-up-with-him-before-his-socks-were-done sock. One of these days I might get over my new sock-knitting phobia and start again.

Try as a might, I could not find wool locally in Marmaris, the yarn stores only carried acrylic. I still have most of a ball of the green/brown yarn left. I'll probably never use it, it's more a souvenir of a time past. I think it's kind of ugly now, anyways. Maybe I'll knit a charity hat and attach a story to the yarn. Or maybe I'll store it until the moths consume it. (Insert shrug here.) When I flew home to Germany two days after Christmas I left behind a pile of clothing so I could fit more yarn in my luggage. Me? A yarn-stasher in the making? No....

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