Author Archives: Holly

About Holly

fiber person - knitter, spinner, weaver who spent 33 years being a military officer to fund the above. And home. And family. Sewing and quilting projects are also in the stash. After living again in Heidelberg after retiring (finally) from the U.S. Army May 2011, we moved to the US ~ Dec 2015. Something about being over 65 and access to health care. It also might have had to do with finding a buyer for our house. Allegedly this will provide me a home base in the same country as our four adult children, all of whom I adore, so that I can drive them totally insane. Considerations of time to knit down the stash…(right, and if you believe that…) and spin and .... There is now actually enough time to do a bit of consulting, editing. Even more amazing - we have only one household again. As long as everyone understands that I still, 40 years into our marriage, don't do kitchens or bathrooms. For that matter, not being a golden retriever, I don't do slippers or newspapers either. I don’t miss either the military or full-time clinical practice. Limiting my public health/travel med/consulting and lecturing to “when I feel like it” has let me happily spend my pension cruising, stash enhancing (oops), arguing with the DH about where we are going to travel next and book buying. Life is good!

Another stitching day

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Except for an exercise class – can’t forget about self torture – I quietly spent the day listening to an audio book and stitching. I am not sure about my original plan …

Oh, right – it had to do with getting up for an NIH sponsored conference that started at 1000 EDT (which means 0700 for me) on the subject of the Neurological and Psychiatric consequences of COVID-  especially Long Haul COVID. (A side note – CDC and NIH are desperately trying to rename the syndrome/s to something more “official.” It is not working. As one of the speakers said – Long Haul came from the trucking world where heavy loads are hauled over long distances. It really suits, And why shouldn’t those dealing with the subsequent problems get to name their condition? – end digression)

Besides all the usual scientific mumbo-jumbo which all amounted to – we don’t really have a clue – there were some interesting and clear presentations. I will post links for anyone interested once the webinar recordings are placed on line.

Otherwise –

I worked on Part 6 of Owl Forest’s Alice –

se Part 6

which includes the flowers below the table, Alice, mouse, border, the “eat me” cake, and the top of the sock which leads into a shoe (remaining to be stitched). Some of this was actually completed yesterday.

Then I moved on to Claire Bray’s Solar System – The Sun is actually from May but I decided the 3k+ stitches would be easier to follow in Pattern Keeper and got around to loading it this morning. I have two planets on the list for tomorrow…

the start

end of the day

which amounted to about 1700 stitches. That is a lot of oranges….. and I still have 600+ to go…

Mindless cozy mysteries make for good audiobook listening. Of course, Audible is having yet another sale…

Home Early

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For the last several years (several being defined as a couple of months after finishing R-CHOP in summer of 2017) I ventured across the Bay Bridge to the SFVA for follow up every couple of months. That follow up consisted of a check-up with my wonderful oncologist, a boat load of lab tests, and maintenance infusion (with assorted medicines accompanied by pre&post chasers).

The study information (you have to love those involved in academic medicine) supported a regime of 12 doses (q2months) of maintenance meds which resulted in an average of 48 months of disease free existence. The jury is still out as to whether or not going beyond that made any difference. [side note – for anyone paying for medical care out of their pocket, this would be a considerable expense just to get the first 24 months of extended treatment. HMOs don’t normally offer the option of continuing after those 24 moths. The VA, stupid on somethings, doesn’t have those limits on its physicians. While not anywhere near as expensive as George’s stem cell transplant, the cost would be a consideration for many].

Anyway – I have made it to my 48 months without any sign of recurrence. I could continue on the therapy but SARS-COV2 is impacting my decisions. Nothing like an infusion to kill off all CD-20 related white cells every two months. CD-20 is on the B cell lymphocyte line. The line that, among other things leads to plasma cells (which produce antibodies). See where I am going? Nothing like wiping out my immune system every couple of months. With COVID-19 expressing new and more infectious variants.

Right.

I have done fine so far through the last year +, but I don’t have a problem wearing a mask and staying away from crowds. But with Delta, plus all those who don’t want to be immunized to protect themselves and everyone else much less wear masks – I don’t think the risk is going to be worth it.

The end result? Rather than get home at 1600 or later, I was home before 1100, complete with a stop at the bakery for fresh peach turnovers… yummm

Cone of Doom

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Was so named by one of the Canadian cross-stitch designers. Probably because, like many of us, she became frustrated at continually having to buy yet another skein of DMC 310 floss. Aka plain black. There are few patterns that do not include black. Unlike white, there really is only one black. White, OTOH, can be white, bright white, eggshell white, ….. anyone who has ever tried to buy white paint for room walls has gone through the pain of explaining that “just white thank you.” and dealing with the response of “what kind of white?”

Anyway, I was digressing. If I had had a bit more sense, I probably would have gone to the JoAnn’s website and ordered a mini-cone of black and one of white, but I didn’t. I just went to DMC and ordered directly (coupons are sooo useful + free shipping).

And I now have enough black floss to last several lifetimes.

Cone of Doom
(and other options)

 

In case it wasn’t obvious. the new cone is the large beast in the center. For comparison, the skein of red on the top is 8 meters of six-strand floss. The second largest black is #12 sulky on a cone that originally contained 2100 meters. The smaller black spool is a new Egyptian #12 cotton I just picked up (and contains 400 meters). The yellow spool is also sulky #12 on a 300 meter spool.

Why do I want so much black? Ok, I probably will never use up this much black, but it is time to start on Halloween stitching!

Cherries

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

just make life better.

It is near the end of the season. If it wasn’t by time, it certainly would have been by the strangeness of the weather.

I had extremely sour home grown cherries from Alison that didn’t last long at all.

Then there are the Rainier Cherries and the Washington sweet cherries –

my last of the year

 

and I don’t think I will buy any more till spring, next year.

He made it another year

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Doesn’t sound like much to younger people, but to all of us who are past a certain age and have seen most major milestones in the rear view mirror, this past year has been a mix of relief and pain.

I would not expect any of you to remember, but going back – we had a major party for George (2018 – turned 70). In 2019, we spent the summer, which included his birthday with him recovering from his stem cell transplant with the increasing knowledge that it had failed. Mostly that summer was spent with him isolated from just about everyone and everything. Outside people and food really weren’t an option. After all, you don’t go through all of that to take chances on picking up something from unknown sources.

The second transplant in fall of 2019 worked. And that meant a minimum of another 100 days lockdown AFTER his 30 days in the hospital. Which takes us to 2020 – and we all know how we have spent the last 18 months.

So here we are, 2021, and sensibly still celebrated with a home cooked meal (mostly Noah with me contributing) and ending with fresh cobblers baked by Shana. At some point, I am hoping the world will open up again and we will have the opportunity to travel.

 

POD closure

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and I know that POD stands for something, but what? Escapes me at the moment. But POD is the name for the Alameda County run community immunization sites. Starting in January, Fremont Highs School on Foothill Blvd in Oakland was the first of such sites. Open Thurs-Sat, the location was picked for a number of reasons. The area around the high school is one of the lowest income areas in the county. And, as should not be surprising, had one of the highest attack rates of COVID-19 along with not insignificant death rate.

The area has a high immigrant population with Spanish, Vietnamese, Cantonese, Mam, all being more prevalent than English.

Our location was in the brand new gym of the high school – which is home to the Fremont High School Tigers

The Tiger mural watching us

 

I started working there in February and put in more than a dozen shifts during Feb/March. Starting in April, most of my shifts were at the Ashland-Cherryland site.  The Alameda Country Public Health staff worked all the sites, so one saw the same people no matter the location.  But anyway. …

Over the course of about five months, this one particular site (on three days a week) fully vaccinated over 26,000 individuals. Before anyone who has gone to a mass vaccination site scoffs – this location was set to support those who were local, didn’t have transpiration. So everyone walked (or was wheeled) into the POD.

I am mentioning all of this because today was the final day at this location. In addition to those working today a number of the rest of us who had put in a lot of time were invited to celebrate. There was cake

the cake

as well as food.

It was good to have a chance to say thank you and good-bye to many of those with whom I have been working these last five months. I am currently not signed up for anymore shifts as there are plenty of volunteers and most individuals who want immunizations have received them. If it comes to boosters this fall – then I will probably volunteer to work again.

Hung Up

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Can mean a number of things, including a song by Madonna (amazingly extensive article in Wiki.)

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary

1: delayed or detained for a time
2 : anxiously nervous
3 : having great or excessive interest in or preoccupation with someone or something —usually used with on –
they broke up but he’s still hung up on her
hung up on winning

Then there are the much more prosaic uses of the expression – as in “I hung up on …” when referring to telemarketers. Or – “She hung up her clothes…” said in amazement by a parent.

In the following simple case – it is with joy that after three attempts to find hardware that would work on a 1930s door – and with skill from Noah –

Ironing Board and Iron now off the floor when not. in use

Out of the past

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A long time ago (ok, more than 40 years ago), George & I lived in St Paul (MN). I had a small family practice mostly focused on OB and well babies. George was working for Legal Aid. I mentioning this background because connections extend over time, distance, and space. (no, not at Star Trek reference).

I have several lovely Lebküchen tins from our time in Germany. Three of them have been sitting on top of the dining room built in cupboards for several years as indicated by the definite coating of dust. There are family photos inside. Shana has been asking about her baby book; it is somewhere and I will find it. Figuring one way to quell my guilt would be to offer a selection of photos from her infancy and childhood.

Among them, I found pictures from a birthday party she attended when not quite a year old. I looked at the photos, twins. I remembered them, their older brother, and their parents quite clearly. On a whim, I decided to see if I could locate either of the twins. The boy of the two had a fairly unique first name and I located him on a simple search. As a faculty member, his university kindly provided a contact email.

So off went an email. Several days passed; I received a reply. No, he obviously didn’t remember (I don’t know anyone who remembers their first birthday party). but his parents immediately knew who I was. In fact, he was at their house, as were his siblings, and everyone’s spouses and offspring. I emailed off a set of the pictures. They were much appreciated, I was assured.

And I am thinking that sometimes it is alright to be reminded of the times when our hair wasn’t grey (or that we had hair…)

Laundry in my house

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

is a first world problem. Both George and I have more than enough clothes to make it through a couple of weeks. We have several changes of bed linens. We have plenty of towels (hello? perhaps I should say bath sheets as those I brought home from RCCL cruises never seem to die).

So the basket fills up with clothes needing a wash. Then a second basket fills up. This morning I decided that it probably was my turn and started hauling both baskets toward the downstairs utility room. Especially as I took a look at the linens and towels.

——–>8—— three hours later ———-

The last load is in the dryer – mostly towels and jeans. I now have clean clothes stacked on the bed. Mine fall into five neat piles. There are leggings, Uniqlo support tanks, underwear, socks, and pullover tops (most of which have hoods). That is it. Nothing fancy. Nothing that needs a hanger. Absolutely certainly nothing that would ever, under any circumstances require ironing.

It is now back to stitching….

with pretty much the called for DMC in 16ct Sprite by PTP

And then I realized that there was still a load in the dryer. At least it is towels and jeans. Nothing that can’t get wrinkled.

Figuring out a schedule

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

After spending decades in the military where schedule was a given (and not a dirty word) I more or less successfully transitioned to a life of travel where schedule is something you make up yourself. Then on to graduate school where you have little to no control over where and when you have to be.

[side note, if you have forgotten, I can refer you back to my rants of 2018-2019 about the Bar and its requirement for schools to take attendance. That is right, law schools take attendance (which means you have to physically be there. Not watch a video later or get notes). And expect you to participate in class which really doesn’t make up anything as part of the grade unless you are really on a borderline. There are also rules about what percentage of a class can receive what grades…. That part of the whole experience felt like somewhere between elementary school and undergrad @ university].

Like everyone else – we are now going on more than 18 months of a “schedule” being mostly dictated by outside agencies scheduling  Zoom/WebiNex/GoToMeeting/etc meetings. Add in the challenges associated time zones and consistency just didn’t exist.

I added in working at Alameda County Vaccination clinics in the end of January (1-3/week) with shifts being 10hrs+travel time. Those particular locations are being phased out as the demand simply isn’t there anymore. At least here in California, anyone who wants to be vaccinated can be (no charge). The only limits for some anymore are transportation or hours of the clinics. (evening and weekend clinics were added in May).

So here I am, the clinics where I worked are shutting down. The new ones are more than an hour’s drive which really isn’t worth it.  Many of the organizations which were running weekly conferences have dropped back to monthly or bi-monthly. Zoom times are less and less applicable. Other than 3x week exercise class, my time should be my own?

except for a seemingly never ending list of errands that puts me behind the wheel of the car.

Of course, this may be preferable to sorting and organizing the contents of the garage

 

after more than a year

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

of not exercising, doing much of anything physical, I have really run out of excuses.

BC = Before Covid in the 2011eg2018 time frame I spent probably more than a fair amount of time on various cruise ships. It was relatively easy to get up in the morning and be in the fitness center when it opened. Most of the rest of the passengers seemed to be completely on vacation (re: eating, drinking, and lying around in various deck chairs) so that it wasn’t hard to get 30-60 minutes of treadmill time.

All of that stopped in fall 2018 when I, perhaps foolishly – perhaps not, decided to take advantage of Uncle Sam’s willingness to pay for further education. Hence the Master’s Program because – why not? Tuition and books were paid, SF netted a more than reasonable subsistence allowance and I turned to attempting to exercise my brain rather than my legs.

[Queue George becoming ill partway through that year followed by more hospital trips followed by COVID]

The end result is that I found, while I actually prefer attending educational material via zoom, that mode doesn’t work for me when it comes to exercise classes.  When the center where I had been sporadically taking classes reopened last month, as I said, I really ran out of excuses.

I admit, while waiting for class to start this morning, that I am not thrilled at how much stamina, flexibility, and strength I have lost. As I look across the studio at the mirrored wall, my reflection falls on one of the seams. It is just a bit cracked…..

Say What?

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As anyone who lives in the US knows, today is the 4th of July, Independence Day. It is also a week out from when I was going to be heading with a number of friends on a seven day journey around the western Caribbean. The trip had originally been planned for last year, but we all know what happened to those plans.

This morning the following appears in my email in-box:

Thank you for choosing Norwegian Cruise Line. Your sail date is quickly approaching and your online check in is now open. To expedite your time at the pier and select your embarkation time, we urge all guests to complete their online check in to provide the necessary documentation required to board the ship.

 

I just stare. I am having trouble believing that any cruise line would not have fixed their automatic email reminder system by now. In exactly WHICH universe am I am able to take a cruise in a week. A cruise for which I received a cancellation notice, a credit on my account, and several apology letters.

Now, I have been sailing NCL for years and never before had any reason to doubt their dedication, organizational, or safety abilities. But this email simply should not have happened.

NCL has an on-line chat. I checked the box. Sure enough, the person who answered (and I really don’t think it was a bot) replied that she had already received a number of inquiries this morning and the IT people were working on the problem. Apologies and all of that.

On the world weather front – it is cool and overcast here. The Pacific Northwest finally has had the hot air inversion breakup and temperatures drop back down to normal for the area. (Trust me, you do not want temps of 40-48*C in an area which normally runs 30*C in the summer. Not when people lack climate control in their homes). Much of a world away, Edinburg had a major storm today with flash flooding. Beverly sent me a couple of local news links. Trust the Brits to understate – just warning people to be careful. With streets knee deep in water? Seriously, just tell everyone to stay home unless it is an emergency..

Anyway, I am not going anywhere. Absolutely no interest in crowding on to public transportation or into a baseball park. I will watch from the comfort of a nice stitching chair and note the increased risk of disease transmission.

Slept till noon

Holly Doyne Posted on by 1

Or a bit later. Or earlier. I am rather foggy on the details.

It was mid-day when I surfaced enough to contemplate getting out of bed.

Since there were packages which had arrived during my week absence – there was an excellent reason for giving up on sleep for the moment. That alertness didn’t last. I admired the books which had arrived from BookOutlet, some floss from Forbidden Fiber and a puzzle.d

After attempting to be coherent – I gave it up as a bad idea and headed back to sleep figuring that I am still down about 20 hours…

 

Where do I even start

Holly Doyne Posted on by 1

to adequate recount this day of insanity?

Do I start with the train station in Cincinnati?

One of the wall murals

 

with a closer look ( click on it for a better view)

which is why I think it is WPA

(but actually the construction started in 1927 according to Wiki – the history is interesting – you might just want to follow this link...

My misfortune and challenges continued – that train that was due to take me to Chicago, departing at 0127? It didn’t arrive till 0337…. which meant that I was staggering with exhaustion before I finally crawled into my compartment and attempted a bit of sleep.

I had sent my alarm for 0900 just so that I could have some breakfast before exiting the train. Breakfast is included, so why not? That 0900 breakfast was not an hour before arrival. We were now almost three hours late. Considering the run from Cincinnati to Chicago is supposed to be under 10 hours, this doesn’t exactly bode well. And, for those of you in Europe – passenger trains in the US (and Canada) don’t own the tracks, they lease time from the freight rail companies who own, control, and repair the tracks. You see the problem? Not to put too fine a point on it, but if CSX has a choice between delaying their own freight runs or inconveniencing Amtrak – the choice is pretty obvious, now isn’t it?

Any – it was after 1300 when we arrived in Chicago. The track portion of the train station is below street level and one of the most confusing architectural constructions I have ever had the misfortune of navigating. The signage was almost non-existent The concourses were packed with people (many of whom seem to think that a mask over their mouth or down around their chin is both protective and compliant – but that is a different soap box). It took me almost 45 minutes to navigate my way out of that maze to street level. I never did figure out how to find the track for the California Zepher. Train was due to depart at 1400…..

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was still fixed on O’Hare Airport. I had looked up the train route – the CTA Blue line goes there. Clinton Street was the nearest station. Guess what? That station doesn’t have elevators – and me with my suitcase and backpack…..

It was after I was on the Blue line that the little light finally went off in my head. The Blue line goes to O’Hare. O’Hare is not the same as Midway. When I double checked my reservation this morning – the three letter airport designation was MDW … not ORD…. Ok – I need to be on the Orange Line. Change at Clark/Lake coming up. Elevators!! YES!!!

An almost empty car to the end of the Orange Line, I made the hike to the terminal (it is indoors and I was grateful for the air conditioning. Not that hot, but the humidity….) In recent years, most airlines will not allow you to drop off luggage earlier than 4 hours prior to the flight. It is now 1500 and my flight is scheduled at 2150. But there is an earlier flight and the change fee is not that great. I consider it. The USO is on Concourse C which means I can’t get there without going through security (who won’t let me in this many hours early and besides – I have to check a bag because I have scissors…)

Clutching my boarding pass for the earlier flight, I suffer through TSA. It isn’t TSA. It is all the people who can’t seem to understand that they are included in the “Take off shoes, belts, empty your pockets, no drinks, and anything electronic larger than a cell phone needs to be taken out of bags” Today’s Can’t Follow Directions award was won by a young person sent back SEVEN times….

I find the USO and the very nice Mary who staffs it every Monday. It is at this point I look at my boarding pass. States I purchased it at 1500… and the flight boards at 1730. Ok, fine. I check the airport App which tells me that the flight leaves in 20 minutes… WHAT??? I dash back out, down to B1 – the flight isn’t on the B1 board – instead it is stating Denver. Just then I hear the gate announcement “For those of you waiting for the Oakland Flight, the plane hasn’t left Flint Michigan yet. We are expecting a 1730 boarding for your flight. We are sorry for the delay…”

Ok, back to the USO where I charge my phone, have a sandwich, tuck some money in the donation box, and relax for a while. This USO is tiny: one table with three chairs, a couch with matching chair, a bookcase, two recliners tucked in a back corner, coffee maker, microwave, and an double doored industrial fridge. Keeping an eye on my flight – the airport keeps saying that it left at 1530 – the Southwest App lists it at delayed, with a new gate of B19. Why not walk a little further? It is not like I am tired or anything.

After suffering through the delay and the protracted boarding (this is a full flight) I am finally on board. Tucked in a window seat near the back, I slid my backpack in the overhead and my carry bag under the seat in front of me. The lovely woman, about my age, who takes the middle seat is from Hayward. She and her husband were returning from visiting his 95 year old mother who lives near Chicago. We talk Bay Area. I get treated to some incredible garden photos, she “appreciates” our battles with the deer.

Then we get the announcement. Due to the outside temperatures and humidity (and the short runway) our flight is 4000# too heavy to be able to safely take off. [queue groans…]. Wait while they try to figure out options…

(the obvious -cargo to be off-loaded? No – there isn’t any on this flight. What they don’t say but I have figured out is that there is only one later flight. That flight is full, so offering to move people to the later flight just isn’t an option. Offering people money/coupons to travel on another day isn’t going to net them the 20 or so that have to be off-loaded before we can safely take off…)

The final option? Different aircraft… So, with much grumbling everyone troops off the plane and heads to B21, our new gate. That airplane arrives and off loads its passengers. And off loads passengers, and …. you get the idea. I think the cabin attendants finally went on board and hauled the last few stragglers off the flight.

We line up again, board again. I wind up in almost the exact place in the plane, this time seated with the woman right behind me in the boarding order. Our middles seat? The husband of the lovely lady with the garden pictures. It is after 2000 before everyone is finally settled  on the plane. (Note, this is still the 1530 flight). The quiet little chant in my head is reminding me that I will still be home sooner than if I had stayed on Amtrak. And it still was cheaper than the $1200/upgrade that it would have cost on Amtrak to get out of the coach seat….

Four hour flight to California, minus two hours of time zone change. I am totally and completely wiped. My headphones are in my backpack, I can’t concentrate on reading. Stitching is so not an option. After much maneuvering post landing, we taxi to the very last gate on the terminal. Of course. (Did I mention the poor unhappy baby two rows behind me? Accompanied by mom and sibling? Two more siblings + dad were in the row behind me. – queue seat kicking…)

George, ignoring my crankiness, just helped me out of the airport and into the car. It was just shy of midnight.

If I had stayed with the later flight, I wouldn’t have landed till just short of 0200…..

Not on time

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

Well, after a lovely day spent stitching and chatting with new friends, I caught a Lyft to the Cincinnati Train station shortly after the stitching room closed at 2200.  Arriving to find that the station now has limited opening hours. Like 0000-0400.

It shares a lovely and interesting building with the City historical archives, a museum, a cinemax, etc. Travel today apparently no longer requires that this purpose built building (I am think WPA construction) be solely dedicated to the two passenger trains that stop here most days.

Oh, and instead of leaving right around 0130 my train is running ~ 2 hrs late..

Unbelievable

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or is that not believeable? Or simply, no freaking way?

I hadn’t realized how much of a SF/Seattle girl I had become. I start most days with a latté from Peet’s. Or Starbuck as a fall back. My neighborhood also has the Caffeinated Cat so you see – choices….

Well, here I am in Sharonville, Ohio which is part of the Cincinnati metro area. There are chain hotels everywhere. There is not a coffee shop in sight. Not one. Not saying there is a lack of fast food or food chains (Dale Evans, Waffle House, Cracker Barrel, Subway) within a block of my particular hotel. And I am not saying that my hotel is missing an urn of decent coffee. Just that, hello? Someone should have fancy coffee.

In the last couple of days, I have ridden the loop both ways (Convention Center, Keepsakes Shop, La Quinta) which is perhaps 6-8 km in total distance.  And there  has NEVER been a coffee shop in sight.

[insert a not so silent screen here]

One of the women arrived at the meeting room this morning with McD’s coffee offering. She had had to detour a bit. She said they had lattes as well as Chai, but that sweet tea seemed to be the favorite. Now, Ohio is solidly mid-West as far as I know. So why the Southern tea thing?

Anyway – early afternoon a woman wandered in with a Starbucks coffee. I wasn’t the only one who made a bee line over to inquire WHERE she had found it. Answer – in the lobby of the hotel across the street. Provided, of course that you walked down the drive, around a corner and followed what she expressed as mini-signs to the lobby.

By this time it is later afternoon. I want to sleep tonight. But a latté is in my morning plans. Along with getting organized, checking out, catching the Stitchy Bus with my gear and hanging out at the convention center till early evening when I will head back to the train station.

 

Just Stitching

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Other than a quick foray into the “local” needlework shop, I mostly spent the day stitching. After all, that is why I came on this weekend anyway.

I finished Garden Dreaming – designed by Barbara Ana. Stitched on 18ct Sunshine Aida by Vintage Needle Arts on Etsy, with the called for DMC. It was a three part SAL (1 May, 15 May, 1 June). I actually didn’t have more than fifty or so stitches, it was a matter of replacing a couple of thread colors lost somewhere on Amtrak. The actual size is something like 10 x 14 cm,

Garden Dreams

 

Since that covered only part of the day – I finished the interesting portion of Part 4, of Owl Forest’s Alice in Wonderland SAL. I still have borders to add when ever I am so inclined.  Stitched on ordinary 16 ct white Aida. You can. see a bit of the White Rabbit above Alice from Part 3. Rather than fancy floss, I am just using the DMC supplied conversion

Owl Forest Alice SAL – Part 4

 

And, since I had picked up those missing threads – I was able to finish Part 1 – of Up in the Air – also by Barbara Ana

Up in the Air – Part 1

and the last project which actually took up most of my time, I will share once completed. I might head for the late night stitching, after all – who needs sleep….

Cicadas

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They are noisy, they are ugly, they fly in your face. They are everywhere. (Wiki Article). It is Anywimpossible to avoid articles in the US news. Cheap reporting as I am told as there are science types, amateurs, and everyone and their dog on the street who are willing to pontificate this particular episode (every 17 years? I was outside the US and spared the last experience).

When I think back, I am sure that there was at least one episode in childhood where they magically appeared, were stomped on and tracked into the house. But, as overall memories of that last period in time – not particularly outstanding. I am sure that the birds enjoyed the feast.

Anyway – when most of us think about a retreat, we think of woods. Quiet peaceful surroundings where you can relax and contemplate whatever. Please, wipe that completely out of your imagination. Instead – substitute a couple hundred cross-stitchers (mostly women) sitting in groups of five around tables; stitching and chatting. Frankly, I think the noise level exceeded the cicadas….

But it most certainly is a nice time. I am having a chance to meet various people with whom I have corresponded over the last year as well as being able to wander around and see every one’s stitching. I will spare you my rant about those who stitch reproduction samplers. (ok, just a small bit of rant – samplers were stitched by young women as their only chance to learn both stitching and a minimum of literacy – thus enabling them to stitch what were effectively laundry markings into clothing and linens…. Why on earth would I want to stitch – an alphabet, an ugly house, a tree, and maybe a flower port? Really. They all look alike because they are) [Off soap box]

I am headed to sleep before 2200 – needing to catch up from the train trip (and time zone change. Three hours isn’t that much, except that it is….)

For those of you who might be interested – this is the current status of COVID in the eastern portion of the US. It is why, inspite of the fact that just about everyone attending is immunized, mask wearing makes sense. (see the red marks in Ohio?)

US current COVID Map

And, since it is “so far” between my hotel and the Convention Center – transportation is being provided. This horrible distance is about a mile. Yep. (not even 2km in real money). But then I am relatively fit compared to a lot of the other people attending. Enough said on that.

Our transportation

 

 

 

No boats involved

Holly Doyne Posted on by

Back in the day (and by this I mean the mid-late 90s) I wrote a rather long description of a trip from the Balkans back to Würzburg entitled “But we didn’t take a boat.” That particular journey involved military vehicles, a helicopter, more military vehicles, a C-12, a bus, a train, and an ambulance if I my memory serves me correctly.

My current journey also skips the boat and “only” involves our POV, a train, a bus, another train + Lyft to get me from our home in Berkeley to La Quinta in Sharonville OH (think Cincinnati).

This tale starts 6 June and I will release the last several days sections later, what you need now is shorten versions plus the ending so that you know that I arrived safe and sound.

Sunday: George dropped me off at the Emeryville AMTRAK station so that I could catch the east bound #6 California Zephyr. Not being foolish, I splurged on my very own little roommate which is adequate for one and insanely cramped if you are two or more jammed into this closet. And that was Sunday.

Monday was a lovely train ride through the Rockies, with a few significant “unscheduled” delays in Colorado due to track maintenance. The upshot was that we were headed into my second night on the train about five hours behind schedule (what is important to note here is that there is less that four hours between my trains in Chicago).

Tuesday morning we woke bright and clear after an extremely bumpy night to find out we were now less than 2 hours behind. This catch up didn’t last as there were delays at the morning and early afternoon turn-over of conducting and engineering staff. The upshot of all of this was that Amtrak acknowledged that we were never going to make our connection in Chicago.

Accordingly, all of us headed for three different connections in Chicago were off-loaded in Galesburg (IL). After two more trains arrived all of us were loaded on a charter bus which dropped off six in Bloomington (IN) and another dozen in Champaign-Urban (IL) to grab their connections. As we rolled back on the interstate, I am thinking – gee – we will make our connection in Indianapolis (also IN) in plenty of time, not withstanding a five hour bus trip.

I had forgotten that the IL-IN border also involves a switch from Central->Eastern time zones. Instead of having over an hour to be organized, we arrived at 2338 for a 2349 connection. That should have been plenty of time. However, there were a few on the bus who hadn’t figured out that there was a time zone change and were taking their sweet time about getting off.

I managed, along with the other three in the back of the bus to impress on the turtles that they could move, speed up or get out of the way. Smart people grabbed their gear and headed Ito the station. Which, as it turns out is a level below the tracks…. Following my new best friends who knew where to locate the elevator, we managed sardines in the contraption and held our breaths till we piled out one level up.

By dint of looking up and down the platform, I found a car with conductor standing outside it. Turns out it was even my car. Climbed in, ricocheted down the hall and collapsed into my small roomette, thinking all the while that my original alternative of staying on the train to Chicago, transferring to O’Hare and flying to Cincinnati would have me landed prior to midnight.

I was one of five getting off in Cincinnati and found this time it was stairs and elevator up (to the main station). where there was absolutely no one And I mean no one of whom to ask directions. Neither did any of the cab companies answer the phone. Ok – Lyft it is which is how I met a lovely young 30s guy named Kevin who entertained me with circaidas and local information on the drive to the hotel.

I crashed right after 0400 and just woke up. Food sounds good and coffee great along with early to bed….

It is hard to be enthused

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

writing every day when it seems that we are enmeshed in Ground Hog’s Day.

Yes, I know that I have frequently, often, etc. as well as loudly made this complaint before – but it is still holding. When I first started daily notes as an email list all those many years ago – there was reason to write. And different things happening every day. 

Now, it is the same family (well – plus Lev), the same activities, the same locations. Really, not much to say and a limited ability to explain the ordinary in terms that are interesting to me, much less anyone else. 

Ah, well. And to reassure you. This is not depression – this is just total and complete boredom with being stuck in Berkeley…..