Oh the Craziness

Tuesday was quite the day. As a sock aficionado, at least I like to think so, I have been eagerly anticipating the release of the registrations for an upcoming event that the world has yet to see the likes of; the Sock Summit. In my eager anticipation, I planned my day around being home to sit at the computers for the next hour in attempts to score the classes that I purposely sought out to further an ideal dream. That was not what occurred. In the least.

To say that many of the muggles have no concept what a force knitters can be is an understated of a magnitude that many knitters themselves fail to recognize. For we sit in our wonderful chairs, knitting happily away never in our little worlds realizing just how many of us there are. More than not are just lurkers on this wild ride we call the web. Many never have experienced a blog or social network site like facebook, myspace, or even Ravelry, (which is a shame because it is a specific social network of fiber lovers.) 

Within one minute of opening the registration flood gates, knitters crashed the server. It took what should have been a fast, simple, easy method to get in and get out, let the next in line have a turn process into an ordeal that has left the organizers reeling. 

I experienced the whole gauntlet of emotions yesterday. Frustration, anger, disappointment, excitement, anticipation, eagerness, joy, sorrow, depression, happiness, glee, contentedness, satisfaction, gratification, I could go on but won't. 

I cursed my computer. I cursed the knitting fates. I cursed ancient technology. I even got mad at the IT people for not believing the organizers when they tried to tell them the servers might not be big enough. (HA! Now do you believe?) I posted a comment saying I was disappointed like the rest of the world with the frustrations of the computers we have come to rely so heavily on. But, to get mad at the people who have worked so hard on making this dream a reality? What gives?

How can people behave so irrationally over something that is meant to be so benign? The hate post that have occurred is really quite shameful. Have we really become so isolated in our fictive states behind monitors that we have lost all decorum in relationships? In the knitting world it appears so. 

So, in this long winded opinionated post, I say THANK YOU! ST-1 and ST-2 for all you have done to make Sock Summit a success. You have accomplished so much in such a short amount of time with such a fantastic selection of unbelievable teachers, vendors, and avenues. Well done!! Chocolate bars for everyone.

Where to begin

I hope that your holiday weekend was well received. Ours was a much needed rest. Though it began with a moment that I am sure no one in the family will soon forget. As a parent, it is always a difficult event when a child has come to the point when one of those 'life experiences' must be learned. Our weekend began with one of them. 

It forced me to recount a time in my own life when I learned that very lesson. I must confess that I did not handle it with as much grace as I had hoped when as a child I vowed I would one day extend to my own, but luckily, recovery from such a faux pas was not as horrendous as my own experience. The relationships are slowly being restored and growth has been spotted. Not just in the child that experienced the trauma but in the others as well. In myself. In my other half. And in how we are all relating to each other.

'Why must these things happen?'

 It is THE Question of all the ages. Each one of us struggles with this very postulation. Just as a caterpillar must struggle out of their chrysalis, we too must struggle. Struggle to earn experience. Struggle to develop discipline. Struggle to gain maturity. Struggle to become the beautiful free person that God intends for us to be. 

I wanted to be that chrysalis for my child, that protective resting place, enveloping them in their time of growth, when that occurred. Instead, I was forced to watch them from the sidelines as they struggled out of the one they were already in.  

As the weekend is officially over, I can find in hindsight that in reality it was more traumatic for me than for any one of them. For yes, a horrible, but anticipated, thing happened. Though much worse, I watch transfixed as each one of my children matured in front of my eyes.

And that, my friends, is the saddest thing to have to see.