Well, it’s that time of the year again — the time of year where I start to want to have people come over.

Which means it’s also time to clean the Burrow.

Rudi and I are not minimalist people. We enjoy bulky hobbies — music, books, yarn, and bicycles. Unfortunately, we do not live in a clutter-friendly home. We live in a home suited to a single person with small hobbies — painting miniatures, perhaps, or dollhouse embroidery.

Or, perhaps, we live in a home suited to Type A personalities who do a good job of tidying up after themselves in a quick fashion.

Us? We tidy up in emergency situations — flooding, bug infestations, impending visits…

But it’s time to pull out the paper shredder and deal with the junk mail situation. I think it’s possible we could be buried alive otherwise, leaving three hungry cats to alert passersby that we’re under a huge pile of campaign announcements and charity requests.

It’s time to locate our quarters and do some laundry. I’m not ready yet to switch away from the summer wardrobe (this is D.C., after all, where January 1st reached 75 degrees), but it would be good to get it cleaned so that I can put it away for the two-week period it won’t be needed.

Rudi already started the cleaning by emptying the fridge of unmentionables. I need to do my part by washing the containers. I think they may have soaked long enough now to remove unpleasant odors.

It’s time to unpack from Utah and find places for all the … stuff … that came home with us from Salt Lake.

And it’s time to look hard at what we have lying around and see what we can do without. Do you think GoodWill picks up?

What? Three more beautiful things from the last week? Yep! Just too many to fit into one post!

1. Today was my best friend Karen’s birthday. When I called to sing to her in an off-key sort of way (which, as a musical person, she tolerated exceptionally well). While we were talking, her fiancé presented her with her birthday present and she burst out into very merry laughter. It was such a delight to hear!

2. Cocoa Rose, the puppy (maybe a lab-retriever mix?) who lives at the corner, is now five months old. I saw her romping in the yard on my walk to the Metro the other morning and she has grown tremendously since she arrived in the neighborhood. She is still a puppy despite her large size and she races from one side of the yard to the other playing with a small ball all by herself.

3. While we were flying to Salt Lake last week, we stopped in Minneapolis. As the airplane was descending, we got a gorgeous view of the setting sun. Pinks and oranges and blues and greys all combined to bathe the city in a vibrantly rosy hue.

Three beautiful things from the last week:

1. There is nothing better than coming home from a trip. Walking in the door and being met by three cats who absolutely adore you is incomparable. They want nothing more than to sit on you to prevent you from ever leaving again (unless it’s to buy them some more cat food, of course).

2. The Mets have been playing remarkably well this year. Right now they have the best record in baseball and last night they became the first team to reach 90 wins for the season. It used to be that I’d go places wearing my Mets cap and people would greet me with sympathetic looks. This year, I’m greeted with, “How about those Mets?” Even in Salt Lake! It’s a nice feeling to be at the top for once.

3. Washington, D.C., is a Democratic city. 74% of registered voters are signed up as Democrats. We’re so Democratic, it’s a law that the City Council has to have two members of a “non-majority” party just so that it’s fair. So when the primary rolls around, essentially you’re electing the person who is going to assume power. This year we had two major positions open up — mayor and city council chairperson. Adrian Fenty, who is only a few years older than I, won the Democratic nod for mayor. He has a vision for where the city should go from here that many people think is exciting. And Vince Gray, formerly the executive director of Covenant House, won the primary for council chair, offering hope that the next iteration of the council will consider ways to attract businesses and to provide services to low-income families simultaneously. I didn’t vote for either of the two winners, but I am excited that they bring fresh blood and enthusiasm to their positions. May they help to keep D.C. a nice place to live.

Rudi and I just returned from a fabulous date to the 1789 Restaurant in Georgetown. I am stuffed. I may never eat again. Saying that pretty much guarantees I’ll be starving in the morning.

The meal started with some tasty bread.

Rudi opted for fish for both his first and main courses. The first course wasn’t cooked. Rudi informs me this was both intentional and delicious. I took his word for it.

I ordered a delicious tomato salad for my first course — huge slices of yellow and red tomatos with some basil strips (okay, Suzanne, you’re right; it would really suck to be allergic to basil) and ricotta cheese and balsamic vinegar. It was just the perfect blend of salty and sweet.

For my main course, I supped on the vegetable tasting menu. Let me tell you, when people think, “You’re a vegetarian; aren’t you hungry all the time?” they’re dead wrong. My meal literally arrived on a platter and took twice as long to eat as Rudi’s. It included green beans marinated in balsamic vinegar (my least favorite part of the meal), an espresso-sized cup of tomato-squash-ginger soup, grilled kernals of corn, creamed spinach, chanterelle mushrooms, fried potato wedges, tomato and spinach, mashed potato, and a mushroom roll. I honestly thought I might explode when I finished.

But did I stop there? Oh no. There was still dessert and tea to come.

Rudi had a cheesecakey tarte. It was okay, but I opted for the peach galette with bergamot ice cream. Divine. Would have been better if I hadn’t, by that point, been wishing I’d worn a skirt with an elastic waist band.

We walked back up to Georgetown to collect Rudi’s bike back at his office and then biked home as the clock ticked its way down to midnight.

(It was a lovely anniversaryish dinner, dear. Thanks for taking me out — and for being a wonderful part of my life for 11 years.)

It occured to me a few weeks ago that knitting is good training for life, if only I would apply the lessons I learn on the needles to the real world:

1. New things are neither as hard nor as scary as I think they’re going to be. Turning a heel intimidated me tremendously, as do things like sending in resumes for interesting sounding jobs. Turning a heel turns out to be remarkably simple, so why shouldn’t writing a cover letter be similarly so? (Picking up gusset stitches on the other hand may always remain hard — or, at least, odious…)
2. On the other hand, you shouldn’t attempt the unfamiliar (be it a cast-on that will affect your whole bloody project, microeconomics, or how to use Excel’s formulas) when you are already tired and cranky and ought to have been in bed a while ago. Hint: When your partner wishes you good luck and heads to bed is the point at which you should stop learning new skills for the night.
3. Little stuff takes the most time. I never think weaving in ends should take very long but it regularly takes me three to four times how long I believe it will. The same goes for those “last few boxes” when packing up for a move.
4. New projects should be approached as adventures. Knitters notoriously love to start new projects. The act of combining a pattern and yarn is deliciously addictive. Joining a group (like a knitting group or a volleyball team) ought to be approached with a similarly adventurous spirit.
5. Projects that don’t go as planned can be adapted into something wholly my own. For instance, I once neglected to realize that patterns are altered when you knit in the round and you have to approach it that way from the start. I didn’t, and as long as I continued on as if I’d intended for it to look the way it came out, no one was going to be any the wiser. This is somewhat similar to the “Whistle a Happy Tune” song from The King and I. You will make mistakes, but you can minimize how many people know about them by trying to remain open to new options. New trends have to start someplace, right?
6. Try to strike a balance between doing for yourself and doing for others. Never knitting for yourself will make you sad. Never putting yourself first in life will make you equally frustrated. Always focusing on yourself loses you the wonderful feeling of giving of yourself to someone who loves or needs you.
7. Don’t waste your time on people who won’t appreciate your talents. Don’t knit a hat for the friend who hates hats (or wool or whatever). Similarly don’t spend days arguing with someone whose mind is made up on a subject that you feel passionately or strongly about. (Alternately, you can surround yourself only with those who will fully appreciate you and your quirky self (although there is then the potential for ego overdevelopment).)
8. It might seem like you’re just going around in circles, but usually you are making progress. It’s just that you’re too close to notice it. Step away from the situation (or your knitting) for a little while and come back to it later. You’ll be surprised by how far you’ve actually come and how much less you still have to do to accomplish your goal.
9. Look for patterns. On its own a yarnover is just a hole. Combined with a decrease and repeated regularly, it’s lace. On its own, a single response to a situation is unique. Looked at in the context of similar situations, though, you discover how you cope (for better or for worse) with life. Life is in the details, sometimes.
10. Things that totally don’t work out or that I hate can (and possibly should) be scrapped. Life is too short to live with a garment or a situation I don’t like.

I promise I haven’t forgotten you.

I’m home from Utah. It was an exhausting trip and I can’t tell you how excited I was to exhaustedly dump my stuff on the living room couch late this afternoon.

I promise I will tell you about the trip — about the Yarn Harlot, about the new additions to the stash, about getting up at 4 a.m. Okay, maybe I’ll just gloss over that 4 a.m. stuff.

Please be patient just a bit longer. I’ll share the details once I’m able to put together a coherent post — probably sometime after the polls close in D.C.’s primary tomorrow.