TGIF. Started the week with a great New Year's party at friends' house in downtown DC. Took my knitting and sat and knit all evening, occassionally getting up to dance to various hits of the 70's and 80's (the big bonus was that the hostess, a woman from Iran, had The Very Best of Country Gold CD, so we got to listen to Donna Fargo belt out "The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA").
Went home, woke up with a slightly sore throat, and spent New Years catching up on reruns of the new Battleship Gallactica with a fire in the fire place. By Tuesday though, I had NO VOICE. Not just a scratchy, deep, Lauren Bacall, sultry sort of no voice, but really NO voice. Then, I opened up the kiln and what to my wandering eyes should appear but some strange and unwanted (read: ugly) variation on a trusted glaze that I had used dozens of times - for a HUGE order that was due mid-December (I won't go into the kiln disaster and the successful and very butch experience of rewiring the whole d**m thing that made the order late in the first place).
So Wednesday, still with no voice, I drove out to the burbs to the clay supply store to pick up a commercial clear glaze (ack) and then mixed up a simple low fire clear glaze in my shed just to be on the safe side. throw the glaze on a couple of pots and stuck them in the kiln to test fire.
Yesterday took a turn for the better - my voice began to return, and when I opened the kiln - both glazes seem to have worked (now to fire the rest of the 25 bowls...).
Through all of this my knitting kept me sane. You don't need to speak when you're knitting socks! I also came across a really great book - Perri Klass's book called "Two Sweaters for my Father." Anyone else read it? She's an MD who knits and writes about knitting. Good read.
Tonight the Best Beloved is in the kitchen cooking garlicky chicken soup and I'm sitting on the sofa with sock #2 ready to go. I'm still congested, so I plan on spending my Friday evening right here, being a couch potato, knitting.