Beyond Judgey, The Last Post of 3


I was explaining to a friend about my “judgey” series of blog posts.  I told her I’d been ruminating for weeks on this topic, usually as I ride my bike around, and had been making notes on how I wanted to approach the issue, isolate the problem and propose a solution.

It struck me as I was explaining this to her that my bike was–for me–one solution to my judginess (self and otherwise)

When I ride my bike I feel I’m at my best.  I’m strong, I’m happy, and mentally I find myself open minded and kind hearted.

I tend not to judge myself terribly harshly (aside from when I hit a really hard hill – and even then I just hop off the bike and walk it up) and this is probably why I enjoy my bike so much.

Age may have a bit to do with it, too.
I think it’s true that as we get older
we tend to see life for what it’s worth
(the good and the bad) and realize that
any issue is more complex than a
youthful black-and-white
first glance may reveal.

Changing the judginess is a process of changing a mind set.  It’s a constant policing of my own internal thoughts.

When I find a harshly judging opinion crossing my mind I ask myself–kindly (after all, I’m trying not to be too hard on myself)–whether there’s a different way to look at this issue.  I’m not saying this is easy – it’s not.  But it is simple.

We instinctively know when we’re being too judgmental.  We can feel it, and it’s not the best feeling in the world.

The fact that a certain superiority springs
from judging does feel good
obviously complicates the issue.

When we judge we feel small, mean, and not our best selves.  So we try to walk away from those feeling as quickly as possible and slip immediately into the more delicious and longer-lasting feeling of superiority.

There Goes The Judge

What I’m proposing is that when you feel yourself putting together a judgmental thought about the guy in the car next to you, or the woman who bumped your cart in the market, or yourself when you catch a glimpse of your body in a plate glass window, hold onto that judgmental thought.

Really hold it for a moment.  Think about the thought itself.  Do you REALLY think that guy in the car is an “asshole?”  Or could it be that he just miscalculated the distance between cars?

Is that woman who bumped you really a “bitch?”  Or was she perhaps trying to avoid a clerk stocking beans on a lower shelf?

And are you really “ugly?”  Or are you just a little fat?  Do you just not conform to a conventional one-can’t-be-too-rich-or-too-thin mentality that relegates most of the population to unattractiveness?  Remember, fat does NOT equal ugly, it’s a description in the same way that tall, short, thin or bow-legged are descriptions.

Now, I’m not saying that the guy may not be a bit of a jerk when he changed lanes, the woman a little self-involved and not noticing the carts around her, or that you might not need to lose a few pounds.

But in and of themselves, these are not hanging offenses.  These are frailties – the kind every human carries and displays on a daily basis.

Beginning to cut slack to those around you, seeing their mistakes as human foibles (and viewing yourself in the same kind manner) is the first, simple step in quieting the judging voice in your head that may be holding you back from accomplishing all that you wish.

Moving Toward Acceptancefat bike sign

My bike is my safe, non-judging place, a lot of my joy in riding my bike springs from this.  The genesis of my “Ride, fat girl, ride” shirt was to own the description, but not the baggage that comes with it.  I made the shirt and wear it to OWN my weight, but also to show that my weight doesn’t OWN me.

Thom Hartmann is a writer and progressive commentator who has written many books. One that resonated with me was Walking Your Blues Away, which outlines a path for using physical exercise to conquer minor, daily depression.

Please know that I am NOT saying that all depression
can be handled with physical exercise.
I, myself, am a happy member of team fluoxitine.
But exercise can help your outlook amazingly!

In Thom’s book he writes about how the brain can be retrained using physical exercises, which I’ve used (both in walking and in bike riding) to very good effect.

One mental exercise I’ve developed for myself, which seems to work very well while riding my bike, is what I call the, “assume the best” game.

My mother used to say,
“Assume the best about someone’s motives.
If you assume the worst you’ll look like a bitch,
if you assume the best the worst you’ll look is a fool!”

I think about someone who I feel has been mean to me, done me wrong, wasn’t as thoughtful as I feel they should have been.  Sometimes the person I think about is me.  Then I try to assume the best about their circumstances.  What was it that made them short tempered?  Why were they brusque?  What might be going on in their life right now?

This isn’t a panacea–I still find myself pretty angry at some folks and carrying grudges which hurt no one but myself–but this exercise does help.

And, in the same way that all my bike riding hasn’t made me thin but has made me healthier, I find the mental exercise has made me a nicer–if not consistently kind–person.

And perhaps a little bit less judgy.

Happy New Year!

Today is the eve of Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, and the start of the period when we reflect on what we may have said or done that impacted others (and the world) in a negative way.

Ideally we identify these things, we atone, we ask forgiveness, we make amends and we move on.  Next week is Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

I like to think of it as the day when, if we’ve examined our past year and have addressed outstanding issues with folks we’ve affected, we are finally at peace with the world around us.  We stand in unity with the world.  We are one.

It’s the Day of At-one-ment.  I can just hear the Rabbi at our temple slapping his forehead at that…

I’m privately addressing the various activities that haven’t been my proudest moments this past year, trying to honestly assess how my actions may have impacted on others (even when I wasn’t aware of the impact!) and figuring how to take on the coming year so that I have fewer regrets.

I’d like to say, “Je ne regrette rien!”  However, being human, I do have regrets.

One thing I’m NOT regretting, though, is the delicious gluten free Apple/Honey/Pecan cake I’m baking up right now!  We’re having dinner with friends and we’re supposed to bring the dessert (and I think that jelly-fail-apple-syrup I made will be delicious on this cake, too!)

The recipe is below, and if you want to gluten it up just remove one of the eggs and substitute wheat flour for the gf baking mix.  Enjoy!

Apple Honey Bundt Cake

Original recipe from, adjusted for gluten free by Annie Modesitt

image from


  • 9” Bundt cake pan
  • Large mixing bowl
  • measuring cups & spoons
  • chopping tool for apples & nuts


  • ½ cup light brown sugar
  • ¾  cup vegetable oil
  • 3 eggs
  • ¾ cup honey
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 ½ cups gluten free baking mixture
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • ¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • ¼ teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
  • 3-4 apples – peeled, cored and finely chopped
  • ¾ cup chopped pecans


  • 3 tablespoons Ground almond flour
  • ¼ cup honey, warmed (extra)


  1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).
  2. Grease and coat a 9 inch Bundt pan with gluten free baking mix or ground almond flour (optional)
  3. In a large bowl, stir together the sugar and oil.
  4. Beat in the eggs until light,
  5. Stir in the honey and vanilla.
  6. Combine the dry ingredients & spices into the batter just until moistened.
  7. Fold in the apples and nuts.
  8. Bake for 50 to 65 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the crown comes out clean.
  9. Let cool for 10 to 15 minutes before inverting onto a plate and tapping out of the pan.
  10. Optional: Drizzle with warm honey before serving

Modeknit Minnesota Lakeside Retreat, Day 1

Dinner at Crazy Bee

Kathleen and I arrived on Friday afternoon and began preparing the two cabins (Crazy Bee & Drone) for the guests.

One by one they arrived, with London bringing up the rear with extra items from my house that I forgot to pack.  Thank you, London!

Kathleen has been outdoing herself with these amazing meals she’s fixing!

Last night a dinner of grilled sandwiches, then a lovely cold breakfast of bagels, cheeses, smoked salmon, yogurt, cereal and fruit.

Quiet Knitting in the Afternoon Sun

The colorwork class this morning was great – the class was hard working, engaged and asked very good questions.

We had a door-prize drawing for some of the many wonderful books London and I have received for review (I tend to get duplicates of some books) and we all are having such a wonderful time!

We broke for lunch, all of us marveling at the BEAUTIFUL weather that we’ve been graced with!  We are SO lucky – it’s absolutely amazing here!

A filling and delicious lunch of pulled pork, salad, fried apples, cole slaw and bagels / rolls was beautifully served by London and Heather, who have both been SO helpful in getting everyone settled and happy in their rooms.

I have great friends, I’m so lucky!

Lake Koronis at Sunrise

I couldn’t have put together a nicer group if I’d been able to hand pick folks!

This is a great group – I can’t wait for our afternoon class of Charted Entelac which is set to begin in – oh my – 9 minutes!  Better run!


Judgey Part II – Who Am I? Why Am I Here?

My first interaction with my husband was a letter he sent to me which opened, “Who am I? Why am I here?”

He was referencing James Stockdale who quoted that line in the Vice Presidential debates of 1992, but it’s not a bad question to ask ourselves every now and then.

We have different categories that we fit ourselves into, we switch it up every now and then, we settle into some identities and reject others.

When I was around 15 I had a revelation that we show different sides of our personalities to different people.  Therefore, when someone is considered to have “changed,” perhaps they’ve just shown a different side to their personality.  I was a deep thinker.

No one person is the same to everyone all the time.  We do different little dances with different friends and family members, we strive for consistency, but we don’t always achieve it.

I feel the best we can hope for is keeping a strand of “true” personality running through most of our relationships so that folks can count on us, retaining enough elasticity so we can be flexible when we need to.  Not unlike a nice strand of springy merino…

Some of the Family

My own identity is tied up with my work (designing, teaching and writing), my family, my convictions about being part of a community and – as I addressed in my last blog post – my body identity.

Each of us has a different recipe, a different mix of what makes us the person that the world sees, and that recipe changes as we grow (or shrink) through our lives.

The past few years I’ve been having a minor crisis of identityConfidence?  I’m not quite sure what, but there are days when my neurotic Junior High school self would have been a welcome relief to my own middle-age angst.

The reasons are so obvious that it hardly bears mentioning – and I’m certain that by mentioning them I’ll garner some snarky comments on some chat board somewhere – but they are twofold: Gerry’s illness and my own Fibromyalgia.

Tin Fish, I "work" here sometimes...

Working – designing – as fast as I can, it’s still pretty hard to earn a decent living.  Smarter designers than I augment their incomes with yarn lines, connections to major yarn and knitting tool companies and television hosting gigs.  I admire them for this, and I would by lying if I didn’t admit that I envy them, but I haven’t felt the right kind of energy to pursue this angle yet.  I’d love to, it just hasn’t been in the cards/stars/roll of the dice so far.

But I’m troubled by my envy, by my current lack of visibility, and I’d been trying to find a way to mentally work through this.  I think I stumbled onto it this weekend.

The Analogy Part

As I was riding my bike in the Minneapolis Bike Tour this past weekend I paced myself behind a pair of women who were going just about my speed.  I stayed a good half block behind them for a few miles, feeling like I was almost part of a group, but happy in my solitude.

The First Flat Fixed

Then I began flagging.  I couldn’t keep up, it was getting very hard.  I changed gears, pedaled harder, but off they went, disappearing ahead of me as I found myself grounding to a snail’s pace.  Bye, bye.  Write if you get work…

I was so intent on keeping up, on staying at the same speed, that I hadn’t noticed that at some point in a gravel-and-glass section of a side street I’d picked up something that had punctured my tube.  I had a flat tire.

This was especially frustrating as I’d had a flat at mile 7 of the ride, but that one happened just a few blocks from a pit stop and was fixed so quickly it almost felt as though it hadn’t happened.  I was told by several riders that it was flat-heavy ride this year.

It was raining pretty hard, I was cold and sore, I felt miserable and I ached all over.  I pulled out my cell phone to call Gerry and ask him to come and pick me up, but then I put it away.

I was about 20 miles into the ride and I just didn’t want to give up so easily.

So I walked, pushing my bike along the path and feeling the “Ride, Fat Girl, Ride” logo printed on the back of my shirt burning like a brand of shame and humiliation.

Thin, fast, fully-air-filled-tire riders shot past me, I stumbled on.  Oh, the humanity.  Oh, the humility!

As I hiked to the next pit stop where I hoped I’d be able to get a tire change, I realized that this section of the ride was like a metaphor of my current situation in life.

The Metaphor Part

I’d been shooting along pretty well, designing and writing (3 books in 2 years) and making appearances.  Then I got a flat – our family got a flat; Gerry got sick.

We put all of our efforts as a family into getting through it, and now we’ve found a different dynamic.  After his stem cell transplant in 2007 Gerry’s Multiple Myeloma has become something we try to think of as a chronic illness rather than terminal cancer.

Gratuitous Peek at a New Hat

Gerry has a lot of pain, he has to rest a lot and his activities are severely limited, but he’s here for all the important reasons (love, laughter, support)  He’s here for all the reasons I married him, and in all the ways that make him a great dad and wonderful person.

Continuing on, just as our family was finding a new groove, I got sick.  Not sick like Gerry, not life threatening, but definitely income and identity threatening.

Fibromyalgia certainly isn’t going to kill me, and I’m learning new strategies every day to deal with it, but it’s something I can’t ignore.  The energy it takes to keep track of my energy is wearying.  I find myself beating myself up constantly for not being able to get as much done as I used to 5 years ago (not helpful) and there are times I become rather depressed and allow myself to feel useless.

Which is not true.

But sometimes we let our minds go to dark places, I’m not alone in that.  Comparing myself to folks who are able to ride past me right now (with their fancy air-filled tires) isn’t helpful, but it’s human, and it’s understandable.

I’ve been guilty lately of judging myself very harshly based on things that are a bit out of my control.  I feel guilty that I do something I love so much (knit design) but which brings in precious little money and no insurance.

I’ve been applying – and interviewing – for several jobs locally but each long process has ended – as it has for so many folks these days – with a “Thanks, but no thanks – you were our #2 candidate, but we’re going in a different direction…”

And then I begin to feel worthless.

Which is also not true.

The slight relief I feel when I get turned down for a job is in direct proportion to how many fibro flare ups I’ve had that month.  There is a nagging fear that if I did snag a job, I’d be unable to do as well as I need to while trying to adhere to a schedule that may not take into account my body’s current oddnesses.  That’s one of the big benefits of designing/writing/teaching – I can generally do it at my own schedule, or gear up for a teaching weekend by getting a LOT of rest before and after.

The Wisdom Part

I want to take away some kind of gift, some wisdom, from this metaphor.  So I ride my bike like a maniac.  The energy it takes is a small investment for the energy + joy + pain relief I get back in return.

There have been online
mentions that I must be faking
the fibro if I’m able to bike so far,
I assure everyone that’s not true.
Spend a few days with me and you’ll
see how movement is rather difficult.

I try not to judge myself too harshly, I try to be smart and hard working and organized (organization is one way to circumvent energy loss) and I try to remind myself on a daily basis that self-love isn’t indulgent.

In the same way that as I walked my bike this past weekend, concentrating on keeping my body warm and stretched so I didn’t freeze up, I continue designing and writing and teaching.  Maybe not at the speed and level I did when I had a full tire, but I can’t let myself get cold.

If I let myself listen to the harsh, judgey voices I’ll definitely freeze up, slow down, maybe even sit in a sad heap on the curb in the rain and begin to melt away.  So I try to either ignore the judgey voices, reason with them or sing really loudly.

Rainy Pit Stop, With Extra Oranges!

I’m still working out a good strategy to get me to the next pit stop where I can, hopefully, get my flat fixed, have a gluten free snack and a drink of water and get back on the road.  That’s why it sometimes takes me a long time to blog, to get my newsletter out, or to get some designs worked up and written down.

But if you look for me, I’m there.  I’m strolling along the side of the road in the rain balancing my handlebars in one hand, a slice of orange in the other, singing.

The “Judgey” Thing

Judge not.

I’m not a practicing anything in terms of religious affiliation.  I attend our local Temple, we’re members and I’m relatively active, but I’m not Jewish.  I was raised Methodist, but there’s what whole ‘divinity’ thing that I wrestle with, so I’m not really a practicing Methodist.

I’m not religious, but I’m definitely not anti religion – there’s a great deal of good, of wisdom, that can be learned from faith practices around the world.

One of the best, one of my favorites – Judge Not.

Ironically, it’s one of the hardest for the mainstream religions
to adhere to themselves, but that’s for another blog post…

I want to talk about Judginess.

Specifically, judginess in terms of how we look at ourselves (today’s post), and how we look at our chosen recreational activities (knitting, crochet, biking, macrame, spoon juggling, whatever you do in the privacy of your home…  or in public – future blog post.)

We can be rather harsh when it comes to analyzing other folks work, and even more harsh when analyzing our own.  I’m one of the worst offenders, although I try to be honest and loving in my self criticism.

I remember hating my body SO severely in my youth, dieting like a  maniac until I was a size 10 (for about 15 minutes – remember, I’m six foot tall) and heard the unforgettable words spring forth from a new acquaintance, “Why, it’s obvious you’ve NEVER had a weight problem!”

At that moment I could have died and gone to heaven.  Literally, I could have died because I hadn’t eaten a solid meal in a few days.

However, life being what it is, my weight tends to go up and down, and – unlike smoking or gambling or almost any other vice – overeating shows like a neon sign and allows all who are inclined to judge very harshly the moment you come into view.

I am sometimes my worst critic, I understand the running commentary of self loathing that streams through the soul of most overweight folks, I know how hard it is to ignore/stop it and how necessary that is in order to effect any positive change.

But I also remember the day I stepped into the shower, hating the glimpse I caught of myself as I rushed past the mirror, but then came up short when I realized, “How can I hate my body so much if it gave me two wonderful kids?  How can I hate this body that allows me to walk and live and enjoy life?”

That realization didn’t make me an ounce thinner, but it did open a small door of self love that I try to pry open a bit wider every day.

Sometimes things happen that practically slam
the door shut, and I have to wedge some kind of
metaphysical shoe between the door and
the jamb to keep it from closing.

And it’s self love that allows me to do things like care about what I put in my mouth (less sugar, more fiber, no gluten, even when I’d KILL for a biscuit) and what I do with my body (ride my bike as much as I can, do yoga when I can’t.)

Love is not a pie, you can’t slice it up and divide the pieces.  Or, if it is a pie, it’s a magic pie that makes newer, bigger slices the minute you cut one and slip it on a plate for your Aunt Mable.  This is not my best analogy, I’ll work on it…

Self-love is the same, it spreads and grows the more you exercise it.  Self love allows you to fend off judginess that comes from outside.

Without self love, EVERY type of criticism feels like a slap.  Self-love separates the barb from the honest criticism (although it doesn’t necessarily make the criticism easier to hear!)

Me & Colbert, Mile 35, 1 to go!

Yesterday I finished a 36 mile bike ride.  I went slow, I took my time.  It was raining and cold for most of the ride, which are both things that exacerbate my fibromyalgia and make me ache all over like I have the flu.

I’ve certainly ridden faster, and the two flat tires I got during the ride didn’t help my speed, but I finished all 36 miles and I was very happy with my effort.

NOT dressing to advantage...

Until I looked at the photograph a very kind volunteer for the Minneapolis Bike Tour took of me at the finish line.  “That’s me?  I’m that fat?  Seriously?”

I didn’t FEEL that fat as I rode.  I felt like Lance Armstrong.  I felt like a thin, beautiful, French resistance fighter shouting, “Vive la France!” as I darted across the French countryside.

This is my own personal biking fantasy…

True, I wore my “Ride, fat girl, ride!” T-shirt, but – seriously?  I look like this?  Yes, yes I do.

This is the body of a woman who just rode 36 miles, who averages 6 miles a day, who eats pretty well (although I do like my chocolate) and who could probably eat better.

This is the body of a woman who has given birth twice, just turned 50, and is trying hard to be unashamed of herself.

And who is trying even harder not to judge herself too harshly.

Shaping Shawls

Anna Knitting

Anna Knitting

In the world of knitting books, there are books that are very instructional, books that are pretty, books with beautiful patterns and books that inspire.  Sometimes we get lucky and one book straddles several of these criteria.

Shaping Shawls by Anna Dalvi (available at Ravelry as a downloadable ebook, or at Cooperative Press in several formats) is a unique book that touches on all of the above categories.

Number Demystification

Blueberry Patch

Blueberry Patch Detail

Anna begins the book by laying out the basics of shawl design, examining the best-loved shawl lay-outs, and explaining how one can fill in the “canvas” (her great word) of the shawl shape with lovely repeating lace patterns.

She uses a few unique tools to explain the math, which is welcome because not everyone thinks in the same way.

My own brain doesn’t move in the same direction as Anna’s, but I can appreciate the clarity with which she presents her own method for comprehending and creating lace patterns. 

Margarita Leaves

Margarita Leaves

And isn’t that the whole reason we have libraries of knitting books?  We all think in different ways, we gravitate naturally to different authors, designers and teachers.

But by exposing ourselves to a different way of thinking, we can expand our own brains a bit, which is exactly what Anna’s book did for me!

Anna discusses the “delta” of a stitch manipulation – the final stitch count result broken down element by element in a row of a pattern.

Magic Lanterns

Magic Lanterns

I know from teaching how beautifully this will resonate with many who may have found shawls – and lace in general – a bit of a mystery.

Anna does a lovely job of de-mystifying what is happening in each row of a chart.

My only reservations with the delta / charts section were that I wished the actual symbols had been used in the explanation tables, and I sometimes found it confusing that non-shawl stitches were also included in the actual sample charts. 

This isn’t true for the actual pattern charts, which are great, but it gave me a moment of pause as I was working through the initial chart explanation section.

Creating the Canvas

Blueberry Patch

Blueberry Patch

Anna describes the basic how-and-why different shawls fall in different ways in a clear and concise manner.  She explains how placement of increases and direction of the knitting affect the shape and drape of a shawl.

These simple concepts aren’t hard to grasp, but they can be evasive if not laid out clearly.

Anna does this very well, as I was reading this section I could hear the gears turning in soon-to-be-shawl-knitting brains all over the knitting world.


Chandelier Shawl

Chandelier Shawl

One of the glories of this book are the beautiful patterns!  The shawls are photographed in rich, vibrant colors which absolutely glow against the subtle grey and black backgrounds.

Since this is an e-book, it’s very easy to access, to carry around, to refer to, and to UPDATE as the ubiquitous error rears it’s ugly head (always exactly 3 minutes after the book has gone on sale…)

Cooperative Press, which has published this collection (and–full disclosure–with whom I am affiliated) is a young, small company which is specializing in producing books with a very fresh and indie feel – the type of books the larger publishers may not take a chance on.

CP has done a very nice job of putting this lovely, informative collection of patterns and lace knitting/shawl making tips together in one package.

Next on Anna’s blog tour will be Jaala Spiro at Knitcircus!


Shaping Shawls by Anna Dalvi
109 Pages
ISBN 13: 978-0-9792017-6-9

(available at Ravelry
or at Cooperative Press
in several formats)

Photography © 2011, Kristen Caldwell Photography LLC
Photographic backdrops by Bad Sass Backdrops, Inc
Makeup artist: Elle Gemma for Spell Cosmetics
Models: Arabella Proffer, Elle Gemma, Maria Miranda, Michelle Muldrow

End of Summer, Teaching Season Opens (& Stitches?!)

We were able to get away for a 2-day escape up to Voyageur National Park over my birthday.  And, may I just say, I was OVERWHELMED with the lovely birthday wishes on my facebook page.  Thank you, everyone!

We took advantage of one of those Groupons earlier this year, and thus we had a pretty amazing mini-vacation for a bargain.

We stayed at the Northern Lights Resort, which was lovely.  My only complaint is that they begin mowing, clipping and blowing at SEVEN A.M. on Saturday with a vengeance, so don’t expect to sleep in or anything…

Below is a gallery of some of the highlights of our few days away, plus rubber ducks at the MN State fair and a brief outdoor shot of our indoor cat (he escaped, then sat on the fence and posed for a few minutes before capture…)

For me the absolute BEST part of the adventure were the ‘hydro-bikes’ (made in Minneapolis!) that were available at the resort!  I was able to get my bike ride in AND get out on the lake (although it took a lot more pedaling to go 10 feet than it takes to go 100 yds on a street bike)  It was a BLAST and it made me so happy!

We took one family water trip with Atticus in the canoe.  He jumped out.  He’s a swimming doggie, but Hannah was fearless in how quickly she jumped in and directed him over to my hydrobike where he rested until we got back to the dock.

We all switched places, we realized that what Atticus wanted was to be with me, so I rode in the canoe and paddled while Hannah took over the bike and we were all fine on the trip over to a mini-island for some fishing, and the trip back.

Fish – we caught none.  I’m sad about it, but not bereft.  I really wanted to get a walleye, or at least a bass, but no such luck.

Fall Work Start

I’m immersed in some designing, and I’m writing my first grant proposal.  More on that if / when I hear anything, but it’s certainly an experience to try to put my thoughts into “grant speak”  (B.S.-ing 101 was a class I’m afraid I did miserably in during grad school…)

I have some submission deadlines coming up quickly and a full slate of teaching engagements over the next few weeks

I have all of these dates up at my “upcoming engagements” page,  but perhaps the most unexpected news is that I’ve agreed to teach at Stitches West in February.

I’ve never taught at Stitches – the timing never worked out, and when I did apply I didn’t get accepted.  Once I read the rules involved in teaching at one of these events I got a little skittish and didn’t apply again.

But I’ve been asked by so many folks, “When will you teach at Stitches?” so when I was approached by Benjamin Levisay from XRX (I love making Facebook friends & meeting them in real life!) I realized that it would be unfair to judge without participating from a teaching point of view.

So for those of you Stitches attendees who’ve wanted to take a class with me, I’ll be teaching 3 in Santa Clara in late February!

Yay for warm weather teaching in the midst of MN Winter!