• The latest KnitPicks podcast (episode 31) does a wonderful review of both Cables 1 and Aran Sweater Design!
• Listen to my visit with Jenny and Nicole of Stash and Burn on their December 11 podcast! I talk a lot about swatching!
• Cables 1 got another wonderful review in David Reidy's podcast Sticks & String! It's about halfway through the September 23rd show.
• Cables 1 got a terrific review in the August 25 Lime & Violet podcast! Take a listen (it's in the last ten minutes of the show)!

February 29, 2008: Leap Day

I popped into Camas Creek Yarn the other day to drop off some books and patterns. I thought I'd only be there for a few minutes and it was more like an hour. Oh well—an hour in a yarn store is time well spent as far as I am concerned.

I took in the sock and scarf I made and asked the owner if she wanted to display them with the yarns I used to make them. I know that yarn sells better if there is a swatch or sample that knitters can look at and feel. And it's another opportunity to sell my patterns, if knitters decide they like the sample and would like to make one for themselves. (It's also an excuse to get that sock out of my house so I don't feel guilty about not making a second one.)

Camas Creek Yarn has a lot of potential, and the owner is a smart businesswoman. I am looking forward to seeing how things evolve. I love it that she's invited me to be a part of everything, and I want to support the store as much as I can. When I first moved to Kalispell, there were NO yarn stores at all. I don't ever want to go back to that!

Yesterday morning I did a spinning and knitting demo for the third grade at DD#2's school. I did this when both my girls were in third grade, and the kids just eat it up. It's also the only time I get to spin anymore. I have such a nice stash of fiber waiting to be turned into yarn. Perhaps when I retire from my knitting career, I'll have time to spin. Oh the irony.

I started two new projects for the Summer issue last night. I am having such fun with this issue—it will have quite a few small, quick projects (instant gratification designing and knitting for me), and several of the projects are unusual ones where I have given myself permission to do something a bit quirky. For example, I have a cable swatch knit from a skein of Classic Elite Sand (discontinued before I got to do a design, imagine that) which I've always thought would make a great cabled bathrobe. I found a nice substitute for the Sand at Camas Creek—stay tuned to see what I do with it. So far I am loving it.

Today is "work on the book day" which means it must be Friday. The Yarn Harlot's blog post today was so appropriate—like the Harlot, I cannot work on my books in small snatches of time here and there. I have to have a big block of time where I can sink in and not do anything else. She's been lucky enough to be sent to a cabin in the woods for a week. I have to be satisfied with my Friday book-writing time. I cleared my desk of all remaining paperwork yesterday so that I would not be tempted by other tasks.

February 26, 2008: Musical Knitting

Yesterday morning DD#1 and I boarded a bus for Missoula to attend the 26th annual Concert Band Festival sponsored by the University of Montana. It had snowed Sunday night, so the roads were—as the bus driver put it—"greasy." I had a small moment of unease when the bus driver informed me that she had just returned at midnight from driving the choir home from Vancouver, B.C., and had only gotten a few hours of sleep. But she turned out to be an excellent driver. We passed half a dozen accidents on the way down to Missoula, and it took us three hours instead of the usual two to get there. I was glad I had my knitting with me (I got most of the scarf done) because it kept my mind off how terrible the driving conditions were.

The kids played well, and except for one or two minor incidents, they behaved respectfully (unlike some of the other bands whose members talked and laughed during performances). By the time we boarded the buses to come home, the sun had come out and melted all the snow and the roads were clear.

This trip only had two chaperones, and the other mother and I discovered during the cours of the day that we grew up about 20 miles from each other in Ohio (she grew up in Parma). We had fun comparing notes about Cleveland on the drive home. It's a small world.

Maureen, I know it's hard to believe, but yes—there are knitters out there who think that what they are paying for when they buy a pattern is the paper and ink and nothing more. I've had a number of people tell me they think the digital version of the newsletter should cost less because they have to use their paper and their ink to print it. It all goes back to that cost-benefit thing I talked about in the last post. Subscribers think I am saving money now by not having to print as many hard copies. Actually, I'm not—the cost per individual hard copy actually has gone UP because I am not having the same volume printed. The cost to get the Winter issue printed was $1200. The cost for the Spring issue was $950, for half as many hard copies. That's just a fact of life of the printing industry—the more copies of something you have printed, the less per unit it costs. There also are costs to me in the form of software to manage the downloads and time spent doing tech support for those people who have problems downloading the digital file. I've run the numbers (many times!) and it's really a wash in terms of dollars and cents.

My mother owns a metal-stamping plant in Cleveland and she tells the story of a company coming to her and her business partner and saying, "We know how much steel costs and we've figured out how much it should cost you to make this part based on the price per pound of steel, so X dollars is all we're willing to pay you for this job." Well, X dollars covered the cost of the material but not much else, so my mother's company wouldn't have made much of a profit. They didn't take the job.

I sometimes feel like that's what some knitters are doing to designers. They say, "I went to to Staples and figured out how much it costs to print this pattern and put it in a plastic sleeve protector, so if you charge me more than $2.50 for it, you're ripping me off." There doesn't seem to be any consideration for all that went into creating that design—the yarn, the knitting, the pattern writing, the tech editing, etc.

I appreciate it that so many of you said you'd be happy to get the newsletter in whatever format it's published. I know I may have made it sound like the digital delivery system is a hassle—it's really not. The hassle was that I spent a lot of time and effort attempting to make this transition as seamless as possible and some people still weren't happy. But the digital delivery system worked well enough that I am happy to continue to provide it to those who want it.

And now—I need to work on some other things besides the newsletter. My tech editor is expecting some book chapters next week, and I'll be heading off to Atlanta for four days. And there is a mountain of paper on my desk. Time to dig in.

February 24, 2008: Costs and Benefits

Thanks for everyone's thoughts about yesterday's post (and for those of you who let me know the download worked). I agree with my sister that business all comes down to a cost-benefit analysis of what works and what doesn't. The great irony, though, is that customers often are performing their own cost/benefit analyses—but because they may not have access to all the information, they come to a completely different conclusion about how things should be done and what something should cost.

There is an ongoing discussion over at Ravelry about the cost of digital downloads. One person suggested that they should only cost about $2, because that's what she figures it costs to produce them. I doubt, though, that she's figuring into that pricing equation the cost of yarn, business overhead (there are lots of hidden costs), and oh!—maybe the designer should get paid for her creativity in coming up with the design? (There is a novel idea.) So the customer—who doesn't have access to all the data—is attempting to set the price of something she wants. The only place I know of where you can do that is eBay.

I don't want to create an adversarial relationship with my subscribers. I happen to value every single one of you, and many of you have been with me from the beginning. But even the most devoted customer can't know everything there is to know about running Big Sky Knitting Designs. I will continue to encourage feedback (and I'll try to do it with grace and good humor) but I can't promise that I'll implement every suggestion.

My class at Camas Creek was delightful, even though only four of the eight students who had signed up and paid for the class showed up. The owner and I couldn't quite figure out what was going on with that. I'll teach whoever shows up, even if it's only one person, but it does create problems for the shop owner. One of the four students who came to the class was the lady who delivers our mail. She's such a sweetheart—she calmly puts up with my goofy dogs getting in to her mail truck to look for puppy treats. It was nice to have her there. And with only four students, I was able to give a lot of individual instruction.

Sometime today I need to figure out what I am taking with me to knit on this band trip tomorrow. I'd like it to be small enough that I can stuff it into my purse (I hear Fran yelling "Sock! Sock!" but I don't want four dpns sticking out). I have some bamboo yarn and I've been wanting to make a summer scarf. I think I'll cast on for that and take that with me tomorrow.

February 23, 2008: Digitize Me

This was the week that the Spring issue of the newsletter was delivered electronically to some subscribers for the first time. Around 3 p.m. yesterday afternoon I seriously considered ceasing publication of Twists and Turns® altogether. At the very least, I rather wish I had stuck with print-only and never offered the digital delivery version.

I'm a consumer, and I am guilty of this behavior, too (see the post below)—I don't always stop to think what goes on behind-the-scenes at the companies I patronize, and what might be involved in getting products to me. All I know is that I want the products when I want them and how I want them and at the price I think I should pay for them.

And perhaps it's that I've done such a good job over the years that my customers think I am a big company with lots of employees.

But I am one person. I am one person with a husband, two kids, and two dogs who require occasional maintenance that doesn't come in the form of frozen pizzas or take-out from Famous Dave's (that was dinner last night). I am one person who—when she decided to offer digital downloads—suddenly created twice as much work for herself in the form of TWO subscriber databases, TWO delivery methods, and—if some of the comments from yesterday are any indication—an eventual need to offer TWO separate and distinct publications.

I got comments ranging from the fact that the newsletter wasn't any different in digital form than print form to comments about the length of availability of the download to comments about the size of the file and the amount of ink needed to print it on a home printer. In some cases, the comment had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the recipient's ISP, but I heard about it anyway.

May I make a few suggestions?

• If you don't have DSL, the download may take several hours. You might want to stick with the print version.
• If you don't want to use up your inkjet cartridges printing out 24 pages, you might want to stick with the print version.
• If you travel a lot and won't always have access to a computer, you might want to stick with the print version—the post office will let me know if a piece of mail cannot be delivered and I can send it to you at a later date. I don't keep track of my subscribers' travel plans and have NO IDEA if you're not going to be at your computer for the next couple of weeks and won't be able to download this issue. But—just as with the print version—if you're a subscriber and for some reason didn't receive an issue, I am always happy to send it to you again, either by snail mail or (now) electronically. All you have to do is ask.

As for the comments I received about the print and digital versions of the newsletter being the same, well—yes, for this issue they were. I am aware that digital publishing technology has a lot of features not available in print publishing. At some point in the future I may be able to take advantage of those features. My goal with this issue, though, was simply to get the digital delivery system in place and the bugs worked out of it. I knew it probably wasn't going to work perfectly the first time, but I didn't want it to be a total disaster, either.

I spend the bulk of my time on each newsletter doing the layout—it's like a jigsaw puzzle and I have to make all of the pieces fit. The Spring issue was particularly challenging because three designs came from other designers, two of whom were new to pattern writing. Their patterns needed a lot of review by my tech editor and me. And one of those patterns was extremely complex and required me to be creative about the layout. Even at 24 pages, I had to leave out some things I had planned to include because they just didn't fit.

Now imagine that I have to do ANOTHER layout for digital subscribers, who would like features such as more pictures, detailed close-up pictures, hotlinks, and patterns arranged in such a way that they could be printed out individually if desired. Another layout takes time, and my time costs money, and it also requires editing by my tech editor, who does not work for free. I have to weigh the pros and cons of producing two different publications. Perhaps I will be able to make it work, perhaps not.

Look, I don't want to sound snarky and I've been told that nobody really cares what hoops I have to jump through to produce this newsletter, but when customers ask for something, I think it's important for me to be able to explain why I can or cannot deliver what they are asking for. It's particularly crucial when what they are asking for involves new technology—all they see are the benefits to them of this new technology. They are not thinking about what has to happen at my end for them to receive those benefits. They may not understand why producing the digital version of something isn't just a matter of poof!—waving a magic wand. Or why the digital version of something costs just as much as the print version. I don't think communication is a bad thing.

And not all the comments I received yesterday were negative. I am very grateful to the subscribers who took a minute to write and say, "The digital download worked perfectly—thanks so much!" And I am grateful those people who took the time to write with suggestions about changes they'd like to see. But it was Friday afternoon of a week when I put 428 miles on my truck in the space of three days (and didn't get any closer to Florida in the process) and what kept running through my mind was something about a road and good intentions and a place called hell.

Moving on . . . . I've got another class at Camas Creek Yarn today and I am really looking forward to it. This one will be for knitters who have learned to knit and purl and who now want to move on to a project. I love newbie knitters—they've got such enthusiasm and are so willing to learn new things.

I spent most of yesterday (when I wasn't answering e-mail about the newsletter) re-tooling my class handouts for my classes in Atlanta in a few weeks. I dropped them off at Staples yesterday afternoon on my way into town to be copied and will pick them up today on my way to Camas Creek. I much prefer to ship my class materials to the venue ahead of time, and the box for Atlanta needs to go out by Wednesday of next week.

And no, I still haven't decided what to do about the second sock . . .

February 21, 2008: Girls in Trucks

I have absolutely nothing interesting to write. I put 225 miles on my truck in a 24-hour period and I am more convinced than ever that the seat was designed by a man. For a man. My butt hurts. Sometimes I get so tired of living in a world where everything—and I mean EVERYTHING—is geared toward men. I love my truck, but is it so difficult to make a seat that's comfortable for women, too?

Speaking of trucks, this tickles me to no end:

I got it in the mail yesterday. Keep in mind that I have had the truck for 7 months now, and if this week is any indication, it's get a fair number of miles on it. The accompanying letter said, "We recommend that you watch the DVD as soon as possible to help familiarize yourself with your new Ram with the Cummins diesel. The audio CD covers the Electronic Vehicle Information Center (EVIC) codes related to your diesel engine." Hey thanks—this would have been really helpful about 6.5 months ago when my truck was throwing goofy codes for no reason and I had to argue with the diesel tech at the local dealer about getting the problem fixed. But I guess better late than never.

One of the husband's friends just bought a Dodge Ram 5500 chassis cab truck and even though the husband said he doesn't NEED another truck, I know he is having truck envy. I'm steeling myself for the possibility that he's going to come up from his office one night and tell me that he ordered a new truck. I've lived with the man for 20 years now—I know how these things work.

I took the girls in for their dental checkup yesterday. A few weeks ago DD#2 told me that one of her teeth felt funny and she thought maybe a filling had popped loose (she has two baby teeth with the composite that's the same color as the tooth). I looked and couldn't see anything. We said something to the dental assistant who cleaned her teeth yesterday. She poked around a bit and discovered that what was bothering DD#2 was a baby tooth which had cracked and was stuck in the gum. She pried it out (in two pieces) and we could see the adult tooth beneath it. I was fascinated; DD#1 had to leave the room. My kids do not have my tolerance for icky stuff.

I finished my sock and it turned out quite nicely. I may even make a second one to match it. Or I may knit another, completely different sock. I am chaperoning a band field trip to Missoula on Monday; it'll be four hours of knitting time and I need to decide what project to take with me.

And now it's off to the truck. Again.

February 19, 2008: Kids in Cars

I so enjoyed last week, when I didn't have to go anywhere. Now I'm back to being the gerbil on the treadmill. Today is going to be particularly fun—I have a meeting with someone at 10:30 this morning to talk about the fire department auction, after which I am going to get a massage (the only bright spot in the day—this is my "payment" for serving as a massage guinea pig a few months ago). After the massage I have a bunch of errands to run, including shipping off another wholesale book order that came yesterday. Then it's out to the elementary school to pick up DD#2, back into town to pick up DD#1 (she's tutoring after school as part of her National Honor Society duties), back out to drop DD#2 off at ballet, then back into town where DD#1 has scheduling for next semester. The husband is going to pick DD#2 up from ballet and hopefully find something for them to eat for dinner. If all goes well, I should be back home by 9:00 p.m.

We love the area of the valley where we live, but DD#1 was only 18 months old when we bought this property, and somehow I didn't have enough foresight to know that town being 17 miles away was going to become an issue when she was in high school. I have a friend who—when each of her kids became legally able to drive at 14 1/2—put them into a car and sent them off because she was tired of driving them around. I don't happen to agree that 14 1/2 year olds should be driving, but that's how things are out here.

DD#1 is in no hurry to drive; I actually have to remind her that she needs to take her truck out and practice so she gets enough hours in to qualify for her license. The husband went with her the other night and said she's a good driver, just very timid (she did not get my need for speed, obviously). I would be a nervous wreck if she were driving to school every day at this time of year with the roads as bad as they are sometimes, but on days like this, I wish she could drive herself hither and yon so I don't have to.

Tomorrow is not much better—the girls have a dentist appointment at 7:00 a.m. I'll come home and work for a while, but then I'll have to go into town again and get DD#1 after tutoring. And Thursday—well, Thursday is just as full as today. I think I'd better stock up on frozen pizzas while I am out today.

February 18, 2008: Slogging Through The Slough

Fran, you will be happy to know that I am halfway through my cabled sock and I am rather enjoying it. Not enough to knit socks exclusively, but enjoying it nonetheless. Heck, I could be knitting anything and enjoying it—it just feels good to be able to sit down and knit for a while.

I taught a finishing class at Camas Creek Saturday afternoon. I enjoy teaching there so much. I've had a couple of people say to me that I could give up traveling to teach and just teach at the store, and I have to say that the thought is really appealing. As much as I love traveling and teaching, it's really disruptive to both my work and family schedules. It's lovely to finish a class, drive home, and eat dinner.

I've hit the skids with Cables 2, probably because I worked on it so much last week. I know what needs to be done to finish it, but it feels like I am slogging though mud. Part of it is the fact that I am committed to having charts for each of the stitch patterns, but some of the techniques require me to make up new symbols or use existing symbols in interesting ways. I don't want things to become overly complex. When a four-row pattern takes half-an-hour to chart and write, though, I start to wonder if I'll ever get this book done.

In many ways, this book reminds me of Level II of the Master Knitting Program. I zoomed through Level I and got hung up on Level II for more than a year (it was that argyle sock, I tell you). Once I got Level II done, Level III didn't take long at all. I look at the chapters I have blocked out for Cables 3 and I think they will be MUCH easier to write and chart than what I am doing for Cables 2. I know that sounds counterintuitive, because Cables 3 will cover "advanced" techniques, but the techniques won't require so many unique symbols.

In other news, we've all recovered nicely here. And I've noticed something interesting in the past three weeks—I am finally losing some significant weight. I thought perhaps it was because I had been sick. I expected that the weight would bounce back once I started feeling better and eating again. Nope—every morning I get on the scale and I'm down a couple more ounces. I am down to a weight I haven't seen in almost five years. I've got about 10 more pounds to go and I'll be back to the weight I was at after I had DD#2, which is where I would love to be again. I think this has a lot to do with the change the naturopath made to my thyroid meds at the beginning of January. Hey, I'll take it.

February 13, 2008: Coordinating and Consolidating

At the top of my to-do list today was deciding on a method of delivering the Spring issue of the newsletter from among three or four different digital delivery options. The software module in my online store which controls the digital downloads purchased through the store allows me to generate download links, but only one at a time, not in a batch (darn, that would have been an easy solution).

Another possibility would have been to post the newsletter in a password-protected area of the website, then send a mass e-mail to subscribers letting them know they could log in and download. I was hoping, however, to do this without a password, so I set that option aside for a while.

I use Constant Contact for my Big Sky Knitting Designs Newsletter (which, alas, doesn't get sent as often as I'd like). Constant Contact is okay, except that I have to use Firefox as my browser instead of Safari, and it won't allow me to include attachments. I also find Constant Contact's HTML editor to be too limiting. All of those reasons are probably why I don't use it as much as I should, even though I am paying a monthly fee for it.

I did some searching and found two integrated programs—iForm and Mailings—which look like they'll do nicely. iForms will replace Constant Contact for collecting and maintaining the e-mail addresses of people who want to get the Big Sky Knitting Designs newsletter, and Mailings will replace Constant Contact by coordinating the mailing of any HTML e-mails I create in in Dreamweaver. Not having to use Constant Contact any more makes me very happy.

But back to Twists and Turns®—I tried out Mailings this morning and sent a test e-mail to everyone who asked to receive their issues digitally instead of in hard copy. Amazingly, of all the e-mails I sent out, fewer than a dozen came back as undeliverable for one reason or another. I'll go through those and figure out what's happening. Overall, I like Mailings a lot and I think it'll make sending out the newsletter quick and painless.

And I've spent quite enough time on the computer today, so now I am off to knit.

February 12, 2008: A Plague of Viruses

Well, it appears that what I had this weekend was indeed the flu (again). It was a lot like what I had three weeks ago when I had to cancel my beginning cable class. I was much better by yesterday, but both my girls stayed home from school. And then the husband came home, and he's got it, too—and he got a flu shot (EMT's have to). I read an article on MSNBC recently which indicated that there is a strain of flu going around that didn't make it into the vaccine this year because it emerged too late. So it's possible that's what we all have this go-round. It doesn't appear there is much cross-immunity from what IS in the vaccine, either, because the husband is sick enough that I am going to suggest he stay home today.

Bleh.

The interesting thing is that the adults seem to be taking this harder than the kids. My girls hung out on the couch and loveseat yesterday, but I dosed them up with ibuprofen and they weren't complaining too much. The adults, however . . . we have a mother who works as an aide at the elementary school and she said it took her almost two weeks to get over having it.

I told this group that I thought it was kind of funny that one of me had to take care of three of them, because when I was sick, there were three of them to take care of one of me. Oh well. I've got to run into town and do a couple of errands this morning, but then I'll come home and be nurse for the day.

I worked on Cables 2 for several hours yesterday, but I started to get really frustrated with this new keyboard. I think I mentioned how picky I am about my keyboards and how much I hate the ones that are available through most retail outlets. I found the Matias Tactile Pro a few years ago, and it quickly became my all-time favorite keyboard. It's based on the same kind of keyboards that came with the Mac in the 80's (if I had one of those, I'd still be using it, believe me).

I got a lot of use out of my first Tactile Pro, except that the "9" key had a tendency to stick. I got used to using the keypad for 9 and it really cut down on my use of parentheses, which I am sure made my tech editor very happy. I had to replace it, though, when the space bar stopped working.

This one is equally nice, except that the "f" key does not work. It doesn't stick, but when I press down on it, nothing happens. So I'll be typing along and I'll go back and look at what I've just done, and I'll see a sentence like this: "The Creston ire Department ollowed lathead County's lead in placing units in the stations to serve on area task orces." (I was working on some ire department stu yesterday—see what I mean?) Then I have to stop and go back and add all the f's back in. It's highly annoying.

I e-mailed the company yesterday but have not yet heard anything. These keyboards are not cheap—close to $175 with shipping. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect that for that kind of money, every key on this keyboard should work perfectly. Hopefully I will hear from them today.

February 10, 2008: Mystery Solved

My copy of Interweave Knits arrived yesterday and I solved the question of the uptick in book orders: I have a 1/6-page ad in this issue. I've committed to a 1/6-page ad in each of the 2008 issues, and if this ad is any indication, it looks to have been a good investment indeed.

I seem to have picked up another virus—a combination, no doubt, of being run ragged this past week and spending two of those days at the germ factory elementary school. It's just made me punky and I spent most of yesterday ensconced in my recliner, knitting. I made a pot of chicken and dumplings and it tasted really good.

So I am off to the knitting chair again. I bought some yarn this week to start a pair of cabled socks. I haven't done any socks for a while. They aren't really my favorite thing to knit (I know—heresy!) but I am itching to do some. I just go with the flow; it's easier that way.

February 9, 2008: I Finally Stop Moving

I was never so glad to get to a Friday in my life. I had virtually no downtime at all during the past eight days. It's hard for me to keep moving like that without stopping to regroup (and knit!). The husband and I finally got to have a conversation Thursday night on the way to the fire department meeting. Before that, we'd just been waving at each other as we passed at dinnertime and I handed him another pizza.

It's not that I mind being busy—I acually prefer to be busy—but I don't like being rushed from one activity to another from dawn to dusk, and that's all this week has been.

So yesterday I tackled my to-do list and put a fairly sizeable dent in it. I got a bunch of small items taken care of, and then I took a look at Cables 2. I haven't worked on it for almost 3 weeks, mostly because I hit a chapter in which I needed to make up some charts for an odd technique, and the solution I came up with last month was clunky at best. It created a big mental block; I just couldn't get past that chapter. Last week I was hit with a flash of inspiration while driving down the highway, so today I tried out my idea and it's a huge improvement. Whew. I cleaned up that chapter this afternoon and now I can see exactly what is left to be done. Onward. My tech editor is expecting the book March 1 for the first review, and I don't want to miss that deadline.

I've had an uptick in book orders—both retail and wholesale—in the past couple of weeks. I just filled a big wholesale order last week, and I got another order from the same company yesterday. It's fairly easy to trace what is causing the boost in retail orders by looking at my website statistics. What's causing the boost in wholesale orders is harder to pin down. I'm happy the books are moving at the pace they are, but it does mean I have to readjust the schedule I had set up for gettting reprints run.

So I am going to enjoy some quiet time this weekend, make a pot of soup (I am tired of pizza!), and knit. I'm going to try to stay out of my office, too. It's too tempting to work through the weekend.

February 7, 2008: Master of the Bunny Slope

Debbie, I know—it's almost criminal that I have lived here for 15 years and never been skiing. Thank goodness I have kids who go on field trips.

We set out about 9:00 a.m. yesterday morning on our big ski adventure. I drove my truck because I had to leave before the end of the day.

My mother is probably having a cow because I am driving down the highway and taking pictures from my truck, but I wanted you all to see where we were going.

Here is another picture from my truck. This doesn't do justice to how breathtakingly gorgeous the drive up was:

After a 15-mile drive up the mountain, we arrived here:

The Flathead Valley has a bigger, more famous ski resort—Big Mountain—but Blacktail bills itself as being "for the locals." The lift ticket prices are much more reasonable, although it's considerably faster to get to Big Mountain than it is to get to Blacktail. I'd never been to Blacktail before.

We got fitted with skis and boots, then headed out for a lesson. I was in a group of nine—seven girls (including DD#2), one boy, and me. None of had ever skied before. The instructors showed us the basics and helped us practice, then took us up to Mighty Mount (the bunny slope). We had to prove that we could ski down the bunny slope and stop without crashing into a snowbank before they would let us go down the big slope.

I stayed with the kids on the bunny slope even though I got the hang of it pretty fast and the instructors said I could go down the big run. No sense tempting fate. I only fell once, and it was because I got going way too fast. I think having done some cross-country skiing helped. It's not the same as downhill but in some ways it is. DD#2 picked it up quickly, too, and was zooming down the bunny hill (except that I didn't have my camera with me while we were skiing, do I didn't get a picture).

[The 5th-grade teacher has a picture of me going down the bunny slope. I'll see if I can get it from him.]

By then it was 12:30 p.m. and time to eat lunch, and I left shortly after lunch. DD#2 stayed with her class to the end of the day. As I left, I took this picture:

It had started to cloud up and snow, but I managed to get a shot from the top of the mountain looking east over the Flathead Valley. We live clear on the other side of the valley, where the arrow is (and from where I took the first picture).

It was a very enjoyable day. The instructors at Blacktail are fantastic and our kids were great. I said to the husband when I got home that if skiing weren't so expensive and getting to a mountain didn't take an hour, I would probably have a new favorite pasttime. I can see why people are so fanatic about it.

February 6, 2008: Meeting Myself Coming and Going

It's been an unbelievably busy last couple of days; I couldn't even find five minutes to write a blog post. Every once in a while things converge on me (usually during the first week of the month) and I start to feel like a gerbil on a treadmill. I've stopped looking at the baskets of laundry piled up in my room—if people are worried about going naked, they know how to run the washing machine. Ditto for eating.

The Spring issue is done and at the printer. That one felt like giving birth all over again—the newsletter is now 24 pages (that's a long story for another blog post) and this issue had three designs by other designers. One of them was fairly complex: it included a chart which I had to break over two pages. My tech editor went over this issue three times instead of the usual two, just to be on the safe side.

Today I am going skiing with the 5th-graders (more on that in a moment). Tomorrow I am working at the school again (I was there one day last week and again on Monday), and my plan for Friday is to stay home and work. There are so many things on my to-do list that require an uninterrupted block of time. I'm good at taking advantage of bits of time here and there, but some tasks can't be crammed into ten minutes between walking in the door and walking out again.

So DD#2 and I are going skiing today. I've never been downhill skiing. The husband is a very good skier, but he doesn't go very often because he doesn't like to take the time off. I love to ski cross-country, although I don't go very often, either, because I don't like to take the time off (we are two workaholics married to each other). And as yet another example of how fractured my life is this week, DD#1 gets out of school two hours early today so the teachers can have their monthly staff meeting. The ski trip is supposed to last until 4:30. Consequently, I am driving up to the ski resort so that DD#2 and I can leave early to be back here when DD#1 gets home.

The good news is that next week, the schedule is completely clear. The only day I have a firm committment to be anywhere is Thursday. The rest of the time I will be in my office working on MY business.

I'm taking the camera today. I'll have the kids take some pictures of me flinging myself down the bunny hill. Hopefully I won't break anything. Stay tuned.

February 1, 2008: Only 49 Days Until Spring

I am so glad it's February. Honestly, January lasted for a whole year. Did it feel that way to anyone else? Not that it makes much difference in the weather. It's still snowing and every trip to the mailbox is still the equivalent of an expedition to the South Pole. All we need is some penguins and we'll be all set.

I've been neck deep in the Spring newsletter this week. I think I've finally wrestled it into submission and it should be ready to go to the printer soon. This issue is crammed full of stuff: a cardigan, a pullover, a vest, a baby sweater, and the next installment of the Mystery Afghan. I sure wish I weren't confined to 24 pages (yes, it'll be 24 pages for everyone this time) because I think I could easily fill 32 pages. I had to leave a book review out of this issue, and I haven't written any technical articles for a while.

This was a paper-full week. Besides the newsletter, I had quarterly payroll reports to send off, a bunch of book orders to fill and invoice, various papers for school to look over and sign, all the promotional stuff for the fire department auction to start getting into place, and—hooray!—I got all the tax stuff in to the accountant. I'm pretty organized (I hate to think what this process would be like if I weren't), but getting the tax stuff done is a task I don't look forward to each year. The accountant tells me he should have the returns done early next week. I think that's a new record—we've never had the returns done this early.

I got the graphics card replaced in the new computer and so far everything seems to be functioning perfectly. My new keyboard should be here next week. I've got a new design swatched up and ready to send to my test-knitter in Canada and half a dozen ideas written down for other designs I'd like to do. I've got two classes at Camas Creek Yarn this month to prepare for, a DVD to make, and I need to get the rest of Cables 2 done. It should be a busy month! And this year we get an extra day!

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