And so The Third Full Day of this Knitting & Yoga Adventure commenced, for me anyhow, with me just barely making it in under the caffeine wire and sliding into the dining room at 8:59 am, with just a minute to spare before breakfast ended. What can I say? The air on the island is conducive to sleeping in. Though empirical evidence—which is to say raucous breakfast goings on by the time I arrived—suggests that perhaps the air is also conducive to waking up early.
Whatever the case, I devoured my raspberry and lemon muffin, slurped down about a gallon of coffee, and then what DID I do? See how fast you get into Island Mind and the minutes and hours and days all sort of blur and you can’t recall the order of things? Hell, I don’t think I can even tell you what year it is at this point.
But I do know that eventually, drawn by the promise of bag lunches from The Novelty and a walk up to Cathedral Woods and on over to Squeaker Cove found me gravitating toward the group gathered in the living room about to embark on the journey. As you know, when it comes to Monhegan House, the journey of a thousand miles, or even seven feet, begins with a single step…. toward MORE DELICIOUS FOOD. OMG. I couldn’t even wait until I was out the door let alone into the woods to eat my “picnic” lunch.
Amply nourished, off we went. Along the way, I looked across to Manana Island, and lo! I beheld the shadow known as The Monk and The Nun, which Bob told us about the other night at our informal history lesson. Look closely in the picture below, off to the right, and you'll see it.
The array of Fairy Houses this year was pretty off the charts, hinting at possible fairy gentrification, and possible fairy overcrowding. In truth, the rapid growth of the houses since I was last here in June actually reminds me of what’s happening in Austin right now. Population Explosion. It was nice to see so much creativity out there in the forest.
And then, miraculously without getting lost (which is sort of a tradition for anyone who visits the island), we found our way to Squeaker Cove and sat upon the rocks and drank in the sun and watched some seals cavorting out where the big waves break. We sat there, taking it all in, and collectively thinking the same thing, “What will Holden feed us next?!”
I’m kidding. We did get in some knitting though. And then back to the house to have another knitting class with Susan. On the way home, I stopped at Elva’s PO to buy a pair of chartreusey yoga pants. I did this for three reasons: 1. Support the local economy. 2. So I would look hot in yoga class. 3. Because my Levi’s no longer fit me after three days of eating cake at every meal.
Susan Mills, who leads our knitting classes, happens to be the Creative Director for Classic Elite Yarns, and she brought us some delicious sample yarn. Today’s project was also from the Elizabeth Zimmermann classic, KNITTER’S ALMANAC, one of my all-time favorite knitting books. Okay, let me just say it: my ALL-TIME FAVORITE. Our first day we started EZ’s pi shawls. Today we got cranking on Mitered Mittens.
I confess I got sidetracked due to two factors. Firstly, Holden showed up with still more snacks. I am not kidding. Today we had Czech wedding cake cookies (don’t worry, no one got married), and fudge, and blueberry cheesecakes, and on the savory side some dip made from pistachios and Dijon that I would like to have my entire body smeared in at some point. I wolfed down as much as I could to carb up for my massage, which was the second factor that tore me away from the knitting session.
Up the stairs I tumbled with my pistachio-coated belly, and Mary Alice, as she has for years, appeared as if an Angel from on High and she said unto me, “I put the orange sheets on the table for you.” I LOVE ORANGE! Orange totally matches my back tattoo! Thanks Mary Alice.
Here’s the thing about massage and me. I try to get massages regularly. I have talented masseuse friends I visit. Sometimes I pop into those strip mall reflexology places where they pound the living pistachios out of you until you nearly cry and you consider this a good thing. But Mary Alice has such a special and unique and non-hurt touch that I immediately disappear into another world as she works. I call this the World of Snore & Drool. When I am face down, though I try not to let it happen, I just know I drool right through the face rest and onto the floor. When I am on my back, as I am floating around the ceiling, compiling amazing ideas on how to accomplish world peace and eat as many blueberry cheesecakes as I want without having to buy the next size up yoga pants, I am only awakened by one thing: MY OWN DAMN SNORING.
Well okay, there is a second thing that awakens me. This is the sound of Mary Alice, when all is said and done and rubbed and soothed, that it’s time to get up and go, but to just take my time. And then I come to, slowly, and I realise I am in my happy place, in this hotel, on this island, in a room, on a table covered in orange sheets, and the hooks on the wall look like pugilistic octopi asking if I want to put up my dukes. And all I can think is, “Heck no, my octopi friends. You really ought to try one of these massage things and just put down your dukes and relax.”
I stumbled down to yoga after my massage, and I’m not sure how Melora made it happen, but she got me to do an inversion. I’m not really an inversion gal. Oh I used to do the old plow stand and whatever the heck else you do. But that was years ago. So to find myself upside down like that, and to have photographic evidence (which, I confess, makes me less in love with those new yoga pants—I should’ve gone for slimming black with vertical stripes), well I had to give Melora a huge hug. AMAZING!!
I probably burned off at least ten calories whilst I was upside down, and to remedy this glaring lack in my freshly massaged body, I segued seamlessly from yoga to Pizza Night. Joe took excellent care of us—the whole staff here always does, and I’d like to give extra shout outs to Kimberly and Sue who along with Holden and Joe really have handled the lion’s share of making us all Queens for the Week.
After dinner we waddled over to The Novelty for some ice cream. And then that was it—I AM DEFEATED. Joyfully defeated but utterly pooped, and getting ready to call it an early night. Tomorrow is another day. I think I am going to start knitting some nice ribbed panels to sew into the front of my jeans, like old school maternity pants, to accommodate the ongoing feeding frenzy we got going on.