I haven’t been a knitter these past couple of weeks. I’ve been a new person on the job who has to absorb a lot of information. I miss my knitting, though, and I need to make some time for it. It’s especially important now, because this morning I retrieved my package of The Great White Bale Lot 3 from the post office. Oh, my.
I’ve been using all of my mental energy learning things at work— where things fit in the order process, what kind of box a three-pack of chocolate chip cookies goes in, and what happens when an order contains, say, the three-pack and a coffee cake. I’m beginning to get used to this new language of orders, shipping, invoices, and fulfillment. In the long run the orders aren’t even going to be my main focus, but I need to know as much as I can before I begin to play my own part in the daily adventure that is Tate’s Bake Shop. It’s fascinating and exhilarating, and I’m enjoying every day.
My commute is not long — just a half hour — and so far I’ve been spending it in Willa Cather’s little town of Moonstone, Colorado as I listen to Song of the Lark. It’s one of my favorite novels, and this is the first time I’ve read it on audio. The landscape I drive through — so open, with the low trees of the Pine Barrens on either side — makes my time with Thea Kronborg, Dr. Archie, and Ray Kennedy seem to fly by.
I’m also adjusting to this thing called The Weekend (channelling Maggie Smith…). Two days off together? So novel!
Not Plain Jane 