You Can't Go Home

Wow.

I didn't realize going back to Sacramento would be so emotionally exhausting. It had to be done, but I guess I had hoped for a different outcome.

Before I start whining, moaning, and bitching about that, the really bad news first. There is no new yarn to photograph. There are no new WIP's to wave around. The only yarn I got in the mail was from various sock clubs, and I don't want to be a spoiler. I will say, though, that one of the clubs sent me ShiBui, a yarn I haven't tried yet but have heard a lot about. Oh my. It's gorgeous, with a softness you have to feel to truly experience. I can't wait to get that on the needles!

Now on to yesterday.

I had to pay my pain doctor my six-month visit. It's very difficult to find a good doctor in that genre, so I make the trip instead of trying to find a new one here. After all, we've been together for ten years and have a history together, so I'm loathe to just leave him. First, he was on a conference call and tried to have some broad in the office send me out some scripts. No way, I told her. I needed to talk to him. So a few minutes later, I was escorted back and he came striding in. I have to admit that I've had the hots for him since the first time I met him - what's it like to do it with a doctor? You know... they know anatomy intimately, so it must be... ahem. I digress. So we sat down, he said, "So? You needed to talk to me?", and I promptly burst into tears.

The thing is, my meds have stopped working. They haven't worked for about two months now, and this sleeplessness thing has gotten really old. I explained what was going on, and that turned into what was going on in my life, and then I started yelling at him (I'm sorry, Dr. T!), and then I was in his arms sobbing on his shoulder (I always like that part). The upshot was that he increased my oxy and gave me a new pill to try. I took one of them this evening and was out like a light. Wow. I think I may like this new pill.

So after there, we headed over to my old salon for a mani/pedi. Yes, I know that's the new trendy way to say they're going to whack away at my hands and feet, but it's easier to type. My old gals were waiting for me with arms open. We hugged, I sat in the big vibrating chair, and entered an hour or so of pure bliss. I still have some of that fragrant oil on me.

We left there a little after 6:00 p.m. and headed for my old LYS. Now, I've been with this shop from the beginning. I was their top teacher. When I had oral surgery, the owner brought me homemade soup. I even have a key to the place. I walked in and there were a group of women at the table in back (only a few of which I knew), and the owner got up to hug me. We moved up behind the cash register and started gabbing. I was shocked at how little had changed. The stock was basically the same, all the things I had bought for the store were still there (although sort of stuffed into corners), the colors were the same - in short, it looked like I had never left. There weren't even any sweaters or projects hanging on the wall. I had tried really hard to help the owner get off on the right foot. I've told her time and again that she needs to increase her sock selection, bring in some indie dyers. She showed me her sock yarn section. I was appalled. She had gotten Wildfoote in every color they make. That was her big yarn surprise. I just looked at it and said, "Oh... uh... that's really uh... nice.". I've told her that she needs to expand her notions section and also bring in a lot more books. The selections were worse than before I had left. Now she's thinking of doing a TV commercial. There's one other yarn shop in town (who I think is barely hanging on), and I'd be all over that like a fly on a turd. But she just doesn't seem to get it. She's doing things like cruises, nursing beginners along (I had tried to get advanced classes in, but her clientele is sort of challenged - they like to make simple scarves or chemo caps - a worthy cause to be sure, but they don't allow a lot of room for growth in the knitting arena). They had a bad spring, which doesn't bode well for the rest of the year. I'm so hoping that things will turn around for her, but I don't know. I used to own a shop, so I know of what I speak. I guess she just doesn't want to listen to advice. She did do a couple of things I had suggested, but I think it's too little too late.

I think what was most troubling was when I hugged her good-bye. Right before that, I said that I had better go. She stood up, and in the voice she uses for customers who are strangers or have only bought a skein of yarn or a pack of needles, she said something like, '"Come back again and see us!" The whole thing was upsetting. I left the store without having bought a token something, which I normally would never do.

I guess the saying that you can't go home is true. It certainly was in this case. The nail parlor was fine, but then again, they're not the people I would call to go out to lunch with. Sometimes it's easier to forget those who have moved away rather than put forth an effort to keep in touch. I think that's what has happened here.

Will I go back? I don't know. We really didn't have a lot to discuss, so I think that maybe the next time I go up there, I'll drive in the opposite direction, hit the yarn shop in the town northeast of them, and do a little gambling in the Indian casino. My chances of being happy there are pretty damned good. They have a Fatburger.

Back to knitting while my sleeping pills work - then it's off to slumberland for a while, and when I wake up, into the pool for the afternoon. I don't know what to do with myself - swimming? It's supposed to hit 90 here today, so it warrants an afternoon of doing laps, then tanning in my floatie. Maybe you can go home in some respects after all.