The conference is over now, and I can get back to regular life, endeavoring at the same time to apply all the new knowledge I acquired over the past week.

But first, I need to get the sound of foreign accents out of my mind. I constantly hear East Indians saying “devil lopper” instead of “developer”, and Italians saying, in a very seductive way, “data-basil”. Only they really don’t say “basil”, but it sounds so delicious I feel the word simply must be edible. Then there was the comedic speaker who asked an audience member if he was wearing a kilt today, because if so he was going to have to learn how to sit like a lady because he (the speaker) could not tolerate another “Sharon Stone” moment as when he (the kilt-wearer) sat in the front row the last time.

I don’t know how much you out there in fiber-land know about databases in general and SQL Server in particular. Many of you probably glaze over at the thought of anything technical; others of you recognize the pattern-lover inside you and its relationship to data and are curious to know more, still others are known practitioners of the art of data. On the other hand, the majority of conference-goers, I speculate, probably do not knit… I saw nary a needle at the event. The thing is, we knew that we all had something very much in common– databases. Right? So you would think there would be a lot of talk amongst us, just as there is among knitters who know themselves to be part of the fiber world. Sadly, database folks are not typically the most social people around. My own social tolerance level is pretty low, but I found myself feeling very alone in a sea of people. Now and then, I would strike up a conversation, usually at lunch, but it was simply polite chatter that would lead nowhere. Which is where I think this paragraph is leading…. nowhere. But it was on my mind, and there it is, spilt all over my screen. Messy.

Last night I finished up the second ball of yarn for Colette, which put me in the middle of the seed-stitch belt on the back. I will put it away now until the time, which inevitably must come, when I need soothing stockinette once more. The puckeriness you see is a design element. The bottom portion is completely cast off, then smaller needles are used to pick up and knit only about 3/4 of the original number of stitches. I am curious as to why the stitches aren’t simply decreased. Another headscratcher. I could have defied the pattern and done it my way, but I was feeling more sheeplike, and so followed the pattern slavishly.

Meanwhile, the Rebels and the Yankees are on either side of Antietam Creek. General McClellan is foolishly waiting for reinforcements before he attacks, while Lee is hoping that additional Rebels make it to the scene before McClellan makes up his mind to strike. McClellan thinks there are 80,000 Rebels there already, while Lee knows there are fewer than 17,000. And I knit frantically away on Icy River, the tactile equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and saying “lalalalalala” so that I avoid paying too close attention to all the bloody horrific parts that are coming.