But, really, the dog comes first
Not Knitting
Act II, Scene I
Oct 1st
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What I thought was going to happen during September:
1. massive house cleaning, organizing, decluttering
2. my sister and parents would visit
3. there was a wedding to attend
4. my birthday would come and go
5. my sister was going to take my credit card, go to the best nursery in the area, and plan my landscaping. Then she was going to come back and fix my yard.
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What actually happened in September:
1. my sister chose to have surgery over doing my landscaping
2. my mother decided to break not one but two wrists, at the same time. (This morning she tried to fish the phone out of the toilet with two casts.) (Think on that for a moment.)
3. my house did not get cleaned, organized, or decluttered
4. my landscaping did not get done
5. my birthday was over-the-top awesome
6. I retired*
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And what I’ve learned so far in Act II, Scene I (oh and it is draw-jopping huge. HUGE, I tell you):
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1. I do NOT have to do the food shopping and meal prep on the weekend. (Oh the luxury!)
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2. Just because I’m not going to work doesn’t mean I can ignore the calendar. (O.k. we did NOT miss any major events. But it was close.)
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Expect blogging to resume, post-haste.
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*That would be, oh, yesterday. My mind reels. And often squeeeees.
A wise person once told me,
Sep 25th
or maybe it was many wise people, at different times.
No matter.
A wise person once told me not write while in the middle of something. Something emotional. Your writing will improve with perspective – that elusive vantage point where all is clear and makes sense.
I’m pretty sure this (trivial lowering of camera elevation) is not what they had in mind:
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but it is good for the soul.
We are o.k. We almost weren’t. (The problem with crisis, as far as I’m concerned, is that after it’s over and everyone is o.k. You probably really need to sleep.)
I always wanted
Sep 18th
I always wanted to be a wise old hag. (The politically correct term might be crone; but by my read, neither is very flattering.)
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I wanted to be old and wise; gentle, accepting, unflappable. I wanted to be someone people came to for advice and I dispensed it sparingly. I wanted to be strong and wizened. I wanted to wear long graceful shawls and wrap up in warm comforting blankets. I wanted to have grandchildren and tell them fables and stories of old. I wanted to make sense of the past as we gracefully move forward.
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I also wanted to be a ballerina and an astronaut.
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I feel guilty that I have no power to fix the world. No power to fix anything really. No power to change anything except myself.
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Actually, I can feel bad about anything. (Colleen Wainwright (communicatrix turned 50 a few days ago. She raised $50,000 for WriteGirl*. And what am I doing?)
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Somewhere along the way, I forgot the goal – to grow old and wise.
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Grandchildren – not very likely
Still learning – check!
Still growing old – check!
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Huh, I’m right on track. Happy Birthday to me.
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*WriteGirl is a nonprofit organization for high school girls centered on the craft of creative writing and empowerment through self-expression. A very cool group and still taking doantions.
Traveling …
Sep 16th
I’m away from home this week.
I was grousing, last weekend, about having to pack (which involves doing the laundry and Mother Nature hasn’t been cooperative with the drying weather).
And I whined right up until I remembered that it was cooler “there” than home and I got to wear my socks:
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Of course, the weather has not cooperated and today is the first day I want to wear socks.
And I’m headed for a run on the beach … in my store-bought mainstream manufactured wool socks. Sand is terrible for the handknits. /sigh
If I invited you to dinner,
Sep 14th
would you come?
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(Sorry for the terrible picture.) Yes, I made dog food again and yes, the pot is on the floor for Ned. And, yes, I pretty much only use that pot for dog food. Maybe corn.
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That is Nickie in the corner.
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She’s been hanging out on the canner – which we were using for water during Irene. And, yes, it is still on the floor. It may have water in it.
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We lost her the other night. I was just starting to get worried:
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She’s actually in the cabinet, behind closed doors, in the roasting pan.
Plunging in …
Sep 12th
So … Saturday was the annual day where we torment spend the day with our furry friends at the pool.
I thought, maybe, this year Aurora would like to tell you about it (since, you know, I didn’t really expect her to live this long and I had to debate whether or not to bring her (it might be her last time/but she hates it/but it’s good for her))
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Snapped
Sep 11th
I have been trying to get this shot for months*:
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And then I go and miss her ears. /sigh
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We’re fine (swamped**). Posting will resume soon.
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* With no canine teeth, her tongue literally falls out of her mouth. It amuses me.
**kind of literally, swamped that is.
10 on Tuesday: the Contagious! Edition
Sep 6th
Actually, the topic is Ten Things I’d like to Knit This Fall/Winter.
And Carole, sweetheart, you will be personally and solely responsible for the on-set of wide-spread mass startitis.
And also the reason I don’t get any sleep tonight.
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1 – 5. Knitting for Norma and Barbara (I have a soft spot for VT and MA)
For hats, I’m looking at this. And this. And this. And This, maybe.
And this scarf.
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6. My Knitter’s Review Retreat New Beginning Mittens (Rav) (which were first blogged here).
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8. My Fabulous Adventure Socks (I’ve separated the Two Toes of the Horrible Meeting and I am moving past the First Heel of the New Direction)
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9. My current shawl, on the needles.
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10. hmmmm … let’s see ….
A lot of huff
Aug 28th
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It took a few hours for the storm to clear, but by early afternoon the sun made a welcome appearance. It doesn’t seem too bad – except the power is out. (Odd twist of fate: the coffee pot turns on automagically at o’dark thirty. The (second) power outage occurred at o’dark thirty-two. So we had a dribble of coffee in the pot. Even odder: this is the second time that has happened in this house.)
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Ned is dry:
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Nickie is in a window (how often is it cool enough to open a window in August?)
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And Aurora is in front of a fan:
I’m wishing I could do laundry.
I am hoping you are dry, unless you don’t want to be.
