pain

The tendinitis in my left hand and arm is almost overwhelming. It's been building slowly, the past few days, a result of doing lots of little things with my hands; dog grooming and clipping, knitting, gardening and typing. Not to mention leash corrections, and chop-chop-choppety-chopping in the kitchen. I'm in pain, woke up to pain, and am just about to take some...what? aspirin? muscle relaxant? I rarely medicate it, have occasional flare-ups, and usually deal by putting the wrist in a brace, and laying off the knitting for a couple days. But dammit, I don't want to stop doing anything ('cept maybe giving Cricket leash corrections - the dog NEEDS to learn to walk on a loose leash!) and this pain is worse than it's ever been before. It's not debilitating by any means, but it's demoralizing.

Today is Worldwide Knit in Public Day, with a big knitting meet-up in Kapiolani Park, right after the Kamehameha day parade, which should have Waikiki all tied up, trafficwise. So I'll be going, but wonder if I should take the bus? I'm told it takes 2 hours to get to Waikiki from Nuuanu, which might be great knitting time, or it might suck royally, if I have to pee or something. I think I'm gonna suck it up and just head down there by car. Get together with my knitters...what's this Knit In Public thing anyway? Is it any big deal? I knit in public when I can, and welcome the opportunity to do so, but apparently some are so self-conscious about it that they need to stage a knit-in to make a statement? Hmmmmm...knitting as social statement. Methinks it's one of those self-referential social phenomenae that is just another way to garner attention for knitting and knitters, but nevertheless, I'm in. Still, it does have me thinking about a time, oh, a hundred and fifty years ago, when most women knit, knitted from necessity and there were no self-referential celebrations to point out that it was a Growing and Wonderful Thing. Were those days better? I think not. No Noro, and probably far too many socks to be knitted for my tastes. But sometimes, in our attempts to define ourselves, we can seem a little bit ridiculous. Fear not, though, Hourglass Sweater and I will be making our appearance, to do the Knit Thing.

Funny thing. As I type, my hand feels a wee bit better. Maybe I should go out and dig a ditch or something?

My friend Lia is moving, for 4 months, to the mainland. I am sad, as it takes a dramatic toll on my social outlets. Since the days a couple of months ago, when we toiled in the big rains, walking Marie's dogs, we've bonded, and it was nice to have a friend here, to meet for coffee, to go thrift shopping, to hike with. There's Marie, of course, but she has kids, and her dog training business, and I would never compare my friends to each other, but Lia's departure leaves a hole. There's the annual threat, according to Marie, as well, that Lia's going to move back to the mainland for good.

Training and civilizing Cricket continues apace. He is nearly 4 months old, and is moving out of the fragile puppy stage and into something quite a bit bolder. He's a very different animal than was Ella, whose defiance was so much more pronounced, and who seemed to believe that everything was a big joke. Corrections rolled off her curly grey back like water. Cricket is more malleable, but he dreams big, too, in a way that Ella never did. He attempts to take things off the dining room table, he went running and crashed right through the screen door, yesterday, taking it off its hinges, he has shredded 2 dog beds to date. Housebreaking goes slowly, but we're in a rhythm, now, anyway. It's the little victories, with a puppy, I guess. I was thinking that you can't look at the 2 years it takes, it will make you crazy. You've gotta think about this one night slept through, this one chair leg that he stopped chewing when you said "off!" this one crisis averted. It makes it easier.