illin' and chillin'

I had a great meme-y post all written, a week ago, and Blogger lied to me and didn't save it automatically, so it was lost, as was my meme mojo. Nevertheless, I may try again.

My week has been consumed by, in this order: strep throat and missing 3 days of work, a day of face painting, including some work on adults and some of the best artistry I've ever done on the human face (it helps to have extremely good-looking co-workers), and a vicious migraine that landed me in urgent care this morning for 3 hours, culminating in an iv bag full of fluids and a shot of Dilaudid.

Wow. That Dilaudid is something else. I felt like Matt Dillon in Drugstore Cowboy.

Despite the scary illin' tone of the week, it hasn't really been too bad. The strep is being taken care of with amoxycillin, and after one feverish day, then a visit to my trusty doctor, I'm in no pain any more from that. The 3 days off work were only mildly sickly, but consisted mostly of me puttering around the house entertaining my dogs and reading Dodie Smith's most wonderful novel, "I Capture the Castle". Cooking and cleaning and listening to a lot of music. Doing surprisingly little knitting.

The face painting gig was one I'd had lined up to do for my school's field day. I have not painted faces since my move to full-time employment last August. It took me about 10 faces to find my groove, but once in, I had fun. After the field day, some co-workers came around asking if I'd paint their faces. It was lovely and fun to work on adult faces (I almost always do children) in a quiet air-conditioned room, with no long line waiting for me to hurry up. Hence the nice work. Alas, I've no pictures, but trust me, it was good work!

Now I'm here, P is on a pizza run (because I can always eat spinach and garlic pizza from Boston's North End Pizza) and I'm just a bit shaky, but pain-free. The migraine was a nightmare of sobbing, puking and inability to stomach the very thing that would put it to rest. I went in to urgent care for the iv, some anti-nausea drug and the Drugstore Cowboy cocktail. I've never had an iv in my life, and was a little scared. P was assuring me that I wouldn't have an embolism when the iv ran out, which was something I hadn't considered, til he mentioned it. He's helpful like that, my husband. I am much better now, and am just taking it easy. I went on a walk with Ella this evening, mostly to move my body around. Ella is the ultimate pleasure walking dog. She is calm, a bit slow, methodically reading and responding to the pee mail along the way. Sort of the anti-Cricket, whom P walked, as I was not up to it.

I have done a bit of knitting, unispired though it may be. I present to you the titillating shot of Eleanor's backside:

It's kinda ruffly where you pick up stitches as you knit along the tiers and altogether cute in its rustic way. Eleanor grows, though slowly; clearly a sign that I'm not watching enough tv. She's my "Battlestar Galactica" knitting. I've been metering out my episodes and am now midway through Season 2.5.

Lest you think I've given up sock knitting entirely, I present a rather poor shot (my camera isn't what it was back in 1998) of my first Child's First Sock. Knitting on these #1 needles is too slow for me. I like this pattern. It's intuitive, and cute and even forgiving, as this here sock is full of mistakes. It's a very snug fitting sock, and I hope I get it right to fit me, otherwise it'll have to go to someone with itty-bitty feet.


I hear the car in the driveway, so the meme'll have to wait.

dogiversary

Perhaps you are getting tired of dog news in lieu of actual knitting in my life? Move along, then, as we have another milestone in Chez Nuuanu Estate.

It's Cricket's first dogiversary. We've had him for one year today! In contrast to Ella, he was the biggest pup in his litter, and has always been a sort of a hulking, oafish fellow, though pretty smart.


The breeder was calling him The Buddha, but we thought it seemed kinda disrespectful to name him that, as we had so many Buddhist friends and co-workers here...and besides, he isn't very serene, and tends to complain incessantly about whatever is on his mind...not so Buddhist, if you ask me. So we changed his name to Cricket, because, well, he was sporty, and black and bouncy like a cricket, but mostly because we liked the sound of it.


It's been shortened to Crick, but sometimes he gets the long forms; Cricket Cricketovich, or the more middle eastern sounding Crickmanistan.


He's a dog with 'issues' as one puts it politely. A little aggressive with other dogs, not so focused and driven as Ella, even when she was that age. Not one to sit peacefully in the corner for long, either. He snores, drinks from the toilet and digs up roots in the yard. He brings lava rocks the size of softballs into the house through the dog door. Maybe the canine equivalent of pumping iron?

vignettes and a birthday

Happy Birthday to my lovely Ella, couch dog extraordinaire, fetcher of frisbees, queen of carrion-eaters, champion finder of treats tossed in the grass, sometimes agility dog, always a beloved companion. I remember, 9 years ago, when the breeder phoned me to tell me the litter had been born, and she remarked that the runt, half the size of the other pups, was really active, scrambling over the other 8 pups, with a powerful will to live. I didn't realize that the runt was going to eventually become my own, 2 months later.
At 9, she is still lively, a serious watch dog, and the boss. Time has flown so quickly, my love.


It wouldn't have been knit night without some silly shennanigans at Ward Center last week. Here is a bit of fun with Blogless Michelle's gift of fantastic purple possum yarn from New Zealand, in Goma Tei Ramen restaurant. I am being silly while the Blogless One eggs me on. I think we were good for business, what with the yarn modeling, and enthusiasm for their food. Not to mention their excellent Kirin draft beer which is cheap and delicious. Video courtesy of that clever Acornbud


Did I mention I'd completely let go of work? I have just 2 little vignettes for you, both taking place at my job...

Vignette #1: I cleaned up and recycled 33 empty water bottles drunk up by my co-teacher, who never cleans surrounding surfaces; they were lined up on our metal counter by the sink. When I asked her about them (thus dropping a HUGE hint that they were cluttering up the area) she said "Oh yeah, you'll have to get a trash bag from the custodians and haul them down to the recycling dumpster." Uh...never mind that I've been drinking from the same water bottle all year, and that this mess was NOT mine. I was so surprised by her response that I just did what she asked. Later she remarked to me "I"m so glad that you're a person who cleans, I feel badly that I'm not..." I shook my head in marvelling wonder, and continue to count the days til we do not have to share a classroom, negotiate curriculum, and do grades together.

Vignette #2: I'm eating fruit salad at my desk during recess. I put the bowl down on the desk, and go across the room to assist a student who's staying in to finish work. I'm gone for 5 minutes. When I return, there are 3 little cockroaches in my fruit salad!" Needless to say, this got tossed. Yick.

Ah, well, it's getting to be that summer time feeling, even here in the land of the endless summer.

slam!

Spring has slammed me with allergies, spring fever and a general unwillingness to work hard on anything except for, wonder of wonders, housecleaning. I dunno, there's been something satisfying about scrubbing and vacuuming and picking up and putting away, recently. It can't last. I'm not really that domestic. Nevertheless, it is nice to wake up to a clean house, these days. I've been getting up early, 5:00 am, and journaling, knitting, reading tarot and just puttering around the house. I don't get to work any earlier, but things seem to work better for me when I get out of bed at the crack of dawn. It does require some machination to get INTO the bed at a decent hour, though.

Lady Eleanor is growing, tier by tier. I am enjoying this knit, even though the repetitive zone of 8 stitches back and forth is wrecking my wrists and hands in a way that they haven't been wrecked since I first learned to knit. I'm almost willing to believe the aches are a product of my ongoing general malaise, rather than any repetitive stress injury triggered by the knitting. The malaise of sore throats and drag-ass and itenerant aches and pains is undiagnosed by my doctor, who prescribed exercise and decongestants. I'm thinking massage and a detox diet as soon as school's out. Til then, it's tons of sleep, which IS helping, and exercise, which at least feels great when I'm doing it.

Anyway, here's Eleanor:

Isn't she lovely?

I spent some $ at the annual Webs sale on some DK yarns: Jo Sharp Silkroad DK in the color "Cedar". I love this color, which is pretty true here in the shot. This is slated for Marilyn's Not-So-Shrunken Cardigan eventually.



Here's some Elsebeth Lavold Silky Tweed, in a remarkable rust color that closely matches my cherry wood dining room table! This yarn, with its small percentage of wool, and mostly cotton and silk, will be the Lotus Blossom Tank when it grows up.


The employment situation is still nebulous. That said, work is pretty enjoyable right now, given that I'm making lemons out of lemonade. I think it's proof positive that I've made the break from work obsession, that I'm not eating myself alive over not having a job for next year, yet. Perhaps another taste of the rainbow is in order.