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Showing posts from December, 2015

Bad Timing

Last night, my Life Modem suddenly ceased to function.  Goodbye internet, goodbye TV.  I spent an hour on the phone with a tech, trying all sorts of things.  The ultimate conclusion was that my modem is out of date.  A new one will be here on January 2nd.
My first reaction: I hate doing things on my phone.  (Like this, for example.)  Second:  I'm going to miss SO MUCH FOOTBALL!!!!!!

Of All Stripes and Colors

You know, if you're going to knit Barbie clothes, it's only right to accessorize: About 10 or 15 years ago, a bag of Barbie shoes would have sent my daughter into orbit.  She was all about the shoes and the furniture in BarbieWorld.
Kathy asked her readers today what they are knitting.  I've got more than one thing ongoing, but I've made a lot of elephants.  I like how this one striped up:
Believe it or not, there is less than a week until Blankapalooza kicks off!  I'll give you the first color prompt Sunday, January 3rd.

It's My Most Favorite Day of the Year

At my therapist's office the other day, there was a Christmas CD playing (naturally) and "It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year," sung by Andy Williams, came up.  And, yes, the fact that some of you don't know who Andy Williams is, and how he fits into lots of Christmas memories, is bothersome. At any rate, listen. Especially from 1:02 to 1:15.
Am I the only one who never knew about those stories being part of Christmas?  Has an enormous portion of Christmas tradition never been mine?  Did you betray us, too, Perry Como?
I picked Hannah up from work last night, as she didn't have another ride.  She gave me a little bag of Christmas cookies, baked by her boyfriend's grandmother.  By the time I had gotten back home, this was the state of affairs: They had been all dolled up with peppermint twine and ribbony, sequiny stickers.  But there were only two left.  A fact that was not lost on Rupert: Of course he got some bites.  I may be terribly bitter right…

Sturm and Storm

Both my children are so tired and tense, I wonder if it wouldn't be better for each of us to spend our own Christmas alone.  Last year, trying to get together and get along, was a sh*tfest, and I know how easily things can get really ugly around here.  It would be better if we got to sleep in and take our own times with the day.
From the gifts angle, I can deliver theirs whenever it's convenient, or hold them here for pick-up.  As I say every year, I doubt they will have gotten me anything.  They never even ask what I want.  Until you read otherwise here, assume that on any gift-giving occasion, I will not receive anything.  I am ashamed to have brought up such inconsiderate people.  They are both so wonderful in so many ways, but they rarely, if ever, see beyond their own noses.  It is hurtful and disrespectful, and they are both old enough to have "grown out of it," if that were going to happen.
At any rate, I have bought myself a little something every month this…

Breathing

It seems that all I've done lately is drive to and from the UGA Vet School.  And every trip brought more stress, more nerves, more concern, more and bigger bills.
Madeleine has been doing quite well.  She is eating ravenously.  Though Lily, Erin and Riley seem to have quasi-adjusted to the every-12-hours feeding schedule, she pipes up every time I go into the kitchen.  Which is often.  Interestingly, though, it's Lily who wakes me up each morning.  She will come sit on me and pip (she doesn't really "meow") until I'm awake.  Barring anything unforeseen, Maddie is free until another glucose curve the first week of January.
 Buddy, God love him, has been moved successfully today from UGA to our vet's.  The willingness of UGA to let him go, and Dr. Smith to take him in, makes me feel better about him.  The ominous-sounding "underlying causes" that everyone kept talking about as what were making him so much sicker than his diabetes tied me in knots…

Lag

Last Thursday night, I went over to feed Buddy and give him his insulin.  (It was "Star Wars" night, and Briton was not going to be able to leave the theater until very, very late.)  Briton had said he hadn't been eating, despite appetite stimulants.  
He was lying in the middle of Briton's bed, and looked bad.  Very, very bad.  I'd had a knot in my stomach about him all day, and I saw why.  I got on the bed with him, just petting him, and knew something had to be done.  Otherwise, Briton was going to come home to find that he had died.
Off again to UGA VER.  The resident who did the intake recognized my name, and said, "Madeleine, right?"  Turns out he was part of the team taking care of her.
I did the best I could to answer his questions, but, as involved as I've been in the last year-plus, I didn't know everything.  He isn't my cat.
When the initial diagnosis and treatment options came in, we were looking at up to $3500.  I can't do …

Step Right In

My life, and the lives of those around me, have careened into a circus tent.  Due to some circumstances being utterly, unquestionably, and decidedly not anyone's fault, but also due to some which are glaringly, obviously, and so clearly the fault(s) of one or more of us, it has fallen to me to pull all this back together.  Except I'm not the Ringmaster.  No; too easy.

I need glue and spit and phone lines and Kleenex and duct tape and ear plugs and syringes and megaphones and prayers and steadiness and string and a level head and Scotch tape and the ability to mind-read to start to put all this crap back into some kind of order.  I'm the one who makes sure everyone has on their water wingies, when I can't even swim.

I'm the Magic Act.  There are half a dozen or more items up in the air right now (including a couple of chainsaws, and some things aflame), things will be ugly and every bit of any blame will be laid swiftly and heavily upon me if the act doesn't go…

Bah Stomachbug

Of all the sentences in all the books I've ever read, this is probably my favorite:
"Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind-stone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!"
For the last couple of days, my stomach has squeezed and wrenched and grasped and scraped at the mere thought of, not to mention the actual consumption of, food.
My tummy hurts, nothing I eat or drink stays in me very long, and I have a fever.  That's basically what I'm saying.

Breaking Bread

Bridget expressed an interest in the tablecloth I mentioned last time.  To re-cap, whenever someone eats with us in this house, I use this tablecloth and have them sign and date it.  They write with pencil, then I embroider to make it permanent.  And, yes, Hannah and Briton got to sign when they were old enough to write legibly:

This is actually a "tradition" --- my mother did this same thing.  When I moved into my first apartment, her housewarming gift to me was my own blank tablecloth.  That's exactly the sort of thing my mother would think of, and it sort of choked me up.  One of the things I was very sure to get from the house after she died was her cloth.
As for colors, I embroidered with whatever color the person was wearing at the time.  Sort of a double, triple way to remember.

Kathy Asked Some Questions

Which I will answer here.  Feel free to answer them yourselves, in the comments section here, on your blog, or simply in your own head.
1. Favorite way to show your Holiday cards off? I tape them around the door jamb leading into the dining room.
2. Music solo:  Piano or violin or guitar? Guitar.
3. Fingerless or mittens? Fingerless
4. Tinsel or garland? Garland.  Tinsel strands are such a pain. When I was little, the sight of discarded Christmas trees, naked but for tinsel, made me kind of sad.
5. Ham or Turkey? Turkey.
6. Snowman or Santa? Oh, the guilt that comes with not saying "Santa"!  But I have to go with snowman.
7. Brunch or Dinner? Completely dependent on what is being served.
8. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping.  Hands down.
9. Placemats or tablecloth? Both.  Though I have a tablecloth that I have guests sign when they eat with us.  I embroider their signatures;  it's quite a keepsake.
10. Candles or fire in the fireplace? Fire.  You can't beat the crackle and the sme…

So, I've Been Thinking

About Blankapalooza.  For those of you new to the class, Blankapalooza is 2016's year-long project for making squares, that will be sewn into blankets, that will be donated to deserving charities.  These are the "rules" so far:
1.  Squares are to be 6" x 6". 2.  Squares may be knit or crocheted, and the stitch design is up to you, though colors will be "assigned."  If your preferred craft medium is fabric, you are more than welcome to send some squares.  Cross-stitch, embroidery --- I'd say anything but painted fabric may be used, and will be appreciated. 3.  Each month, I will provide three (3) color prompts so you will know what yarn/thread to use.  The prompts will come on the 3rd, the 15th, and the 27th of each month. 4.  Finished squares can be sent to me at any time during the year.  If you want to send them monthly, or quarterly, or wait and send them all at once, they will be received gladly. 5.  No one is under any obligation whatsoever …

Ten Things I Truly Enjoy About the Holidays

1.  Christmas Eve.  It's my favorite day of the year, because everything is done, and you can just sit and anticipate.  Also, there's a quiet that night like no other quiet any other time of the year.
2.  Single candles in windows.  This is, by far, my favorite Christmas decoration.
3.  Lights in general.  Christmas lights make me happy.  When I was little, there was a family up the street from us --- the Lewises --- who put green lights on their house every year.  It was SO pretty.  From those big hot bulbs that burned hot to today's mini LEDs in shapes and srings. . .  I love them all.
4.  The blessings of Hanukkah.  Actually, I like everything about Hanukkah, but the nightly blessings as each candle is lit move me.  
5.  Wrapping gifts.  I should be very much over this after all those years working at the jewelry store, but I still enjoy picking out paper, coming up with new ways of "bowing" the packages, and ways to fake people out by putting tiny gifts in b…

Swing and a Miss

You'll recall that, along with the canned dog food Chewy.com sent us to try, there was a full-size sample of freeze-dried salmon pet treats:
I'm sorry to say that no one here was interested in trying them.  I did not offer one to Madeleine, since she is on the controlled diet, but the answer from everyone else was a definite "no."
Each month, I receive products from Chewy.com.  I "test" them with my pets, and provide true-to-life reviews of our experiences with them.  There is no financial compensation whatsoever for these reviews.

Chewy Gets One Right

Last night, I offered Rupert, who has never eaten canned food in his life, some of the  Merrick Venison Stew sent to us by Chewy.com.
He cleaned his plate.  I was curious about his reaction, as he's been a dry food guy since Day One.  But he liked it.
The only issue was that I had to cut the large cubes of meat into smaller pieces so that he could eat more easily.  Now, that won't be a problem for other dogs, but for us, it's just a teeny time-consumer.
As always, I volunteered to review Chewy's products, and am not receiving any compensation at all from the company.  Each month, I simply report what my pets' reactions are to the products.

Potential

So, yeah.  The food thing is definitely in the "This IS going to work itself out eventually, right?" stage.  Every time I go into the kitchen, Madeleine meets me there, meowing constantly.  One of the other three usually joins her, and they are not singing lovely, endurable harmonies.
One of the times in the kitchen was to make this for all-day nibbling.  I didn't know "ovenable" was a word.  It makes me even more troubled that "emoji" was named the Word of the Year.  Did the committee even consider "ovenable"?
My monthly Chewy.com trial arrived today.  Look at the size of this box: Inside a case (yes, a CASE) of dog food: Chewy.com doesn't send little samples.
Also, dog and cat treats I feel bad about not being able to test these out on Maddie.  But I can get solid opinions from everyone else, I'm sure.
I've been knitting Barbie clothes, which has led to seeing Ken clothes patterns.  So, I had to find the Kens.  Or the Ken and …

Conflict

As established yesterday, Madeleine is home.  She lost no time launching out of the carrier and getting right back into the swing of things. 
 Lily and Erin had to sniff around her a little bit before they got it, but she was patient.  Riley is the least excited about The Return, but she and Maddie have always had a hissy kind of relationship.
Rupert?  Rupert's pretty much, "Oh, was someone gone?" "Yeah, buddy --- Madeleine." "But she's okay now, right?  Cool."
The feeding schedule is already proving tricky.  Who eats where, so Maddie can't get into the "normal" food.  Feeding only twice a day, 12 hours apart, to cats who have free-fed all their lives.  Lots of meowing going on.  The three sisters are not happy.




And, Once Again,

everything's as it should be.

Now and Then

I got to visit Madeleine today.  She has lots of tubing going in lots of places.  But she seemed glad to see me, and was rolling over (by leading with a head rub on the floor) for tummy rubs by the time I left.
She has been shaved in all sorts of spots for the tubes and the ultrasound.  Her electrolytes are back in balance, she's happy to eat (liking both the canned and crunchy foods they've offered her), and the plan is still to ease off of the IV and start on insulin injections.  Ideally, she'll come home Thursday!
I wish I had a photo, but my telephone camera won't focus.  SO inconvenient.  She's still in ICU (where cameras probably aren't allowed anyway), with two other cats.  One, in the cage next to hers, looks just like her.  In fact, I said hello to him when we first walked in.  He looked much more ill than Maddie.  She looked tired, and a little bored, but it didn't take her long to realize it was me.  It was hard to leave her, but I can see her a…