Thank You, Jo, Judith and Lily

My Judith & Lily order arrived yesterday.  First, some alpaca that practically melted in my hands as I unwrapped it:

 

Second, a stitch sampler I'm aching to start, but have to get some other things taken care of before I can:

Could that be any cuter?

Where You Are

Lately, I've been consumed by reading.  Maybe it was going to happen anyway, maybe it's because my choices in books lately have been very, very good.  For whatever reason, I'm being taught wonderful lessons.  Some pretty "academic," like why orchids are called "orchids,"* or that caterpillars turn into a kind of goo as they transform into butterflies.

Other things, phrases, bits of knowledge have had me jotting down lots of notes.  I mentioned the other day that Michele Harper's book had given me the way to think about forgiveness that made me finally grasp the concept for myself.  After that, she pointed out that no one can treat another human being any better than they treat themself.  Profundity accepted.  Then, just now, as I finished the book, she gave me a new life motto.  It will join

"Even cowgirls get the blues"^

and

"Life is short, but it's wide."

It is

"First, it will be challenging, but then you'll be free."

*From the Greek orchis, meaning male genitalia, as that is what the flower's roots look like.

^Sometimes.

Space. And a Sock

One sock done.

Second started.

For a while now, the books I finish have been stored on the staircase.  After finishing the last couple, though, I was down to the last step, so some thinning and re-"shelving" was called for.  The result:

And, yes, here by myself, the stairs are also a storage/display for some of my boots.

Teary

I have been extremely weepy lately.  I'm reading a book by a doctor that has moved me to tears several times already, and I'm not even halfway through.  She has given me the definition of "forgiveness" that I've been searching for.

Watching John Lewis cross the Pettus Bridge one last time.

Hearing "It Is Well With My Soul" sung for him, and us, in the Capitol Rotunda.

Seeing his family members go to the casket.  I've had to say my last goodbyes to both my parents through closed caskets.

If You Line Up Enough of These One-offs, It'll Look Like a Post

Over on Facebook, I asked people to tell us about local small businesses, hoping to help them out.  My dear, dear Jo linked to Judith & Lily, a yarn store.  I just placed an order;  you might want to check it out, too.

BTW, my contribution to Help Small Businesses is Avid --- Athens' fantastic independent bookshop.

My AC woes necessitated a service call Friday.  That service call led to the discovery of mice under the house, which led to another service call Monday.  Sheesh.

Both Athens hospitals are at capacity, as new COVID cases ave tripled in the last few days.  This without the thousands of UGA students not yet back in town.

Mereknits led me to the emPower People project.  If there's anything I have, it's purple yarn.

The book on genetics that I'm reading just let me know that the first person of European ancestry to be born in the Americas was a Viking named Snorri.  Snorri.  Those Vikings were inventive namers, and also scrupulous record keepers.  Else, Snorri would be unknown to us.

'Round Here

Shari sent me this adorable little hedgehog.  How cute is it?!

I've been having air conditioning trouble, so choosing how to spend time has included factoring in the amount of movement anything would require.  Crosswords and making a sock fit that bill. 

Also, I'm reading two very different but most engrossing books.

A novel
and

a thoroughly entertaining piece of non-fiction.

I hope you're all staying safe, masked, cool, and entertained.

The Sun Will Come Out

My life over the last week has been mostly about Hannah and Klunk, so there isn't much else to say.  I don't have any photos.  Hannah and I picked Klunk's ashes up yesterday, and she came apart again.  She is absolutely gutted, and there isn't anything for me to do except let her sit with her sadness.  I do very much appreciate all your kind words, though.  Most of you know the misery of losing a pet, and some of you know the agony of watching a child in pain.  They're both brutal.  Thank goodness for understanding friends, good books, and knitting.

Product Placement

Enough odds and ends have accumulated in my brain to make a post.

I discovered a wonderful candle company, DW Home.  The fragrances are strong without being overpowering, and some of them come with wooden wicks, which crackle as they burn.  It's such a nice sound.  I'm enamored with the gardenia scents, obviously, and can strongly and fully recommend any of the candles that have "honey" in their names.

  Also, I've found out about bare honey coconut chips.  Amazing.  Amazing.

A friend sent me a tiny jigsaw puzzle:

The label, as you can see, is in Japanese, so I don't know how big the finished picture will be.  There are 234 pieces, and in the tube is a pair of tweezers.  Yes, the pieces are that small.

Aftermath

I'm trying to let Hannah have grieving space but also checking up on her occasionally to make sure she isn't over the edge.  She came completely unglued Tuesday night, blaming herself for not doing enough, for not being there when Klunk died, and every other irrational, illogical thought you have when you are wounded and confused and so desperately sad.

It all happened quickly.  Within half an hour of giving him his nightly dose of medications, his breathing sounded ragged, and Hannah knew he needed to get to the doctor.  The coronavirus protocol at the offices is for staff members to come to cars and pick up the animals, while the owners wait in the parking lot.  Then the doctor calls to let you know what's going on.  That night, the calls went from bad to worse.  Eventually, Hannah wasn't able to talk to them, so I navigated the last hour and a half or so.  He had had to be sedated for something they did, so at least he wasn't aware of what was going on, wasn't suffering at the end.

Yesterday was my day to cry.  Today's been my day to have the after-all-the-crisis-has-passed -and-after-doing-all-that-crying headache.  Hannah sounds a very tiny little bit better, but even that comes and goes.  She still blames herself.  She still wonders why any of it had to happen, why her life just can't go "right" "for once."  There's not a lot you can say to things like that.  You just have to listen.  And trust that The Universe will hold her tight.  Softly, but tight.

As of about four or so hours ago, the world is Klunk-less.  Hannah is shattered. 

More On That

Honeysuckle

Leather (new if boots, old if tack)

(Continuing the Smells I Like list)

I have had a headache for four days.  Now, I have miserable headaches all the time, but this has been crazy.  As in, even if I've been able to get to sleep, rolling over during the night sent a shock of pain all through me, waking me up.  And made me feel like I was going to throw up.  At this point, I'm just tired of the whole thing.

Reading (of which I've been doing A LOT) has been out with the headache.  I'm recycling back through my jigsaw puzzles, working them all again.  I can do crosswords for a few minutes at a time.  Knitting-wise, I finished a shopping bag I'd been working on, seamed it together, and crocheted a cord for its handle.

It's a linen/cotton blend yarn held doubled.  It's going to snag like a big dog, but I'll live with it.

Fingers crossed for tomorrow.

Sense #1

When I stepped outside around Noon today, I could smell someone's charcoal grill.  One of my favorite smells.  Others:

Gardenias

Rain on hot pavement

Tomato plants/vines

Play-Doh

Crayola crayons

A clean baby

Onions being caramelized

Freshly-mown grass