Plodding

 Feeling not so green today.  As I found, um, evidence of Tap not feeling good either this morning, I have to think that that chocolate milk of mine that I caught him drinking must have been off.  I've only been able to eat little amounts of stuff today, but it's all stayed in.

Briton is still testing positive.  He sounds better, but not being able to shake this is taking a toll.    Weekend plans are still unclear, and I realized today that my Christmas spirit, which had been good, is gone.  Utterly gone.

Feeling Puny

The GIF sums it up.  Urpy digestive system, from beginning of the system to its end.  Maybe food poisoning?  I can't say.  Or even stay out of the bathroom long enough to consider the question.

Happy Holidays, everybody!

 

Whuddaya Do?

Briton is feeling, "um. . . better?"  He said he's going to take another test tonight to get some idea of what his week will --- and won't--- be.

He didn't sound as drained as I had thought he might, but he didn't sound hale and/or hearty.  He's bored, as he can't get his PS4 to work, and even he can get tired of watching movies and TV.  That has left him time to wallow in his own head.

Did I tell you he overthinks EV. ER. EE. THING?  It's part of who he is, but a parent feels exponentially worse when she doesn't know what to say anyway, then has what she does manage to say  corkscrewed into negatives.  

But it isn't about me.  

But it kinda is.

Well, If That Don't Beat All

 Briton tested positive for COVID this morning.  We talked last night, and he said he was feeling a little off, but when he woke up this morning he felt much, much worse.

I'm surprisingly calm about this.  He, on the other hand, admits to feeling much worse emotionally than physically.  He is a Class A Overthinker.  OOOOOOverthinker.  I'm sure he's wondering what he did "wrong," how will he make up hours at work, did he get anyone else sick, and on and on and on.  I may be setting up for my usual good in the midst of issues, only to crash when everything is done.

It's still out there, folks.  I hope you haven't packed your masks away.

Just Show Some Pictures

 If you can't think of any words to type.

House's cane ornament.

Boxer angel ornament in honor of my childhood dog, Lupo.  (Named after one of Daddy's Army buddies.)

Pekingese ornament to remember Rupert and Shanghai, who became my stepdog when Dale and I got married.

Santa and sequin tree in Yoda's usual place on the hearth.  Yoda seems okay with it.

Candy Cane Crush tea from David's Tea.

A Lladro-looking, but certainly not a Lladro, Nativity.

Oh --- that spurs a memory.  For the longest time, as a child, I thought a "virgin" was some type of curve in a road.  "'Round yon virgin. . ." sounded like directions:

"You wanna visit the New Baby?  Just go 'round yon virgin.  You can't miss Him."

True story.

Luxury

I've been knitting hats to give the UPS, FedEx, and Amazon drivers that bring us stuff year-round.  Even though I don't knit them on double-points, hats usually go fairly quickly for me.  Last night, a new one went on the needles, using a pattern for the second time, and I found out that, even though there are exactly the same number of stitches as the first one, this 3x3 ribbing is going so much faster than the 2x2 I did before.  Why is that?  Also, this one is in mohair, so the time saved on the ribbing is probably being taken up with stopping to squeeze the yarn now and again.  Mohair feels so good, doesn't it?

Another photo find: a two-year-old Briton with his first pair of boots.  Snakeskin.  Granddad did not play around.

Quick Hits

I cried five times during the Army / Navy game today.

The Navy's NASA helmets were way cool.

Publix has beautiful commercials.  

The Home Depot commercial with the little elf gloves makes me smile every time.

I have decided that skeins of yarn, a pair of needles, and a card that says "To Be Continued" or "Check Back Later" make an adequate Christmas gift.

Can't Drive a Stick

 I cannot find my gear today.  Cannot get going no matter what I try.  But here's something.

Unfinished, yet I sort of like the symmetry of it.

A Little Carryover

 That baby in the previous post (the human baby) has grown into this man:

And in among the cat photos, this wonderful one of Barrymore:

We Need to Talk About Abraham

 Well, we don't need to, but we're going to.

This is Abraham.  Abraham Jennings, or Abe-J, or, to Hannah, O-Abe.

He had the loudest purr I have ever heard.  Just a motor.  He joined us to become a little brother to Barrymore.

Barrymore was our first cat and, I'm unashamed to say, still the gold standard for me.  They got along brilliantly.  They were both very chill and low maintenance, despite their luxurious coats.  I don't remember a single fight;  maybe just resigned sighs if they had to figure out a way to share napping space.  Barrymore was bigger, but Abe could claim a good-sized area.

Abraham also got along with other household members:

That would be a baby Briton, in the Kanga-rocka-roo he once launched himself out of.  Abe (resembling a flatfish) looks a little impatient for his stocking to be opened.

A Direct Order

 From a superior (in many ways) officer.

 I shall follow it.

New Thing

I tried a persimmon today.  Before today, I wouldn't have been able to point out a persimmon if lots of fruit were arrayed before me.  I ordered one as part of my latest Misfits box, and I don't know if the one they sent (and I tried) was ripe or what.  My overall review: meh.  Not awful, not astounding, but again, I might not have eaten this one at the height of its flavor.

It Starts

 December, I mean.

I've decked a wall:

That's my desk, spun around and with a Nativity on its back "ledge."

I probably show these ornaments each year, 

and probably also tell you that the pajamas Hannah had on were the same ones I wore for my first Christmas.

This is my new Nativity for the year:

I took this picture so that I can refer to it and put all the pieces back in correctly when Christmas is over.  Down in the right corner, notice Baby Jesus crying, or practicing His scales, or making scary ghost sounds, or something. 

Of course there are feathers.

Back when I was making cross-stitch ornaments every year, I made this one in honor of our gray Persian, Abraham, who died that year.

I need to find a picture of him to show you.  He was a piece of work.