hand eye crafts

I have been very weepy, quite forlorn, for at least a week.  The slightest thing --- from all parts of the good/bad, happy/sad spectra --- has sent me into sobs.  It will suddenly be 7 or 8 at night, and I realize I've just been sitting on the couch, staring, for the whole day.   On Wednesday, though, I was able to break out a pair of cowboy boots for the first time this year.  I wore them to therapy. That helped for a little while.

The first Pope I remember is Paul VI: I remember his as small, thin and "pointy."  He had become Pope when I was 3, and was in "office" until 1978.  I'm sure we watched his funeral, as my mother loved  pomp and ceremony.   I remember the election of John Paul I, because I was old enough (18) to watch/realize what was going on. I thought, at the time, that Pope John Paul had done a remarkable thing in choosing his name.  I also felt he had a kind and calming face. John Paul's death was startling.  I recall senses of turmoil and disbelief and worry.  The next Pope, however, ameliorated all of that, almost immediately. John Paul II smiled.  He had charisma.  And, possibly my favorite thing about him, he wore a watch.   Honestly, now --- who thinks about the Pope having to check the time?  It seems like there would be a Cardinal of Time, am I right?  And he skiied .  Very unlike the two Popes of my memory....

None of my cameras are working.  The one on my iPod will take pictures, but not e-mail them.  The one on my phone won't focus.  Ever.  And the actual camera takes pictures. but when I attach it to the computer to download them, nothing happens.  So, my posts, for a while will have odd pictures, because they are the only ones I have access to. This is a particularly bad time for a camera ordeal, as I just gutted my etsy store.  It needed newer descriptions and --- of course --- better pictures.  Hopefully, things will come together somehow.

Sitting here yesterday, I caught a little chill, so I went to get my robe.  I put it on, sat back down on the couch, and immediately  felt like I was getting sick.  That wasn't true, but I found it interesting that my body's reaction was, "She's putting on a robe --- she must be ill."

I have a tiny age spot on my right hand.  It's my first one, and it's bothering me more than I would have thought.  Keep in mind, this is the hand Finn attacked --- there are bite scars all the way around.  But this one little brown spot is distressing me to no end. I keep having a dream in which I'm trying to teach Dale Earnhardt, Jr. to knit. He adamantly refuses to even try. My reading momentum has come to a dead, screeching halt.  The book here on the coffee table is enjoyable, but it's simply not gripping me like the half dozen or so before it.   I've "adopted" a horse through Humanity for Horses .  Each month, I pay for a bale of hay for her. Her name is Ava Gardner.  I confess --- I chose her because of her name.  Whoever comes up with the horses' names there does a magnificent job.  Check out the website and see.

The milk and silk yarn has been reassigned to this: It's called "Nussler's Ribbed Loop," and can be found on Ravelry.  Easy, but pretty, and it buttons together, so there's the additional Good of being able to look for those.  Buttons have always been fun for me, even when they weren't all whimsical and shape-ish. The first Drea has been finished.  There isn't enough definition between the stripes and the solid section as one might want. but I knew that when I chose the yarns. I'm on to Drea Two with the colors I showed you the other day. Today, I've been working on/with the Scoreboard Knitalong today.  I'm using gold and black for Vanderbilt, obviously.  Fortunately, those colors work for the Steelers, my favorite NFL team.  I'd have to break out red and blue for my Titans. I'm in a bit of a predicament when it comes to knitting overall.  My fingers have been really, really aching lately, which makes knitting very ...

The Arrowhead Cowl is no more.  I lost control of the pattern, and I am hopeless at correcting in-the-round mistakes.  So, the yarn went back to the ball.  If I have to rip a project apart, I very, very  seldom ever cast on for the same thing right away.  I don't know why, really.   Also, if I have difficulty with a pattern, I'm unlikely to return to it.  I will probably never make an Arrowhead Cowl because this one went badly.  Again, I don't know why that is.  But it's as if I am physically  unable to read the pattern, or move my hands and fingers. Rupert, ever stalwart, commiserates.