Not Ribbed For My Pleasure...

I really hate ribbing. I mean HATE it. Those 12 rows may as well be 1200 as far as I'm concerned. 

I hate ribbing as much as I hate the 4th of July weekend. As I type, there are boomers going off. One dog is in the kitchen, relatively clueless. The other is in the bathroom, somewhat heavily medicated, and will be even more medicated in about 2 hours or so, when it really gets nuts. 

Anyone blowing off illegal fireworks (I'm in Illinois - if you're not a professional and it's down the block from me, it's illegal) needs to be fined. Not only for blatantly breaking the law, but for being a bass-pole and a dirtbag who doesn't care about their fellow neighbors. 

It's not only the pets. It's the folks with PTSD. The people with sensory disorders. The veterans. The livestock (where I'm at, there's a fair bit of livestock). Go visit any of the 4 or 5 towns which are having lovely, FREE displays of fireworks. It's safer, you don't have to worry about drunks, and you get to keep your digits. And those are over by 9:45 or 10 p.m. 

Last night it was 1:30 or so and tonight it'll be even later. I expect these shenanigans to go on all week. 

I get upset because these are the same people who complain that their water bill is going higher, their garbage bill goes up, or whatever. I have no sympathy. None. You blew your wad on pyrotechnics that you shouldn't have had, and now you have no money? Tough bananas.

And the other thing? It's always the same people. It's always the house one block over and up, and one on the end of our block. The town knows this. They choose to do nothing. 

And -- we're in a drought. Yeah, it rained the other day. Not enough. So maybe we wait till the houses catch on fire? Sounds like a solid plan. 

The Knitting...

So the detested ribbing is done and I've completed the first row of the leg. This is the second sock of the Petty Harbour pair. My hand hurts, and I have learned to stop when it gets cranky. Otherwise, I'm off knitting for a while. 

This weekend (I'm already thinking of the weekend), I think I'll go ahead and frog the Long Sands Tee. I will have had my first outpatient PT appointment on Friday, so Lord knows how sore I'll be Saturday and Sunday. 

As far as I'm concerned, I'm going to try to stay monagamous to the socks till I have the pair done. I feel like I want to finish stuff. So Long Sands is going to have to be in time-out for a bit anyway till the knitted yarn relaxes, and till I can wind up a few of the hanks that haven't been caked yet. 

That gives me time to make a mis-matched pair of the blue striped socks, since I don't think I can lay my hands on the pattern of the one sock that's finished. I may (go ahead, get ready to laugh) do a 4x2 rib on the second one. I think the first sock is something like an 8x2 rib, but I can't find the notes, so I figure if I get it "close enough," nobody's going to mind. 

And I might start a trend. Not only of fraternal twins, but of "almost" the same patterns. Who says it might not be a new thing? 

The Hip...

Things are progressing. I am FREE of the TED hose! One week post-op, I showed the nurse the marks on my left thigh, just above the knee. She was not happy, because the skin was being compromised. We didn't want to risk an infection so she determined I was very low risk for blood clots and off they came!! 

My skin is lizard-like, and I can't get around to my left foot yet, so that's been interesting. I've also started to sleep on the incision side. I checked with the PT and the nurse and they said it wasn't going to hurt. The hip is in there; it ain't goin nowhere... It's more building up your mind that it's ok. And I'm a left-side sleeper, so there's that. Even if I stay there for 3-4 minutes, my MIND says, "OK, we can move to the other side now." It's all a game. 

Physical therapy is doing well, except I'm not having fun with the hip flexor stretches. Your hip flexors are the muscles right in the crease of your hip, so if you sit down and place your thumbs at the very top of your thighs, you're close. My left side got really jacked up with the hip injury, and I was walking very bent over. Well, that's gotta be stretched out. And it's not happy about that. 

I have my last day of in-home PT on Wednesday, and then I go to outpatient. I'm off all the pain meds, and I have been "let outside" on my walker, with a companion and a gait belt. I'm also using a cane in the house.

So that using a cane thing... Wowza. I was using TWO canes pre-surgery, just so I could take the weight off the bum leg. Now, though, I have to use ONE cane to just lightly support the now "remodeled" hip, and bear more weight on the left hip. It's a real mind-trick, and has been an interesting adjustment. 

The other exercises, I can do pretty easily, thanks to some pre-hab work I did and just an overwhelming urge to get this therapy behind me. 

But that walking with a cane does have me slightly wobbly. I can tell how far my balance has been affected, and how much work I have to do. 

I have been practicing my Tadasana (Mountain Pose), just to straighten up my posture and get that balance back. 

I have a helper. We have a massage table, which has been a blessing for the PT, as it's firmer than a bed, and easy to adjust. And recently, when Hubby was helping me do the exercises, Quinn hopped up on the couch next to me to help. I have to tell you, it was a nice relaxing treat. I didn't think she had it in her. She's always been a snuggler, but this was deliberate - she  came up to where I could reach her, put a paw on the table and moved so that I didn't have to reach too far. Hubby said that I actually relaxed my leg more as I was petting her, so I guess she's hired for my in-house therapy dog for as long as it takes me to get this hip back in order. 

The Reading...

So aside from having a problem with my Kindle, which I will explain, I am reading Evelyn Waugh's "The Loved One." It's the book upon which the movie was based, and the movie is as camp as it gets. 

I'm enjoying the book, which is a skinny little thing considering how long the movie is. 

The book is enough like the movie that I can follow it. I love the skewering that Waugh gives the whole Hollywood scene, and he does it so lightly and completely. 

I was able to borrow this book from Kid #1, and I have to admit, I'm getting the vibe I had when I took "As I Lay Dying" on a plane trip... this might not be a book which you'd want to take as a travel book, but then again -- maybe you would. It would certainly start a conversation. Or stop one. 

So, the Kindle problem. I love Agatha Christie. I have a bunch of her mysteries on my Kindle and I noticed that the last 3 of them which I purchased had a problem with the downloads. It wasn't just me, because looking at the reviews/comments, this problem seems to be pretty consistent. It's as if all the "Alt" characters: *%&$^#@)>< -- all of that stuff just appears randomly in the text, making the books impossible to read. 

I complained to Amazon, which may or may not accomplish anything, but it's annoying because I paid for the books, and I cannot read the books. 

I'm not sure if it's an off-shore place which is digitizing the books. But I can tell you that when I was working in publishing, I had several projects in which I had to clean up stuff like this. 

I'm hoping that there's some resolution. But I'm not holding my breath.

The Shed...

So everyone always asks, "how much do your dogs shed?"

Here's a PART of ONE side of Raisa. 

As you can see, she is NOT amused. She is one of the few dogs I have had who doesn't like to be brushed. She grumbles, but tolerates it. 

Even Quinn is shedding more this year. 

When I'm asked, I always say, "Twice a year, six months at a time." My mom grumbles about her dog's hair (a puggle) and I just laugh. 

As long as you keep on top of it, it's not all that horrible. I did have one husky who liked to be vacuumed, which isn't all that common, I can tell you. 

So this is the "summer shed." There'll be another in the fall when their winter coats come in. Don't even try to figure it out - it's just how it works. 

Random Picture...

Talk about a throw-back. This is River. She's my first red husky. She's long across the Rainbow Bridge, and this was when we had the "perfect pack" of River, Tippi & Quinn. Quinn was so attached to River. 

She came to us just after Topaz (my black & silver husky) died, and was a boon to our then-first elkhound Gracie, who went into extreme mourning after Topaz died - so much so that my neighbor thought that BOTH dogs had passed. 

River was a retired show dog. She would have been the dog I trained to be a therapy dog if I had the job flexibility. This was after she was diagnosed with glaucoma, and before she had Cushing's Disease. 

She was definitely the queen. She had a presence; even people who were afraid of big dogs were drawn to her. I miss her.