The Well is Dry...

I wish I could tell you that things were back to normal, that all is well, that (maybe) we have a new doggo, that everyone was fine. 

But it's not, we don't, and we're not. 

The good news is that we made it through Holy Week and Easter. The bad news is that some promises got broken, feelings were hurt, and frankly, I'm so dry of inspiration that I could be in the middle of Death Valley and not even notice the scorpions approaching... 

All my girls are home, and even though my BFF says this is creepy, this is where they currently reside. Everyone does their thing and I'm not going to lie - it does give us some comfort. It's actually only coincidental that all the urns match. Hence the collars. I wanted to get matching memorial stones, but I think the company that did Tippi's went out of business because I couldn't find them. Anyway, we re-did Raisa's and did Quinn's via a company out of England. You can see Quinn's at the far right. The middle one of Raisa was one I got off Etsy and frankly, I didn't like it. So Raisa's & Quinn's match. One day, when we actually have spring and summer, I may put everyone's stones out in the rock garden. 

This may be my most "ugh" blog entry ever, sorry. But what comes out of my fingers comes out of my fingers...I didn't want it to be that way, but that's my whole writing process.  

The Knitting...

The "over-use" injury to my left hand is, if nothing else, getting worse. But I started knitting again - I have deadlines to meet. However, I've started to time myself. I can do about an hour with a sock-weight yarn, and a little less with a bulkier yarn. Sounds funny, but think about it --- the size of the yarn determines the heaviness of the yarn and the project. 

The baby blanket is done. I took a picture, noticed a dropped stitch and said something nasty. We're gonna have to bless this one! The good news is that since the yarn was held double, the dropped stitch (in the middle, natch...) wasn't a total disaster. I was able to pull through using that same color and weave in ends. Not gorgeous from the back, but from the front, invisible. Hubby, once his own grief-fog lifted somewhat, said to me, near the end of this project, "What are you knitting?" 

He never asks... Anyway. I showed him the project, and he actually said the colors were "really pretty and bright," again - usually, I get a "looks fine" from him. 

Mind you, I am NOT complaining. He's fantastic when I want to match color. As many long-time readers may know, he's got a great eye for color and often comes up with things I'd never think of and voila! They work. He and my mom have that in common. Anyway, he thought it was really cool, and I ws going to use that green variegated with some lime green yarn for a baby hat. Held singly, though, because double it is kind of substantial, which is good for a blanket but not what you want for a hat for a baby. 

Again, 8-hour baby blanket pattern (available just about anywhere) using Encore Worsted - 4 balls. This particular colorway is 2 of a solid and 2 of anything else. I tend toward using a solid and then a tweed of that same color family, but pickings were scant when I went to the yarn shop. So this is what I ended up with and it's really growing on me. 

I also have a fleece blanket planned for this little one - one side a gorgeous pewter grey for the bottom, and a wild tie-dye for the top. Did I say that I didn't like "traditional" baby colors? 

I don't. I'll knit that if I'm told to do so (and sometimes, if it's a relative particularly, and they know they're getting one, my mom will tell me if the nursery is "trad" or not). Otherwise, I'm doing jewel-tones, high contrast, etc. It's more fun and less boring. 

So after I finished this, I got some PurlSoho Echo Cashmere (95% recycled cashmere and 5% other stuff)... and am doing a Simplicity Scarf. I caught a sale on the yarn, and it's a purple - looks kind of heather-ish, and knits up really nicely. 

Good stitch definition, soft in the hand. The color is very rich; it's a nice deep purple with little tints of the 5% "other" in different tones. I'm doing the longer version, so that was a cast on of 375 stitches. NO WAY was I going to "guess-timate" the length for the long tail cast on, and I only recently came across a reasonably accurate cast on calculator (read on for that link). So I did a knitted cast on. It was interesting to work with that again. I've done that technique to add stitches in the middle of a project, like for my simple baby sweater. 

But never that many stitches. Actually, the beauty of this was that I could just knit along for a while to get the movements into my hands, and then I could stop and count. It does take a while to do that many stitches. 

I was able to knit outside on the porch yesterday (Easter Sunday) because it was nice outside. Today, it's about 10 degrees colder, and we're looking at the potential for snow by Wednesday. Welcome to April in Illinois!

Anyway, I'm doing the large one, which is 6" from the cast on edge. I've got about 2 1/2" in, and because it's so freaking long, it does take a bit to finish a row. 

I can do about 4 rows and then I have to set it down for a while. 

For the life of me, though, I'm having a mental-pause on the knitted row. I cannot -- just CANNOT - process the M1L. Do you know how many of those I've done? Not quite a zillion, but pretty close. But for some reason, this just isn't sinking in. I've watched Very Pink Knits You Tube. Every. Single. Time. Call it long Covid brain or just The Other Thing. But I just can't manage to remember how to do it. 

As far as the long tail calculator, I'm linking this video - please take a look and if you're interested, sign on to get her info. Purl Together is another source I do like. That's the fun of the You Tube knitting community - you can really find some great resources. 

The Injury...

Well, I was wearing the brace, doing the compression gloves, using lidocaine and some special "pain ointment" as well as Tylenol, red light, and ice (not simultaneously!). And there's a lump in my hand right where the thumb is attached to the wrist. It's just not going away. 

Fair point, I'm not exactly resting it. I mean, I'm not slinging horse crap, but I do have to work. I'm also not doing much yoga (again)... I did one class of a 3-class workshop I was taking, because I can't put any weight on it. Unscrewing a toothpaste tube is not fun. Bending or flexing is not fun. Needless to say, I picked up the guitar to practice for Good Friday ("Were You There") and it was a big old nopity-nope. I couldn't bend my wrist enough to get the chords. 

So I made another appointment for the hand person. End of this month. I'll let you know. The good news (I'm trying, really...) is that the last time I saw the NP, we had an X-ray and the screw where the thumb is fused is just gorgeous and in place right where it should be. That was something I was really worried about. 

I'm working with Tom Myers' energy trains and trying a hand massage to see if that helps. 

The Other Thing...

A long time ago, when I was in graduate school, we took a class in our HR module where we did testing for various things: the Myers-Briggs, a few other "what do you want to be when you grow up" tests, and some screenings. 

At that time, I was going through Some Stuff. One of which was my dad in the process of dying. It was just a few years after we'd moved back home, and the kids were just getting to know their grandparents. Life sucks. 

Anyway, I remember after doing one of the screenings, the instructor looked at the results and called out, "I need to see Number XYZ" (we were all numbers so the results were anonymous). That was me. It was quite sobering because the instructor told me that the screening clearly pointed to significant depression. Not the "I'm just sad and out of sorts" stuff, but clinical depression. 

I did talk to my neurologist and tried a couple things. Nothing seemed to work. And I'm complicated. I've mentioned it to my GP and my cardiologist and all 3 docs came to the same conclusion: I'm complicated. Because of meds I take for my heart, which really don't play well with the meds I take for seizures (thanks again, Covid), the combo there would be pretty difficult to balance with anti-depressants. Which have a host of side effects, which include seizures and some wonky thing with heart rhythms. 

Oh joy. 

Which brings us to now. I'm in a rough patch. I will cry at the drop of a hat. I can't sleep. I'm comfort-eating. I can't distract myself. My fuse is so short as to be nearly invisible, which is not cool. I have a sharp tongue -- that's not part of the depression. That's just who I am and I have to be very careful. Words can hurt. My filters are fading a bit, and I'm scared of that. 

I was able to pass off a lot of this due to work stress -- working at a church during Holy Week and Easter without a priest and with a bishop's visit pending? That'll curl your hair. Lucky for me I'm already totally grey... I've snarled at my kids and at Hubby. I haven't talked to my brother in a while, and I'm avoiding him. He'll want to know what's going on and I don't think I want to scare him. I did do a slight snap at someone at church. There was a personality conflict and I basically said, "Not my circus, not my monkeys. You two work it out now. " I think they were expecting sympathy. Sorry - I'm fresh out. 

There has also been some static in situations involving volunteer work, and I find that I'm no longer "the coolest head in the room." I am just so freaking tired of drama. And that's not the usual "can't we all just get along?" thing... This is "I really, really can't deal with you people anymore." And that bothers me because I am picky about where I volunteer and each place has a lot of meaning for me. 

I need to find a therapist. My problem is, I know a lot of them. Personally. And I don't want to talk to someone I know as a friend or socially. I know all about confidentiality and that sort of thing, but we're all human and I don't think I would feel comfortable taking a deep dive into my psyche with someone I know. 

So I guess I'll ask my friends for some referrals. I am also not comfortable just taking a look through the Yellow Pages (yeah, I'm that old...). 

In the meantime, I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe it'll pass. But more likely, it's time I tackled this head-on. I can't keep doing this. The older I get, the more I see how I'm actually cheating myself. Enough of that. 

The Garden...

So it's April 1st. And Mother Nature is in a mood. Yesterday, it was gorgeous, as I said before. The hyacinths are in bloom, the Monster Bleeding Heart has started to bud, as have the lilacs. The lily of the valley is pushing up shoots, and the lavender is greening up, as well as my beloved Icelandic Poppy. I can see bits of bee balm and a few things I can't quite identify yet, but I'm also trying to convince Hubby to do No Mow May...to leave the yard unmowed till Mother's Day. Or at least a chunk of it...to let the pollinators come out of their hibernation. 

And Wednesday it might snow. Of course. 

As I was knitting, I needed a break, so I got up to take pictures. I figured that if this week's weather took everything out, at least I had evidence that it used to be there. Along the north side of the front yard, we have a row of day lilies. I think I want to take those out, replant as many as I can along the front of the yard, and then plant some bushes for Raisa, Tippi, Quinn, and my sister. We hadn't planted anything for her and Tippi - and we usually do plant a memorial thing. Both of them died in cold weather, and by the time I was able to plant, I was laid up with the hip thing and couldn't go out and pick something out for them. And now they're all gone, so it's time to do something. 

Hubby has talked about removing the 2 lilacs at the end of the sidewalk - he thought he planted them too close to the sidewalk, and neither of us thinks they'll survive a transplant. We keep them about 7 feet tall, but they do overgrow sideways and one has some pretty bad suckers. 

So maybe we put a couple lilacs on the north side, then some forsythia at the end of the sidewalk. Those you can trim up nicely and they'll still look gorgeous. 

I'm still not sure about the veggie garden. I'm thinking small. Hubby's not sure about one at all - and admittedly, he does most of the veggie garden stuff. I do the flowers. So we'll see about that. 

Easter on Palm Sunday...

Regular readers know that we do things differently. We do the major holidays (except for Xmas Eve - that's in concrete) the Sunday before. So this Easter, we had an interesting mix of lasagne, salad, garlic bread, chicken enchiladas, and fruit. We did the lasagne and garlic bread, and for The Vegan Kid, I did donuts - which I didn't bring to the house. I knew the family would scarf them down. So I put together a little Easter basket. I'm not sure they made it home, but that's not my problem. 

I also did vegan stuffed peppers. I bought orange ones (on request) and stuffed them with a mixture of farro, mushrooms, kale, chives, spring onion and celery. I had extra filling, so I brought it -- and they ate it... My brother managed to take a pepper home, and really enjoyed it. 

Obviously, that picture is not the stuffed peppers. We have these large catering pans, and we took the 3" one and made a 5-layer lasagne. With smoked provolone, mozzarella, sharp Italian, and Parm, along with several pints of our own home-made sauce. THEN my niece tells me that she and her oldest kid are cheese-intolerant. Well, not totally intolerant. She ate it and so did the kid. They just said they would have a "good tummy ache." Oh well. Now I know. Guess maybe next year we skip that. In my defense, the chicken enchiladas also had cheese...And they did know we were going to have lasagne, so if you don't speak up, you get fed what I cook. I'm happy to turn over cooking duties for once, but since there are usually only crickets when I suggest that? Deal with it. 

The vegan donuts were with the help of my friend's Baby Cakes donut maker. I must have one of these. I had asked her to borrow a donut pan (the recipe is for baked donuts, much easier and less messy), and she said, "I'm bringing this - you're gonna love it!"

Oy. I do. I made 2 varieties: an apple spice, dusted with cinnamon sugar and a chocolate dipped in a chocolate glaze. They're so stinking cute! I used a chopstick to remove them from the pan, it makes 4 at a time, and it's about 6 minutes per batch. 

I did bring some leftovers to church and they were gone. Heaven knows they're super easy to make, so I may end up buying one and then doing that every so often for coffee hour. 

Random Picture...

A number of years ago, we went to Europe. We traveled to Lyon, France, and went up into Switzerland.

It was Hubby's first time over there, and my second (a graduation trip to Greece in the ancient days...), and we had a blast. Everyone asks what we brought back for souvenirs, and it was like, "5 memory cards full of pictures!" I did bring back some lavender from Provence, but customs searched HUBBY'S suitcase, not mine. Go figure! 

Anyway, have I talked about that 2-part scarf project, finally completing it? This is the blue part. I told you it was one of my longest-running WIPs...it was around 2013. I took it everywhere I traveled, and back then, it wasn't uncommon for me to travel a lot. Workshops, trainings, fun travel...this scarf went with me everywhere. It was my travel project. Notwithstanding the fact that I used a circular needle, the TSA let me take it on planes (you really can hurt someone with those needles, but who am I to argue??). Here, we were waiting for our parasailing adventure and I had it in my bag. The scarf hit both France and Switzerland. For the brief time we were in Italy (a drive-through) I wasn't knitting. 

I would love to plan a trip again. Maybe to see the Northern Lights. Or the North Pole before it melts. A girl can dream. I just have to find the right travel project. 

Quinn Unn Gerda

Saturday will be 3 weeks...And I still find myself sifting through memories. Buckle up, grab a beverage and settle in. Here is The Story of Quinn.

A little while after we got Tippi, we got news that Quinn was in need of a home. At first, my sister said she'd take her, so up Hubby went to get her. I was recovering from hand surgery, and Tippi was still getting used to us, so...that's how that went. It turned out that Quinn wasn't all that fond of men. And she took quite some time to adjust to our mainly-male household. 

I have a clear memory (though no photo) of Kid #1 trying to hand-feed Quinn, who was hiding under the dining room table. Ultimately, she was not only an EPIC foster-fail, but she feel in love with ALL THE GUYS...She definitely overcame her fear. I'm pretty sure our friend and facilitator of this "foster" knew in her heart that it was going to "fail." 

Quinn had her personality challenge, let's be honest. She was a snot. At that time, we had Tippi and our red husky, River, who was a retired show dog. Tippi wanted NOTHING to do with Quinn. (I know - Tippi was hardly "mother of the year.") River, taking a look at the situation, and assessing as a Husky would, swatted Quinn upside the head and then pinned her down with The Husky Paw of Pain and Quinn -- surprisingly -- fell in love and was devoted to Rover for the rest of River's life. (that is her sharing River's space - they often slept close to each other)

Quinn was our snuggle-bunny. She loved getting right in the middle of where the people were. She loved her "kids" and she loved to sit on them. Yes. ON them. She also found "under my chair" her favorite space. As a puppy she could get her whole self under there. As she grew, it was eventually only her head. For a good 12 years, I was never able to recline that chair - at least without checking first to see if she was anywhere near it.

She would bark. And bark. And bark. She was capable of at least a two-octave range. She sounded like we had at least 3 MORE dogs!! Her favorite perch was a little stool we placed at the front window, just to save the window's woodwork. Everyone knew Quinn. Everyone...

She also loved to challenge her place on the couch - it was usually between me and Hubby. If we dared to sit close to each other, one of two things happened: She either sat in front of us and stared, aternately, at each of us with that special, piercing Elkhound gaze -- till we gave her space. OR -- she jumped up alongside whichever one was in the middle part of the couch, and then wormed (bulldozed) her way between us. It was always a question of which one of us would get her butt in our face. When I had my hip replaced this past summer and Hubby helped me do home PT, she was right there on that couch, touching me in some way, and making sure he was taking care of me properly. 

She went through all 4 levels of obedience, and attained her Canine Good Citizen. She never really had the temperament for a therapy dog; and that was fine. She was who she was. 

Her worst nightmare was the awful curse of sebaceous cysts that she suffered with. In the Elkhound world, we've all had that discussion - we wish Quinn would've been one of those who "grew out of them," but sadly, she was plagued. Sidney was able to take on most of that care -- my job was holding her head and telling her she was the BESTEST GIRL while he did what had to be done. Needless to say, she was not happy when she had a bad flare up. Otherwise, though? She was the healthiest dog. She had beautiful teeth till she died. Her smile was contagious. 

When we brought Raisa into the house, we were still a happy band of three till Raisa hit her teens (around age 3-4). Then, she and Quinn? Not good. To be honest, I had several long conversations with the late, great Steve Chester...a giant in the rescue world; his advice saved my sanity more than once. We were a gated community until Raisa's untimely death in September 2023. Quinn suddenly became an "only dog," and to be honest? I don't know that she liked it. And sadly, she didn't have much time to adjust, since her diagnosis of advanced lymphoma was in October 2023... Definitely not divine timing.

Her other love, aside from snuggling and dressing up in weird hats and costumes for Howl-O-Ween, was running in the snow. None of us is a fan of the current snow-less winters, and we took complete advantage of the dog park when we got blizzards. Nobody else in town was crazy enough to join us, so we had the park to ourselves. Sadly, there were never enough blizzards for either of us. 

She was our "perpetual puppy" -- she always looked younger than she was, up till she was about 12 years old. She was alwas skinny -- "Skinny Quinnie" was just one of her many nicknames. She was always active. I remember trying to teach Tippi to go up a ramp to get into my truck. I had both dogs out there. Treats on the ramp. Tippi went up far enough to scoop up 3 or 4 treats. Quinn just went airborne, leaped into the truck and looked at me as if to say, "Ok, treat, please!" Both of them entirely missed the point of the ramp. Elkhounds....what can you do??  

She was a leggy girl, with a cinnabon tail, and a rogue-ish personality. She had three tricks in her arsenal, and that's what you got. She loved to dress up, stalk Hubby for toast, play with her Kong bone, and she used to jump up and sit on my lap in my chair (all 60 pounds of her) -- she would do that till she was about 12 years old. I had to make sure to pay attention, because she didn't care if I was knitting or not. When she wanted up, she wanted up. She loved frozen blueberries and cheese, and from a dead-sleep, she could tell which one I was opening up and she'd be right behind me before I knew it.  

Almost 14.5 years. Wasn't nearly enough time. We miss her.

And Then There Were None...

 Quinn Unn Gerda

11/2009 - 2/2014

Our beloved Norwegian Elkhound Warrior Princess has earned her wings. We knew from the diagnosis in October 2023 that she was not going to have a lot of time. She gave us more time than the vet (and we) expected. Because that's how she rolls -- rolled. She was just shy of 14 1/2 years old. 

I'll write more later, once my brain settles down a bit.