For the love of GOD...

...just for ONCE could we be like the Repubs? Could we make a plan and stick with it? Can we have consistent messaging? Can we rein in our rogues who think it's fine to just blather away without regard to the fallout from their word-vomit? 

I'm so over the Dems getting thisclose to something and then blowing themselves up. We are going to be fine. Fine, I tell you. Because we outnumber them. We are angry. We are passionate about human rights, and we do NOT want to be ruled by a king. Or a madman. 

Get out, check your registration, and vote. Work the polls, become an election judge, work for a candidate. Write postcards. Show up for candidate forums. Join the League of Women Voters (it's not just for women) -- a grassroots organization which empowers voters and specializes in voter education and registration. While the tagline says "defending democracy," it's the idea that this country was founded as a democratic republic, not to be ruled over but to have a participatory government of, for, and by the people. 

Is it perfect, this democratic republic? Nope. But is it better than a fascist country run by a dictator? Um, yeah...especially for women and those who are not conforming to the "white guys rule everything" scenario that's been our lot for far too many generations. 

Women especially: If you haven't looked up Project 2025, do it now. Read it. Because the MAGA whack-jobs that want to put a demented orange fart into the most powerful (thanks SCOTUS, we wanted to get AWAY from a king...) position in the world, and while they're at it, they want to strip everyone of their rights, get rid of a free press, and allow a president to act with impunity. They plan to use the Comstock Act to restrict our rights to our own reproductive freedom. This act was made law in 1873. Quoting Bette Davis in her memorable film Jezebel, "EIGHTEEN SEVENTY THREE, dumpling!"

And it gets worse from there. It's time to get up off your butt and be that change. This is NOT the year to figure that "someone else" is going to do something. You know what? WE are "someone else" here. 

The Knitting...

I bit the bullet. I am currently knitting an Emotional Support Chicken, the latest knitting craze. I'm not a "craze" kind of person, but this one? I think maybe I need one. In any event, I'm making them for Xmas gifts. 

I have a bunch of yarn that I had stashed from making all the baby stuff, mostly Encore Worsted, which is what this chicken calls for. You can do just about anything - any color combo, any arrangement of the colors of the yarn in the different parts of the chicken. All you have to know is short rows - or wrap + turn. There are a LOT of w+t parts here. 

The above is just a bit of my Encore leftovers. Though I did buy the pink variegated and the red sparkly. I need the red for the comb & wattle, and the pink is for one of the gift chickens. I have safety eyes coming from Amazon. And I'm now kind of sad that I got rid of a boat-load of Polyfil because each chicken takes about a pound and a bit. 

My first impression was that I should have been paying attention. I ended up grabbing some grey worsted, but it wasn't worsted. It came from my friend's stash, and was going to make a nice base color - except that it was bulky. And I started knitting anyway. I wasn't quite paying attention to how you attach both sides of the tail bits, so that got frogged. I figured it out as I was trying to pick up and knit on the long side - which didn't look very long. Duh. So I decided, since I also don't have as much of that bulky grey as I thought I had, that this chicken was going to be more pink variegated. I'm doing the part from the body to the neck in the pink. Then instead of stripes at the neck, we'll switch to the grey for the head. 

It's going to be as big as a regular chicken, to be honest. The pattern is written clearly, and there's a really comprehensive tutorial on YouTube that I've been working with as I move through each section of the pattern. 

Knitting hurts... After I finished that beaded Qiviut cowl, I knew I had "over-knitted" on the left hand. It's always had a tad bit less strength than the right one - not because I'm dominant in the right hand, but because the thumb fusion causes me to use my hand slightly differently than I would if the thumb was fully mobile. 

I ended up going back to Dr. Mass, who put both my hands back together, and thankfully, I caught him between retirements... I ended up with a Kenalog shot - basically thick steroids that usually last longer than cortisone. If this doesn't help (and knock wood, so far it has), I need an MRI and he said, "we'll see what's going on."

Funny story (well, it wasn't funny at the time): I had had a cortisone shot (which I believe I talked about here) about 3 months before this, and the doctor at that time said I was "very brave," but yeah - you're sticking a needle into my VERY numbed hand. It's easy enough to sit still. 

Dr. Mass doesn't do numbing. Yes, he is actually THAT good, but his assistant/intern handed him the wrong needle. We went thru the whole shot thing, and no Kenalog was coming out. It's very viscous and takes a larger needle (sorry - I'm just as squeamish and I lived to tell about it!). He hands the needle back to his assistant, and says, "get me the bigger one." Apologizes to me, fusses at the intern, and gets the bigger needle. And does it all again. With no lidocaine and a LOT of Lamaze breathing. I felt it going in. I mean, like felt it spreading into the area he was aiming the needle into. I told the intern that he was not getting Xmas cookies... There was also a lot of ice and liberal use of compression gloves. Tommy Copper for the win, I have to say. So far, it's been doing its job and I'm not swelled as bad as I was. I can at least sleep in peace, use my hand mostly as normal for my yoga practice, and I can knit for a reasonable amount of time without pain. 

It occasionally comes back, but not as bad. And then I set the knitting aside and read a book. You really have to do that. Hand health is a thing. I do regular hand yoga and I make sure that I stop what I'm doing periodically and get up and stretch, flex and extend my fingers, make a fist and let go, and rotate my shoulders. It all helps. Set a timer if you have to, to make sure that you set aside your keyboard, put aside your needles, or whatever you need to do to make sure you give your hands a rest. 

The BlendJet Saga...

Ok, so this is such a First World problem. But it was an issue and I had to get obnoxious. Shocking, I know. 

Last November(ish), I bought two BlendJet blenders. One for my friend J in a Minnie Mouse design, and one for me, in a garnet red design. Gave J her blender and then got an email that the blenders "may" be under a Consumer Protection Agency recall due to a safety issue. So we checked our serial numbers, and yes, they were. I sent them both back as per their instructions. And waited. 

I did ask them to replace J's unit with a matching one, since it was a gift, and about 3 weeks later, she got her base back. 

Not me. First, they had "supply chain issues," which was a common excuse post-Covid. Then it was "first in, first out" - which I thought I was since it was literally 2 days after the recall notice that I sent the forms in saying our units were under the serial numbers listed. I sent them in not a week after receiving the notice. 

Months went by. Months with no communication, and only 1 more email saying, "We understand, but you'll get yours when we get to you." I looked at Facebook and found a BlendJet group where I found I wasn't the only one left hanging. 

Cut to June. Seriously, 6 months. To get a base for a blender. I wrote an email. It was quite a scorcher, in which I asked them to either replace the entire unit or give me a refund so I could go buy a Ninja, which seemed to have far fewer problems and better customer service. I told them that if they just left us all hanging, they'd experience just the drop in customer service ratings as they had and that they essentially did it to themselves. 

I got an email back saying that they apologized, and "knew that you were anxious to start blending again," and lo and behold... 2 weeks later, I had a brand new blender lid and base -- in the lovely Galaxy color, since the ruby red was out of stock... I think if they'd have sent me ANYTHING at that point, I'd have been shocked. And there were additional concerns that people had expressed that, once they got their replacement bases, the entire unit still didn't work. 

Luckily, mine works. I keep it at the office so that I can do a quick breakfast shake or lunch shake when I don't want to have a heavy lunch. 

I have a perfectly fine VitaMix (refurbished) at home, but it's clunky and hard to clean. And for some reason, I haven't been on the usual vegetable smoothie kick. I need to get back to making a batch of smoothies so that I don't have to fuss a lot. But for now, the BlendJet is doing nicely. The point is, that since I'm not making batches of smoothies, the big blender is a pain for just one breakfast smoothie. I was in the habit of making 4-6 servings and consuming them during the course of a week. But when I started doing singles, the "shaker jar" was ok, till I wanted to add more bulk to the smoothies. Then, the shakers just weren't powerful enough. I thought the BlendJet would work, and so far it has. Recall aside!

Mind you, I didn't swear or threaten in my email. I just gave them a lesson in customer service and used a healthy dose of snark. Worked for me!

The Garden...

Well. The wildflower garden is succeeding beyond my wildest dreams! The three different varieties of lavender are spectacular. I can't smell a thing, but every bee in the neighborhood has found our house. The coneflowers, Prairie Blazing Star, chives (that we let go to flowers) and the hanging baskets have all provided a haven for bees -- and my SECOND batch of caterpillars on the parsley. The black swallowtails are visiting their abundant "nursery" and laying more eggs. As I was taking pictures tonight, there must've been 6 or 8 bumblebees whizzing past and around me as if to say, "excuse me, I have a flower I need to get to!" as they swarmed around the lavender and the chives. They seem to have left the coneflowers to the butterflies, but they do enjoy the purple salvia too!

I've been out with the "big camera" - the 35mm Canon Rebel - and taking some pictures and having a blast refining my ability to play with depth of field. It was quite rusty - or *I* was quite rusty, but somehow, it's all falling into place this time. I have to do some judicious editing - cropping and expanding to get the full picture of the bees, but I do have some great shots. 

We had a storm blow up. And I mean BLOW up. I had gotten up for work, and was sitting in my chair near the picture window. It didn't seem right, though, and I looked outside. It was like it was 9:15 p.m. outside. I took a few quick snaps with my phone, but they looked "normal" since my phone has pretty much automated settings in the camera app. 

I brought out the Canon and this is what I saw - which is what my eyeballs saw... Yeah. Luckily, it was
just black, and not green. Those of us in Tornado Alley know the difference. The temperature dropped a good fifteen degrees, and while I was in my bathrobe (drives Hubby nuts, but I'm more covered than most people are...), I felt the first big raindrops. 

I know this looks like a black blob - but blow it up and you'll see how dramatic it was. The "edge" on the right is my white gutter. 

The rain and wind came fast and furious. The streets flooded, the water had whitecaps as it rolled down the street. I thought we'd lose the hanging baskets and hummingbird feeders. And the garden flags were definitely horizontal on their flag stands. And then the hail came. At least dime-sized. 

But thankfully, it eased up in about an hour and I was able to get to work. It rained all day off and on that day and the streets at my office did the same thing - it was a pretty good soaking rain, which we needed, but it would've been nice without it looking like the sky was falling. 

For those NOT in Tornado Alley, when the sky turns green - and we're talking "split pea and ham soup" green, with that yellow-ish cast, and the air gets still and the hair on your arms starts to stand up -- you're about to get hit by a tornado, so you need to take cover. A blue-black sky is simply Mother Nature having a ginormous hissy fit. 

Random Picture...

This is our first 4th with no doggos. I'm sad. And I do want another one - which is strange. But I do. But I'm glad, listening to the neighborhood pyromaniacs, that we don't have one right now. 

The neighborhood is hopping, though I know it'll be worse tomorrow - probably all day tomorrow. 

These same people will scream bloody murder at the cost of gas and the cost of groceries. They'll blame Biden and the Dems for jacking up prices, instead of handing it back to the big corporations who are gouging prices and getting away with that AND not paying their fair share of taxes. But they're blowing up hundreds of dollars. Seems like their priorities are a bit ... off. 

Anyway, I had a late night - or early morning - last week. We had a film crew out shooting at the church. I was the "onsite coordinator," which wasn't necessarily on my career radar, but hey - I'm a Liberal Arts graduate, I can do anything. 

The crew needed night shots, so they started at 4 p.m. and went ostensibly till midnight, but they ran over, as one does in the movie business. I got up out of my chair around midnight to see how the boys were doing, and they were doing the final outside shots. I took this picture of our church, as it was all lit up from the inside. We have a beautiful building, and you can feel the history in it. It's a magical place. 

They were extraordinarily thankful and respectful of our space. When they were outside in the front, all the lights were turned the way they were needed and a few of the crew were maybe a bit louder than normal for midnight, and the producer said, "Hey, this is a neighborhood and people are sleeping!" They quieted right down and got down to business. 

The director said they'd be another "little bit," which turned out to be closer to 2 a.m. They were all standing outside in their hoodies and freezing, and I'm standing there in shorts and a shirt, since it's a lovely 68 degrees outside. I don't know what they were feeling, but seeing as they were from north of Chicago, I was a little perplexed. 

After we cleaned up the church (I helped because it was just easier), I left about 2:30 a.m. and got home at 2:45 a.m. It's not uncommon for Hubby to get up at 3 a.m. to get into the office at 4 a.m. -- so I honestly thought I'd run into him coming out to go to work! Needless to say, I took the next day off. 

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the preview of the movie, and when I can share, I will do so. This isn't our first go-round with the film industry, and we're happy to be the site for films as long as they're respectful of our space and our neighborhood. 

Meet My Little Friends...

No, not dogs. Unfortunately. I keep thinking it's time, but Hubby thinks not. And to be honest, he'd be doing most of the work, since I still have an outside-the-home job and teach 3 nights a week. One day, the right circumstance will come. It will all fall in place. 

In the meantime...meet my little friends, the Swallowtail caterpillars. They've invaded what has to be my most glorious crop of parsley ever. I have 6 on there right now, and I've had a steady stream of the little munchkins since I planted it. 

I honestly think that our crazy 'what season are we in?' weather has helped, because the pot of parsley is just about the prettiest thing in my garden. 

I will admit to obsessively checking the parsley and shooing birds away. But they've actually been more interested in the cicaidas, and have been leaving my little buddies alone. The pot is right alongside some very tall lavender, too, which is partially blocking them from the birds' view. 

Next year, I have to get my dill going again. They prefer that, but I haven't seen mine in a few years. 

The Garden...

Speaking of -- I think we're in good shape right now. I have several hanging pots that are going along nicely, the wildflowers are coming up like crazy and the pots of lantana are adding big spots of color. Two pots with some good-sized purple salvia, tomato plants with blooms starting, and the HUGE bags of potatoes...looks like we might have a garden here. Along with the pink flamingo decor all over the front yard. So sue me -- I like a bit of kitsch. I added some more solar lights, along with the fairy lights in the mason jars. 

I did a little magic with spray paint. My mom gave me a trellis for the church's rummage sale and it was kind of rusty. I figured it would end up tossed, and on a whim, I got some spray paint and sandpaper. I also had the well-worn glass bird bath (along with 2 new solar fountains) that needed some TLC. 

After sanding the yellow + rust trellis, I also grabbed the gazing ball stand and gave that a lick of sandpaper. And I up-ended the glass bowl of the bird bath and whipped that up with some fine grit. All the sanded things got a good wipe-off.  

I got matte black, hammered copper, and a kind of paint called "Illusion." So I sprayed the black matte on the trellis, the gazing ball stand and the metal legs that hold up the glass bowl of the bird bath. Let that dry, and then I sprayed SEVERAL coats of the "Illusion" on the trellis and gazing ball stand. When you look at it, it's like a purple/green/blue irridescent. Really pretty. I left the bird bath stand black, but I probably should have done it as well. 

I turned the glass bowl over, with newspaper under it, and gave it several coats of the "hammered copper" spray paint. I didn't quite get the "hammered" look, but I'm ok with it because the bowl itself has a lot of texture on the underside. If I had had my wits about me, I'd have done a light coat of the irridescent FIRST, and then the hammered copper. That would've been kind of cool! 

Anyway, for about $28, I refurbished THREE items that were showing their age. And I decided to keep the trellis. It's sitting right behind a pot of lantana. 

Potatoes Everywhere...

The potatos are huge. Bigger than I thought they'd be! The plants are top-heavy, so we're tying them up. I thought, "Put stakes in there" and then realized that I'd probably skewer some spuds. So we're just hoping they don't topple over in the next big wind. We're set for a tumultuous summer, if you believe the weather folks. Bigger tornadoes, more derecho-type winds, noisier thunderstorms. Yikes. 

I'm hoping that big plants mean a delicious harvest. My dear MIL (and I mean that - the woman was a saint) grew them in her garden. But that was in MT, where dirt is dirt... Here, dirt is the 2" or so of black dirt they put on top of the clay. And Illinois actually has some of the best growing soil in the Midwest. My town, however, has a streak of clay running through it a mile down! 

Meet My Tumbler...

Not THAT "Tumblr" -- My net compost bin lasted for several years. Likely, because it was protected somewhat by our shed, it lasted a bit longer than it would've otherwise, but it went to "Compost Bin Heaven," wherever that is. I got a tumbler, and when we were transferring the compost from the bin to the tumbler, I saw WORMS!!! Yippeeeeee!!! That means that, hopefully by the end of this season, I should have compost. Hubby can dress the beds for winter and it'll season even more. 

It's a small one, but it's still heavy to tumble - no crank. Just Me-power. So it's an additional source of exercise, as far as I'm concerned! 

Even though you fill the thing, by the time everything decomposes down to its final stage, you get about a third of the capacity of the bin. Which is fine for us - we don't have a huge garden. In fact, I'd even take it down to one or two raised beds (we have 3 currently, and we didn't bother to plant them this year either). 

I still want to take the back yard to red clover instead of grass. It's more environmentally friendly, the huge maple in the back kills off most of the grass anyway, and the patio, parking pad, shed and dog pen kind of take up the rest of it. May as well make it one less thing to mow. I think if I can do that in the back, eventually, we can do it for the front as well. It's barely discernable from grass, and it'll kill off the neighbor's creeping Charlie. 

The Great Cicada Invasion...

It's just about done. At least here. In my town, we only got one of the two species, and not a lot of them - which is weird because my neighborhood is old and there are some older trees, which the critters prefer. In spots, they seemed pretty thick, but it was nowhere near as bad as where I work. There, the robins were lining up in front of the tree in front of my office and one-by-one were flying at the tree to pick off their breakfast. It was pretty funny to watch, if you think about it. Robins aren't always known for their manners. 

Where I work is just across the river, and they had BOTH species. It was so loud that, even on days when I was running the AC, I could hear them. One of the little buggers got into the house. Hubby grabbed it and tossed it back outside. Ugh. I know - they're harmless. But they're gross. 

And I realized that the range of tones I hear in my head (tinnitus) is the same as the noise they make. Wonderful. A symphony all year round!

It's done for now, and I think we're just about back to normal. 

The Felon...

Speaking of bugs...I was relieved that TFG has been convicted. Jurors unanimously convicted him of 34 felonies. And then, to top off the jubilee, Steve Bannon has to report to prison on July 1. So. Much. Winning. 

What does frighten me is Project 2025. That cannot be allowed to stand. My great-grandparents left Poland to come here because they were tired of being invaded by Russia (which Putin wants to do again...which the Poles are NOT jazzed about). TFG would have us withdraw from NATO. He will bury our rights as women to our own healthcare decisions and there's speculation that he would consider taking more rights away from women. 

I want to know how many abortions he's paid for. 

I want to know why women would even CONSIDER voting for him or anyone of his ilk. 

I want to know when we will have a balanced Supreme Court that we can trust again. 

What I do know is that, in spite of the odds, TFG is finally getting the comeuppance he's needed for his entire life. 

What I do know is that his own LAWYERS approved of the jury. So there's no blame there. No "rigged" jury. They all saw the same evidence, and they all came to the same conclusion. 

He's getting interviewed by his parole officer prior to the sentencing on July 11. And I hope that he gets some time behind bars. Martha Stewart got time behind bars, as a first offender, for insider trading. And she's actually a millionaire in fact. TFG is a billionaire only in his twisted mind and that of his followers. It's a cult as much as Martha was. But Martha didn't have the nuclear codes. And Martha doesn't have dementia, which is looking more and more likely with TFG. 

July 11 will be the day we know if the justice system will follow through. It seems as though the MAGAts are melting down, but lo and behold, HUNTER BIDEN. That poor soul got convicted of gun charges that one in a THOUSAND people wouldn't be convicted on. But you know, ya gotta "own the libs," so you want to humiliate the sitting president because Diaper Donnie and his Delulu Disciples are ... nuts. With Hunter getting convicted, the MAGAts are kinda caught up short because their Farting Leader can't be portrayed as a "victim of a witch hunt" because....well, THEY are the perpetrators of their own witch hunt. President Biden isn't going to pardon Hunter. He said he believes in the rule of law, and it is what it is. His son did indeed do what he was convicted of, and even though most of those types of things are pled to a lower crime or just fined, Hunter may well have to serve prison time. There was a plea deal and (I know, you're as shocked as I am) that fell apart when the judge appointed by TFG said she wasn't ready to approve the plea deal because of how it could affect "other crimes he had committed or could have committed." So when do we have "justice" meted out for what we "might" do? Talk about witch hunts... Here's a link to the NPR article discussing it. 

With any luck, so will Cadet Poopypants. If a judge can jail Martha Stewart for insider trading (first offense, I might add, so do not come at me with that pathetic excuse), then TFG (as a CONVICTED first offender -- this is not his "first offense" by a long shot) should get some time for trying to rig a federal election. 

Hip-A-Versary...

I'm coming up on one year for the hip replacement. Happy anniversary to me! I still haven't gotten on a bike yet, but I'm hoping to do so this summer. And I'm not back to the stables yet. But otherwise, I'm doing well in terms of moving around, doing about 90% of my yoga practice -- I knew I'd have to break up with some poses, but that's ok -- and being able to stand for longer periods of time without feeling like I need a nap afterwards!

Random Picture...

I made a butterfly bath...or maybe a butterfly watering station. I guess butterflies don't take baths. On advice of a friend who's involved in prairie restoration, I took my bird bath at work and created a little place for the butterflies. 

I had seen them in gardening sites, but I wasn't sure whether I wanted to do that or put a solar fountain in there. She brought me some rocks, and told me the best way to arrange them, and after playing with it, this is what I came up with. 

By putting a pile of rocks near the larger piece of flagstone, you give the butterflies a place to perch where they can stick their little noses in the water to take a sip. It's a nice idea, and I'm looking forward to seeing them figure it all out. 

Adjusting to the Silence...

So it's been a couple months. And I'm still waiting to be greeted when I walk in the door. I still listen for the turn, turn, turn on the dog bed and the PLOP as Quinn drops into her comfy spot. And I still reach for the stick blender and turn, wanting to see Raisa ready to sing. I look at the leashes every first and third Tuesdays, figuring it's time to suit up to go out to the university. 

People wonder when the grief goes away, and on our "loss of pet" group, the constant question is, "When will I feel normal?" The answer is: Never. You never really do get over the loss of a companion animal, whether you refer to it as your furry child, or your soul animal. They leave a void in your heart and a mark on your soul. 

Which is why it's so freaking abominable that Governor Noem (my hands want to type out MORON) in South Dakota is bragging about killing - executing - a puppy and a goat. The puppy (14 months old) "didn't hunt" and the goat "smelled." Well, doofus --- TRAIN the puppy, and bathe the goat. Executing them in a gravel pit doesn't make you "able to make the hard decisions." It makes you an utter psychopath. Who shouldn't be allowed near ANY living thing, much less allowed in politics. And don't come at anyone with that "farmers/ranchers" BS. Every farmer I know (and I'm living in the nation's Bread Basket) would've rehomed the dog and hosed down the goat. But guess what? GOATS SMELL. So do pigs and horses and sheep. And most ranchers who've been shredding her on social media said the same thing: if the dog doesn't hunt, you train it -- and for God's sake, it's a PUPPY. They can't even process. They have instincts, yes, but they need focus and training. And if the dog still has no instinct for hunting, you rehome it or it's a pet. 

My uncle, a dedicated hunter, had a Springer Spaniel, Rags. That dog was nuts. He hated gunfire, he hated wet. He was allergic to grass and weeds. He was as useless as a 2-legged milking stool as a hunting dog. But he could bark. He could play with the kids. He was essentially a pet. I have no idea of his bloodlines, but my uncle was persnickety about his dogs. He tossed his hands up in the air and said, "I guess I've gotta get another dog that'll hunt." He didn't take him out to the quarry and shoot him. He kept him his entire life (the dog's - my uncle is still around). 

As I sit here contemplating what my next adventure with animals will be, this woman who thinks she's going to be the VP for that orange excrescense at the top of the MAGA party, is being flayed, as she should be. Karma is a bugger, you miserable excuse for a human. 

The Knitting...

I got my replacement Baby Camel yarn (exchanged for the Eco Cashmere that was defective) from Purl Soho. It's lovely! And it perfectly matches my vintage camel coat. So I think I'm knitting cuffs for the coat. I've wanted to for a long time, and I couldn't find a good match. Well, this could've been made for the coat! I'll do a 2x2 rib, and they'll be lovely! The sleeves on the coat are just a tad too short, so the cuffs will be a welcome addition. 

I'm still knitting on the Eco Cashmere Simplicity Scarf, but I set it aside. I have news....

No. No grandbabies...

I have yarn. (yeah, I know, I have STASH). My friend D gave me TWO "medium" sized moving boxes and a 35-gallon tote full of yarn. She's doing her Swedish Death Cleaning, and has moved away from knitting (yes, I know - seems impossible), though she's still knitting socks. And she asked me to help her get rid of her stash. I can keep whatever I want, sell whatever I want, but just get rid of it. There are some partially completed projects, which I will likely frog. She doesn't have the patterns -- and half the balls don't have ball-bands. There are also needles and some books. 

Anyway, I'm going to keep a bunch of it. There's some beautiful CoBaSi which looks like it was headed for a fade shawl, and a lot of sock yarn. 

I'm also working on another pair of socks. She has Opal, and the Love Story colorway just makes me smile. So I've started on a plain pair. There's enough for several pairs of socks, and I can add the partial balls to my "franken-sock" stash. Or make a shawl. The All Used Up Shawl (and the cardigan) could be a great way to stash bust all my odds and ends. 

I still haven't fixed the dropped stitch on the baby blanket, but I'm going to get to it. I have time. I also need to whip out a little hat, so there's that to finish and then the fleece throw which is going to go with this gift. Or maybe I'm not doing the fleece throw - that's still up in the air. 

The one thing that's been occupying my time with the boxes of yarn from D is the untangling.

I'm one of those weird folks who really enjoys untangling yarn. Some of the balls are better than others, but this cotton blend needed to be untangled and washed then re-wound. It took me a while, and after I got it untangled, I tied it in a couple places and used some Eucalan to soak it. Hung it on the shower and let it dry for a few days. I just need to re-wind it at some point. I know what this is, but I can't recall the name - so I want to do another shawlette, because I think that's all I have enough yarn for. Maybe I'll use a bit of a larger needle and just stockinette stitch. 

The Injury...

OK, so. The hand isn't fixed yet. But I did end up going back to the doctor. And I got TWO steroid shots in the left hand. It was as amazing as it seems. Not. Though she is good - I was really numb and didn't feel a thing. At least till the numbing spray wore off. Then, it was as if my hand was on fire! It's eased up somewhat and I'm feeling the effects of the steroids. 

I also made an appointment with the surgeon who fixed it in the first place - thankfully, he hasn't retired! The doctor said that she thinks the tendon that was wedged into my wrist has "broken free of the capsule" and that the swelling may be permanent, which affects my range of motion. I can put more weight on it, so that's good...but again, the biggest reason I dislike steroid shots is that they allow me to do stupid stuff. I did buy some blocks that had shapes cut out so that I can use more of my palm. Because that left thumb is fused at a 2-degree angle (for function), I can't flatten the hand. And sometimes, I don't get quite the right placement on a block, but with these blocks I ordered, the weight is more in my palm, which is a bit safer for my thumb. The screw is exactly where it's always been, but I don't want to risk it. 

So I figured that I should see the surgeon and figure out what we can do. Or not do. But it's worth the visit. Hubby wants to ask about the "lifetime warranty" on the surgery! 

The Garden...

The potatoes are in. I'm getting some repellant for the tree-rats (squirrels)...the stinkers are digging up my potted plants. I tried cayenne and red pepper flakes. They just scurry over to the bird bath, drink up and do it again. 

I have celery rooting in a bowl - we'll see if that comes to anything. I have grown celery before, out of starts from the greenhouse, and it's amazing the flavor you get from home-grown celery!! 

I have a couple baskets of petunias out front, and they've survived at least one mild frost; they're magenta with lime green edges, so I can't wait to see what the hummingbirds think. I have lantana in 2 pots, cosmos + Dusty Miller in one pot and a big pot of dianthus. Waiting to see what else I can pick up; I need at least 2 more hanging pots - maybe 4. 

We're looking at a tiny veggie garden this year, as I may have mentioned. Romaine, a couple tomatoes, a pot or two of parsley (at least one for the butterflies!). Very simple. 

It was a busy morning today; out in the compost area twice already, and I made some ham and bean soup with our own herbs. My mom wanted some, so I made it; she and I are the only ones who'd eat it, so I got half and she got half. Good deal all the way around. 

The Reading...

Aside from a current addiction to Lord Peter Wimsey, I've started "The Body Keeps the Score" by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD. 

It's pretty deep. Very technical but also readable. I've heard from folks that it's a book you can't really plow through, and I can see that. It takes me a couple chapters, maybe, and then I have to put it aside. 

I'm also still working through 1Q84, about 50% through that one. It's fascinating and reads smoothly, even with the time jumps. 

When I need to rest my hand, I turn to my books. 

A Bittersweet Birthday...

So we recently celebrated my newest grand-niece's birthday. She's one. And it's bittersweet. She's the granddaughter of my late sister. One of the relatives hugged me and said, "It's so nice that you're the fill-in." I know they meant well, but boy, that cut. I don't WANT to be the fill-in. I want my sister here. And she's not. And there's still a huge hole in my heart. 

The little one is in the "daddy's girl" phase and it was so funny to see all of us turning ourselves inside-out to make her smile, only for her to rebuff all of us pretty consistently. 

Eventually, she'll come around. Babies do that. 

Unfortunately, I ate some things that didn't agree with me. Well, I take that back. The cheese sticks VERY much agreed with me....to the point that I should have just walked away. I adore a good fried mozzarella stick, and these were wonderful! Oh, I did have salad, so there's that! I think Hubby and I were definitely in a carb-coma in the evening. 

Miscellaneous...

Randomly...

1. I need to step up my fitness. My BF has offered to teach me to swim, and I may have to take her up on that. It's good for my hip and I should have learned a long time ago. 
2. I have to catch up with my remaining sibling; it's time for another adventure, and I don't want to let too much time pass. Life can get in the way for sure, but it's also what we prioritize. 
3. I really need to get into my home office and clear some crap out. Swedish Death Cleaning for me, too!
4. I've actually started Christmas shopping. It's better to get an idea of your list and chip at it all year long, I think. 
5. I've got to get out of the habit of going down the YouTube hole... I tend to do that when it's time to go to bed, and I need to cultivate a different habit. 

Random Picture...

The last of the lilacs of 2024. The bushes have been extremely prolific this year. This is the third cutting I've gotten and while they're a little beat up, it's still something I felt like I wanted to do. 

People have been walking past the yard and stopping to smell them for the past several weeks. They're at the end of the sidewalk, so it's easy for people to enjoy them.  

We're actually debating taking them out, because honestly they're planted too close to the sidewalk. They seemed fine when we put them in, but now they've gotten a bit loose. Hubby trims them so that they're never much taller than 7 feet, but one of the bushes has a ton of suckers, and the other seems to have sprouted a bit taller than its mate. I'd swear they're two different varieties, because the one on the right always blooms a few days before the other one. 

I got a hit of the smell, thankfully -- but the ability to smell is now gone again. But it was worth it. 

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.