Don't tell Mom yet

Back in the spring, I mentioned that I was working on a secret knitting project. The knitting has been done for ages, but tonight I finally finished all of the detail work. I won't be delivering it until tomorrow, but I don't think the recepient reads my blog as a rule, so - Ta da!

It's a fuchsia sweater for a friend's baby girl. Look at those buttons. Aren't they the cutest?

The pattern is the Baby Garter Trim Sweater (aka Baby Yoke Sweater) from City Sheep at Creative Fibers in Minneapolis. The yarn is Blue Sky Alpaca sport weight. (Warning: The pattern says it takes two skeins. The pattern lied. I went well into the third skein.)

I have long missed the "new baby" deadline, but the little miss cooperated with me by being early and tiny. I think she may be able to wear this now, or on into autumn.

Now, back to socks.

Ready for Socktoberfest

As a rule, I don't do knitalongs, those things where a bunch of bloggers all agree to knit in something in some specified period of time. I knit to unwind, and to make the things I want, and I don't feel the need to go along with the crowd or threaten myself with a deadline.

But when I heard about Socktoberfest, I knew I had to join in.

There are no restrictions about what you make, or how long it takes you. It is simply a time to celebrate handknitted socks.

Do we celebrate them? Why, yes we do. Observe, from my bag o' active knitting:

Three, count 'em, three socks in progress. They are all second socks, mates to these three:

I need to get these babies off the needles so I can a) wear the socks, and b) free up the needles to make some different stuff. So that is my Socktoberfest goal - finish some second socks, kitchener those toes, and start wearing them.

Progress continues on the Stashbuster Sweater. I finished the back:


And started on the front:

I sort of regret that I decided to make it with The Yarn That Dare Not Speak Its Name, because I would like to see it in nice yarn, but I am not turning back at this point.

At least the pattern is easy. It makes perfect TV knitting. And what am I watching on TV? KnightStar and I used some discounts to procure seasons 1 and 2 of Star Trek, The Original Series. (The store did not have season 3 in stock, so for the moment, we are spared from having to watch "Spock's Brain".)

Back home from Winfield

I got back from Winfield, Kansas and the Walnut Valley Festival yesterday.

It was touch and go whether I would even be able to attend. My brother had to bail out, and with my eye all wonky, there was no guarantee I would be able to drive. Eventually, I talked Terry into going with me.

Terry has been there once before, and doesn't really like it - too loud and too crowded for his taste. I assured him that our current campsite was relatively quiet and off the beaten path. He spent most of his time hanging out at camp, and by Saturday afternoon confessed that he had achieved stresslessness.

My brother always says, "When I go to Winfield, it's summer, and when I come home, it's autumn." That was true this year, and I even know the exact moment the change happened.

It had been in the 90s all weekend, but on Saturday we heard rumors that a cold front was on the way. Sunday morning at 3:00 AM, a huge gust of wind roared in from the north. Within 10 minutes, I heard the first drops of rain. Once we had secured the windows, I went back to sleep to the sound of rain on the tent.

We awoke on Sunday to cool breezes and mud. Our mates are prepared for any situation, though, and we were able to get out of the muck with no trouble.

Back home, it is still cool, and in the last 23 hours, I have already seen signs of the leaves turning.

I can see?

I won't have official confirmation for a few more weeks, but anecdotal evidence says that my eyesight has been improving since I had the space-age laser treatment last week. I would rate it as "about where it was when I first started complaining that it was getting worse" - not back to normal yet, but considerably improved.

Vampire no more

As of this morning, I am free to move about in the daylight. To celebrate, I went to Sunday afternoon knitting at The Village Knit Wit. I worked on the Zebra sock, and am almost to the toe decrease. For being a boring pattern in a boring yarn, I am enjoying the knitting immensely, and I think they will be cute socks to wear.

In the brochure they gave me at the doctor's office, it said to avoid sunlight for five days, but different people on different days told me three days. I sincerely hope they are right and I didn't just cook all of my blood vessels.

I rather enjoyed my forced leisure these past few days. The weather has been temperate enough that I could keep the air off most of the time. I've watched DVDs people have lent me, read books that I was dragging my feet about finishing, and knit. It's the perfect vacation.

Stashbuster

I haven’t told anyone, but I’m knitting a sweater.

A few weeks ago, I aired out the yarn stash, and I decided to gather up the pre-yarn-snob yarns and put them in one place. I saw that I had a sweater’s worth of one of the yarns, purchased when it was on sale at Hobby Lobby.

This yarn is much maligned by serious knitters, and with good reason. It is hard to work with, splitting and unraveling at every turn. It has the illusion of softness, but if you have ever touched baby alpaca, this feels like fiberglass. But I have it, and at 100% acrylic, it is never going to go away. I can’t even throw it to the moths as a sacrifice. The moths would throw it back.

At almost the same time, I was bouncing around the internet and rediscovered Bonne Marie Burns’s 3timesChic sweater pattern on Knitty. I always liked that pattern and could imagine myself making and wearing it.

And what do you know? It can be made with The Yarn That Dare Not Speak Its Name.

I made a swatch, and got the gauge the first time. At least I think I did – stitch definition is not one of the selling points of this yarn. So I cast on. I put it on the Denise needles, so I have had to make no additional investment in the project other than time. It’s all stuff I already had.

So my dirty little secret is out. When I’m not making wool socks on itty bitty birch needles, I’m knitting an acrylic sweater on plastic.

Even Katie, who is a bit of a yarn snob herself, seems to understand.


I’ve survived my first day of daylight restrictions, in the company of my faithful cohorts.


KnightStar took me out for dinner after dark, and then we went bookstoring. He thought I was a little bit down, so he surprised me with a Godiva Dark Chocolate with Raspberry bar. You know what? It totally worked.

It cooled down nicely last night. I turned off the AC and opened the windows, and had the best night’s sleep I have had in weeks. I’m now refreshed and ready to face another day as a recluse.

Garbo stays home

My eye troubles, which have been dormant for a dozen years or so, flared up recently. Essentially, I have macular degeneration, but I got it from a cause other than old age. If you really care about the details, follow the links.

What I have - CNMV
What caused it - POH

Anyway, I had a treatment today that I have not had before. In a nutshell, they shot me up with drugs and then shined a soft laser (cold laser, they call it sometimes) in the eye to activate the drug. Again if you want to know more, click through.

What Visudyne does
How Visudyne works

The main side effect of the drug is photosensitivity. I must avoid the sun for three days. They were very specific about making sure I had long sleeves, long pants ,and a wide-brimmed hat. They gave me the stylish shades and the cloth to cover my face and hands while I was in the car. I felt like a reclusive movie star.

I'm ready for my close up, Mr DeMille.

Until Sunday, I am restricted to indoors during daylight hours. Long days of naps and knitting and DVDs - the sacrifices I make for my health.

Still here

I'm still around. No, I haven't posted for awhile. Without getting into details, let's just say that going to the dentist to have a filling replaced is NOT the worst part of my week.

TTYL.

KnitWits Gone Wild!!!

It's possible that ours was the only group of knitters to commemorate their trip to Stitches Midwest in this way:


Yes, those are real, permanent tattoos, procured during our Thursday visit to Wisconsin. No, none of those legs are mine. Not getting a tattoo was one of my birthday presents to my dearly beloved.

Stash flash

I went to Stitches and only bought enough yarn to fill a small bag. (Foot included for scale.)


Here is the bag unpacked.


Seven skeins of sock yarn, two skeins of silk-ish stuff, and a scarf's worth of cashmere. This isn't even all from Stitches. The first three skeins on the top row came from a yarn shop in Wisconsin that we visited a couple of days ago.

Of course, I had to bring projects to work on as well. First, the Fish Scale socks.


I finished the first sock last week, but still need to graft the toe. I have not yet had a period of quiet contemplation suitable for that project, so I just slid the stitches onto spare needles and cast on the second sock.

I've turned the heel on the Zebra sock. For me, one of the great thrills in knitting is turning the heel on a sock. I always think I have performed magic.


The colors are pooling rather dramatically in the decrease area, but c'est la vie.

KnightStar arrived in town yesterday, and we took him to a Greek restaurant for his birthday dinner. Today, he is playing in the blitz tournament at the US Open Chess Tournament.

Meanwhile, the KnitWits are headed downtown today to see the sights.

News flash from Stitches Midwest

The foofy garter stitch scarf is over.

And there was much rejoicing.

The new trend, unfortunately, is wearing a ginormous backpack while you are shopping. Someone smacked one of my companions in the face with her backpack, and then had the b***s to say, "You're in my way."

I don't think rudeness is a trend though. For the most part, people were pleasant. When I got separated from my enablers, total strangers stepped in to fill the gap, as I did for others. Belisa Cashmere should give me a kickback.

I bought some sock yarn, a small ball of cashmere, and a set of needles. Everything I've bought so far, including yesterday's foray into Wisconsin, fits into a 9 inch bag.

But we're going back this afternoon.

On the road

Amy pointed out to me that I have not updated my blog for awhile. Oh, yeah. Guess not.

Several KnitWits and Amy's friend Dianne are in Chicago, waiting for Friday so we can go to Stitches Midwest. We came early so we could sightsee. Today we are going to Milwaukee, where Amy has been working recently.

I'm knitting on the zebra sock (just turned the heel) and the fish scale sock (a couple of inches into the second sock) while we travel.

Stay tuned. In the next day or two, I should have yarn porn photos, and possibly a tattoo crawl to report on.

Last day for the home girls

KnightStar is on his way home, and Katie and I are enjoying our last few hours of leisure. (Leisure, my ***. I've been cleaning.) (OK, so I've also been watching Mythbusters.)

Last night, I started the heel flap on the zebra sock.

When it's hot out, Miss Katie does what she does best.

Ow.

I thought about using "Ow" for my title yesterday, but I'm glad I saved it.

Today, everything between my shins and my mouth hurt from the CPR training. As luck would have it, today was when my company had their massage therapist in for chair massages. I counted my quarters and scheduled an appointment.

She zeroed right in on my right shoulder and gave it a hefty workout. "It may hurt for a day or so," she said. Sweet jeebus. I got home and started doing normal things, like washing dishes and working a crossword puzzle, and I can barely move. Even watching TV hurts.

I hope I can find enough pillows to get into a comfortable position for sleeping.

Sorry for the whining. Maybe I will feel all better tomorrow.

No good deed goes unpunished

I took my annual CPR recertification today. It was mostly uneventful, although there have been some changes in the procedures since last year.

One thing hasn't changed - the hands-on part of the class is strenuous, even more so than in the past. I was already a little achy from some work I did around the house yesterday, and now my neck and shoulders are positively sore. My surgeon told me last month that I may continue to have occasional aches around the surgical site for several months, and it turns out that performing CPR will bring that out, as well.

If that is not enough - I came home with a battle scar - a nice little bruise.

If I popped a vessel for a rubber dummy, imagine what I might do in the event of an actual emergency.

Bachelor girls

KnightStar is off exploring the galaxy, so Katie and I are home alone for a bit. The side of me that misses him has a poem in the Piker Press this week. I wish I could say it was a heartfelt outpouring of my feelings, but in fact, I wrote it several days before he left. I am taking the poetry class and Barnes and Noble University, and this poem grew out of a challenge posted in the clubhouse. I knew he was going on his trip, though, and that certainly affected the direction of the poem.

Saturday, I got up early and went to Sergeant Bluff for the prequel to RAGBRAI, the Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa, which started Sunday. I helped sell newspaper souvenir packs and hand out t-shirts. It was warm, but not blisteringly so, and we had a nice breeze most of the time. Still, it was a long day, about 20 hours from the time I got up until I crawled back into bed.

Tonight: Change the cat litter and take out the garbage (usually KnightStar's job.)

Tomorrow: Finally catching up with the CPR training I was supposed to have May 31, the day I had surgery.

Nature report

Item: Today was cooler, and tomorrow is supposed to be cooler still. As hot as it has been here, our friends in Kansas and California and Nebraska have it much worse.

Item: When I came home from work, I heard little peeps from the finch nest. I think we finally have babies.

Item: Last night, KnightStar rummaged around the kitchen until he found an old cottage cheese container. Then he took it to the sink and started filling it with water.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"It's been hot," he replied. "Chuckie probably needs water."

I'm not the only softy around here.

RIP Woody

I was doing dishes this morning when I heard a woman shrieking outside. I looked out the window, expecting to see kids misbehaving or a creepy boyfriend trying to be macho. But no.

Instead, I saw someone from down the street was walking her two dogs - and one of the dogs had Woody in his mouth, shaking him.

She finally got the dog to put Woody down, and got both of the dogs away and back home. One of the other neighbors and I went outside a few minutes later when the dog's owner came came back to pick up the deceased. Apparently Woody broke away a couple of times, but the dog probably broke his neck the third time.

Just a couple of days ago, our next door neighbor and I were talking about the groundhogs. They hang around in his backyard a lot, and he was wondering what kind of food he could put out for them. (He's a tender-hearted guy who has also protected baby bunnies from sneaky cats.) I have never seen all three of them out of hiding at the same time, but he has, and said it was one adult and two babies.

He thought one of the babies was crippled, because it seemed to have trouble moving its hind legs. Terry and I had also noticed that one of them didn't move very fast. That's the same one in the picture on the link above. When the others ran home, they hid. Woody would waddle under the shed when he spotted us, and then turn around and stick his little white nose out to look at us. We saw him doing that yesterday, in fact.

Until I see the other two, I won't know which one the dog got, but I have to think it would be the curious and slow-moving one. I'll miss seeing the little guy.

I learned something else this morning, too. Knowing it was going to be hot today, I called Animal Control to report there was a dead animal on the sidewalk. The dispatcher told me "they only come out for domesticated. You'll probably have to throw it away yourself." With all their protective gear, they won't come near a dead groundhog on a public sidewalk, but they expect me to pick it up with my kitchen tongs and throw it in the trash, where it will sit for three days until the next garbage pickup. If a rabid fox stalks your kid's swingset, you better hope Atticus Finch is around to put him down.

Mea culpa

I've been a bad blogger this week, but I have an excuse. I signed up to take the poetry writing class at Barnes and Noble University. I tried taking the same class it last year, but my vacation to Waythehelloutthere, Nebraska fell right in the middle of it, and I never finished.

This time, I am trying hard to keep up with the assignments, and so far, so good. I've already written three poems that I would rate "Good enough that Aser is going to plotz when she reads them", have started on a fourth, and am thinking about the fifth and sixth. Some of the assignments don't really seem to be up my alley, but I still try them, and hey bingo! They work out.

Wednesday was six weeks since I had surgery, and I'm finally feeling like my old self again. Back in the old days, major surgery like this was an automatic six weeks recuperation at home, and I can see why. This week was the first time I could wear pantyhose or zippered pants without wanting to claw them off my body by the time I got home from work. Of course, back in those days, a burst appendix (which is what the doctor thought I had, although I didn't) was a short road to a tragically early death. I've said it before - it's not perfect, but I still like modern times.

At the picnic

DMAS had their annual picnic yesterday. This year, they had a joint meeting with the Central Iowa Mineral Society. I thought that seemed like an odd pairing - stargazers and rockhounds - but it turned out to be pretty entertaining. Both groups are interested in how things came to be the way they are.

When we pulled into the parking lot, we saw a couple of rabbits enjoying their own dinners. They obligingly stayed put while I sneaked around with the camera, trying to get closer. This one, the larger one, had a nice white cottontail.


This one was smaller. Terry called it "that scwewy widdle wabbit."


It's a little hard to see, but that one is munching on some greenery. Click on the closeup to see it even larger.


I didn't have any road-ready knitting, so I grabbed a new ball of sock yarn and some needles to take along. This is Opal's Zebra stripe yarn. Not the most exciting as far as color changes go, but it was nice and meditative, and I got a couple of inches done.


Warning! Warning! It's just a month until Stitches Midwest. We are expecting to have six KnitWits there, plus a friend of a KnitWit who is flying in. Plus Terry. No, he is not going to Stitches, but he is going to come to Chicago for a long weekend. I've printed out the Market floor plan, and have located the places that I remember from last year, in that "I like X that I got there, but I really wish I had also bought Y." I'll be shopping for the Ys next.

July 5, 1996

5:00 PM...


and 10:00 PM.


To this day, we still believe that the only good part about dressing up is when you can finally take off your shoes.

Fun on the Fourth

No work today - that's fun. (For me, anyway. KnightStar is slaving away.)

A barbecue with the KnitWits - that's going to be fun. (KnightStar is also having a barbecue at work. Apparently, they actually have a grill at his office. Man. My company only has a popcorn machine.)

Digging through my mom's recipe box for my favorite Jello salad recipe - that was fun. I'm not a big fan of Jello, but I like this one because it has lots of fruit, and pecans, and a layer of sour cream in the middle, and hardly any Jello at all - just enough to hold it together.

Looking through patterns, trying to decide what to knit next - that's fun. I may finally cast on the fraternal twin mate to the unfortunate sock.

Seeing what Katie usually does with her day while I am at work - that's fun. She was too quick, and I wasn't able to get a picture of her chasing her tail around like a kitten. When she slowed down, though, I was able to catch her sitting in her bird blind.

Felting Party

The KnitWits, miffed because their usual Friday night hangout has adopted "summer hours" and closes at 10:00 PM, decided to meet at Amy's last night for a felting party. Four of us had items ready to be felted. I had the Booga Bag and Felted Bowl.


They are both upside down here, being shaped while they dry.

This was my second attempt at felting Noro Kureyon, and I had the same experience as the first time. Thus, here is my Kureyon felting tip: You can wash the bejeebers out of it, and it will felt some, but not quite enough. Take it out of the washer and let it sit overnight while you fret about what you are going to do with it. The next day, decide to give it one last chance. Throw it back in the washer for about five minutes, and it will felt right up.

Amy had a skein of yarn that caught my eye. It is space-dyed with light blue, medium purple, and light greenish-yellow. We all passed it around and discussed what one might make with it. Eventually, it landed in my lap, and I brought it home and wound it up. I forgot to take a picture of it in the skein, but here it is on the swift.

And on the ball winder.


[Non-knitter glossary: The most traditional way of organzing yarn is in a skein, or a big loop. It's hard to knit directly from a skein, though, because it would be all spread out and the yarn would get tangled and the cats would attack it. For easier knitting, the yarn is wound into balls.

[In the first picture, the skein is on a swift. This swift opens like an umbrella to hold the yarn firmly, and spins so the yarn feeds off evenly. The second picture shows the yarn being wound onto a ball winder, which produces a compact biscuit of yarn that won't roll away.

[You don't absolutely need these tools - I remember hold skeins of yarn on my outstretched 8-year-old hands while my mother wound balls by hand - but they sure are nice.]

Yarns that are dyed like this always look much different when they are wound into balls, and they look much more like they will actually appear when knitted. Here it is in natural light, with my day lilies in the background.

I'll take it to our next gathering for everyone's continuing perusal and planning.

On the other side of my porch, I have some little roses.

Oh, I get it

I just noted with alarm that the blog has not had any hits today, and then I realized that I have not posted for a week. Hmm, that could have something to do with it.

So - the emergency ball of yarn arrived yesterday, and winding is underway. Some of the KnitWits wanted to see my nostepinne, so I started winding on that last night. I'm here to tell you, nostepinne plus sport weight yarn plus novice winder equals a long time to wind. I'm about ready to take it off and finish winding by hand, but I hate to be defeated.

I also found a reasonable substitute to use for the Kureyon i-cord. It is now ready to be felted.

I got new glasses. Unlike previous glasses, the bifocal part is perfect, but the distance vision is a little squirrelly. I may have to take Lens Crafters up on their 30-day guarantee. But darn it, the glasses are cute. And the sunglasses are perfect.

I have poem in the Piker Press this week, Making Bread With Maslow. As Sunday evening rolled around, I realized I did not have anything on hand suitable for the Food issue, so I had to write something myself. It started out being a "bread as a metaphor for sex" poem, but I wasn't too far along before Abraham Maslow and his hierarchy of needs showed up. Go figure.

I'm walking and moving better, almost back to normal for short stretches. I've also been doing a few ab exercises. I have to be careful, though, because some of them hurt. and not in a good way.

Tonight I had a glass of wine, my first since the surgery. Like caffeine, if you don't partake very often , it doesn't take much to have an impact. Yippee!

Tragedy comes in threes

First, there was the unfortunate sock. Then, there was the abbreviated bag handle.

Now, there is the hapless gift.

I haven't photographed this project, not wanting to spoil the surprise, but I got the pattern and yarn when we went to Minneapolis a couple of months ago. It was coming along nicely, but on Saturday, I suddenly realized...

I don't have enough yarn to finish it.

I took my plight to the KnitWits, and we discussed ways we might salvage the project, including some creative striping and embroidery to disguise a different dye lot. Amy took one of the ball bands and offered to look for the yarn during her travels this week.

(Explanation for non-knitters: Most yarn has a both a color number and a dye lot number. Yarn from the same dye lot, the same batch, should match perfectly. Yarns of the same color, but from different dye lots, may appear to be the same, but can be obviously different shades when knitted up.)

Fortunately, the price sticker on the ball band had the name of the store. Yesterday, I looked up Creative Fibers on the web, found an e-mail address, and sent them a semi-hysterical message. Within and hour, I had a response - "Yes, we still have that dye lot, and we will set one aside for you." I called today, and the yarn is now on its way to me. I hope this is the beginning of a trend, with knitting problems being resolved easily.

Today was my second day back at work. Yesterday I was tired. Today I was achy. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Restorative knitting

The KnitWits looked over the unfortunate sock from the previous post, and weighed in with their advice:

1. Knit the second sock however I want.
2a. Have "fraternal twin" socks, or
2b. Like the second well enough to rip the first one back and make it match.

Grudgingly, I admit that it sounds like a reasonable plan, but I am still not ready to cast on.

Instead, I opted for some fast 'n' easy fun knitting (felted division) this week. I made a bowl from the the One Skein book.


It's just a shade more complicated than a rolled-brim baby hat, so it is excellent mindless knitting.

Then I dug out some old Kureyon and made a Booga Bag.


I'm probably the last knitter on the planet who has not made a Booga Bag. It's extremely simple, as well, and watching the color changes in the Kureyon is fun.

I did have a problem, though. I have completely consumed the three balls of yarn, and still need about two more feet of i-cord for the handles. Gah! I hate to buy another ball of yarn just for the few yards. I've put out the call to the KnitWits to see if anyone has a dab of this colorway in their stash. If not, I will have to bite the bullet and buy some yarn.

My advice - make the handles first, then knit the bag until you run out of yarn.

In other activity this week, I got my staples out and am now being held together by tape (which is starting to fall off.) I had an eye exam and ordered new glasses. Katie had her annual vet visit and is A-OK.

Monday, I go back to work. It will be nice to be back among people again. At least, I say that today. Check with me about Wednesday to see if my opinion has changed.

The sock I try to love

I finished a sock yesterday. It's a first sock, so I don't get official "off the sticks" credit for it. It has, however, been on the sticks for at least two years, so at least it is some progress.

Here is the sock.


The yarn is fun. I've always called it the Easter Egg sock because of the spring pastels. I did it toe up, with a simple lace pattern on the leg. It looks okay, but I don't know - something about it just doesn't work for me. It fits, but I don't especially like the way it looks on my foot.

For the first time ever , I did not cast on the second sock the same day the first one came off the needles. I probably will today, unless I decide to scrap the lace, rip it out, and do plain ribbing. I just don't know what I want to do with it. Except I can see using the yarn to make baby socks. Now those would be cute.

Katie likes it, though.


Terry is off work today, so I can get my not-allowed-to-drive self out of the house for awhile. I never thought I would be so excited at the prospect of going to the mall.

Nurse Katie

Whenever I am away from home for a few days, Terry always reports that Katie misses me. He said she missed me when I was in the hospital, too.

So naturally, when I returned home, she welcomed me by doing all of those thoughtful things kitties do. You know, following me into the kitchen so I can give her a drink of fresh water, waiting while I haul myself out of the easy chair - so she can steal it, dashing around wildly where I am trying to walk, walking across the incision.

Hogging the ottoman so I can't put my feet up:


Her newest trick: drinking the water from my mug. She will use her paw, or she will stick her whole face in there to see if she can reach the water with her tongue.


The doctor wants me to move around while I recuperate. Since I have to go get a new cup of water whenever she does this, that may be her way of helping me after all.

The Lost Week

I work with a management staff of four during the day. One of the four is on maternity leave. One has an unchangeable vacation next week. That left me and my boss for six days. I’ve been saying for months that we are one streetcar accident away from disaster.

I got run over by the streetcar this week.

Specifically, after a couple of days of feeling increasingly crappy, I ended up at the clinic, and then the emergency room, and then in surgery, all in the space of Wednesday afternoon. Because my incision was large and my surgery was late in the day, I got to spend two nights at the hospital. They sprung me yesterday afternoon.

And I will be off work for at least two weeks, completely encompassing my teammate’s vacation. Sorry, boss. I didn’t plan it this way, really.

Terry was off work and spent a lot of time with me, bored out of his mind, but I appreciated it. I got flowers and calls and visit from him and the KnitWits and my co-workers. (Our minister stopped by just as one of my friends was on the phone saying “WTF happened?” That was an interesting parry.) The KnitWits are already planning who can entertain me, and when, during my recuperation. I’m blessed to have good people in my life.

This morning, I woke up thinking that food sounded like a good idea. I hadn’t had any appetite before the surgery, and sure didn’t have any for most of the hospital food. (Not to be critical of the hospital cafeteria. I could tell they prepared their menus with care. Nothing tasted good to me, except the iced tea, the fruit cup and the orange, and even then I couldn’t eat more than a few bites. But really, I am curious to know how they made link sausage pasty.) I knew exactly what I wanted, so Terry drove me to McDonalds for a Sausage and Egg Biscuit. I ate the whole thing. Man, was it tasty.

Before leaving the subject of hospital stays, I would just like to say that hospital RNs are the greatest people in the world. To do what they do, day in and day out, remain professional and caring, and still treat you like you are the most important person in the world, is an amazing thing. I salute them.

Lazy Sunday

It's Sunday. It's hot. It's humid. Terry and I are both off work, and we are being lazy.

Inside, Katie enjoys Terry's new desk, which has a lot more room where she can play.


Outside, I think I found out why the finches are hanging around so much. This is in the awning over our back door.


Terry went stargazing last night, and called me to tell me that our picture was in Sky and Telescope Magazine. The July issue has an article about the Nebraska Star Party, which we have attended a couple of times. Right there on page 102, there we are.

What - you can't see us? How about this one, then?


That's Terry on the right with the cute legs, and me on the left with no face. Directly in front of us is Allen, who brought the photo to our attention.

Please, no autographs.

Groundhog census

I came home from work this afternoon to find Terry's truck in the driveway, the door to the house open, lights on, but Terry nowhere to be seen. After engaging in a little logical reasoning, I went out back to the camper. Sure enough, there he was, with a camera.

"Taking pictures of Chuckie?" I asked.

"There are three of them," he said, "at least."

He had already taken some pictures, so he gave me the camera and I took a few more.

One brave little soldier was sticking his nose out into the sunshine. Two others were sticking to the shadows on the side of the shed. See them there? I couldn't even tell it was two until I enlarged the photo and saw the ears and noses.

As with most of our Chuckie photos, these were taken through a screen window, which accounts for the ethereal glow.

Here's another picture of Woody.

It's getting hard to keep them all straight, especially when they all look alike. I think I will just call all of the adults Chuckie, and the babies Woody until they are big enough to be Chuckies.

At this very moment, Terry is attempting to post his own dueling photos on his own blog. If candid groundhog photos are your thang, go check there.

In other news, I read Jerry Seeger's short story last night before going to bed. I really liked it, but then, knowing his earlier work from the Piker Press, that doesn't surprise me. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm not really into science fiction. This story, though, is first a human story, with just enough SF to give it a twist. Well done, Jer!

One more thing to celebrate

At Borders tonight, I saw the July issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction Magazine. This issue includes the first published-for-money story by fellow Piker Jerry Seeger. It always tickles me to be able to buy something that one of my pals has written and had published, and this was no exception.

We first encountered Jerry on the NaNoWriMo boards a few years ago. He was so witty and charming, I asked if we could keep him. He admitted that he would like being kept, and that is why he is listed as "Jerry the Keeper" on my sidebar.

Even though I am not a big SF fan, I can read Jerry's stuff without my eyes going all googly. (That's a compliment, really.) I even managed to give him a brief, but thoughtful, critique of a couple of paragraphs of one of his stories recently without once saying, "What the hell are you talking about?", and he seemed to appreciate my insights.

Also, he once wrote and submitted a poem that he knew I couldn't publish, but he thought I would enjoy it just the same. How can you not like a guy like that?

Which is my way of saying, if you buy the July issue of F&SF, turn straight to page 135, and read "Memory of a Thing That Never Was".

Rumor has it

Terry told me the other day, "We have to think of a new name for Chuckie," Chuckie being our name for our personal backyard groundhog. He has spotted a young 'un in tow, so he thinks Chuckie might be a female. I haven't even seen the baby yet, but I have already dubbed it Woody. Getting photos of the pair is our weekend art project.

Work has been a wild ride this week, and I'm not sure that has cleared up yet. I just try to remember, I get paid the same, no matter what I'm doing.

Terry got me a couple of items from my rolling gift list for my birthday Wednesday - a car radio adapter for my iPod, and an IngenuiTEA, a tea-brewing doohickey like they use at Gong Fu. My co-workers, bless them, got me two big bars of dark chocolate. Caffeine, chocolate, and music - yep, I'm good to go.

Happy birthday today to two fabulous Gemini chicks - awesome Amy of It Is What It Is, and lovely Lillian, the future overlordess of the universe. Mwah to you both - have a super day!

Our new neighbors, the Finches

These two have been hanging around our kitchen window this spring, taunting Katie with their sweet song and manageable size. She wants them in the worst way, but she is an indoor cat, and they are safely out of her reach.


They are house finches. The breed is relatively new to these parts, first seen in the state during the Reagan administration.

The male is a lovely rosy color.


I'm trying not to be a big ol' Broadway geek, but I know if he stays around, I will be calling him Ponty. What can I say? Young Robert Morse is hott. I have a bootleg video of Quick Before It Melts, a silly sex comedy from the 60s, that I have watched dozens of times because he so darned cute. I'll even watch A Guide For The Married Man - which I see is now available on DVD. To Borders!

But, ahem, I digress.

The female finch ("Rosemary"), in this photo shoot anyway, always has her mouth open.


Singing is good, though. I pointed these two out to Terry a few days ago, and lamented that I had not been able to get them to hold still so I could take a picture. Yesterday, he heard them singing, and dashed out with the camera to get the pictures he knew I craved. Thanks, honey!

All rainbows end in the street

Tuesday evening, we went to the dedication of the Temple Chess and Poetry Garden. It is in the space between the Temple for Performing Arts and the new downtown library, what used to be the patio of Starbucks. It's just a couple of blocks from my office.

The garden came about because a benefactor wanted to have an artist design a chess table that could be placed in a park. Instead, they got three.


There is a table on either side, and one to the back of the picture. The wheels cleverly disguise the fact that the tables are bolted to the ground.

We went because the powers that be wanted area chess players to come and play. There's my personal chess guru, deep in thought.


There were speeches and stuff, but the fact that Mayor Frank Cownie was speaking did not deter two kids from their game.


That's the Temple in the background.

Did you notice that I said Chess and Poetry Garden? The Poetry is farther back from the street, and for that matter, so is the garden. The garden, in fact, is fenced in by the poetry. I can't say that I'm crazy about that symbolism, but no one asked my opinion. For what it's worth, no mention was made of the poetry aspect during the oratory. The copper wall in the background is the library.

Coming attractions

This is mostly for me, so I don't forget these dates, but anyone is welcome to join me. Here's what I plan to do with my weekends in the next month.

May 16: Dedication of the Chess and Poetry Garden. Terry is so excited about the prospects of playing chess in a park that he can hardly stand it. Plus, it is right next to Starbucks on one side, and La Mie on the other.

May 21: Jewish Food Fair at Temple B'nai Jeshurun. Food, entertainment, and a chance to tour their beautiful facility. I linked to the main page so you can see their series of "Eat like a ... " advertisements. I want an "Eat like a marxist" poster.

June 3 and 4: Greek Food Fair at St. George Greek Orthodox. My favorite culinary adventure of the year, surpassing even the reknowned Iowa State Fair. They used to just serve a plate dinner, but they have added a la carte dining. Wowee wow wow! And, it runs for two days, so you don't have to make a pig of yourself at one meal. They also offer tours of their lovely sanctuary.

June 10 and 11: Iowa Sheep and Wool Festival. It's not Maryland Sheep and Wool, but hey, it's only their second year. It was, however, reminiscent of my 4-H county fair days. Now that I know how to spin a little, I expect the shopping will be more interesting to me.

ETA Late addition: On May 29, my Piker pal Jerry will have a story published in Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine. He's a terrific writer. Go buy the magazine.

I'm everywhere

Maybe not everywhere, but a couple of places.

I have a poem in The Piker Press this week. It came from a writing prompt that was tossed out at my NaNoWriMo refugees group a few weeks ago.

After I got my iPod, I casually mentioned in one of the Piker online staff brawls that "we should do a podcast." One of our code monkeys latched onto that idea, and as of today, PikerCasts is listed on Podcast Alley and iTunes. (You'll need iTunes installed on your computer to go to that one.) Which is cool enough, but the first episode out there is the poem I wrote last year for Mother's Day.

You don't need to have an iPod or mp3 player to hear it. If you go to the Podcast Alley page, scroll down and click on PikerCasts 01 to listen.

Many hands make light work

It was a pretty day here, sunny and just the right temperature. The Knitting and Handgun Appreciation Society teamed up on a project that let us get outside, get some exercise, and do some actual blood-pumping work. Tote that barge, lift that bale, push that broom, and where did I leave my latte?

So now my back aches, and I am mourning my inability to take NSAIDs (pharmacist's orders). Once you've spent some time with Aleve, Tylenol just doesn't provide the same thrill.

But our mission was completed. As with knitting, there is a wonderful sense of accomplishment when you see something physically transformed by the work of your own hands.

And I think I just might sleep pretty well tonight.

Still life with cat and shoe

The knitting project that is currently number one on my hit parade is a gift, thus, no progress pictures. It's about half done, though, and those who have seen it in person have pronounced it good and satisfactory.

So in the meantime, here's another cat picture. It was either that, or a picture of my dental work, just finished this morning. Even if you aren't a cat fan, I still think you will find this preferable.