Luck be a Doctor Tonight

Dear Doctor at the Local Walk-In Medical Emergency,

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for doing such an amazing job with my stitches.  It’s one week later and aside from one tiny bandage, I no longer look like a freak.  (My friends can keep their helpful comments to themselves, thankyouverymuch.)  I don’t have a huge muffler on the side of my face, my bruises and swelling are almost completely gone, and I have been able to wash my hair and stop wearing a ridiculous side-ponytail that is not at ALL flattering to a woman of my age.  You treated me like a person, not a case, and I am very glad the luck of the draw brought me to you.

Love,

Tea and Sarcasm

Dear Doctor at the Local Walk-In Medical Emergency,

Hello again!  Yes, you did see me this morning.  Yes, everything is okay, and yes, it is strange that I’m back again at 5:30.  But this time it’s my Older Daughter who has her own malaise and it might be something a bit serious.  Thank you for treating her as impeccably well as you treated me, and quietly but firmly recommending that the family practice doctor she saw earlier might just be mistaken and an emergency room visit was in order.  Like right now.  Like right as soon as she calls the hospital because she’s doing that now.  Again, the luck of the draw gave my daughter good counsel.

Oh, and thanks for calling me “Ear Lady” as we left.  You made me laugh and reduced my tension.

Love,

Tea and Sarcasm

Everybody gets a hug.

Everybody gets a hug.

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Well, Crap.

Today is Friday, June 5.  I’m supposed to be at a wedding right now on Long Island.  Instead I’m at home in New Jersey with my head bandaged up like I suddenly took Holy Orders and everybody is calling me a nun.

I took a shower this morning.  That’ll teach me.  Dirty is the way to go, my friends!  I slipped in the shower (something I haven’t done since I was a teenager forcryingoutloud) and I hit my head on the corner of our marble sink and my thigh smack onto the rim of the tub.  I waited a second to see if I was going to pass out (good, no dark tunnels, no harps playing) and slowly stood up.  That’s when I noticed all the blood running down my shoulder.  I was actually able to shut off the water, wrap a towel around half of my head, get another towel wrapped around me, opened the door and called out to my beloved who was snoring peacefully in the bedroom.  (Later he told me “Well, yes, honey, I heard something but I thought you were getting some clothes out of the closet.”)  The first words he said were “What did you do?” and that’s when I knew I was going to be okay.  If he had recoiled in horror or passed out from the sight of blood then my goose would have been cooked.  We ascertained the blood wasn’t coming from inside the ear and went to the local walk-in-if-you’re-injured place.
Not only am I darn tootin’ lucky, I’m apparently also quite talented in the falling department.  I have ripped up the cartilage on the rim of my ear pretty well and I have a gash about two inches long in back of the ear.  Once they finished stitching me up and wrapping my head, I figured we weren’t going to a wedding, even though everyone tried to convince me that it didn’t look too bad and maybe I could put a nice scarf over it?  Seriously.  I’m wearing a wimple and you think people won’t notice?  Besides, the bandage is white and it would have competed with the bride.
In other crap news, remember the lovely photos of my garden I showed you?  The very next day the cucumbers, snap peas, hollyhocks and nasturtiums were gone and in their place are three very happy and very fat bunnies hopping around my yard and wondering when the next buffet is served.  Apparently they’re not Italian bunnies because they’re staying far away from the tomatoes and zucchini and basil.  We never had a rabbit problem before, but we figured out that the last time we had a garden we also had a dog.  Now we just have marauding rabbits, greedy groundhogs, maniac squirrels, bipolar chipmunks, and very confused mourning doves.
Tomorrow we go into Manhattan to see a show.  I actually think I’ll blend right in.
Oh, sure, you're cute when you fall down.  YOU'RE PROBABLY WEIGHTED DOWN WITH VEGETABLES.

Oh, sure, you’re cute when you fall down. YOU’RE PROBABLY WEIGHTED DOWN WITH VEGETABLES.

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A New Home

The lovely Winsday has offered to adopt my little family of yarn, so off it shall go to the friendly climes up north.  Winsday, please email me at woolizard at gmail dot com so we may chit chat about delivery.  And thanks!

And that's how baby projects are made, kids.

And that’s how baby projects are made, kids.

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It’s Actually Growing!

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Iris Garden in Front

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Patio Tomato Flowers

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Garden Tomatoes, Beans, Snap Peas, Zucchini

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Bean Rows

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Snap Peas

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Cukes in various stages of survival

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The last bleeding heart blossom

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When they grow up, they will be hollyhocks and nasturtiums and zinnias

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Patio Planter

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Herbs and birdhouse

So some things were eaten (and not by us, sad to say) and some things look a bit straggly and some things I don’t even remember what I planted, but there it is!  It’s been in the ground for almost a month and it’s working!

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The World is a Carousel of Color*

Never more so than in the month of May around these parts.  Between azaleas, rhododendrons, iris, columbine, dogwoods, and peonies, it’s a riot for the visual senses.  The green of the trees is still crisp and fresh, although we are soon headed for the wilted and tired when it hits 90 degrees here next week.  I am prepared.  I have air conditioning, hear me roar!  (Well, hear IT roar.  Or hum.  Whatever.)

I also have color all up in my senses because I went to an art store today.  The bliss.  The joy.  The almost trembling.  I may have gotten carried away, especially when I was stroking the amazing hand-made papers that were like gossamer and printed like fabrics.  The intensity of color spoke to me on a different level and I realized that I respond to color with my yarn as well.  My favorite color is green, but I couldn’t possibly isolate what kind of green; olive, moss, grass, jade, deep deep emerald….yet every car I buy is red.  I gravitate towards pinks and purples (princess much?) in some wardrobe choices.  Royal blue and periwinkle catch my eye and I linger.  Yellow and orange, not so much, but I love Autumn the most.  Perhaps that is why the art store just dazzled me.  I stood in front of the colored pencil rack and gazed appreciatively before I reached for the list I brought of pencils I wanted.

I carefully unfolded the paper, and decided to start with the blues.  “1100,” I murmured, and scanned the labels.  Frowning, I scanned them again.  And again.  Sheepishly, I turned to Older Daughter and bleated “help?”  I couldn’t read the minuscule numbers printed on each bin and wouldn’t know if I was getting 1100 or 1768.  What a great daughter she was, too, because she pretended it was hard for her to read the numbers as well and she frowned and squinted and took a moment before whipping the correct pencil out of its bin.  The numbers are printed on each pencil in a silver reflective oval which you have to hold at a certain angle to see, much like an old-fashioned mercury thermometer.  But I’ve got them, I’ve got twenty-three new colors that I will spend tomorrow playing with and making new little tags for inkytags and little labels and tiny arts.  Ironic, isn’t it, that my preferred choice of art is making miniatures?

My joy in color is probably enhanced too by recently knitting a black cardigan sweater, and while I absolutely loved the scrumptious yarn I was dying to work with color again.  I started a very colorful pair of socks (pinks and purples, see what I mean?) and I think I need to draw some flowers.  And leaves.  Lots of green.

*Anyone know the reference for the title?  It’s an oldie that I loved.

PS–wouldn’t anyone like to adopt this little family of yarn?

Or really cute dishcloths.

Or really cute dishcloths.

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The Thing Is…

I didn’t explain really about falling down the rabbit hole which I didn’t even call a rabbit hole, I called it falling down a well, so a follow-up with self-chastisement about being careful and thoughtful.  Be careful and thoughtful, me.

I’m one of those people who gets absolutely seized on a new idea, and that’s all I want to do.  I would visit somebody at their house and instead of enjoying the conversation and the friendships, I’d study the home: look at those curtains, the way they’re hung like that is absolutely brilliant and I bet I can do that, I just need a board and a heavy-duty stapler and sew some simple seams…oh, hey, look at that adorable wall of picture frames and the way dried flowers are interspersed with the photos, I have so many photos waiting to be framed and maybe I can stop at the craft store on the way home and get some flowers…what a great idea to get a pie safe to store out-of-season sweaters and that’s a great little lamp on top, I wonder why I never thought of that…

Then I’d go home and pore over magazines and go to Barnes and Noble and buy more magazines just to get ideas and I would be swept away with the desire to decorate it all RIGHT NOW.  I’m sure you’ll be completely unsurprised when I say that the magazines didn’t contribute a single thing towards redecorating except contributing to clutter and when I actually did some honest-to-goodness redecorating I didn’t consult a single magazine, just did what felt right.  (My Hubby would come out of the bathroom, bump into something and say resignedly “you rearranged the furniture again, didn’t you.”  While he was in the bathroom, people.)

Crafting.  Knitting.  Sewing.  Cake decorating.  Scrapbooking.  Card making.  Writing a book.  (Ssssh.  It’s still there, I even went back to it and re-read it and I didn’t vomit.)  Why don’t I get seized by something beneficial?  Like exercising?

(Excuse me, I have to laugh my butt off.)

ANWAY, there is a point to this.  I have fallen down the rabbit hole on two particular blogs for which I am reading archives and savoring every bite.  One is the blog of Susan Branch at www.susanbranch.com who is an artist I fell in love with a long time ago and was so happy to find her blogging.  The other is the blog of Alicia Paulson at www.posiegetscozy.com and I find her aesthetic so soothing and inspiring at the same time.  They make me want to be more of what I am.  So I have been spending my days happily immersed in these blogs and their archives and soaking up what I love and trying to define what it is that appeals to me and energizes me into doing something.  I want a happy home filled with warmth and good things, and I don’t want to hang onto things that are not working in that area.  My first beginning step was to try and re-home some yarn that is pretty but I just will not knit with it.

Now you know why I have yesterday’s title, why I’m giving away yarn, and a little bit more about me.

Hopefully we’ll get some comments from folks who love yarn and then I’ll send out a happy little package.  In the meantime, if you’re so inclined, I put some different tags up on my etsy site as well as some larger pieces.

Bless!

What he said.

What he said.

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Falling Down the Well

I’m neither here nor there.  I’m drawing, but not putting things up on Etsy.  I’m knitting, but not blocking when I finish.  I’m taking pictures, but not sharing them.  I’m thinking, but not…..doing?

This lot, you lot.

This lot, you lot.

So instead, I’m giving away some yarn.  There are two skeins of Universal Yarn (70% acrylic, 30% wool) in the Spanish moss colorway; one skein of Cascade 220 in Bluestone; two balls of green-tan-white striped Sugar n’ Cream, one of cream, and one of Daisy Ombre.  No gimmicks, no weird stuff, I don’t need your first-born, but maybe passing on yarn that I had hopes and dreams for to someone who can create something might spark me into…..doing.

So that’s it.  Leave a comment.

Free shipping to US, and I’ll try to work something out if you’re in a farther (further?) mailing zone.

Have a moment of reflection for Memorial Day if you’re American, or a moment of reflection for someone you care about while you consume whatever food it is that makes your weekend work.  I hope to be something more entertaining sometime soon.

you-throw-everything

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