Rachael

She said she’s not usually so cross-looking, that she must have stabbed herself with a cable needle, but I think she looks fabulous. In this picture she’s knitting her third BAWK hotty cozy. THIRD! She’s sent two away to daughters at college in Ontario, and this one was to stay home with the last girl, still living with her. (Three girls, just like us.) And the best part? A copy of the pattern went off to a friend in Prince Edward Island where the snow was piling high. PEI! Lucy Maud Montgomery will always be one of my most beloved authors. She’s comfort for the soul. (And Grace recommends her journals, which I haven’t read, and must.)

That’s all. It’s Sunday. I’m sleepy. Here’s hoping for a Quiet Super Bowl Sunday (I’m off work at 7pm, when the real post-drinking madness begins…..) Enjoy the commercials, and if you partake, the game itself. Or go shopping for books. Super Bowl Sunday is a wonderful book-buying day…..

Okay. Let’s talk irony.

Had a date with a doctor last night.

Just goes to show you, doesn’t it?

Anyway. It was a blind date, only my second one ever, to my recollection (which usually ain’t that great, but I’m sticking with this number). I met her off that silly Craigslist post I told you about. She wrote back to me late in the game and sounded sweet and funny, two very good things. I wrote back and said, basically, Okay. Let’s get a burger. I’m tired of that whole Pre-Screening practice that happens on-line nowadays. You send seventy-two clever, witty emails back and forth, the precursors to a great love followed by a fabulous marriage and a stunning life, until the person says s/he loves eggplant and you think Oh, I could never date an Eggplant Person, and the correspondence is off. (Unless of course, it’s a Super Eggplant kind of person, then we’ll get along famously.)

So we made plans to get a burger. I told her I’d be the one in the orange sweater. Thought that was distinctive enough, no? I waited inside Barney’s, strangely un-nervous, and watched a group of three come in. Thought to myself, she’s cute, but she’s with other people, can’t be her. But it was, she had accidentally run into friends out front. She was tall and a little unconventional looking. I don’t know what I mean by that, exactly. Huh. But it’s a good thing.

Anyway, we had a very nice time. We met at eight, and I didn’t get home till almost midnight. We both wanted to talk more, so we walked to a local dive bar that I knew, and we sat and drank beers and laughed. I have NO idea what’s going to happen now, and I don’t really much care, to be honest. It was just nice to be out, to listen to someone new and interesting, to be listened to.

Nice. All right. ‘Nuff.

In knitting news: the lavender Lush is out for Rogue. Several well-intentioned friends have advised me that not only is Lush HOT as hell (and I could overheat in a snowbank), but after regular wearing, it haloes so much that the cables are obscured. And I am SO not making such a gorgeous sweater with such incredible cabling, only to have it be a fuzzy too-warm blob. That’s what my cat Adah is. I don’t need another one. I’ve finished the cabling in both sleeves (I had been doing both at once) and will finish them up, I think. And then in the future, I think I’ll just make a simple cardie to attach the sleeves to, but that’ll be after Cromarty. (I think I’ve decided to totally copy Cari and do Rogue, eventually, in Cascade 220, in that lovely green she has–she swears it’s not mint like The Sweater I Hate).

Ah, knitting. I think I alarmed J last night with the fiber-chat. I tried to keep it to a bare minimum, but to people with no yarn experience, completely obsessed knitters can be a little overwhelming. She has no IDEA that I blog. Don’t tell, kay?

How ’bout a photo blog today, because I’m TIRED and LAZY. I absolutely adore going home to see the little mama, but I drive south the moment I wake up on Tuesday and come back Thursday night, and have to get up early on Friday to start my week. I completely neglect things like laundry and vacuuming. And sleep.

Yawn.

Oh, well. That’s the way the chocolate chip cookie crumbles. Like these:

Mariko gave them to me! And OH, are they good. Let me rephrase: Oh, WERE they good. See all those? All gone.

And here we are:

We’re in Bubblegum Alley, one of the tourist attractions of San Luis Obispo, which is midway between her house and my parent’s home. As a kid, I thought this was the coolest thing ever, and my little brain dreamed of owning all that gum, pre-chew. Now it’s rather germy, but still grossly cool.

We had a lovely coffee together at Linnaea’s, the coffee-house where I spent many, many under-grad hours. She was as delightful as you would gather from her blog, and I wished we had had more time together. She has the biggest smile! Again, it was weirdly Not Weird. You would totally think it would feel odd, meeting an on-line friend. But it doesn’t. It’s just like what it is: Meeting a friend for coffee. She’s a doll. (Another picture is over at her blog.)

Mom’s doing better! Still not much motion in her final diagnosis or treatment, but we did manage to bully from the PA a referral to the endocrinologist that she needs to see. The PA said that she was qualified enough to tell Mom that there’s nothing else to be done, that she’ll just have to ride the thyroid problems out, but I refuse to accept that, and I talked Mom into agreeing with me. And more, we talked the PA into writing the referral. So my mission was accomplished. HiYAH!

We managed to get to the movies, too. We saw Girl With a Pearl Earring, which was bee-yoo-tiful. And hello, Colin Firth. That man gets more ger-jess every time. I swear, he’s LoTR-Viggo-cute in this one. Mom says it’s just the hair, but she was a little swoony, too.

Here’s the little mama with her little cat Kahlua:

I realized while at Mom’s house that she has: One incontinent cat, one deaf/allergy-prone cat, and one hyper-thyroid cat. She sees the vet as much as she sees her own doctors. No, more. This one is the deaf, 16 year-old one. They manually hydrate her every other day because she suffers from kidney problems, too. Oy.

More pictures:

Driving home from the fabulous Mariko visit, I stopped off in Shell Beach. The novel I’m working on is set there, and I wanted to drive the streets, see if I could pinpoint exactly where my main character lives. (I actually did find the house, I think, but there was a fella working on his truck in her driveway. The cheek! I cruised past it a couple of times with the top down, and then finally shot a sneaky sideways snapshot, but I think I was made. Not a good photo, either.)

But here’s what’s at the end of the street:

This is where we like to have donuts in the morning, when Mom’s feeling up for it. Next time I go visit, we’ll be right here in the morning, listening to the seals bark.

Back on the road, I stopped off in the Arroyo Grande village so I could show y’all the Swinging Bridge. It’s behind City Hall, suspended over the little creek. As a kid, it was THE thing to do, run to the middle of it and jump or rock until the bridge got swaying enough to make a five-year-old seasick. As eight-year-olds, that was cool. Here’s the bridge:

And here’s me, just ’bout ready to run over it, all by my lonesome.

Dude, that was fun. But remember, while in the park, please don’t let your dog:

Now, isn’t that taking a visual cue a leetle too far?

One last image before I jump back into Real Life; these are the chickens that live behind City Hall.

That’s what kind of a rural area it is. Well, okay, it’s not THAT rural, there are more SUVs than pick-em-up trucks, but the town is ringed by strawberry fields, and the mayor is usually an acquaintance.

Now. Back to work. Happy Friday to you! (Rogue pics soon, I swear.)

*Random thought – I want TiVo. Bad.

Quickly:

I feel SO much better this morning. I believe it’s all due to my dear readers’ good thoughts AND Christy and Mom listening to me growl last night. And the hot bath helped, as did all the drugs I could find in my medicine cabinet – the panicked “two of these and one of these and oh, this can’t hurt, either!” kind of pill-popping. Not to worry, I don’t mix and match much, and we’re talking marrying tylenol with sudafed, but whatever I did, it worked. That migraine never quite latched. It was still revving up when I went to sleep, and when I woke, it was GONE.

Like magic.

I feel better equipped this morning to wrestle with printing the Rogue pattern, which I REALLY want to start in the lavender Lush (50% wool, 50% angora, ooooohhhhh). But if I can’t make it print, I have socks to do, and that’s just fine. Why did it feel like the end of the world last night?

Sometimes it’s the little things. The big problems I am equipped to handle. Those I can usually take and process and work with on my own. I’m strong enough for them. The little things like last night (did I tell you I dropped a glass full of water that then shorted out the teakettle? Grrr) are the things that make me crawl on the carpet (which I found out last night I REALLY have to have shampooed) in self-pitying misery.

Over it. And I’m happy that I get a long drive today. Usually I don’t look forward to it, but today I am. It’s raining softly, and it has been since last night, so I expect I’ll chase the rain during the four-hour drive south. The kitties are going with me, and Digit came back from his morning run, so I’m not worried about trapping him. I have a couple of new CDs to listen to and I plan on turning the brain off (except for the Steer Avoid Brake part) and relaxing. And hugging little mama by the end of the day!

I’ll be back on Thursday, prolly won’t post till Friday. So have a good week, all. And thanks.

No Koigu. Not the boys’ fault – they’re a shipping marvel. So no starting Cromarty this weekend (which starts tomorrow, Tuesday morning, when I drive Home).

No Imitrex. I was a very good girl and dropped the Rx off on Friday. My pharmacy is open all day and most of every night, so I was confident that I’d either pick it up before the next migraine or at the onset of one. This is the onset. And they lost the damn prescription. When they found it (twenty bright-light minutes later), there was no strength written on it. So they have to wait until tomorrow to contact my doctor to fill it. I can pick it up before I leave, yes. But the base-of-the-skull pain is building and this thing’s gonna be full-blown by midnight.

And I have cramps. (Yes, I see the migraine PMS connection. And I don’t like it.)

I want two things: A glass of wine. And a good cry. Both would only make the migraine worse, so I’ll settle for a bath and a cup of Sleepytime tea instead. And this rant, which helps a little.

The only positive thing is that I bought a cone of Classic Elite Lush in a discontinued lavender color and it arrived today. Maybe I’ll start Rogue this weekend instead. And I get to see the little mama tomorrow and Mariko on Wednesday. Things will look better in the morning, I know. They always do. But for now I need the lights out. Kay?

A kiss and a growl to you. Just like Digit (who’s worrying me by not coming when called tonight). See what he’s doing with this catnip Mousie?

Let’s all get our frustration out like that. Kill a catnip mouse or two. (Although yesterday he brought a really big-ass rat from outside. Oy. That makes my head hurt more to think about. G’night.)

** Addendum: An hour and a half later of being stupid and Not Going to Bed Where I Belong, I give up. Digit finally came in, so that’s one worry resolved. But Rogue’s last 5 pages aren’t printing. I give up. I’m knitting socks all weekend. Screw it. Bed. NOW.

Went out last night to a club in the City to hear some bands. My friend Jes Muse (her real name) is in a band called the Hunks. They were up second, after a one-man band. Now, let me tell you. This was bizarre. Bee-zare. His name was Fauntleroy. He wore a shiny purple sateen three-piece suit. He had a beard and a mustache, and was obviously either totally crazy or on something that you can’t buy at Safeway. He had Casio-sound coming out of his laptop that was plugged into the speakers. When he sang he jerked and twitched. He was a little tone-deaf.

But get this. He had the most amazing Tom Waits kind of timing, a very alarming use of language (this was NOT someone with whom I’d want to share a seat on Greyhound), and he completely won over the small crowd. We went from blatant snickering to rather shamefaced amusement to astonished admiration. Dude was working it. The tall skinny boys in the crowd wearing leather and spikes stopped touching their messy hair self-consciously. It went from Fauntleroy’s only friend boogying in the front row to all of us shaking our hips a little.

I don’t know why it touched me so much. And taught me again that you can’t judge a book by its cover. I’m ALWAYS wrong about covers.

Jes’s band was fabulous. Took a little warming up, but they’re good girl-punk, and Jes is freaking amazing on the drums. That kind of rhythm held in the body? I can’t imagine what that would feel like. My friend Rachel and I were the only ones really dancin’ it up, but we just couldn’t help ourselves. When you have to dance, you gotta move.

Now if only the boy next door played his drum set like that….

Today, PLEASE keep your minds focused on USPS. I want that lovely Koigu box from the boys to arrive TODAY. If it doesn’t, then I have no Koigu for the trip home for my weekend (going to see the little mama again). I want to start Cromarty! Now now now. If that doesn’t happen, then I’m taking the cashmere down south with me. But I’m just not sure exactly what I’m going to DO with the cashmere. It’s too bulky and tweedy for Rogue, and I just don’t know…. Thinking about a simple raglan vee-neck pullover. How can I go wrong? (Oh, the fear of Going Wrong with cashmere….) Hmm. Idears?