Rachael

Go read my sister Bethany today, since I worked another 14 hr shift last night and I am good fer nothin’. 52 hours worked in the space of four days. I slept all day.

All day…… Lovely blissful ignorant snuffly sleep. You know the kind.

Thanks to the offers (so generous and kind!) of driveways (or better!) for Bethy to sleep in! It makes Big Sister happy. Very very happy. And thanks to Greta, for the gift of kindness she sent to me. Love comes from so many different directions, doesn’t it?

It’s a good ole world. Earthquakes ‘n’ all.

I have a HUGE shout-out today. I mean BIG.

Lisa in NJ (except now she’s in Austin near her sister) sent me the best and sweetest message that totally made my day. My weekend. My job as a big sister a little easier. She’s gonna store Bethany for a day or two when she cruises through Austin on her Grand Adventure, whenever that might be. She’s going to let her stay in the driveway (she even offered a bed, although Bethy might not be able to accept this – she loves her truck, I tell you that much) and I just know that she’ll email me to let me know that Beth’s all right, that she hasn’t lost weight, that she’s still all smiles and my darling little sis.

I try not to let Beth know that I worry. (But I do. Just a leetle.)

And the weird part of it is this – that it’s not weird that Lisa would offer this. Other people won’t understand, but YOU, dear reader, do. This is not a creepy webring we’re part of. Knitters ROCK! Lisa’s my friend. Not my online acquaintance, not a stranger who has ADORABLE doggies, but a pal of mine that I’d love my sister to meet.

Lisa’s the best. Go tell her so for me, k?

And another shout-out to Greta, who sent good landlord vibes yesterday while I was waiting for him. Dude, he never showed up. Not before I had to work anyway. I may go another two years without ever meeting him. That’s just fine. Long as he doesn’t raise the rent and my toilet keeps flushing, I’m a happy girl. (Aside – just talked to neighbor in apt next door – no rent raise! Whoo hoo! Go, Greta!)

And now for the oddball section of today’s post: When I got to work last night (another twelve hour, and tonight I’m working another fourteen….), all the lines were lit up. I knew something had happened. Yup. Earthquake. Just a 3.9, but it was a jolt, apparently. I wouldn’t know, I had been on the freeway and hadn’t felt it. But it was centered somewhere right under my house, and I had predicted yet another one!

I know it sounds stupid, I’m the first to admit it, but I’m totally sick before earthquakes, anywhere from 20 minutes to twelve hours beforehand. I had told a couple of people at work that morning, and I had written it down on a work log device that I had been feeling what I call “earthquake dizzy.” It’s silly, but I like to keep track. I’m normally pretty reliable. And the level of sickness usually matches the intensity of the shake. The bigger the shake, the more nauseous I am beforehand. This was a little uncomfortable nausea, and it was a little shake.

I’ve done a tiny bit of research on this, and I can’t find any info out there on other people who feel this way. There’s plenty out there on kooks who dream about earthquakes and have visions and hear voices before the shake. But I don’t do drugs, and I don’t believe my cats are reincarnated apostles. I just get a little funny, like animals do. Anybody ever heard of this? (Apparently all day at work yesterday before the shake, they were getting animals-running-loose-in-the-streets calls…. poor things….)

Oh, no, now Lisa’s gonna retract her offer. I swear I’m not (really) crazy.

Worked on LoTech last night – all the pieces are done, and I finished the button bands. Just have to sew it together now. Yippee! Then I can start on the Wave/Shell KnitAlong. Oh, and I ordered some Noro Kureyon from Rob and Matt after seeing Ginny’s fabulous BoogaJ bag. What a fun knit week!

Here’s a snap of part of a button band and one of Adah early this morning, looking out into the yard. Happy Weekend!

Bethany’s on the road. You know that already. She’s the baby one, the 24 year old, and she’s packed up her pickup and she’s out on the highway. This makes me a little nervous. Not quite as nervous as it does our middle sister Christy, but I still worry.

So I’m making her a website within mine. OK? You wanna visit it and read about her, too? She’s a darn good little writer. It’s right HERE. I’ll make a link to her on the left, also.

Whoo hoo!

I’m so excited about the knit-along! We’re up to thirteen now (including myself of course; I like to inflate the numbers). Of course, that means I actually have to start it at some point soon. I finished the last pocket of the LoTech Sweat last night, and if I have the gumption, I’ll start seaming tonight. Then I’ll just have the button bands to do!

I have a sneaking suspicion it’s not going to fit. I might have made it very small. And I am not. Uh-oh.

I have things to say, and I can’t remember them. Those thoughts I can remember, I don’t want to write about. I’m in a dither. Nothing important, I’m sure.

I’m waiting for my landlord to come over. In two years of living here, I’ve never met him. He’s in town and wanted us all to get together. (I live in the bottom apartment of a large house.) That can’t be good, can it?

I’m going to distract myself from worrying – Do you know how great my cats are? I know, everyone says that, but no one else has a Digit. He’s such an asshole. He could go pro at it, I think. He’s the most curmudgeonly cat ever – he even growls sometimes when he’s purring. He gets confused.

Oh! But when I came home Monday night from the festival, I was in the bedroom putting things away, storing the old flashlights, generally puttering. And I Smelled A Smell. A far-off, dried up smell, but it was there. I sniffed my way around the room – you know the way you do. Traced it to across the room, near the bed, close to the window and found it.

Digit had pissed all over the down comforter. This had obviously been right when I left, since it was mostly all dried up. But it had gone through all layers of the bed. Only the mattress (thank you good sweet god) was unscathed. There was still a damp sticky yellow puddle at the bottom of the wall.

This is the most unpleasant aspect of a cat (well, that and cat spray and he doesn’t know how to do that, thank god). I swore and cursed and kicked my toe against the desk on accident. I LOVE my down comforter. And this is the second time he’s done it. He’s very clever. He’s only peed twice in the house, both times now on the bed, and one time he pooped a very small poop right into the heel of my Birkenstock. When it’s small like that and the heel is deep, you don’t notice the squooshing that’s happening until you’re almost out to your car.

He picks the things that are almost IMPOSSIBLE to clean.

Okay, now I’m irritated with him, all over again. But I love a challenge, always have.

While I was re-making the bed (after double-washing everything but the comforter, which I took off to the horrified cleaners), this is what he did. It’s his favorite game, being under the sheet, me grabbing and wrastling with his head while he flails underneath. It’s a growl-purr fest.

This is a great post on Craigslist.

Well, I’m disappointed. Just watched the final episode of Boy Meets Boy, and it wasn’t all I hoped it would be. (Of course, I did hope for a twist on the twist – Wes gleefully revealing that he loves the girls and Franklin reciting Whitman with tears in his eyes as he’s picked and whisked away.) My only consolation was that Brian was NOT picked – I loved him, he was the BMB version of me, all Pollyanna and kinda whateverish, sweet but boring. It would have been a copout. Maybe someday their eyes will meet in the bar and it’ll spark off again. Maybe someday, nothing. Might happen next week, since they live in the same area (how is it they didn’t know each other? Hmmmmm). I don’t think James settled, though, (even though Wes is still a little weasel, I think) and that’s the important part.

I’ve finally stopped crying, and I ain’t talking BMB. Got a temporary crown yesterday, and it hurt like hell. I had forgotten I was resistant to lidocaine. Why do I always forget that? Six shots of it later, it finally kicked in, but it always has the side effect of making me cry. Weepy, runny tears, over nothing in particular. I sat on the floor of my apartment yesterday, bawling because I couldn’t make the TV work and I wasn’t going to get my laundry folded before I had to go to work. Tired, achy tears. The exhausted kind.

And I kept it up all night at work, off and on. I’d think of someone I loved, and the tears would just slide. No effort, no headache, just tears. It’s the oddest feeling, and I’ve always reacted like that. I’m glad it’s over. Now I have to run off to work again, for an unexpected fourteen hour shift. I’ve had about an hour off today, not including sleep time. I fit in the taped show and writing this, and that’s all I’ve got.

Hope your day is lidocaine-free and happy. No tears. I’ll be glad to able to answer the phone at work clearly again, instead of puffy and numb, “Nine one one, juhashanemenshenchy?”