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It’s Monday. That doesn’t quite mean for me what it does for the rest of the world. It’s still my weekend, and I’m still cruising along in low gear. I’ve had a whirlwind of one so far, so it’s nice to just sit and stare into the computer’s glow.

Stitch’n’Bitch at the bar was good, although anticlimactic. Only four people total, and only about an hour, it was the last one I’ll hold there for at least six months while I’m on my new shift at work. I’m glad, though. I don’t like being the One In Charge Of The Group. I like to GO to functions, not throw them. I’m looking forward to having nights off and being able to go to the Crafty Bitches’ Wednesday night group at the Lex. Or Tuesdays at my LYS. Or Mondays at Barnes and Noble (I know, but it’s run by a very sweet woman who spells her name, Rachael, correctly).

Bleah. Stilted and slow this morning. Have been trying to wake up for an hour now. It would really help if I went in the kitchen and made myself an espresso, but the countertop is black with ants, and I can’t bear to deal with them.

I HATE ants. They take my apartment hostage every fall, and I fight and fight and fight and eventually I capitulate and do the horrid bombing that’s the only thing that really works. I hate ant spray, I hate poison of any type, so it makes me CRAZY. I’ve tried the home remedies, the cucumber rind, the boric acid, (fill in the blank). Do you have a miracle cure that doesn’t involve substances that can kill small animals and cause visitors entering the room to twitch jerkily? (Wait, that might not be the ant spray….)

So, if I walk into the kitchen, I’ll have to do something about the ants. As long as I can avoid that room, I’m all right. I think I’ll just sit on the couch and eat the fudge my sister Christy just brought for me instead. Sisters are good things, yeah? Bethany’s in Montana now, at a friend’s house. Lynn’s actually an ex of mine, one of those people I’m glad to have been able to keep as a friend. A year she got fed up with rat-race that is corporate life in the Bay Area, sold her Oakland loft, and moved to the wilds of Livingston, MT. She has two dogs and a cat and an old Victorian in a train town. She’s friends with the mayor. She attends charity auctions. She rides horses. From everything I hear from her, I’m not sure that her life has really slowed down in any way, but the timbre of it has changed. It’s nice to watch. And I’m glad Beth is under her kind wing for a few days. It sounds like Beth’s been running a little fast (carnies and the Wal*Mart parking lot), and it’ll be nice for her to slow down some.

Oh – here’s a picture of the Ethiopian flag cake – no, I didn’t make it (are you kidding? You know what my kitchen is like right now. A coworker of mine is brilliant at cakes; not only do they look good, but they taste GREAT. I think I had two pieces. Maybe three).

The party went off smashingly – who knew Jenn had so many friends? A going-away party for someone moving to Africa for a year: It was like a wedding without a groom, or a funeral without a body. Everyone from all parts of her life were there, and it was sweet as heck.

I have Digit drooling on me, and I’m in a hurry (have my last Stitch’n’Bitch this afternoon – have to discontinue or move the meetings, since my new schedule will preclude meeting on Sunday afternoons). After the meet-up, I’m taking a cake decorated with the Ethiopian flag (who knew?) to a going-away party for my best friend. She really is actually moving to Ethiopia. For a year. That, folks, is daring – even braver than Bethany’s road trip – and I want to visit her early next year. I think. I’ll wait to hear from her before I pack my bags, though.

Went out last night, a charmed-type evening where I fell into a friend’s dining plans, and had lovely, easy conversation with pleasant people. Ended up playing pool at the White Horse till all hours (people thought Karen and I had a Pool Thing going at the table and no one challenged us for at least a couple of hours). Drank a few 7 and Sevens, and I think I was flirting shamelessly. No, I know I was. I have phone numbers on napkins. I feel about twenty-one, and my headache agrees with this estimation.

Not much work on the LoTech Sweat done. I only need to sew it up, and I’ve been LAZY. But Rob hasn’t – here’s his progress on ONE of the Wave/Shell Shawls he’s doing:

Oh, the Cascade Indulgence of it all. Have a good, relaxed Sunday.

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.