Not So Much to Be Proud Of

Yesterday, DH was very proud of himself. He got several important household chores done, and still had time to watch several hours of TV recorded on our DVR and enjoy himself.

Unfortunately, I am a casualty of his industriousness. At one point he called me out into the backyard to hold the ladder while he went up in a tree and finished removing a tree limb injured during one of our recent storms. While I was walking out to the ladder and making noises about missing the mimosa tree that got cut down a couple of years ago, I managed to step badly into the hole in the ground left by said (ungrateful!) mimosa tree, and down I went. My left knee felt a bit twisted, but the problem is my right ankle. It had been behaving strangely already – it felt like there was a cramp there, but not in a muscle, in the joint. Then it would go away. Now, however, it was clearly twisted and it often doesn’t like having weight put on it. (This is quite funny, as if there is anything my legs and feet can count on, it’s having weight put on them.)

I’ve been wrapping it in Ye Olde Ace Bandage for the support and taking ibuprofen for the pain and mild swelling. But since I have also been limping some, now a muscle in the opposite leg is also complaining. There are days when it feels like my entire body is in rebellion about something or other. Sigh.

Today I had to climb a set of stairs, which went better than I’d expected. Evidently my Birkenstock sandals make the twisted ankle happy. My counselor has also recommended the massage oil we originally made when I strained my wrist muscles finishing the Olympic Socks. So I’ll do that, too. And she loaned me a hunk of fluorite to help with the swelling.

I was hoping to try the Bob Sock on Bob today, but due to a broken foot on one son-in-law and various grandchildren appointments that still had to be met, he couldn’t be there. Next week, though.

Today I was running some errands after my usual Tuesday appointments, and I found myself getting very sleepy behind the wheel. I think maybe it was because I got overheated at some point or something. Dunno. But I found that if I closed my eyes while sitting at a red light, my brain went into the drowsy dreaming. This frightened me and so instead of running another errand, I headed home and took a three-hour nap. (And I was actually drinking coffee while this happened. This is why I say caffeine doesn’t affect me.) Since I was gonna nap anyway, evidently, I decided that in bed rather than behind the wheel was preferable.

I did, however, find one of the metaphysical stores where I will be taking my Tarot class on a field trip. I found the old store, which was still listed as their address on their web page but which is now Blue Moon Glassworks. (Looked interesting, though. I may have to find out what they do there.) Fortunately my friend Victoria knew where they’d moved to, so I found them there. I got myself some crystals and hematite and things to use in “cleansing” my cards. They also had some Kwan Yin’s like the one I lost, except not in hematite. One was some sort of manufactured stone, which doesn’t interest me. Another was in red jasper and the third in tiger’s-eye. I will be speaking to my gemstone knowledgeable friends to see if either of those would suit my general purpose.

My plan for tomorrow was to check on some beginner-type Tarot books, which will mean putting weight on the injured ankle again. Plus I need to run the rest of the errands that had been scheduled for today. If I can, I guess. Don’t want to do so much that it impedes the healing of the ankle! But the amount of time till I will *need* a beginner Tarot book is getting smaller and smaller, so I think that has to be done! Then I can sit around the house and make notes about what I want to say and made handouts.

A Pretty Good Weekend

It’s been an interesting weekend!

First off, I got my Blogger for Word working again! It occurred to me in the middle of the night last night that perhaps what I needed to do was see if Blogger was a toolbar that could be told to come back. Sure enough! There it was, and there it sits nicely in my Word again. Very cool!

Yesterday after the church service there was a committee meeting. (This is not uncommon. Probably the most uncommon part was that there were only two committee meetings scheduled at the same time.) There has been a controversy involving this committee, and my understanding was that the controversy was going to be attending the meeting. Again. I managed to miss it last month, but really couldn’t do that this time. (Though another member and I were contemplating playing hooky to do something even more fun, like bungee jumping or beating our heads into the nearest brick wall.) However, the controversy didn’t come to the meeting, so we had a fine time, made some necessary decisions, and adjourned to enjoy ourselves in other ways.

Saturday was really cool. There was a wedding at my church! (Anyone who wants to see pictures can see some by an actual professional photographer at http://tinyurl.com/ga2xq.) The wedding was very sweet. There were about four women sitting together (one of them being me) and when G’s (the one in the gold) voice kept breaking with nerves and emotion, we were all going “Awwwwww” together. It was in many ways a traditional wedding, though of course it doesn’t make for a legal marriage. (The injustice of that makes my blood boil.) The company was wonderful. I had a great, wide-ranging discussion with my friend Leah, who I just don’t see often enough any more. (She acquired a boyfriend and an afternoon/evening job.) We discussed reincarnation, Tarot, and history, among other things. Later, after dancing began in another room, I snuck off to do my actual job of putting together the Sunday morning program, and several friends found their way to the office. We had several of our own little parties.

I got a chance to talk with my one friend that I haven’t seen in a while and do a small amount of clearing of the air, which was great. We also talked knitting. (I really need to see that sock!) And several of us discussed the only negative aspect of the whole thing (aside from the discrimination of not letting this couple be legally married), which was that the Negative Influence was there. She was, in fact, one of the female attendants. (Grooms-maids? Matrons of Honor? I think maybe Women of Honor.) Said Negative Influence took advantage of being there to make an unpleasant remark to me – in front of her five-year-old daughter. Being the bigger person, I ignored both her and it. Although I did tell several friends, since our silence has always been one of her weapons. DH suggested she thought she was hurting my feelings. (Ha! That ship done sailed a good three years ago!) At first I thought perhaps she was hoping to provoke me into causing a scene which would certainly make her look like the victim she’d like to be thought, especially if it happened in front of her daughter. But really, I’ve decided that it was a case of nerves. Here she was, in a building full of people who would vastly prefer to never see her again (including, I’m told, one or both of the wedding couple!). And she was going to have to stand on the stage and try to look happy, when we all know she’s quite miserable and getting more so all the time. Plus her two older children were participating in the wedding procession. (They were adorable, especially the daughter.)

Being the bigger person, as I said, I can almost (not quite, but almost) feel sorry for her. Perhaps a few more months of a healthy church community will get me all the way there. In the meantime, I pretty much treated her as if she were what DH calls her: The Furniture. As in, when she came to a performance of my women’s chorus, “The Furniture is here.” This was a suggestion of a friend, and it works wonderfully. Furniture, after all, is not harmful, as long as you stay away from the sharp edges. It can even be useful on occasion. But, you know, it is necessary to have strong boundaries with furniture. You can’t allow it to take over your house, office, or church. It needs to stay in its correct place and perform its designated function. The headboard of your bed, for example, is not a couch or table, nor does it get to decide it needs a new mattress every year or something. And if it misbehaves, breaking, or poking you when you’re not looking, or trying to become the dining room table when it is clearly a coffee table, you either fix it, move it on to the next owner, or (if neither is feasible), retire it. Yeah. Furniture.

I left the church building Saturday night a very happy woman. This was a good thing for DH, who managed to not make it to the wedding on time and was in danger of justifiable homicide. However, his life was spared by the wonderful party and a Starbucks card. (Note: I can be bought with white chocolate mochas. Or yarn. Should anyone need to know that.)

This morning I replied to the Yarn Harlot’s post of today with a weather comment. Because I am just crushed to discover that it can get as hot in Toronto as it gets in Texas. (I suspect not for as many days in a row or as often, though.) And she actually replied to me! (You’d think a 52-year-old woman would be too old for hero worship. You’d be wrong.) I think people in the next county over could hear me squealing!

Oh, and here’s something that’s also helped my depression and irritation. This week I took a look at what sort of TV will be attempting to entertain me this summer, and frankly the picture is bleak. More non-real reality TV. More reruns of shows I didn’t want to see the first couple of times through. Bad movies. So I joined Netflix for at least the summer. Whether we’ll keep it longer than that remains to be seen. I’m on the one-at-a-time plan, since it’s the cheapest. And I’ve already made a queue of a bunch of stuff, most of it various mystery shows and some musical things. The first DVD arrived Saturday and I watched it yesterday. It was a disappointment – a British mystery series that was (deservedly, I’m afraid) short-lived. I liked the actresses, but the plots were beyond obvious and silly. The next one is a better reviewed British mystery, The Midsomer Murders. I hope to be watching that by Thursday, and I hope it’s better than the first one! This gives me something to look forward to all summer, which is a good thing.

I’m also anxiously awaiting the arrival of my Mother’s Day present from DS, which he thinks is The Opinionated Knitter by Elizabeth Zimmerman. I don’t mind stretching Mother’s Day out for a few weeks, but there’s a baby due in a couple of weeks at church and I need the book for the pattern for the Baby Surprise Jacket! I was thinking the baby was still a month away, but I was told that a couple of weeks ago and amazingly the same amount of time has elapsed for the mom and baby. Now, this being Texas (have I mentioned the quote from the Mexican-American War general before), the baby can surely wait a few months for a jacket. But I would like to get started on it before he actually grows out of it. I sure hope it will be here tomorrow!

And I’m preparing for my Tarot course, which starts next week. I need to go this week to various bookstores and look at various Tarot books. I also spent some awake time in the middle of the night last night worrying about where my Tarot kit had disappeared to, but found it in the dining room this morning. So that’s good. I do need to get a book or two, so I can make handouts for the class. One thing I’m looking for is an online place where those without their own deck yet can go to draw a daily card. Any suggestions? I’m also thinking I’ll get DH to add whatever it is my computer needs to have added so that I can scan cards. I could then do the drawing myself and everyone could study the same card. That might be better. Dunno. But suggestions for various useful Tarot 101 places online would be welcome. And there’s one New Age store that folks keep telling me has moved to a new place. However, its online presence lists the same address I remember it at. I should track them down and see if their Tarot selection is still good. Maybe Wednesday would be good for all that.

And that’s the news from my Own Personal Lake Woebegone. Things are currently looking up!

Reply to Anonymous

Thanks! I don't often run into anyone else who gets my opposite of SAD. Especially living in Texas, which I admit is not ideal. At least in the summer (which runs here from about April till Halloween).

My two main ways of dealing are antidepressants and air conditioning. Oh, and even though I'm what you might call a full-figured woman (as in, my figure runneth over), I wear shorts and pedal pushers and light-colored clothing. There's a lot of white in my summer wardrobe! I may not be decorative, but I'm easier to get along with.

Thanks for the note! It's nice to know I'm not alone.

It's Picture Time!

It's newsletter time at my computer, which means that I download pictures from my camera, which means I have pictures of kittens and Simba. Buckle your seat belts, folks, here come the Kittens of Chaos!

Here's Ray Ray, back on April 22, taking a widdle nappy-pooh on Simba's "tree".






And here's more of the nap. I just thought he looked awfully cute!








And here's both grandbabies, up at the top of the tree. Ray, obviously, still wants to play. Temperance, just as obviously, doesn't. Clearly she envisions a nap in her immediate future!















Here's more Ray, from May 5, in one of his favorite positions. His rear end is resting comfortably on the sleeping tray. The front two feet, however, are carefully poised for flight or play on the perch in the window. And all his attention is drawn to something-or-other outside that's utterly fascinating. It could be a bird -- you should see the two of them, sitting together watching a bird fly by! Or it might be a dog or a person or two walking a dog. Doesn't matter. It's all just Kitty TV to all the cats. (Except that Angel is very disturbed by water falling from the sky or running down the street or moving at all. To Angel, water sitting still in a bowl is a good drink. Moving water is Kitty Solvent and is to be avoided at all costs. The other cats enjoy watching the rain.)

Here are Temperance and Simba, sitting on the top sleeping tray, keeping an eye on Ray. Ray is somewhere down the hall, doing something that has their attention.

Just for grins, notice how well Temperance's collar goes with my blinds. Someone in this house loves purple. Guess who!





The next day (we're up to May 11 now), Ray (left) and Temperance are again glued to the Kitty TV. There's always something worth watching out there!











Here's Ray. I think maybe something startling must have happened. That's definitely a "What Was That?" look on his little face.















Later that day, Simba and Ray were fighting over the top sleeping tray, which is the most loved sleeping place in a house stuff with wonderful sleeping places. I couldn't catch them with their fists up, unfortunately. It was all batting and putting the ears back, no hissing or spitting or growling or anything serious. Occasional attempts at nips, but nothing that would draw blood, so I just watch them and laugh.

Clearly, something has happened elsewhere in the house, and that's broken up the fight momentarily.


Ray is easily distracted. Like his Daddy, we believe he is ADHD. Also, he's been left in possession of half of the sleeping tray, so why shouldn't he get comfortable? Simba, however, is in charge of the house and needs to know what's going on!










At this point Ray has decided that sleeping is more interesting that whatever that noise was. Simba is still trying to figure out what's going on, but he's beginning to look just a bit irritated.

After this Simba gave up the fight for the top sleeping tray and went to see what sort of unauthorized thing was happening in his house!







And here is that beautiful boy!












And finally, here are the babies (Ray up top, Temperance below) being forced, very much against their will, to be petted and loved by their Daddy. You can tell they just hate that. It cramps their style!

Seasonal Affective Disorder

It's that time of the year. The time when my depression kicks it up a notch.

Most people with Seasonal Affective Disorder feel it in the fall and winter. Me, I get it when it gets hot. I've had Mays when I began to feel adolescent levels of depression. Last year (year before last, maybe?) I felt like a big black hole opened up in front of me as I drove home from my Women's Spirituality Group one Wednesday. Fortunately, for the last five years I've been able to tell that this is the Summer Depression, to recognize it for what it is, and not let it get to me too badly. Sometimes I've upped my medication dosage (with the cooperation of my doctor!). Sometimes I just deal.

This year, what with the fairly large dosages of antidepressants I take on a regular basis, the advent of the Summer Depression has been different and a much smaller event. This year I'm not really depressed so much as ... irritable.

I began noticing it last week. I was irritated with DH, for no good reason. I was irritated with DS -- although with good reason. I was irritated Saturday night with a couple of people, and the thing that was irritating me wasn't even their fault. (And now that I know who's fault it was, I'm not even surprised. Frankly, I've spent the last three years irritated with him; why should I stop now?)

I've even been irritated with myself, as in when, as when we were voting for our new Officers and Board and such at our Congregational Meeting on Sunday. The guy running the meeting says, "All in favor say Aye!" and I said "Aye!" "All in favor say No!" And I said "No!" Why? Dunno. My mouth was on and my brain wasn't, maybe? I certainly didn't mean it! (And if you're reading this, Gregory, really, I'm awfully sorry. I *really* didn't mean it!) But I'm still irritated with myself.

I may even be contagious. This evening DH and DS had a little blow-out -- in which, unusually, DH was totally right. Normally when he blows his top there's plenty of fault to hand to both parties. This time, DS was completely, totally wrong. He may even know it, since he didn't run into the front room and attempt to 'splain to me how picked on he was. Not that it would have worked, since when he did come in here, I added my comments to his dad's. He got awfully quiet after that. And, btw, can I just say, a nearly 23-year-old man living with his parents has no business complaining that he's being treated like a child? Particularly when he can't even wash his own clothes? I'm just saying.

Anyway, I guess it's progress that my depression is just irritation. On the other hand, I was able to discount the depression. I recognized the disordered thinking involved and could get past it. I don't seem to have that skill with irritation. I may be difficult to live with for a bit.

Not too much to report on on the knitting front. This is newsletter week in the S household, which means I have to stop myself from doing all sorts of things that are more fun. Here's another place where I'm irritated with myself. See, doing the newsletter for the church is, mostly, enjoyable. Occasionally it makes me want to tear my hair out and defenestrate my computer -- but that computer is now DS's computer and this computer, mostly, behaves better. And most people get their stuff in on time (except for Chuck, of course), so that's better. But with my usual talent for procrastination, I find that all sorts of other things that I've been meaning to get done all of a sudden get done when I should be doing the newsletter. Sigh. But I'm getting better, I really am. I did stop a little earlier than I expected to this evening, after having to deal with a particularly disgusting paragraph (newsletter readers will not have trouble identifying it) that turned my stomach. But I'll get back on the horse tomorrow.

So, not too much knitting. I did try the fingerless glove, gauntlet part, on DS's arm and I pronounced it fit fine, so I need to cast on the second one. (Not as much as I *think* I need to, though.) And progress was made on the baby blankets on Saturday and last night while watching this week's Doctor Who. However, one of the moms made more progress than I did. Late last week the twins, both boys, made their appearance in the world, so I need to get working on those blankets. (But I need to do the newsletter first. Sigh.)

Decidedly Odd

So, I woke up this morning again with a dream about UT. This time I was spending a lot of time with a young friend of mine named Amy. Amy was a few years younger than she currently is and was going to UT. She was living at a much nicer dorm than any I've seen at UT, created from an apartment building near campus. It included covered parking.

Anyway, the real Amy is going to be taking some classes, but not at UT. And where, I ask, were her lovely baby and sweet husband? Huh? I ask you, where? (Not to mention my own husband, who also attended UT?)

Anyway, I was asked to help orient her to UT, which I was happy to do. We spent hours, mostly driving around, while I told her about my exploits at UT. (Now that I think about it, I believe DH was mentioned some in that.) And about my parents, who met when my dad was teaching Navy ROTC classes. My mom was born in Austin and lived here till sometime in junior high. And my maternal grandparents, who also met while attending UT and who, obviously, lived here till their oldest child was in junior high.

We had some fun times, Amy and I. Then, just before I woke up, Amy informed me that my constant history lessons were boring. (I assure you that the real Amy would never be so rude!) But how bad is it when your own subconscious says you're boring? I was quite crushed, I tell you, and spent the rest of the car ride wishing I could sink through the floorboards of her car and right into the road. (It can, I admit, take a lot to get me that quiet.)

However, I woke up when Sophia Petrillo from Golden Girls and her sister -- and I mean the characters, not the actresses -- showed up. They were in some sort of crowd. I don't think that startled me into being awake, though it certainly should! Instead, it was time to wake up to watch my favorite soap opera. But still. Quite a mix of reality and non-reality. UT had spread all over that part of Austin. Which it has compared to when my grandparents went there, or even from when my parents lived in the area. (The LBJ Library, for example, has parking lot where one of the houses my mom lived in as a child used to be. And the buillding that housed her junior high is now the Education Annex.) It hasn't gobbled up quite *that* much of the area, though! Nor could it, because just across the road to the south the land belongs to the State of Texas, which is unlikely to sell it to UT, since the Capitol Building is just a few blocks south. However, reality rarely gets in the way of what happens in my dreams.

It's just odd to me that I keep dreaming of UT. I haven't been near campus since we WON THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP back in January and I performed the traditional Austin ritual of gathering with a few thousand other celebrants to take pictures of the Tower lit orange with a big white number 1 on it. (This is a picture from the night of the football game. I can't immediately find my pictures with the 1 in it. But they're around somewhere!) My son is not contemplating attending UT. In fact, no one I know personally is going there or considering going there. Frankly, I feel that the school can get along with my dreamy contemplation. Can we dream of something else now, please?

Knitting Content: I'm working diligently on the fingerless glove for Bev. I'm quite liking the way this colorway is working with this stitch count. The repeats of color are short enough that they aren't actually pooling (which is kinda a shame, as I like the occasional pool of color). But there are a darker turquoise and a lighter one, along with some light green, and those are pooling in a sort of stripe pattern, with the pink just adding interest. So I've decided this is the correct stitch count. I will, when next I can get my hands on DS, which won't be today, try it on his forearm, but I do think this is the right way to go. (Cause making my color sense happy is the most important part of fit, right?) The next "interesting" bit will be decreasing down for the wrist to palm part. I'll be trying that according to the pattern directions. (Which is a novelty; how often do I actually follow a pattern? Not often!) But I'll put in a lifeline in case ripping needs to occur!

Tomorrow is the monthly meeting of my local Knitting Guild, so I'm debating actually putting the fingerless glove aside in order to work on finishing the baby blankets. Cause I want to show them off, and it's better if they're finished.

And I'm still awaiting my Mother's Day present from DS. DH gave me a loaded Starbucks card, which is what I asked for, and I've been enjoying it thoroughly. DS bought me some stuff from my KnitPicks wish list, but since he did that on the Wednesday before the day, it hasn't come in yet. I know when he ordered it, as he was sitting in the same room with me, and I'd printed out my wish list and circled the items I want most. (This is still an improvement over last year, when both my birthday and Mother's and Father's Day went unnoticed by The Offspring. This year, I put a pretty and colorful sign on his bathroom door. I should probably make a Father's Day one today.) Anyway, it'll be interesting to see what he decided to order. There are both books and yarn on the list. It can come any day now, as far as I'm concerned!

Oh, and great thanks to DH, who came upon me two afternoons ago, swearing at Blogger. That entry with all the pictures was causing Blogger to throw up its hands and refuse to post it, claiming there was a problem in the HTML. DH is a programmer, who speaks a little HTML. I speak very little indeed. He sat down at my computer (which normally he is not allowed to touch, you understand; we are not compatible, computer-wise) and played with the HTML till it was fixed. Thanks, darlin'!

And that's the news from Austin, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the football teams win National Championships.

Look! Posts Two Days in a Row!

Knitting update: I was sitting and knitting on Bev’s fingerless mitten in my Women’s Spirituality Group this morning, when I decided, for whatever reason, to try it on. Just for grins. Well, I didn’t grin. It fit my forearm very nicely. The only problem is, of course, that that means it’s too small for Bev. Frog, frog, frog. (Rip-it, rip-it, rip-it.) I have started over, with two more repeats. (That puts the stitch count up to 84, for anyone who’s counting.)

This of course makes my startitis very happy. The other good news is that that pesky hole in the wrong place mistake got ripped out with everything else! Although I don’t really know how that mistake got in there, I do know how to keep it from happening – keep counting stitches! So, I’ll be doing that.

Oh, and I got Bob’s Sock to a point where I won’t have to cry too hard if I have to frog it, but it should be enough for him to say if he likes the pattern. So I’m stopping there.

The other good news from today is that I have discovered where the negative influence in my community has gone. There’s a somewhat larger alternative church sort of “up the road” from us, to which we have “lost” members before. A few of them I was even sorry to see go! She is evidently radiantly happy there, having joined on their first day there (nothing like taking a look around to see what suits you, huh?). I have before felt like we owed them an apology for some of the folks that moved there, but never so much as now! However, they evidently have a different sort of community structure and possibly a different attitude that enables them to absorb these folks with less damage to their community. Good for them! And good for her, too. I doubt it will take too long before she begins to grab power and start dividing folks in angel and devil camps again; she can’t help it, I guess. And in a few months I’ll likely be able to feel sorry for her (and for them). For now, I’m just happy that she is permanently gone!

And now back to New Orleans pictures.

Saw this bumper sticker parked outside our hotel on the street, the whole time we were there. We saw a shirt later that said something about crawling home, too. I liked both of those!

This was a bar up the street from our hotel called the Erin Rose. If you look at the sidewalk in front of it, there was a picture on the sidewalk. (I think a shamrock, but I never got a good look.) It looked like chalk, but I saw someone sweep over one time and rinse it off on another, so clearly it wasn't chalk! Although the major cultural influences in the Quarter are French and Spanish, the Irish have certainly added their flavor, as well. And, as you can see, the two-story building has a small living quarter upstairs from the bar, with a balcony, not a gallery, nicely decorated!

This was the view down Bourbon Street (towards downtown) from Conti Street. It looks clean and nice, doesn't it? Looks are deceiving, folks. Even first thing in the morning, when the garbage had been picked up and everything looked lovely, it stank. And it wasn't, as one would expect, the smell of urine or vomit or any other bodily fluid, or even mold or something from the hurricane. It smelled of garbage. And it was much worse at night. Much. We only walked along Bourbon Street a very little bit, as I just didn't care for the smell at all. And I don't have a terribly sensitive nose, either!

And this is Bourbon Street from Conti, looking up the street. A bit less clean and neat and a bit more seedy-looking. Still smelled bad, though. We didn't go hang out in any of the bars -- climbing the stairs up to our room would have been very much harder on me if I'd had a drink or two!

This is a statue of Jean Baptiste Le Moyne, the Sieur de Bienville, founder of New Orleans, along with a Native American (with whom he had good relations), and a monk. Here is a website with some information about Bienville and his brother, who were very important in the development of the Gulf Coast. (My favorite part is the explorer who first found the Mississippi River who, when he came back to the area, couldn't find it!) There is a Bienville Parrish in Louisiana, but it's not the parrish New Orleans is in. (That's a very Texas way of doing things, actually. There is an Austin County here, but Austin the city isn't in it. Houston isn't in Houston County. I do believe that Dallas is in Dallas County, but Dallas always was weird.) Here is a much bigger picture of the statue, from a different angle. A fairly obnoxious, nose-in-the-air look on his face, isn't it? The statue is between North Peters and Decatur Streets, at about the point the French Quarter becomes downtown New Orleans.

I was told that Bienville put the city where he did because it was the best place between the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain. It was the least swampy and highest above sea (and River) level land in the area, which is why the Quarter had almost no flooding during Katrina. Supposedly, Bienville chose this land on the advice of the local natives. Good choice.

And here is a look up Decatur Street, towards downtown. (The statue would be to the left, just out of the picture.)

Poor DH. On our last night there, he was determined to find gumbo. He grew up on gumbo and all sorts of Creole-type food, and doesn't get much of it any more. I can't stand the stuff, myself, or the smell. And I don't allow him to eat crawfish in my presence. (I played with the things when I was growing up! They're toys or maybe sort of pets to me! Would you eat a cat?) Anyway, I was feeling fairly exhausted after a long day on that night, so he set forth to find gumbo, the less fancy the better. His first stop was the sign you can see in this picture: Gumbo File. He assumed, as would anyone just seeing the sign, that they served gumbo there. Sadly, not so much. Instead it was just another t-shirt-laden tourist shop, which Decatur is littered with. I think he did finally find some gumbo, somewhere, and he brought me back a very yummy hamburger and a beer, so it could have been worse.

OK, we still haven't really started our first day good! But I think this post is long enough as it is. I think there's maybe one more post before the actual site-seeing stuff started (maybe two, come to think of it), including some of the t-shirts with which those shops were laden, a very, very odd statue, and a creative and friendly panhandler. Stay tuned!

Catching Up

Wow! It’s been a while since I’ve blogged!

I think maybe I’ve kicked the sinus infection with the second round of antibiotics. So that’s a good. And I survived my weekend marathon. Now, those of you who know me know that the idea of me in a real marathon is a complete joke – and you’re right! Instead it was a musical marathon.

On Saturday, May 6, I had choir rehearsal at 11:30 am at church. I left as 12:30 pm to get to Tapestry rehearsal by 1:00 pm. Finally, I had to be back at the performance space (St. John’s United Methodist Church) at 6:15 for sound check for the concert. (You can see a picture of us in our performance outfit and on the stage at our website.) Finally, on Sunday morning I reported back to church for our spring Choir Concert service.

That’s a lot of singing for me. Even an hour or so of singing with some force can leave me with a hoarse speaking voice (though not singing, for some reason), so I was concerned about that, as well as just the effects of all that work and concentration and such on my energy level. So I kinda went through the motions for the rehearsals, and had plenty of voice for the Saturday night concert! And since I got to sleep before the next concert, that was OK, too.

The Tapestry concert went well. We have recently lost our accompanist, just a week before the concert, and I think that worried all of us. Fortunately, someone found a really, really great young woman to fill in. She had the music about a week, but you’d never know it by her performance! She was really great, though I think she was embarrassed by all the thank yous and expressions of gratitude, both in front of the audience and privately. I doubt she could know how much her ability and her presence meant to us! Now they’re forming a search committee to hire a new one, and I have high hopes.

The audience Saturday night was fairly small. It didn’t help that as the doors open we had yet another thunder and lightning storm and heavy rain. We’d been having those pretty much nightly for more than a week, but some of the large hail and straight line winds had knocked down trees and power lines earlier in the week. We were concerned that the power might go out at the church, but we were fortunate and were able to see our music!

Sunday morning was, in a way, almost even more satisfying. Our choir director, Rebecca, had challenged us with excerpts from Vivaldi’s Gloria. Then she challenged herself by hiring a small orchestra, mostly of very good high school students. We met them first at the Saturday rehearsal, and they were quite good. (Here’s a picture of the choir and some of the orchestra, taken by my friend and second unit for newsletter photos, Jon Montgomery. I'm the one on the farthest right on the stage.) We sounded pretty damn good and with the addition of the orchestra, were even better. And the last movement (which sounds great but isn’t, in my humble opinion, all that hard) pulled people into a standing ovation. The whole weekend was exhausting, but wonderful.

Since then I’ve mostly been coasting. (I like coasting.) I’ve got several people signed up for my Tarot course at church this summer, which is exciting. I’m really looking forward to that! Because we’ve had so much rain, the outside is a lovely green right now, and that’s pleasant. All too soon it will be light brown and very hot, so somewhat cooler weather (though I need the air conditioning inside) and green growing things is nice.

OKC: I finished the knitting part of three baby blankets. I tried something different with them. When my son was a baby (nearly 23 years ago now!) towels for babies came with a triangle hood thing on one corner, to help keep their little wet heads warm. I’ve seen that in patterns for the knitted-on-the-diagonal blankets like I did, though they wanted the triangle knitted separately and sewn on. Why, I thought, knit it separately? So I unvented (as opposed to invented) the idea of just knitting the blanket to the corner, then increasing back out into the triangle, and stopping when nearly out of yarn. I did that on all three blankets. Now I just need to sew the sides of the triangle hood down, block them, and send them on their way. The twins are due any second now. I also have the wristlet for a friend with rheumatoid arthritis to finish – it just needs a thumb and sewing up a bit. (It’s a double thickness so she can put an ice pack in it to help reduce swelling in her hands when she works.) And I’ve got the second pair of Olympic socks to finish as well as a pair from a lovely green and red sock yarn from KnitPicks. Both pairs of socks are for me.

But am I working on any of that? No, of course not! I have, according to The Yarn Harlot, startitis. According to her, this hits her in the spring and seduces her to begin projects when she has others she needs to finish. Yep, except that we’ve had spring since sometime in February, that pretty much describes me.

I’ve started the first of the Longhorn-colored socks for my friend Victoria’s husband, Bob. I’m using merino fingering weight yarn from Mystical Creations in a slightly custom colorway. The yarn is very fine, really almost lace weight, so I’m using size 0 needles and lots of stitches. (112, I think it was.) I did two inches of 2x2 rib for the cuff, then picked Baby Cable Rib from Charlene Schurch’s book Sensational Knitted Socks, which is rapidly becoming my socknitting bible. I’ll do an inch or so more of the cable rib, then I really need to try the sock on Bob. He teaches about a 5 hour drive away from me, so until school’s out, I think I’ll end up having to put the sock aside in a bit. Since I still don’t know if it fits or if he’ll like the pattern (I’m told he’s picky about his socks), I haven’t done my usual trick to avoid Second Sock Syndrome, which is to start the two at the same time. I have some trepidation about that, but the idea of ripping out two socks is even more anxiety-producing!

I also started the first of a pair of fingerless gloves for my friend Bev. She was complaining about how cold her fingers get when she types, and she types a lot! (Of course, they’re not cold now. It’s summer.) Since she lives in California, I’ve had to find other ways to see if things fit. So I had her take a couple of measurements, and I’ve done some measuring around my house, and I found that DS is a close enough fit for the arm part of the gloves, and DH is close on the hand part. I suspect his fingers are a bit thinner, but one stitch bigger will likely be enough. I’m still sorta kinda swatching, in that I’ve started one in the pattern, but I want to get it a bit farther before I try it on DS again (and besides, he’s napping right now – why didn’t he have this napping habit when he was three?). My basic pattern comes from Not Just Socks by Sandi Rosner. The yarn I’m using (Hawaii, from KnitPicks) makes stripes in whatever needle size or stitch count I’ve tried. This annoys me. I actually like a bit of pooling and find straight one row striping boring. So I’ve chosen the gauntlet style of arm thing that’s shown on the cover of the book. (Same basic pattern as the Mermaid socks in Lucy Neatby’s Cool Socks, Warm Feet.) This breaks up the striping nicely and, in my opinion, shows off the colors better. Aside from some sort of mistake early on, I think it looks pretty good, and I think I’ll be kludging that mistake and closing the hole where no hole should be, somehow. (Shhhh, don’t tell Bev, OK? She need never know!)

So this is startitis. I have four projects near enough complete that I can practically taste them, so what am I doing? Starting new ones. It’s a sickness. Plus, I just discovered that a woman in my church is not only pregnant, but due in a month. (I was very surprised – I had not noticed her looking particularly pregnant! Plus, her partner had a little boy last year, and I never expect people to have kids so close together. Why, I don’t know, except I guess that DS convinced me that every baby needs at least two full-grown adults for proper maintenance.) Also, a friend of DS’s is pregnant. So I really need to make at least one more baby blanket, since I didn’t do anything for the woman at church’s partner last year (long, unpleasant story) and I feel bad about it. I have not mentioned to DS that I’m thinking of making one for his friend, in case I don’t to that one. Startitis!

Speaking of church, a wonderful thing happened last week. A member was breastfeeding her young son in public and she and her family were asked to move and told it was “indecent exposure”. When our email lists found out about this, people mobilized. The management where this happened were called (more than once, I think), laws looked up, supportive emails written, and people who hadn’t been nice to each other in a while were nice to each other and working together. Before they were done (the next day) the management had been re-educated, the employees there retrained, all sorts of apologies issued, and free tickets offered. I sat back and watched in amazement and pleasure. “There’s my church! I knew it was around here somewhere!” It confirms my suspicion that once the major negative energy is removed, we’ll be able to pull ourselves back together and be ourselves again, loving and supportive and helpful. I’m loving it!

College?

It's probably just as well that I don't believe that my dreams are premonitions, or I'd be terribly worried about the dorm I lived in when I went to the University of Texas. Twice in the last few days I've spent a good deal of my sleeping time in that Dorm (Jester).

Several nights ago I dreamed that a hurricane was bearing down on Jester and the kids living there were in great danger. The building, like buildings in most of my dreams, didn't resemble the real one much at all. Jester, which is already fairly tall and with lots of windows, was even taller and with much more glass. It was also damned nice inside, much fancier than it actually is. About the only resemblance to the real one was the color of the brick and the fact that there were two connected buildings. Oh, and there were elevators (which should be obvious in a tall building, I guess.)

Anyway, I had evidently saved the building and the kids in it from the worst effects of a hurricane when I was a student. (Note: neither I nor Jester Dorm have ever been through a hurricane.) So now I had come, in the person of Bea Arthur, to work my magic again. I have no idea why I looked like Bea Arthur, but I did. So I was rushing around the dorm, eating from a cafeteria that more resembled a cruise ship's variety, elegance, and 24/7 availability than Jester's real cafeteria, getting kids to put lumber up on the windows, getting them to gather, with mattresses and sleeping bags, in the elevator lobbies (which were unaccountably without windows), and telling stories about how we solved this the last time, calming fears. I also had to make sure that the other part of the building, which is in reality an all-male dorm (or was when I lived there), had all of the fancy shops and restaurants and such closed and with everybody out of them. It was all fairly wild.

This this morning found me back in Jester. I was there with my mom and much, MUCH, MUCH, younger brother (in the person of my son, actually), to take said brother (let's go with DB) to Jester to live while he went to the university. I think he had lived there before, but not successfully. (Note: my brother is only 3.5 years younger than I am and didn't attend UT at all, nor did he ever live in Jester.)

Jester this time in some respects resembled the Jester of the earlier dream. The rooms (much nicer and larger than in reality) were about the same, and the building was taller again. Evidently DB had spent a whole year living in Jester without once eating in the cafeterias nor ever collecting his mail. I remember trying to convince him that the cafeteria (not as nice as in the earlier dream, but still better than in reality) was not as bad as he had heard me describe it and that he should save money by eating there regularly. Then I was showing him where to pick up his mail. There I was helped by a nice little old lady, as the boxes from which we used to get our mail had been replaced by office inbox looking things, with the room numbers printed almost illegibly on them. (Which would, I think, not be terribly legal, as you could see all the mail everybody else got.) DB's room was 311, so he was going to be safer when the hurricane hit. The lobby, with all the elevators in it, looked more like a really fancy glass and steel office building than a dorm, and I'm still having trouble remembering what the actual lobby of the real Jester looks like! But, after I talked DB through collecting his mail, we went separate ways for a bit (I think he went to class), and I noticed I was missing my wallet from my purse. The purse was different than the one I currently carry, but the wallet was the same. (I will be keeping a close eye on that wallet for a bit, I think!) I was just beginning to feel panic about what I had in the wallet (not many credit cards, but a little bit of money, voter registration card, driver's license -- all the real stuff, actually) when I thankfully woke up. I was quite glad to realize that the wallet is safe!

Yeah, It's Been a While

It has indeed been a while since I posted. I've been dealing with a sinus infection, which is much, much better. I'm on my second round of antibiotics, but I seem to be doing much better. I've also been taking things a bit easy -- I've got two concerts this weekend, one on Saturday evening, one on Sunday morning, plus two rehearsals Saturday. This is asking rather a lot of my store of available energy, so I've been doing a lot of resting this week especially.

But I did want to show you a cool picture. This, I am told, is the current cover of Sports Illustrated. I wouldn't know for myself; I haven't looked at SI since my dad died in 1985. But my church community is all abuzz about this one. I hope everyone recognizes the Big Guy in the picture. That's our hometown hero and local god Lance Armstrong. The smaller guy to his left, in the yellow shirt, is Spencer Sartin. Spencer is a cancer survivor, still being treated for leukemia, and he's a member of my RE class. (RE is Religious Education, and it's what Unitarian churches call our Sunday School.) Spencer is 5 (or maybe 6). He was diagnosed in October 2004. He's an amazing kid, smart, funny, often kind, strong-willed, and definitely a fighter. He also has amazing parents, also smart and sometimes funny, very brave, and definitely fighters. And he has a younger brother who is quite adorable.

Anyone interested in learning more about Spencer and his family and his fight against cancer can read his dad's blog. I'm proud to call Spencer one of my buddies. I think I'm gonna have to buy a copy of SI and get him to autograph it.

On the knitting front, I've got two of the three baby blankets all knitted, needing only to have loose ends woven in and some blocking. Also, I added an additional corner with the rest of the yarn (like the little hoods on the baby towels we had when DS was a baby), and those need to have their ends sewn onto the blankets. The third blanket is getting close to that point. I won't have any of them ready to give to the moms-to-be at Saturday night's concert, I'm afraid, but I believe I'm beating all the births, so that's something. I think I'll be ready to go back to socks when I finish these!