Two Days

After a pretty horrid few weeks, I had a couple days this weekend to actually enjoy.

On Saturday Scott & I went to see "The Help", which we enjoyed very much.  Great acting, interesting characters - at over two hours, the movie still seemed short.  And of course, going to lunch and then to the movies doesn't take much energy or effort, which is a good thing.

On Sunday we broke out the scooter and hied ourselves to the Great Minnesota Get-Together - in other words, the MN State Fair.  We watched the equestrian competitions, we watched the lumberjack competitions, we saw Sean Emery do his Schtick On A Stick, and of course I spent a reasonable amount of time looking at the quilts and knitting and lace and beading and felting and crocheting and sculpting and glass.

We are old, and my system is messed up by chemo, so we didn't eat the junk food that we would have gorged on in Olden Times - over the 6.5 hours we were there, we split a sandwich, a bag of mini-donuts, a little Lingonberry Lefse roll with Swedish Meatballs... and we each had our own frozen apple cider pop from the Agriculture Building.  That was it.

But thanks to my scooter, a grand time was had by all ('all' being two of us).  We recommend that you go, too, if you can.  But get there early if you want a parking space close to the fairgrounds - there's plenty of 'Park & Ride' lots, but the Fairground lots are being taken up by Light Rail construction materials, so parking is at a premium and even at 7am we had a lot of trouble parking within five blocks or so of the nearest ticket booth.

Enjoy!!

Is A Puzzlement

All my life, I've wanted to serve jury duty.

Yes, I know that usually you just sit there forever in the waiting room, doing nothing.  And you don't get paid for it (at least, not really).

But it's a service to your community and your country, and I've always felt that service was a good thing.  Paying back your community for all the things it provides you is something you should do, willingly and with a sense of satisfaction.

And if I actually got to serve on a jury, even better.  I'd be a good jury member.  I'm fairly bright, I am fairly logical, I'm big on details, I respect at least the ideal of the law and justice, and I'm relatively driven to be as fair as possible to all sides.  I enjoy doing things I'm good at.

And I've worked from home for most of the last two decades, and have a flexible schedule, so it wouldn't inconvenience me in the least to serve, other than perhaps a certain soreness in the back or knees from sitting all day.

During the last two decades my husband has worked either two jobs (sometimes two full time jobs) or one job with 10-hour days.  He has been called to jury duty twice in that time.  It's been a huge sacrifice for him, and although he is mindful of his duty, he really would have preferred not to have to take the time from work.  Our finances have never been what you'd call comfortable, so it was a bit of a hardship for the family.

Now my 21-year-old son has been called.

I have never been called.  Not once.  And at this point I'm not likely to be allowed to serve, even if I am called before I fall off the perch - my physical condition would now prevent me from eligibility.

Figures.**


**At least in this case, as the quote goes, the law is an ass.  Why can't people volunteer to be on a 'will call' list for service when their time is flexible?  Then if they are summoned again when it's less convenient, they can be excused on the basis that they have served in the last four years.  It would be so much easier for people, and the courts would have to deal with fewer whiners and shirkers, saving time and frustration for everyone.  I'm just saying...

She's Posting, She's Posting Not

I seem to be completely out of control of both my life and my blogs at the moment, so I'm resorting to cross-linking.  Sorry about that!!  But not sorry enough to refrain from doing so...

If you want to know what's been going on lately, check out my other blog here.

For decoration, I give you this photo.  If you link to the other blog, you will see the reason.

Poor Old Kitty

We have had one type and size of cat for 15 years or so: small, feisty, pretty, dignified (for the most part, except when hysterically clumsy) and quite the character.

She was well into adulthood when we got her in 1996, and so now she is an elder kitty, deserving of respect and care.

Unfortunately, for the last few months she has been unable to adequately clean herself, and has developed mats that were outrunning my ability to comb out.  It would take me half an hour of fighting with her to get one mat cleared, and the next day there would be two to take its place.

It got to the point where it just couldn't be comfortable for her, poor old thing, and I was concerned that she might develop some sort of skin issue that would cause her actual pain.  So off we took her to the groomers, and gave her a 'Lion Cut'.

She won't let me take a photo of her in this condition - she is currently in a state of High Dudgeon.

Can't say that I blame her.  Her head is literally twice as big as her body.  Poor old thing, she deserves her dignity, and instead she looks entirely ridiculous.  And pitiful - she is SO thin and bony.

I think of the three, she prefers being old and arthritic to being an object of ridicule.  Too unfair that she has to put up with all three.

I can relate.

Summer Hats

I've been wearing some really lovely hats this past five or so weeks, ever since the hair all fell out (see my cancer blog for explanation of that, unless you've already been reading it).  My friend Timary crocheted some lovely tams for me (see post below for photo of the one she made from my handspun), and I have a velvet hat that is just cute as a button (or at least, it is cute as a velvet hat with a big old flower on it).

Okay, you can't see that very well, but it's a hat with a band, to which the slightly poufy top is sewn above and to which the brim is sewn below, with the velvet rose attached (to hide the band's seam, as well as to look decorative).  The brim can be left down all around, per this photo (taken with computer camera, which is why it's not very good) or the front can be folded upwards, which is jaunty and fun.

But these are all Cool Weather Hats, and suddenly after months and months of snow and ice and frigid temps, spring is coming in a huge rush.  Now all my beloved hats are making my head sweat!!

Mom and I went to the local wig/hat store, and to Target.  We searched for hats, we peered at hats, we patted and pinched and fondled hats, we even tried hats on. 

Unfortunately, we learned a couple things.

1.  I don't look particularly good in caps, and all the hats that are out currently seem to be either big froufrou Easter Bonnet/Go To Church hats (lovely, but not for general wear) or billed caps.  I need a frame for my face, and to add some balance, since my head is relatively small in comparison to my body.  Not a HUGE frame - those big 'garden hat' brims are hard to manage, and tend to want to fly away in even a slight breeze.  I don't want to constantly hold onto my head, or worry about my poor bald scalp being exposed.  The above hat serves the purpose well, while still sitting snugly on the head and not threatening to turn me into a remake of The Flying Nun (my goodness, I imagine that reference ages me!)

2.  The colors this season seem to be brown, tan, brownish-gray, white, or red.  I do not look good in brown or red, and even a nice silvery gray gets a bit dull and anonymous after a while.  If I'm going to wear a hat, I want to look festive and I want to have fun with it.  I like white well enough, but it gets dirty quickly when you are sweaty... and women with hot flashes sweat a LOT in Minnesota summers.  Frankly, so do most of the rest of us Minnesnowtans.  But let's face it, I am a woman with many, many hot flashes, and I am a woman who does not 'glow'.  So even though white theoretically goes with just about everything, it's not going to work as a 'running errands and visiting friends' hat.  And a whole wardrobe of white hats would be a bit monotonous.

So I'm wondering if anyone has some patterns for hats similar to the above (or knows where they might be obtained), so that mom and I could sew up a few in fabrics and decorations of my choice?  Wide-brimmed cloches or moderately floppy-brimmed hats that can be folded up in front, that would look cute with flowers or pins or random balls of yarn stuck on them?**


** Well, okay, that last one was a joke.  Probably.  Except at a fiber arts gathering - then all bets are off.

Been There (Both Sides)

With thanks to dear friend Debi, I give you this.  Is it a tad manipulative and simplistic?  Well, heck, yeah.  Does that make it less true, or less important to remember?  Well, heck, no...

Why I Am Not Here

The last few weeks have been trying and difficult ones.  I haven't had either the heart or the energy to post here, I'm afraid.  I have, however, been reporting in on occasion over at my other blog, so if you haven't visited there already, please do link on over and give me a little visit.  Hopefully I will Get My Groove Back at some point in the future... so please stay tuned, my friends.

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

My new roommates have taken to fighting constantly, and it's driving me batty.

It doesn't help that the heating ducts create a magnifying resonance to their voices, so that I can hear them swearing at each other very clearly from nearly anywhere in the house. 

I guess it's their business if they want to beat up on each other (I can hear the blows falling), but it would help if they weren't so da*ned shrill.

I wish the cat would put a stop to it, but she's old and deaf, and sleeps right through the altercations.

Sometimes I hate winter.

Stupid mice.

On Handcrafts, Why We Need Them

Every once in a while somebody says something that makes you nod to yourself and think, "Yes, that's exactly how I feel!"  This wonderful bit of philosophy by Renate Hiller explains why we all need to use our hands to make bits of 'useful beauty' in the world:

Las Vegas Is Awesome, Part the First

We are back from our little vacation. Now we need a big vacation in order to recover from our little vacation.

I'm going to start with a nap.

Wish me luck.

Go, You!!

This is for my son and his friends.

Young adulthood can be a wonderful time, but it is also full of pressure and stress and unrealistic expectations and fears for the future. All of this because you don't yet know who you are. Your strengths, your challenges, even your weaknesses... you are really just discovering these things and don't yet know what to do with them.

To add to the discomfort, there are plenty of people willing to give you their opinion - and whether they really have your best interests in mind or not, whether they are right or not, those opinions can hurt. And figuring out what to do with the information you are being given can be tough and confusing. It's not always easy to tell the difference between Persistence and Idiocy.

So here's the thing. When you are feeling confused or dismayed or stressed-out about a particular issue, talk to your gut. Find a quiet place, take some deep breaths, pay attention to the sound and feeling of your breath going in and then out of your body. When you feel relatively calm, explain (silently or out loud) the situation to your internal guide - your gut - as though you were telling your best friend about your problem. Since you are speaking to your best friend, expect a sympathetic yet honest hearing.

Choose two options (or three, but your clearest answer will come from the clearest, simplest choices) that you are seriously considering as actions that will address the problem at hand, and say each one - out loud if at all possible - as though you have already decided to take that action. And then just pay attention to how your stomach and body feel as you make that statement. Make each statement as simple and positive and immediate as you can. Use the present tense, so that your gut believes your statements and reacts to them directly and clearly.

For instance, if you are deciding whether you want to accept a job that will pay your bills but that seems like a dead end, or whether you will decline the job and risk losing your apartment, you might make the statements:

I will take the job.
(pause to assess your body's reaction)

I will not take the job.
(pause to assess your body's reaction)

You could, if you like, add a third...

I will take the job, but save $200 per pay check. If I am unhappy in a year, I will have a cushion that will allow me to quit and look for something else.
(pause to assess your body's reaction)

Your stomach or your muscles are going to have something to say about these statements, if you pay close attention. Some statements are going to cause discomfort, and some will feel less troublesome. That is your gut, speaking to you. Pay attention. Your gut is often a lot more in tune with your Intuition than your overworked brain is.

And if you are feeling overwhelmed and discouraged, remember this:

We Are What We Eat

With thanks to friend Denise for posting it to her blog, I give you this - because it's important that we know what we are doing to the Earth, and to ourselves. You can put those two things in either order, according to your own beliefs - it's equally compelling either way.

This is a movie, not a quick video segment. But it's well worth taking the time to watch.

October Is A Good Month

October is my favorite month. The leaves turn colors, the weather is suitable for all things woolen, the air is crisp and so are the apples... what's not to love?

Not only that, but there is Halloween/Samhain. Not to mention my 21st wedding anniversary. And my sister Jana's and brother Joel's birthdays (happy birthday to yooooooo... love you guys!!)

From now until the first of the coming year, it's Holiday Madness - Hooray!!

AND October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and Non-GMO Month. Please link to information on both issues, if you aren't aware of them already. They are critical to your health and the health of those you love. Take action where you can, educate where you can, get involved where you can.

Have a wonderful autumn, everyone!!

So There

In case my friend Roberta is feeling all gloaty-faced about the fact that it's currently ten degrees warmer where she is (in Sunny California) than where I am (in Minnesnowta) - and I only point this out because I am currently under the covers in my bed and I am STILL shivering and have snoticles forming at the tip of my nose - I would like to say for the record that according to the weather reports I will be the warmer of the two of us by the middle of next week.

I'm just saying.

I especially want to point the same thing out to my beautiful cousin Chris, who lives in Reno, NV, where it will be in the 80's today. Yeah, you feel all happy and warm now, but who's going to be top dog on Wednesday, eh? Upper 60's, baby, that's what I'm talking about...

*********************

Why, yes, I do think my brain may have developed frostbite and dropped several black shriveled sections onto my bedroom floor. Why do you ask?

Nets That Catch Minnows But Not Sharks

A long time ago I let you know about the FCC rules that now dictate that if a blogger (such as myself) were to get a free sample of - let's say yarn, for argument's sake - and were then to mention that yarn or brand name on my blog, I must also clearly post that I have profited from my relationship with that maker. Even if I recommend that yarn because I truly believe it's a wonderful product; even if I have in the past refrained from recommending other yarns that were sent to me as free samples.

Well, my darling readers, evidently we unpaid bloggers are held to standards that your highly paid newscasts and talk shows can blithely disregard. They can run what amounts to extended paid advertising, pretend it's legitimate 'news' (often under the guise of 'consumer interest' stories), and never reveal to the audience that they are watching commercials for products, rather than unbiased reportage.

You can read further about this in the L.A. Times here and here.

Aren't you glad that you have huge staffs of tax-paid governmental employees - many of whom have bigger paychecks and better benefits than you do - ever on the alert to protect you from the predatory minnows of the blogosphere? If you keep your eyes on that, you might not feel the shark gnawing on your leg quite so keenly...

I'm Glad We're Not Their Problem (Any More)

My son was homeschooled after his fifth grade year, and now he is in college. So it's been quite a while since we've darkened the door of a public school for any reason not involving governmental elections.

But when my son was in grade school, I spent a few years with our inner-city school district, teaching kindergartners to read and sometimes dealing with the EBD (Emotional/Behavior Disorder) kids. I spent some of that time in the Principal's office, dealing with the kids sent there by various teachers for disciplinary issues of one sort or another - disruption of class, fighting, stealing, cutting class, refusal to participate, sassing or hitting the teacher. There I often had the privilege (koff, koff) of meeting the child's parents/guardians, and listening to their interchanges with teachers and with the principal himself.

My experience is that for the most part, kids with discipline and/or EBD issues have absolutely no problem functioning well when given an environment in which there are consistently applied expectations and boundaries. Even kids with neurological issues - although many of the kids with EBD/discipline problems were actually very bright, indeed. In fact, the disciplinary problems were usually the sharp-witted ones.

It was unfortunately a rare occasion, indeed, where the parent called into the principal's office behaved better than the child in question. Once or twice a year a parent would sit quietly through the explanation for why they had been summoned, then apologize and offer an explanation for the child's state of mind, or ask for advice. Occasionally the parent would offer excuses having to do with a neurological condition, often blithely stating that nothing could therefore be done about the issue. But for the most part, the parent would blame the teacher, school policy, other kids, the homework, the babysitter, the government - anyone but the adults who theoretically were actually raising the child in question.

Usually this blaming process involved raised and snarling parental voices; sometimes it also involved banging or flinging of objects and pointed flouncing from the premises with the added punctuation of a slammed door. And unfortunately everyone was aware that it would probably involve the child ending up back in the office many more times before their school career was done.

Which is why the following comes as no surprise. Except in its honesty and lack of political correctness... I can't imagine the litigation-fearing schools of the U.S. would dare do any such thing.


Thanks to Susan T.R. for bringing this to my attention!

Invisible

Why is it that I can never find my Chibi when I need it?

Just askin'...

Moosles. Meesles. Meese With Sprinkler.

Thanks to Barbara at Pathways for the following (insert 'Awwwwwwwww...' here):

Fourth Memories

I'll tell you about our 4th of July weekend tomorrow (or so), but today I will share a memory. I know that usually I try to respect the Offspring's privacy and dignity, but for now I will reveal a memory that is at the forefront of my mind today...

The kid was very sensitive to sound from babyhood, but by age 5 or 6 he also loved the idea of things blowing up, and he loved bright lights. So we decided to take him to the fireworks display for the Fourth.

At that time, there was a huge display that took place over the Capitol Building in St. Paul, and we found a tall hill hidden behind a public building about a mile away from our house that provided a perfect view of the festivities. Not only could we see the Capitol fireworks display from that vantage point, but in the distance we could see earlier displays going off in many of the far-flung suburbs. This kept our impatient wanderer properly entertained while waiting for the Main Event.

It also evidently left him unprepared for the percussive sound of the larger, closer fireworks. As soon as the first explosion sounded, Bren immediately through his blanket over his head and refused to even peek out for the rest of the display.

But our little performer was still exactly who he has always been; after the first few minutes, after each explosion there would be a pause, and then from the darkened depths of the fabric heap came a tiny piping, "Oooh!! Aaaaah!"


Happy Independence Day, dear readers. I hope your memories are as sweet as mine, and your enjoyment of the day as deep.

Shoes of Doom. More or Less.

I have never had good feet. Or perhaps I should say that I've never had feet that were good for shoes.

Which of course means that I LOVE shoes, I'm very picky about shoes, and I pretty much have hardly ever been able to wear the shoes that I actually like. I have very, very wide feet and pretty much the highest instep most shoe personnel have ever seen. Lucky me. My feet are pretty much built like shoe boxes. In other words, my feet are meant to surround shoes, not to be bound within them.

There was a short period during the 90's where there were shoes I was able to find that both fit and I loved them. It was a period of Period shoes - lots of Victoriana and styles from the 20's - 40's. So I found a pair of black suede Victorian button-down boots that I adored, and a pair of bone leather flapper-era pumps that I similarly loved. And a bunch of really cute flats in all sorts of fabrics and leathers and colors, with fun decorations.

But things went swiftly downhill from there. Styles changed - years where very pointy toes are In are generally years where my feet are really, really Out. I had a baby and the all too common foot-spread that accompanies that process. I got fatter, and so did my feet, which didn't help. All in all, that was pretty much the end of fun shoes, barring a brief but joyful period where I sported a pair of butterfly-bedecked quilted chinese flats that were both obscenely comfortable and silly-but-cute.

And then two years ago, due to a suggestion from a friend who has perfectly normal feet but whose style is somewhat similar to mine, I found Haflingers.

Sorry, dear Violet Hoarder, but I LOVE my Haflingers. Not, I admit, as much as the above-mentioned shoes, but they are comfy and they fit my lifestyle; hey, they are made of WOOL, they are FELTED... how much more thematically appropriate can you get?

So when I went shoe shopping, yes, I looked at other shoes. I'm only human, after all, and I do love shoes. But when push came to shove, I got the Haflingers. I'm all about the comfy.

But if it makes you feel any better, I think these ones are pretty darned cute. You know, for Hippy Throwback shoes...