Woman, sixty, and still trying to get it right. Stumbling the path toward the Divine. Discussing things like grandparenting, Waldorf education, child development, nature, human awareness, empty-nesting, breast cancer, and knitting luscious things once in awhile.
Well, let me tell ya about it. The end of it. Last night as I was eating my Weight Watcher's faire of 3/4 cup whole wheat pasta and 3 tablespoons of meat sauce, a whole broccoli plant and a salad for one (served family style) with seasoned rice vinegar, off popped the crown on my right (stage left) canine. Eight o'clock at night, I called the dentist for an appointment today. Camille calls me Captain (Captain Jack Sparrow) now. My tongue is so sore from cutting it on the rough edges. But you know how it goes when something is wierd in your mouth, it becomes a tongue magnet.
Theeeeen...I awoke at 3am with my whole room spinning at 500 miles per hour, nauseous and in a cold sweat. Freaked out. Got up, it was worse. Tried to calm myself with slow breathing. Didn't work. Woke Camille at 3:30 and spent the rest of the night in the emergency room. Diagnosis? I am having an episode of Vertigo. Scary movie? No, little stones in my inner ear. I knew Vertigo was an illness one could get, but I (so judgementally) thought it was a wussie disease. So you're a little dizzy? BFD Well, let me tell ya folks, it's a nightmare. Horrid. Unbelievable. I'm told it could be another allergic reaction to the mold at the school. I cannot be near that area under the sink in the school kitchen where I don't have a horrible reaction. I keep telling the landlords and they keep putting it back on me and something I did wrong (like knocking into the plumbing pipe when I store the bleach bottle). Brooke tells me it was like this when it was Blue Sky. All I can say is it's disgusting and now I'm sure it's making me sick. Tsk. Tsk. I'm not sure what to do about it.
Today I'm lying low, listening to the book Into the Wild on CD, taking Antivert and praying it doesn't come back. I can't drive for a week. But I can't read or knit either. Bummer. Except for the no tooth thing. I wouldn't go out for a million bucks anyway! Yep. My friggin cup is half full.
Remember a couple/three weeks ago I shared my Ruby Morning blog banner that the amazing, crafty (that covers so many things) heidi, over at daisybones, created for me? And in return, I was knitting her a hat and scarf and some cozy bedtime socks for Molly? I'm so close to being done...but don't ya hate it...when you run out of yarn at the very very end of the project and have to wind another hank into a ball before you can finish? Well, that's what happened to me as I knitted in bed last night, and I couldn't, just couldn't, pull myself out of bed to wind. So today it should be done.
But there's good things in waiting, cause as the box sits ready to ship I've been adding little things to it.
A couple of books on Waldorf education had the time to arrive from Amazon, since heidi showed interest!
And a little onesie from the store baksheesh, where Camille works. It is hand-dyed, with a daisy on the chest and a little "daisybum" on the rump. All the merchandise in this store is from third world countries and fair traded. This onesie was dyed in Ghana, and is signed by the woman who did the artwork.
Those are the little blue woolen sleeping socks with the onesie. Finally, of course, the hat and yet-to-be-finished-today-as-a-matter-o-fact scarf. I used Manos Del Uruguay in a wine red and accented with colors and textures from my stash, including some Ozark Handspun and some rich chenille (I no longer have the band from the ball). It's fun to knit for someone when you have no idea what they might like. Then I just freely do the color and texture blending that feels so right for me. It is my passion and delight. My daughter Brooke always reminds me that we need to cook with loving intention, so that the good vibe is in the food we serve to our families. That is how I knit too; especially when I am creating things without patterns. Then, what's not to like? Right? It's so full of love. heidi's only requests were that they match and that they were soft and deep reds and wines....voila?
The scarf is knitted horizontally and still on a 24 inch needle; but it is actually very long (an ample neck wrapper).
So now, off to the sink full of dishes and the laundry and the lawn that needs mowing. By the way...have you noticed I haven't mentioned Mom lately? Long story. And yes, she's still alive and bitching. Forgive me. It's just been rough.
Ruby Morning boasts the change of the season just as I expected and depended upon. Sadly, there was only one little boy there with me yesterday to enjoy it. Satch and I went to do a little watering and let the chickens out for a roam. Satchel was, of course, soaking wet and naked before I set my things down in the office. But the day was a balmy, warm autumn day and allowed for it. We found four eggs in the hen house (two that made it out) and Satchel's lost lizard in the sandbox.
Below is a photo of Frona and Pat (aka: Thelma). Why did we change her name from Thelma to Pat? Well, take note of the hen on the right, and compare her to the hen on the left. She has full on comb and wattle, looks very different than the other hen, but has yet to even squeak out one little cock-a-doodle-doo and is never sitting in the nesting box. So, remember Pat, from Saturday Night Live? 'Nuff said.
Sarah and Camille both grew their hair very long, to allow for 11 inches to be cut to donate for wigs for chemotherapy patients. Sarah got hers cut last week, Camille's appointment is next Tuesday. Here is a before shot. I'll post the after shot...well...after.
Brooke brought Satchel over this morning to spend the day with me. I made her do the bare belly pose...real quick. Here's some 19 week Brookie Belly. Lova is a petite little thang. 12 centimeters and 10 ounces...
And then we have some 28 week Shannie belly. Quetzali is a long and lanky thang:
OK! Daughter Brooke posted it on her very own blog so my voice can ring through the heavens!
I now have 2 grandsons and two granddaughters on the way!
I can knit lace and celebrate the moon and braid and powder and make daisy chains and serve tea and buy girlies and plastic high heels and candy lipstick and pink yarn; I can make jewelery and fairy wings and doll clothes. I'd like you to...
Yesterday I went into San Francisco with Brooke, Matt and satchel. I was privileged to be invited along to be with Satchel if the need arose. UCSF sits atop the hills of San Francisco; the beautiful place where Satchel came into this world and where we got a peek of the little one.
We had a long, long wait and Satchel was an angel. We read. And chatted. I mean, HE chatted. He has grown so much since he returned from his long road trip.
Today I worked at the school all morning and as it got to be noon, I remembered that Camille didn't have any lunch money so I ordered her a grilled cheese and myself a Caesar Salad. We met in the park to share the meal together. The Sonoma Plaza (the "park") was gorgeous today. The golden leaves had fallen, creating a blanket on the lawn.
Later I perused the bookstore looking for secondhand classics for son Alex. His birthday is in a couple of weeks and his buddy called me and said he was going to visit him, if I had anything to send. Speaking to Alex, he's longing for more Jack London. As a child, I often took him hiking here, a very short jaunt from our home. He loved it the most, climbing through the ruins of the old Wolf House, and up the rocks and trees. I found a couple titles that he has yet to read, and tucked a few autumn leaves that I gathered, between the pages for him, "from home".
The valley is a kaleidoscope of color as I drive down the highway snapping photos on the move!
And I don't think I've ever told you. Sonoma has its very own ghost tour, Strange Wine I was reminded of it today as I drove past one of the homes that is said to have some spirit life. I remember years ago when Camille and I were doing an early morning paper route to help Alex earn money for his Europe trip. It was way before dawn and she spotted the residing spirit through the window. Consequently, she'd scrunch her little girl eyes tightly closed, with little fists pressing on her eyelids with all of her might, whenever we drove by after that morning. This is that house:
Brooke and I are both Scorpios. We need to take this tour together for our birthdays.
We are so going. I wonder if I should invite Camille?
On October 23, 1994, my son Zak was critically injured by a classmate playing with a loaded 12 guage shotgun. This boy's father had carelessly left it by the basement door that lead out into the vineyard. On that day, Zak's angels were with him. Looking back, it is quite unbelievable.
Like so many of us stand, his left forearm was bent and resting against his waist. He was shot at a 3 foot range. He lost his forearm but the only internal organ that was hit was his spleen. And that didn't even have to be removed. After 5 units of blood and over 40 hours of surgery within the next week, his arm was rebuilt. So was our life. Ten more hours of surgery in 2003 made the broken bones a little stronger once again.
I love you, Zak. I cannot imagine life without you. I thank the heavens (and Doctor Coe). Today we all celebrate you!