It was August the last time I posted? Holy crap, I suck at this.
So, the costochondritis cleared up, we had the garage sale, and the dog’s hot spots healed.
That about catches me up. It’s November already, and it seemed like a great idea to crochet a bunch of blankets using yummy, thick blanket yarn. They are so heavy and wonderful when you’re using them, but they are so heavy and hard to manage when you’re crocheting them. I’ve made 4, and am almost finished with number 5, and have 3 more planned. The one I originally made for my husband to use while on the sofa was eventually rejected as “too narrow, and not long enough to tuck under my feet.” *sigh* It now resides on our daughter’s bed, and she loves it. Husband still wants a blanket, made with not only the same type of yarn, but also the same color. He’s now gone to the back of the blanket line. Take that, sucka.
There’s just been a lot of life happening; the mundane, and the miraculous. Things we can share publicly, and some that, for *reasons*, we can’t, but nothing bad, thank goodness. In a month, Grammy will be 103.5 years old. Mom took her to get her nails done today, which she does about once a month. A lovely couple we know adopted a beautiful baby boy, and we got to attend the baby shower. I inhaled the fountain of youth, straight from the source. Nothing in life is as wonderful as the back of an infant’s neck. Nothing.
I’m actually feeling a glimmer of hope for the future of this country again. Recent election results are very promising, and I can only hope that this is the beginning of the end for the current incarnation of the GOP. I don’t even know how we’ll survive another 3 years of Commander Marmalade and Cult 45. So, enough of that. Just thinking about him causes me to become vaguely nauseated.
My husband and daughter are both in bed, and I’ve been just sitting here, crocheting, and listening to the latest Pacific storm to blow into the valley. My mind tends to wander in such moments, touching on everything, and nothing. I compose and revise lists in my head, prioritizing which things must be done first, and strategizing how to make the most efficient use of my time and energy. I’ve been flaring a bit more than usual this year, and I’m worried that this may signal a reduction in efficacy of my current treatment regimen. I also let my husband wrangle me into making Thanksgiving dinner, and inviting his family. It’s not a big deal. We are very casual about holidays, and our entire group would only be 8 people, and probably 2 dogs.
Now that I’ve written down most of the muck clogging up the pipes in my brain, I think I can go to bed, and hopefully be asleep before midnight.