Yellow moon on the rise

Last night's supermoon, not a very good photo, but the best I could do with the sorry-ass tripod I have and not being so great on the manual settings on my camera.



I haven't blogged in almost a month. Where does the time go? Things have not changed much, other than the snow has mostly melted and the shy little flowers are starting to poke heads out of the ground.



There are buds everywhere on bushes and trees.



Spring seems poised just beneath the surface, ready to leap out.

I've finished a couple of knitting projects. First, the Blooming Garden shawl.


I really enjoyed the process of getting the clues week by week and watching the pattern unfold. It was quite challenging but quite rewarding as well.



The pattern, as I mentioned before, was brilliantly written and Tiziana was right there for support and encouragement the whole time, so to her I say Brava, and Grazie!



I also finished the Blue Skies pullover.



And I really, really like it.





I like it so much I'm willing to post a rare photo of myself wearing it because I think it's just that awesome.



I did make some modifications. I'm not sure the designer had actual test knitters in the largest sizes because if I'd done what the pattern said, it would have been open way, way, way lower than I wanted it to be. So I closed the front sooner than the pattern said. I also did the neckline edging as a seed stitch band that matched the edging on the sleeves and bottom. Much better. than the crocheted edging that, judging from what I read on several Ravelry projects, did not lay flat anyway.

So I started another sweater, this time a cardigan.



Doesn't look like much yet but it'll be awesome if it's big enough. It's laceweight yarn on larger needles so I'm hoping it'll be nice and light and floaty.

In spinning, I finished spinning the Corgi Hill Farm batts.



I ended up with a personal record, almost 800 yards of lace weight yarn. No idea what I'm going to do with it yet, for now I'm happy to have finished it. I did the singles on a spindle then plied on the wheel. Considering I started this project on christmas day, it's been rather long term.



The new spinning project is a BFL/tussah silk blend, also from Corgi Hill, on the same spindle, roughly the same weight. I have some of Cosymakes' falkland that I want to spin to a poofy bulky yarn soon too, though.



Won't that make something neat for a little boy?

Personally, things are pretty unchanged. I have new glasses coming. My leg is STILL not right from when I fell in December, and I'm doing battle with an ulcer on the back of it to boot. Not fun. If it doesn't heal soon I'm going to have to go to the doctor. I've been walking more as the weather improves, though, so hopefully the forced circulation from walking will help the healing process. I hate having this half-dead leg, making everything more complicated. Suppose it beats the alternative.

Still no word from my daughter. Every time I think the pain can't get any worse, it does. I thought I saw her driving down our road yesterday, when we were on our way home from dinner. I got almost happy because I thought maybe she came by and left a note, or called, or emailed, or something. But nothing. I continue to have dreams about her. The whole situation is very sad.

Lily is still adjusting well to being an only dog. It's fun watching her personality change as she gets used to her changed role.



Bob's been able to get her out more often so she's starting to lose her winter pudge.



Not her silly, though.

And while you're at it, take yourself back too.

One of the more unpleasant side effects of gall bladder removal is the abject refusal of your digestive system to behave in a normal and predictable fashion. I've managed to get to work one day out of four this week as a result.

Bob took me to the Melting Pot for a late Valentine's Day dinner on Sunday evening. It was nice, and we had a coupon. We're old people who use coupons to go out to dinner now. The cheese was amazingly good. I took this picture of Bob, which came out surprisingly well considering it was a cell phone picture in a very dark restaurant.



A friend said he looks like Marlon Brando at the end of Apocalypse Now. I said instead of "The Horror... The Horror..." it would be "The Gouda... The Gouda...." Bob loves it and says it's one of the best photos ever taken of him. I guess it just goes to show you. All the fussing I do with the digital SLR and I get a shot like this from my cell phone.

I finished the fruit slice shawl and I love it.


It's quite difficult to capture the whole thing in a photo when it's raining and sleeting outside so you'll just have to take my word that it's a big elongated semi-circle with a ruffle on the bottom. It drapes very nicely and is warm and soft.



As to how I made it, I started with a semi-circle shawl pattern, the Garden Pond shawl on Ravelry. I changed a few things to get the shape I wanted and to leave out the bigger lace mesh sections. I only did six rows of lace mesh each time, and I made the lace two rows sooner then four rows sooner on the last two lace sections. When I was as big as I wanted it, I KFB'd across the whole thing, did about six more rows in stockinette stitch to make a ruffle, then bound off on the wrong side using the purl two together, slip to left needle, purl two together etc. bindoff. I didn't block it hard, just soaked it, rinsed it, and hung it to dry from the middle. It didn't need much blocking.



I'm also working on a mystery shawl knitalong. It's a lot of fun, more than I expected. We're on the third clue. Each week, we get a new clue so we don't know what it's going to look like until it's done.



That's mine through the second clue. I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I have, but the designer, Tiziana, is brilliant and her pattern makes a lot of sense. I'm given to understand that isn't always the case in these things. And it's a win-win. We get a great pattern for free, and she gets a metric crapload of test knitters. Her other designs are gorgeous, too. And challenging. I like challenging.

I'm still working on this sweater.

I am on the sleeves now, but unfortunately, I bound off the bottom too soon, so I'm going to have to pick out the bindoff and add another repeat of the edging to make it long enough. It's not bad as is, but it could be better, and I want it better. I am just distracted by the shiny lace and spinning and etc lately. And by my general dithering and scatterbrain.

Still no word from my daughter. I honestly try to avoid thinking about it too much but it's very difficult. Being a parent is hard. Apparently, so is being one of my children. I miss them both so much.

Lily is adjusting to being an only dog. She's a lot less nervous, strangely, but it does make sense considering the dog pack mentality-we had a sick pack member, and it caused her some stress. Now that pack member is gone, so she's a lot more relaxed. She's also learning to be more assertive about being taken out to pee. It's a learning curve for all of us.



She does have the cutest little butt ever.

You better know what you're fighting for

Bob and I went to Phipps Conservatory yesterday for Valentine's day. It was nice. He's being very patient and understanding while I negotiate this endless emotional labyrinth and remain trapped, disconsolate.

I continue to knit and spin. I made socks for our friend Dave, who fixed my computer not too long ago. I'm making a sweater and two shawls and another pair of socks. I recently spun some lovely bluefaced leicester.


Here's a circular shawl I'm working on in handspun BFL/silk. This yarn was spun on my Turkish spindle, and I like the way it's knitting up better than I liked it in the skein.


One of the other projects I'm working on is a mystery knit-a-long. This is what it looks like through the first clue.



Really, in a lot of ways I feel like I'm on hold, like I'm going through the motions. Bob says I'm probably depressed, and he's probably right. This winter has not been kind. My knee is still not right, either. The doctor said it would heal slowly because of the prior damage to that leg and I was prepared for that, but it's been almost two months since my fall and I'm still seriously not even close to being able to go back to dance class. It's frustrating. And it's just ugly outside today, raining, snow melting, revealing a huge amount of dog poo in the yard. And the mailbox fell off the post, and I can't figure out how to get it to stay on. And on and on and on.

My thoughts are disconnected and I am blogging in the same way. I'm sorry to inflict this on my small but mighty readership. I will endeavor to do better in the future.

Here is the best photo from yesterday.



And here's Bob coming across the street-he had to go investigate a nearby statue.



It was a clear, crisp day out. Great weather for an outing to the tropics.

A ladder to the stars

Dylan's story starts before we ever knew him.

When my kids were small but old enough to take some responsibility, we got a puppy. This puppy was Max, the World's Most Amazing Corgi. Max was intelligent, mannerly, eager to please, playful, and sweet. He would smother you with kisses and fetch a ball or frisbee or stick a hundred times. He would go out in the morning to pee and come right back in when he was done. He became my heart dog, my constant companion, and the thing that kept me from losing my mind a few times, if truth be told.


Max at around six months old

Max was with us only seven years. He died far too young and left a huge void, and that was when Dylan came into the picture.


Dylan the day we brought him home.

Dylan was found roaming the streets in Eastlake, Ohio. He was of unknown origin, untrained, about eleven pounds overweight, non-affectionate, constantly ravenous, and quite ill-behaved. We had to search him down several times before we got on the learning curve that he needed to be taken out on a leash, not just let out to pee. He roamed the neighborhood and it's a wonder he didn't get run over before we figured it out, even though it only took us a couple of days to get with the program.

We could not leave anything out. No food. No cat food. No cat litter. He would eat it. Dylan once ate a five pound bag of science diet cat food that belonged to a pair of cats we were fostering. He got sick. Sick as a dog, proverbially, to the point I wondered if we were going to lose him from the diarrhea, but he recovered in time and did not learn his lesson. He ate a whole loaf of bread. Pizza out of people's plates placed inadvisedly on laps. Bob's coat. The couch, before we figured out he needed to be in a crate when nobody was home with him. My change purse, including some of the money that was in it. Bob's wallet. Several bras.

Dylan was not playful. We bought him toys over and over but he had no interest. He did enjoy going for walks and when we went to the dog park, he adored playing with other dogs, especially big black dogs for some reason.



With sufficient exercise and by controlling his access to food, we got Dylan down to a reasonable weight for a corgi, though he was still far bigger than most at 33-34 pounds. He always had a strange gait, and I often wondered about his breeding or background. There was never a way to find out, though. He was a beautiful dog, with a tremendous outer coat and absolutely beautiful corgi eyes.



He could melt you with a look, but I had corgi experience, my heart was hardened to him. Well, mostly.


Dylan copies an internet meme

When Bob moved in with us, Dylan adopted him. One night, we were laying in bed talking, and Dylan (who usually slept on the bed until we got wise and forbade it) crawled up between us and put his chin on Bob's chest, and gave me such a look, a look that seemed to say "thank you for getting me a man! I've always wanted one!"



Bob was devoted to Dylan. He cleaned up after his accidents, forgave him for eating his clothing and wallet and coat and food, and took him out for walks. He made excuses for him, brushed him, and had more patience with him than most people would. Dylan was absolutely loyal to Bob and loved him completely.

From 20070722194921

When we bought our house in 2004, we loved sitting under the apple tree out back. It quickly became one of Dylan's favorite places too, especially once he figured out he could eat the apples that fell to the ground.



Dr Bob, our vet, said they wouldn't hurt him as long as he didn't have any digestive upset from them, and if there's one thing this dog seldom had, it was digestive upset. Other than the cat food incident, he had an ironclad stomach.

Not long after we bought the house, we got a foster dog in, Miss Lily. Lily was a tiny corgi girl who had a hard life as a brood bitch in a puppy mill. Dylan fell in love with her, as did we, and they became great friends and close companions and playmates.



Needless to say, she did not remain a foster dog for long, and we have not tried the foster parent thing since, because we know how it will go!





About a year and a half ago, we noticed his strange gait getting worse. At times he would trip over his back feet. We took him to the vet, who did x-rays. They were negative, and further testing would most likely not shown anything treatable, as to the best of my knowledge, he was at least 11 years old. Operating on him would have been risky and probably non-productive, and we did not have thousands of dollars to spend on MRIs and CAT scans when it probably would not have told us anything we could do anything about. Our vet recommended rest and a course of steroids, in case it was something simple and possibly treatable. There was no result from that course. We took a planned vacation to Pigeon Forge TN to see my daughter who lives in that area, taking the dogs with us. It was testament to Bob's devotion that he carried Dylan up and down the stairs of our cabin, every time he had to go out, and there were a lot of stairs.



We got a wheelchair courtesy of CorgiAid's excellent loaner program. Dylan enjoyed it during the warmer weather, as it gave him a chance to exercise more and also get around the house to his apples again.



It was very much a short-term solution, though. We knew that all along.

The last couple of weeks, we had some snow and the weather has gotten very cold. Dylan had become increasingly incontinent, and was starting to fall over with some regularity, as well as having some mental confusion. He would bark, high pitched, over and over again, to go out, then do nothing when he was taken out. He would start barking for no reason and with no resolution that could be found. His eyes took on a glazed, checked-out look. We knew it was time.

He left us very peacefully and very calmly. We imagine he is free of his confusion and pain, and chasing some big black dogs in an apple orchard somewhere.



We'll miss you, buddy. Say Hi to Max for me, ok?

Tracks in the snow

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Originally uploaded by mensabuttercup

This has been a surreal winter so far. I would rather have the snow and chaos of last year than the pain of this one. Ideally, I'd rather have neither, of course.

Some things remain constant. I am loved by a wonderful man who makes my life so much easier. I have two fabulous daughters who I love more than anything. And I am never bored. Things could be worse.

Before, During, and After

Two + years ago when I came home from the rehab place, the bathroom started falling apart. Tiles were falling off around the tub. Bob tried to fix it, but due to the nature of the walls (plaster and lath) and the water damage, it was not possible. Preliminary research indicated this was going to cost more money than we could afford to spend any time soon. We put up plastic bags and duct tape and hoped for the best.

This year, my mom gave us a wonderful christmas gift. She paid for Bathfitters to come out and fix the tub/shower area.

Here's the before.



All the tiles were loose and it was impossible to clean them. Every time I tried wiping them down, more fell off. Not only was it disturbing, it was disgusting. Gross. Made showering a very unpleasant experience.



We knew something had to give when the tiles around the fixtures started to go but again, we still couldn't afford it.



You can see how all the surrounding tiles are loose. This is common, from what I'm told. Once one goes, they all start to go. The integrity is lost once the tiles loosen and it's only a matter of time.



Another thing I didn't know. Typically in houses this age, a shower was not a normal thing to have. Most showers were retrofitted. The tiling was not done with waterproofing in mind, beyond what a tub bath would need. So when they are used for showering, it's inevitable that you'll start losing the tiles because the wall behind is not waterproof and the steam works a slow, steady damage to the plaster.

So Rich from Bathfitters showed up on Wednesday morning, bright and early. He worked diligently through the day. We were told this would be a two day job because of the wall repairs that were needed. No problem. I took one day, Bob took the second day. The dogs supervised Rich very carefully.



After day one, we had this.





Bob tells me the dogs supervised Rich just as diligently the following day. When I came home on Thursday, we had a "new" tub and shower.





It's a huge relief. I took my first shower in it last night, and it was amazing. So nice to actually relax instead of being grossed out and ashamed and worried about doing further damage. Everything is neat, clean, and caulked tight. I may have to invest in some bubble bath now.

Thanks to my wonderful mother for this gift, and to Bathfitter Pittsburgh for the terrific job. Rich was neat, punctual, polite, and considerate. He also cleaned up after himself amazingly well. There was zero debris or mess left behind. If you use them, be sure to tell them I sent you.