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Knitting at Walter Reed Hospital.

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Yesterday, Miss Biddy decided to come into the house and investigate the kitchen. She cracks me up. Nobody here but us chickens.



I also dyed some superwash yarn, because now that I finished that pinkish pair, my fingers are restless. This is from Kraemer Yarns, and was spun in Nazareth, PA.



I used Hot Fuchsia, Black, and Gun Metal Jacquard dyes to get this yummy colorway.




And these 34 batts are going to The Spinning Bunny.

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Alright, Helena, here are the socks, along with The Handsome Shawl, in progress. I used the common heel, which does not involve turning, but rather kitchenering, because it is more durable. Heels are where I wear my socks out first, every single time. The shawl is maybe 2/3s done.



Princess loves surveying her domain from my knitting chair, when I am not in it.



This is Steve, fuzzy in more ways than one. I don't clip him because 1) I probably couldn't catch him, ii) He appears to shed as needed, and C) it protects him from Smoky attacks.




A study in Feathers and Leaves.

Registered Certificate

K sent me an email berating me for leaving you all in the lurch about my well being. Sorry, K!

Two weeks sober today, and feeling much better, thank you very much. Not depressed. The down side is that, like many writers, alcohol was my Muse, the lubricant that allowed my fingers to fly across the keyboard, and without it, I feel rather dull and uninspired. Hence, no posts.

I want to thank every single person who has sent me good wishes, especially Judy in Atlanta, who witnessed my first sobriety 21 years ago and assured me that I could do it again.

I have been knitting, and finished the rose colored socks last night. They are just plain vanilla, not photo worthy. And this morning, I picked up the Handsome Shawl from Victorian Knits Today that I haven't touched in weeks.

I have also been getting up at 4freakingthirty every morning, in order to get Sweetie off to the Glorious Job. Because we have plenty of eggs, he gets french toast every morning and sometimes fried egg sandwiches for lunch. Sometimes I go back to sleep for an hour or two, and sometimes I stay up.

With Sweetie gone, I am able to clean the house and it stays clean for more than ten minutes. I even oiled the living room furniture! All the little piles of stuff have been being sorted and reallocated to either its proper place or the trash.

I baked bread!

I have also been reading lots of stuff online. I don't know if every computer can do this, but my iMac  can be set to read text in a variety of voices. This is great for catching up on blogs, email, and also web sites. It allows me to listen and knit simultaneously, which is why those socks got finished.

I found a fascinating site that deals with the flip side of AA, the cult aspect of it, and have read (listened to) dozen of pages there. I am not powerless, and I do not believe in a personal god, and so, AA is problematic for me at the very least. I am the Problem Child in the AA chat room, but I am rather enjoying being a bit of a rabble rouser, which is so unlike me! What that means, I am not sure, except that maybe I feel secure in my beliefs.

I have lost some bunnies in the last month, which is sad making. Louise was Fuzzarelly's last remaining baby, and at five and a half years, she was at the age that many angoras die. Louise was a bitch, never my favorite, but it was still sad - and end of an era, in a way. I still have Fuzzarelly's brother, FuzzyBob, though. Another angora bunny just up and died, and two of the little babies died, too. I still have Tootsie and Jack (named for Jack White, of the White Stripes,) and they are fat little fellas.

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I am here and doing well. Really!

I have been busy this past week taking care of myself and not drinking. Without the alcohol to rinse the anti-depressant out of my system, it appears to be doing its job much better. Sober and happy, that's me.

Good news, too. Sweetie had a phone hearing with the the judge and his previous (evil) employer Wednesday, and we both were on tenterhooks awaiting the outcome. He received a letter Friday saying that the denial decision was reversed, and that his benefits were reinstated back to May 2!

The Evil Company does have 18 days to appeal that verdict, as would have Sweetie, if he had still been denied, so we are not out of the woods yet. But the mood around here is hopeful, and when/if he does get those benefits, it will all come in one lump sum.

(By the way, the Evil Company is a subsidiary of Snyder's of Hanover, so, don't eat their pretzels. As a favor to me.)

In other news of this past week, Crazy Neighbor the Instigator and his friend painted our barn roof with aluminum paint. Long story short, Evil Neighbor's friends got some spray over specks of paint on their piece-of-shit vehicles because they were too stupid to move them even when alerted. One called the sheriff to file a report about the "damage" to his vehicle, after he ascertained that I had homeowner's insurance, and he filed a claim.

Here is his paint damaged van.



I spoke to the adjustor yesterday, and their claim will be denied. She told me, as an aside, that if it had been either of us, we would have just said, "Oh, well," and gone on about our business. Bad luck, bone headed move, whatever.

The roof looks great, though!

Objects in mirror...

Millie helps with the baby bunnies.

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Thank you, everybody. I am depressed, there is no getting around that, but some of you will know that my real demon is drinking.

Yesterday, I drank every beer in the house, all three cans, by ten a.m. then had a shot of brandy. I didn't even feel buzzed. Then I alternately solved sudoku puzzles and slept the rest of the day.

I'm slowly killing myself with alcohol. It is causing a few health issues that I am too afraid of even saying aloud or writing down.

The universe gave me a dope slap up side my head this past week, and I have been struggling against the truth of it.

I don't want to stop drinking because it makes me feel normal and I can't get through the day without it. Drinking deadens the pain in my life.

I can't keep drinking because, um... because, it makes me stupid and fat and depressed. And it's killing me. I'm beginning to not want to die. Fuck.

I really don't want to start going to meetings again. I struggle. I isolate.

It was about this bad when I first went to AA. It was Easter Sunday, and as I drove up to the noon meeting at the Dogwood Club, I saw several grizzled and haggard creatures lounging outside. I almost kept on driving, but didn't.

There were maybe 15 people inside, and they held a special first step meeting just for me, and I didn't take another drink for 16 years after that day. Goddamn it, I don't want to have to go through all of that again.

But I have to stop drinking. I have to stop killing myself. I have to stop acting in a reckless and criminal manner.

Please, you all, send me your love. I'm gonna need it.