Do Not Get in Eyes

Livin' on the Edge. That's my Sweetie and me. We applied for our passport cards today at the County Clerk's Office. We were both over-prepared and nervous. I had to hit the rescuer enhaler.

I don't know why we were I was nervous, except that any official paperwork - the kind that has to be just so, last name first and all that - just freaks me out anymore. The clerk I dealt with knew me from when she worked at my bank. She lives within a mile of my house. Sweetie had his own clerk. (She didn't know him but was nice anyway.) Upshot? Nothing scary happened, and so if we do get to Canada in October, with these cards, the US will let us back in. Imagine!

Limited Liability

The back, she be healed!

Yippee and Wahoo! (Cue James Brown - I Feeel Goooood! Na na na na na na nah)

The two slips and falls that I took still seem like the instigators of my injury, yet in hindsight, the "new" knitting chair is also suspect. The "old" and beloved knitting chair, the new one's fraternal twin, had bunny pee on it (imagine that) and the new slipcover didn't fit and so, it was sent to live in the back room. However, I quickly discovered that the "new" chair did not fit my body well and my coccyx soon began the slow ache. Being the cheap bitch person that I am, I was sloooooow to acknowledge that free may not always be good.



These two chairs have a story that I shall now bore you with. About four years ago, when I still had the store, I took an(other) unfortunate fall in the bunny barn one evening. I went forehead first into the corner of a 10"x10" post. Hard. I stood up and immediately understood that 1) this was gonna hurt and b) this was gonna leave a mark. Exit barn, stage left.

Halfway to the house, the blood began leaking through my fingers. What to do? What to do? Go to the hospital? Nah. Maybe. Okay, and how? I could drive, I thought. But I don't want to get blood all over the upholstery. What to do? Ask a neighbor? Betty? Who is 78 years old? In the end, I walked the few feet to the general store and asked the cashier what I should do. "Let me see it," said Peg, "911 it is."

Maybe I could drive? "Nuh uh. You're gonna need stitches. I'm calling 911."

Long story short. After dealing with our local, lively and mostly inept first responders (I mean, how hard is it to take a person's blood pressure?), I got to ride in the bambulance to the emergency room. Peg was nice enough to also call my friend, Nurse Kelly, who met me there. Dr. Precious (a whole 'nuther story) gave me 9 metal staples and a 30 day supply of antirobotics. (30 days!!!???) (For a copiously bleeding head wound?)

Honestly, I thought that the whole thing was much ado about nothing because I felt pretty good. (Showing Sweetie the staples that night; yet another story.)

Of course I went to the store the next day and the rest of the week. (If not me, then who?) The first day, I mostly sat with my head on a table. Later, I took to sleeping on the floor in the back. Then Kelly arrived with two rose colored, velvet upholstered chairs. They rocked and swiveled too! She said that when she saw me that first day, sitting on a metal folding chair with my head on a table - and miserable - she knew that she had to get me some more comfortable chairs. She found them through a classified in the local paper placed by an elderly couple. The Chairs were in excellent condition and so joined The Couch to form the knitting area in my store.

That's where these chairs come from. They are both special to me in several ways. However, one of them needs to be set along the street with a great big FREE sign on it.

I am now using what I will call the Vaguely Mediterranean occasional chair. Having a high back and firm seat are its good qualities. It was also a gift chair. No rocking, no swiveling, but my back feels great! And I can knit in comfort again!

Here is the current afghan for sweetie, and Gospel Organ, in said chair. Remember the Happy Organ guy?