HAVEN'T YOU?

Haven't we all, at one time or another, air-conducted, air-guitared, air-drummed She's so Heavy in our living room? Or at least wanted to? Is this not a sign of mental health? Remember the first time you heard Abbey Road? Extra points if you were on your back between the speakers.

Outside, fall is creeping. Gray and drizzly. Dishes are in the sink, mostly washed. The Beatles sent my mind spinning back back back. Vacuuming has been done. The rain falls. Purple angora is on the stove. I try to not run away in panic. Or joy.

I can always turn to the internets for some sanity. Thank you, The Knitting Curmudgeon

OUR LIFE GOES ON

Thanks for the comments and emails. I am missing Bonnie in a thousand little ways. And I have been missing her in a thousand little ways for several months. She was a great red wasp alert. She loved to run. She was so incredibly smart. She hated guns, gun shots and fireworks. She absolutely loved me and Sweetie without being gushy. She was my best girl.

In actuality, she's been gone for quite awhile.

I have been reflecting on what the Buddha calls the spark of life. Spark! You are conceived. Spark! You are dead. If you can find it, read the The Zen of Physics. I got a lot out of the book but right now I am unable to articulate, as usual. It did suit my Buddhist world view, however.

In other news, I am back on eBay as Fuzzarelly selling my fibers. I am sending in an application to Maryland to be a vendor and have already sent the app to Greencastle. I am looking forward to the Wool Fest in Falmouth, KY (first weekend of Oct.) and the Fall Fiber Fest and Market in Corydon, IN (third Saturday of Oct.)

Habitat for Humanity completed the purchase of Camp Swampy last week; a piece of property we once owned across the street. It will be so cool to have a new house built in Lovely LA.

I have begun another shawl, now that the blue socks are complete. (Lynne was the recipient of that pair.) (When someone bewails the fact that they cannot knit two socks that match, and they are such good people, what am I to do?) This new shawl will be knit from Fuzzarelly Fibers using a variety of blends. The pink mohair shawl will be a part of the Shawl Exchange at Shakertown in Kentucky this December, the annual retreat of the Friendship Spinners. The first shawl I knit, the one with the earth tones - will it be mine? Maybe. Maybe not.

I sure miss the hippies. I think the world could do with fewer business degrees folks and more hippies.

I Still Have Nightmares About Love and Peace

Blonde: I hate hippies.
Brunette: Me too! My mom said in the '60s, hippies were worse than homeless people!
Blonde: I used to be afraid of hippies as a kid. My mom used to threaten that I would get kidnapped by hippies if I was bad.

--Grand Central

Overheard by: matt

via Overheard in New York, Sep 12, 2006

BONNIE IS SLEEPING

Took her for her final vet visit this morning. I have lots of pictures, but with no scanner, I a limited to what is digitally on file. çlick for bigger.

Sweetie took the day off from work and I don't think I will work, either.

Good night, sweetheart. You are Mommie's little girl and you always will be. We love you.

MURGIE HEARS A HOO-HOO

Helena Handbasket sent an email, "I am totally transfixed by Murgatroyd's ears!  How do you ever get anything done?  I think I'd just sit around and giggle and play with those darling amazing "little" ears."

My answer is that I don't get anything done! I am a layabout that merely thinks about doing things, and then plays with Murgie all day.

Well, I did surf the web and found a couple of interesting Earls.
 
http://www.dangliebits.com/hoohoo.html/

http://www.quaylemuseum.org/

ME AND MY MEDZ

Pampered Proboscis wrote via email "I admire your candid sharing [about your allergies and depression].  Sure, I believe getting crap out of one's self is good for one's self but it takes guts to go public in the human weakness department."

Thanks for the note, PP. I guess I sometimes feel very free communicating this way, by blog. I try to be honest in what I write, since I am a terrible liar. Writing helps me to focus and to actually think about what I am feeling at the moment.

The medz (Effexor) have helped me tremendously over the last four years. I still get depressed but I am not disabled by it. Also, the allergies really really exacerbate these bluest of blues. So when the allergies are in check, I mostly feel fine. I also don't have that ambient and near constant anxiety that was so much a part of who I was that I didn't even realize how much damage it was doing to my health.

I have no interest in being a zombie. I still want to feel my emotions. What I don't want is for them to control and harm me.

To end on an up note, we have -

Top 10 Party Games for People Over 50

1 Sag! You're It!
2 Pin the Toupee on the Bald Guy
3 20 Questions Shouted in Your Good Ear
4 Kick the Bucket
5 Red Rover, Red Rover, the Nurse Says Bend Over
6 Doc, Doc, Goose
7 Simon Says Something Incoherent
8 Musical Recliners
9 Spin the Bottle of Mylanta
10 Hide and Go Pee!

Here's one I like - Hide and Go Leave

the Honey Do List

There is a reason that I persist in my childish behavior - it works. More often than not. My little fit of masochistic passive aggression did the trick and Sweetie got all sorts of chores done around the house on his three-day weekend. I am so glad. Of course, Crazy Neighbor, Josh the Hyperactive helped with the motivation. "C'mon, let's fix that barn door! Help me with this and then we'll take another load to the burn pile. And later......" That was the routine for the better part of two days.

My friend Nancy commented to me that I haven't written about Bonnie lately. The news isn't good. The lameness in her hind quarters has gotten so bad that she falls sometimes on our walks and it's difficult or impossible for her to get up on the couch. She's just a shadow of her former self. I knew that Sweetie and I would have to take that dreadful trip to the vet soon but Sweetie was reluctant. "Maybe we can get her some more shots; that helped last time." And I would reply that that would only prolong the inevitable and we were going to have to put her down THIS WEEK. She's not getting better and she won't get better. Ever. Now, it is a week later and Sweetie has finally come to grips. We purchased a memorial at the Concrete Lady on Friday - it's an almost life-sized statue of a sleeping dog all curled up and restful looking. It looks like her. The site was selected and dirt has been excavated. We'll take her to the vet Wednesday or Thursday for her final sleep.