focusing

I don't know what has gotten into me. Really. I actually worked on my other website today, editing content, adding photos and all that. I even investigated shopping carts and PayPal, until I remembered that I have an Etsy account already. Doh! I'll work more on it tomorrow since I will need to take photos of my fibers and then be prepared to spend serious time online, since I have dial-up. (High speed is still a pipe dream for this very rural, but developing county.)

I buried the little guy yesterday. He went peacefully. I am reminded of the scene from Lawrence of Arabia in which Lawrence has to execute a fellow whose life he had just saved. Essentially, the guy was meant to die; his number was up. (And by the way, wasn't Peter O'Toole absolutely gorgeous then?) NancyNeverSwept, rest assured that Anna won't be bred again. Of course, I didn't intend for her to be bred this time, but I reckon the girl just had to have it. And Stubby was quite studly. Valerie, thank you for all your comments. I do what I can for all my bunnies, big and little, angora and other. Sometimes my heart does break and sometimes I wonder why I do all this. But I love my bunnies, I like taking care of them, and they are wonderful creatures. Plus, I am trying to earn a little money off their fuzzy little backs. (See above.)



This is an old picture of Fuzzarelly, but as far as I am concerned, it speaks volumes.

I have been feeling good lately. Sweetie and I have laid off the booze for a couple of weeks now and I am convinced that I shouldn't pick it up ever again. On the other hand, I could also merrily drink myself to death, given any opportunity. Especially in the dark of winter. But it's high summer now and I feel fine.

The Good and Bad

After lunch yesterday, I hit a wall so I crawled into bed and was out almost immediately. Three hours later, I awoke - not knowing where I was or even what time or day it was. (I hate that disoriented feeling!) I remembered dreaming about road blocks or obstacles of some sort, but these things only slowed my companion(s) and me down - we continued our journey. Anxiety dream or warning? Either way, the dream seemed to say that shit will happen but all will be okay.

I haven't mentioned the yard babies in some time. Remember the little white lion head? That one has a sibling, a brown non-lion head that I have dubbed Bobo. They are Bambi's kits. Bobo developed some sort of wound on his left eye two weeks ago which at first I thought was just a bunny fight bite. It got worse over time but I was never able to get close enough to really see it. Neither Bambi nor her kits let me get close.

Then there is Ramsey, the girl who was slated to be python food. Ramsey is sweet and tame - she will let me scratch her head most days.




She had Stubby's babies underneath the apartment building next door. The first I knew of it was seeing four little guys (two black, one white and one brown) frisking on the concrete stoop over there. Of course, I put out pellets and water for them all.

A little over a week ago, I saw a white object on the hill by the apartments and sure enough, it was the white baby, still alive but hurting. He had developed wry neck and although I knew it was hopeless, I brought him home and made him comfortable. He's still with us but is not improving. Shortly after that, I was seeing only one black fella along with the brown one. I don't know what happened to the second black guy.

So, there were four baby bunnies on the loose and one of them, Bobo, needed attention. I set the live trap out back, baited with pellets - no dice. They weren't falling for it.

And then, I was able to capture the Apartment Brown. I was putting out pellets for them one morning and Brown came right up near me and began to nibble. Snatch! and into protective custody he went. He is just like his mom in temperament - sweet, calm and gentle. He had two bot fly larvae on his back, but otherwise seemed fine.



So. Yesterday. After I woke up from my sudden slumber and had gathered my wit, I went outside because it was so pleasant. (We had a cold front blow through Thursday night and the sky was clear and the temps were below normal for July, in the low 80s with a nice breeze.) I piddled around, checking on the critters. Ramsey and Lion Head were posturing, not exactly playing. I tried to get close but they always moved just out of reach. Then Ramsey sat on top of the Lion Head, completely covering him and I made my move. Snatch! and into protective custody he went.



A little later, I took some pellets up to the apartments and saw that the black one had ventured farther away than normal from its hidey hole. I approached him from the front. He didn't just bolt like he's done in the past, but he still wasn't letting me get too near. I gently chased him for about five minutes until he fell for the "Look at the left hand while the right hand grabs you" ploy. Snatch! and a squeal and into protective custody he went.



Only one left.

Sweetie quietly pointed out Bobo to me; he was by the back door with his mother. I thought, "Well, let's go for it." I tried to stay on his blind side but he was wary and I honestly didn't think I had a chance. He finally ran behind the day lilies by the house and under the redneck insulation where he was trapped. Snatch! and into the examination room he went. Instead of a huge festering wound with an infected eyeball that I expected, I found a ginormous bot fly larva just to the rear of his eye. The hole it left could have held a marble! Once the wound was cleansed, I could see that his eye was fine, really. There was no other injury - it had been the bot fly larva all along.



Can I say this? I feel pretty damn proud of myself! I captured, bare-handed, three bunnies in just over an hour. Four altogether. I was particularly happy to have the Lion Head in a cage because she is so unusual and being albino, she would not have lasted too terribly long in the wild. In addition to her "mane," she has long tufts of fur on her haunches and her hips. (Those look like saddle bags.) I'm also glad to have Bobo fixed up.

So. That's all good news. Now the bad. Anna Nicole's little baby is dying, in the same manner as her previous litter. Remember my feeling, my hunch? He has been less active. His fur isn't right somehow. This morning, I found him cool and still, huddled in a ball. He is too weak and uncoordinated to move. His eyes are dark.

The damn shawl...

...is done, blocked and everything.




Finished size is 52" x 20", enough to cover the shoulders and upper arms. The border turned out moderately well; I'd grade my effort a C+. If I were to knit this pattern again, I would be sure to have enough yarn to make it longer, at least 60". Also, on the border, I would have slipped the first stitch on each outside edge. Lastly, there are too many border repeats on the short ends, so I would reduce that number. (It only makes sense as there are fewer stitches vertically than horizontially.) Live and learn.

I had never made a shawl like this before, rectangular with a knitted on border. I rather like three sided ones, round and square ones made from the center out. These all can make good use of color changes. The first type, not so much. I have spun a half ounce already of hot pink Fuzzarelly Fiber, merino/angora/silk. Not to beat my own horn, but this stuff is so easy to spin and to spin fine, at that.

Socks are what I will make next, though. I need to make something small and I'll use Trekking XXL in a pretty self striping pink and grey. I plan to use a tubular cast on this time, as I found this tutorial online. Looks easy enough.

Today, I had my first real guitar lesson. I practiced diligently during the winter and early spring and then...I lost focus. Also, my calluses. The teacher has experience in all genres of music and likes to teach each student what that student wants to learn. Me, I'm of the garage band/front porch type, so I have my three chords in 3/4 time to work on for next week.

I am guarded as to the prospects of the baby. Nothing I can put my finger on - just a feeling. He's eating and all that. Mother's milk is drying up so I am supplementing with goat milk. I also let him out of his plastic tub for a constitutional after meals. Buster, as usual, is on duty.

More Bunny Stuff. Plus, Odd Bits

The baby's eyes are open and he's scootin' around.



Kola was suggested for the unnamed January bunny. I like it, but it made me think of Koko, which was dog that my x and I used to have. But then I thought of KoKola and I loved that! If you are from the south, you understand.

I am still clipping bunnies; guess there might be five left to do. Let me tell you - I'm exhausted. It's been all bunnies, all the time lately.


c
How people treat you is their karma. How you react is yours.

Which reminds me of my late friend Jeff: He died as he lived -- in his sleep.

Alcohol Was Involved (From News of the Weird)
Andres Vasquez, 20, of Verona, Ky., initially told the 911 operator in May that someone had "thrown" his truck on top of him, but he finally admitted he was drunk, had had a one-vehicle accident, was trapped upside-down and was in dire pain, fading in and out for over two hours to the dispatcher. The operators pleaded the entire time for Vasquez to just say where he was so that they could send a rescue party, but, as the Kentucky Enquirer put it, "When repeatedly asked his location, (Vasquez's) answer was always the same: 'I'm under the (expletive) truck.'" (He finally gave a clue and was rescued.) [Kentucky Enquirer, 5-18-07]

Update

Knitting on the melon shawl continues. Don't know if I have made a complete mess of the border, but I'm not ripping out or stopping except to spin more yarn. The next thing I knit will be hot pink or purple - anything but drab.



The baby is still in his plastic bowl on the kitchen table.



I get mommy out twice a day and let him latch on to feed. He's a spaz; very active and jumpy even with eyes still closed. I won't name him until he's at least 3 months old. (I really try not to get attached to these problem children - they can be heart breakers.) Of the January bunnies, I'm ashamed to say, one is still nameless. There's Sheila, Candy, Salt, Pepper, Bud, Spike, Bongo, and Icky Thump. So that only leaves one black one. Any ideas? And I have yet to name the two surviving March babies.

Heizen wants to say "Hi!"

BROWN

The most interesting thing, to me, about knitting is that there is always something new to learn. I am learning how to knit on an edging - knitting it onto the center panel of current shawl. Even after reading through the instructions several times, it still turned into blind following for the first few rows until I got my brain and hands around the technique. I am still intrigued by the construction of lace, so this shawl - dull brown though it be - is still interesting. So far.

What is it with the brown lately? Almost all my shoes are black. Most of my purses for the last 20 years have been black. I bought a new pair of sandals and they are brown. Since Heizen nibbled my old black purse until change was falling out of the bottom, I also bought a new purse. Brown strap and trim with a cloth body. And this latest shawl is brown. After the late seventies, I vowed never to wear brown and/or rust ever again. And here I am spinning brown yarn and wearing brown shoes.

The runtling lives still.

Yoshimi. Also, breathing.

Yoshimi posted on the blog saying it would be neat to spin some of my bunny fiber from Yoshimi. Yes, I do sell my bunny wool, but I won't have any of hers available until next shearing, which won't be until the end of August.

Regular, right-off-the-bunny angora prices are $4/oz. for prime, $3/oz. for short, and $2/oz. for combings. Each bunny gives a variety of grades at every clipping, rather like a sheep. If you are interested, Yoshimi, email me at fuzzarelly at epowerc dot net.

One of the nice things about living in a rural county is that when I called the doctor's office Friday at 8:45 to make an appointment, saying that my asthma was acting up, the receptionist asked if I could be there at 9:30.

The word Asthma apparently set their game plan, because first the aide and then her boss bustled around me. My lungs were listened to and questions were rapidly shot at me. Then the nurse practitioner updated my history and she listened to my lungs, looked in my ears and down my throat. She spoke about getting me a nebulizer. Finally, my doctor arrived and listened to me breathe and looked down my throat, pressed my sinuses, and asked me what was up.

Long story short. The doc doesn't so much think that I have asthma, but rather asthma-like symptoms that are set off by allergies and anxiety. She put me back on the Aunty-depressant but at a lower dose. She prescribed a nasal spray for the allergies and gave me two samples. She said my lungs sounded fine, not like lungs with asthma. Remember, I have been off the Aunty-depressant for about a month and the asthma-like symptoms have worsened for that month. Here it is, a few days later, and I am feeling okay and breathing fine. Haven't used the inhaler since Friday.

I find it fascinating how one's body can manifest the effects of allergies and stress/anxiety. Like hyper-ventilating and difficulty breathing. Like eczema on my hands.(!) Both of those are recent. Stomach upset is an old and familiar indicator. When I was younger, it was a feeling of almost losing control of my mind and body. Or that feeling of dread that occurs as one chugs up that first big hill of the roller coaster, waiting for the bottom to drop out from under me. So much for the grand plan of getting off all my medz. Anyway. Maybe now I can get back to having a life.