Birding and Going Undercover

It's been a fairly quiet week. It's still cold and crappy out. I cut my hair. I made soup. Lenore comes home from the hospital this weekend (4 treatments down, 2 to go!). Work's been...work. A couple blogworthy (relative term!) moments did occur though. Last weekend Roland, Amy, Lenore and I participated in a group version of the Great Backyard Bird Count, which was fun and got us out into the woods. Here we are not finding any birds to count, but our guide was able to identify several just by the sound. We also saw a fox. And a lot of deer, which is usual for this site (and unfortunate for the deer, who are very overpopulated there).




The other blogworthy moment was my silly cat, who has discovered a way to make cozy little tunnels. I had originally covered up the hand-knitted afghan on the back of the couch so she wouldn't snag it or get it all full of cat hair. She did not take kindly to my efforts and proceeded to flip aside any annoying covers to her comfy spot. The other day I discovered her thusly. I guess she wins.




My co worker said the caption should be, "Until you turn up the damn heat, I'm going under cover!"

Here's the Hoops cave, from which she neatly extricated herself, perhaps so she could use it next time with much less effort.



I have some bread making footage that might get turned into a very exciting little movie, but so far, there's been no time to devote to it. Something to look forward to, no?

I sent the following little story to a few of you. We had fun with it at lunch, so I thought it too might be blogworthy. Hey, you can always skip it. (You email sneak preview people can wander away now, I won't be offended.)

I had posted my status as "thinking about snails" on facebook (yes, I joined facebook...I still think it's stupid, and yet I am now totally ADDICTED). A few people emailed me to ask why snails. The reason was that my friend, Scott, sent me a bunch of cute pictures of animal moms, and for some reason, I really liked the snail picture. I just think snails are cool. Also my favorite joke ever (and pretty much the only joke I can remember) is about a snail. I am not kidding.



So I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday. I never saw a baby snail (or, as Tom pointed out, a juvenile gastropod) before -- complete with a little shell and everything. How cute is that?!

I wonder if the mom helps pick out the shell. ("You are NOT going out dressed like that!") and so then that got me to thinking about being a snail mom. As far as responsibiltiy goes, how hard could it be? It's not like the little snail could run away from home...it's on his back. And your kid would be like, "Mom, I'm going over there..." (an inch away) and you would be all, "No, you stay right here, I don't have all day to wait for you, and dinner is in 4 hours!" Plus you would always have the slime trail to follow, worst case... kind of messy on the furniture maybe though. "Alright, who just slimed the sofa again!?" (I guess it's all very Far Side!) "Hey, wipe your foot!" Actually, in this photo, it looks like Mom’s been hitting the bottle...

Souper Bowl

Among the many things Zita tackled while visiting/nursing Lenore was making Borscht. Lyla made some when she was here, and we were hooked. This is not your run of the mill pink broth, mind you, rather it's a very hearty soup that just happens to have beets in it, along with carrots, potatoes, stew meat, and cabbage. It's fabulous. So, anyway, Zita and I shopped for the ingredients and then she spent all day chopping, peeling, dicing and prepping. We had it with freshly baked bread one very cold evening. It was a meal that needed documenting.

Also in need of documenting was the biggest peep in the world.



Here's another Perky Potholder sighting at the eye doctor's office. Sarah is infinitely patient with us high-maintenance patients who are always needing glasses adjustments due to unfortunately turtleneck incidents, spontaneous napping, and, in my case, a clumsy girlfriend who is forever crashing into, bumping, jostling, or elbowing me in the head. Don't get me started on the kicking. I think I need to invest in some bubble wrap.

Feigning Interest

I realize some readers have no interest in potholders. But really, that's why I started this blog, to document my potholders before they went to new homes. And it's not like you have to put up with advertising or anything, so, ya know, now and then you'll have to just pretend you're interested. See, even Hoops does. Or maybe it's just she has to exercise her uncanny ability to ruin photographs.

I for one was very excited about this new breed of potholder, made from this ribbon-like stretchy yarn. I'm definitely going to have to see if the knitting store has more and other colors.




Here's a small sampler of some new loop colors that I just got. The blue, lime green and berry colors were particularly exciting.



These are kind of Valentiney, no?



OK, as you were. Thank you for visiting, please come again.

New Loops

I've been enjoying a new supply of potholder loops, but neglecting to document the results. Jeeze. Here's my co-worker, Hua, with her new blue and white potholder for Chinese New Year. Yes, it should have probably been red, but Hua is BIG into blue. One day she complimented me on a sweater that was not blue thusly:
"I like this sweater. I don't like the color, but I like sweater!"
She's very subtle, that Hua. She said she would have liked the potholder better if it was all blue, no white. Coming from her, it's OK. She's been making Lenore all kinds of rice and noodle dishes and buying her fruit, which is very sweet of her.


These were mom's Xmas potholders, but I didn't take the photo 'til her birthday last week. She also got the yellow and white one below for her birthday. I don't think she's into the double digits on potholders yet, but it's probably getting close. But as my mom, she's obligated to love them, much like the drawings I brought home every day in first grade.

I gave the green and white one to my boss because that's her office accent color, and also I see no harm in sucking up.




More to follow... (it's so exciting, isn't it?!)
You can disagree. Hoops did.

Dearly Departed?

This was just a small adventure I had on Monday morning.

I was having weird chest pain all weekend off and on, but not something that made me think I was having a heart attack, more like a stitch in my upper left chest. It was sharp, but also kind of radiated a little, and felt kind of hot. I thought maybe I did something lifting weights, but of course, being the dedicated hypochondriac that I am, I googled various varieties of chest pain/chest wall pain/blood clot etc. and managed to concern myself suitably that it could have been a blood clot. Or maybe a heretofore undiscovered strain of tubercular virus. So, after a bad bout Sunday night while loading the dishwasher, I told myself that if I didn't feel better in the a.m., I'd stop at the immediate care place on the way to work and see if there was something they could do or test me for, maybe make sure it wasn't a giant tumor with tentacles poised to spring from my chest.

So, fast forward to the morning, pain still there, so I stopped. This was my compromise, because I REALLY didn't want to go to the ER ($500 co pay if they don’t admit you, plus the sitting and waiting all day with bleeding street people), nor did I want to take a ½ day or more off to try and get in to see my doctor and sit in the damn waiting room w/a bunch of sick people. I figured that early in the a.m., I’d get right in and hopefully have my mind set at ease.

Boy was I wrong!

I did get right in, but apparently "chest pain" = "possible law suit if this broad keels over" in their eyes, because the next thing I knew, I had an IV in me, a nitro patch, oxygen, and I was on an ambulance on my way to the ER (and no siren!). The Dr., who was Russian or Polish or something with a Natasha and Boris-type accent was all, "I vant to make sure is nothing serious vis heart, and I can't do here, so we sending you to ER. Hang on."

At first I was thinking, "OK, this is silly," but then I wondered if maybe she knew more than she was letting on. My worry, however, was well masked by the nitro, which caused my blood pressure to drop about 20 points during the ambulance ride. Did I mention there was NO SIREN?!

So, long story short, nothing appeared amiss on the chest x-ray or in my blood, so they sent me home with the chest pain still there and the addition of a nice headache from the nitroglycerin. Thank you very much. I'm not complaining, I felt the care was very good and thorough. And I'm glad it was nothing, because I just don't have time or energy for anything serious right now. I suppose it's better to feel stupid than it is to be vindicated in these situations.

The dot on the i of this whole story, though, is that when mom came to pick me up, they told her I had "departed." My mom was like, "EXCUSE me?!" "Yes, she departed about 5 minutes ago." Fortunately, I came around the corner about then. I was lost, but not departed, dearly or otherwise.

The son of a lady who works at the college was the ambulance attendant, so now I feel she and I have a special bond because her son saw my boob. Possibly more than once. I'm supposed to follow up w/my doctor next week and maybe have a stress test. They have to test me to see if I’m under stress? I think I can answer that w/out the electrodes.

Now I’m wondering if I’m still gonna get soaked for the $500, plus the ambulance ride. Ya just can't win.