It’s all here. Adventures in extreme knitting, the house of poop, and suburban permaculture. You may also find rants about politics, ecology, humanitarianism, responsible living, toe floss, and other topics not covered here. Expect profanity and irreverence. You have been warned.
Thank you for still being my friend. It’s been bloody hard, and I can’t always show you how much you mean to me, and I recognise that there isn’t much fun involved right now.
I just read this, by a woman who lost friends after her baby was stillborn, and I recognise how lucky I am that you are still there for me.
I mourn those that are not, but I rejoice in you more.
Inigo has a cavity in his right back lower molar. We took him to a specialist dentist last week, and found out that the enamel on that tooth never formed properly during my pregnancy, so that is why it has rotted. He isn’t in pain, but left untreated it will get worse and cause infections, eventually damaging the tooth underneath (his adult tooth). So we have to do something about it. The specialist quoted us $1800 for the dental work, plus $1200 for a day stay in hospital, plus $600 for the anaesthetist. THe better part of $4,000.
So today we went to my normal dentist for a second opinion. I had my teeth cleaned, while Inigo watched patiently. Then she had a quick look at his teeth while he watched tele in the roof. Then, she did a quick x-ray to determine how bad the decay was.
And then she told me she could treat it in the chair, without a general anaesthetic!!!
Which she then did, all while Inigo watched ABC for Kids. There are serious advantages to rationing TV watching!
All the treatment for both of us cost less than $200, including x-rays. So we went out for sushi and bought some gorgeous wooden blocks, and still felt thrifty.
…and most of what I am wearing is clean, is that impressive enough?
After a scare last week, and a mammogram this week, it would appear that I don’t have breast cancer. There is some comfort in knowing that I have already lived through the worst thing I am ever likely to experience, but I am grateful not to have to deal with that particular pile of steaming crap.
But a friend of a friend is. She has two babies, one a little younger than the Squish, and one less than a year old. SHe thought she had a blocked duct, but it’s an aggressive cancer, and she is currently undergoing chemotherapy. Apparently, there is a 90% chance that she will still be alive in five years time.
So after dealing with a metric buttload of misery myself in the past few weeks, I am taking up my knitting in earnest. I am going to knit two chemo caps for two people who need something warm and beautiful on their heads, and I am going to go easy on myself for just a little while, and take the time to knit some love and healing.
Last week, a package came from America. A stunning shawl, knit with love from a dear friend who couldn’t be here to hug me. I wish I had a picture to do it justice, but Cecelia, your shawl has become my lucky shawl. I wore it when I went to have my mammogram done on Tuesday.
Thank you to a dear friend who was there on the other end of the phone when I needed her. Thanks FSM for friends who think it’s ok to sob into the phone, and people who don’t call the police to investigate the crazy lady sobbing into her phone in a car outside their house. And those people who walked past thinking I was dabbing my leaking eyes with a tampon, thank you for not calling the mental health team. It was a Pure Wipe. They are quite absorbent, but do look a lot like tampons when you are sobbing in a car in a quiet suburban street.
Thank you to my parents who want to make it all better for me, but make do with taking the Squish so I can have a day off from pretending to be OK for him.
And the girl in the booze shop who didn’t ask any questions when I bought two bottles of sparkling red and a litre of gin, and then asked for a straw.
There is human kindness everywhere.
(and yes, I am “OK”. No more or less OK than I was yesterday, but today I need to cry).
I have a leave pass next Saturday – Mark has offered to take the Squish away so I can play with yarn. Anyone want to sharpen up their crochet skills with me?
Lien asks, “Like a real workshop, or just a get together? I think I may be able to make it for a few hours!”.
Well, if we can get Andrea to come (and/or somebody else who can crochet and read patterns), then it will be like a real workshop, but if not then we can just muddle through by ourselves 🙂
Sarah – does a 9am start work for you? I have to go up to Pearl Beach afterwards, so we’ll finish around 3pm, but if you have to leave earlier, that is fine.
OMG! Two crochet posts in one day. The world is coming to an end…
I helped the Inner City Knitters Guild people run some learn to knit workshops in libraries in the west this morning, and at one of the libraries, a whole pile of squares had been donated. One of the squares had a really interesting construction, and now I am on the hunt for a pattern, or instructions, as I can’t quite get my head around how it was done, and I’d really like to have a crack at it.
Any ideas?
Can anyone teach me how to do this? My crochet guru is no longer speaking to me, so I need to cast a new net 🙂
Am prepared to pay in food and wine/gin.
I wonder what sort of uniform the nerd superhero wears?
There is still a few glitches (can’t leave blog comments), but I have my calendar back, and I have all my blog feeds! Normality is resuming, and I adore my husband. Not just for his good looks!
And tonight is results night. Pizza and red wine are on the menu, my friend Dionne is coming from Newcastle with her kids, and we are going to cover the kitchen in flour and dough while we wait for those crucial text messages. Dionne was in my environmental peace unit, so we are supporting each other.
And tomorrow I am teaching small children to knit. Give me strength!
And here is a picture of a small boy playing an orange ukelele.
Please stop messing with my head. I have been trying to stay relatively stable for a while now, but deleting all of my data from my accounts (or just hiding it from me and giving me incomprehensible instructions for “fixing” it) is depleting my will to exist.
All I want is to look at my (insert expletive) calendar, and know where the (insert expletive) I am supposed to be for the rest of the week, and when I am supposed to be there. I’d also like some certainty around next week too. And I am pretty sure Squishy has a dentists appointment at the end of the month. Actually, is it too much to ask if I can have all of my data back? Please?
The only way I have been able to function since I got out of hospital and started to be able to look after myself again was to stay scheduled up to the eyeballs. Take my schedule away, and I am just a quivering mass.
Disco Knitter 