Grouchy Mom

"Inconceivable!" *

            I'm about to tell you all something that is so bizarre, so incredible, that some of you (Hi Julie!) may think I'm fibbing.  Really, I'm a wee bit shocked myself.  Are you ready?  Okay, here it comes....I'm knitting.  Not only knitting, but I am finishing something.  Better yet, I am finishing the second sock of a pair I started - oh golly - two years ago?  It's true!

         Once I got the worst of the unpacking taken care of, I began to look for something to keep myself busy during the long, sunny days I now must endure.  (snort)  Can't really set up my torch in a rental house, I don't think the landlord would be too crazy about me playing with explosive gases on his property.  I could do some beadwork, but for some reason the mojo just isn't there.  Knitting, though, sounded good. 

        Soooooo I started rooting through my "stash" looking for something to knit.   My stash doesn't amount to much compared to some I've seen, but it's enough to keep me occupied for a bit if I can come up with the right project for the yarn I have.    I was digging through my sock yarns and found one completed sock and the bare beginnings of its mate at the bottom of the bag.  Struck by a sudden fit of knitterly righteousness, I pulled the sock and bit-o-sock out and declared,  "I shall finish this sock!"   And the angels sang, hallelujah, the end. 

        Okay, so actually it was more like "I can't find anything else that rings my bell right now, and at least if I finish this sock I can feel all virtuous  and not-guilty about starting something else."  But still, it worked.   When I rescued it from its yarny exile, the second sock was really only about an inch of ribbing.  Now I'm at the heel and actually making pretty good time, considering how slowly I knit.   I was just hoping to finish them before the niece they were intended for gets married next summer, so I'm pleased. 

        Not that it has anything to do with me finishing a sock, but so far I'm not seeing much in the way of yarn shops here in South Carolina.   It is  possible that I've driven by 72 of them already and just didn't notice, but surely at least one of the 72 would have caught my attention, don't you think?   I'm wondering if perhaps there are fewer yarn shops down here because of the warmer climate.   It could be that there is just not as much demand for wool socks and sweaters down here, although after seeing some of the locals wandering about in parkas when the temperature was 50 degrees,  that theory seems a bit weak.  At any rate, I have yet to locate a yarn shop within a reasonable distance, so if anyone out there has information I've missed, please share! 

        And now that I have shocked the masses, I'll keep knitting socks for lasses.  ("Stop that rhyming, now!  I mean it!"  "Anybody want a peanut?")  Can you name that movie?

 

 

 

 

 

*Why, it's "The Princess Bride", of course!   If you haven't seen this one, drop everything, run to the local video store and grab a copy.  Classic! 

An unhappy realization

            The last three weeks haven't involved a whole lot of deep thought.  Most of my waking hours have been taken up with things like finding all the pots and pans, letting the landlord know that the drains aren't working, going in circles with the SC license branch - you know, important stuff.     One little detail did catch my attention, though.

            When I went to the ER a couple weeks ago, my blood pressure was a little high.  Okay, it was a LOT high.  As in scare-the-doodlesoup-out-of-me high.    Normally my blood pressure is on the low side - in fact, there have been times when it's been so low the nurse taking it freaked out a little - so this was really unexpected, and very frightening.   The ER doctor told me it was probably just from all the cold meds and not to worry, but to keep an eye on things. 

            Well!  One interesting fact that I may not have shared about myself previously is that I can be a bit of a hypochondriac.  Most of the time it's under control, but every now and then my imagination gets carried away, and then things can get ugly.  The first couple days after my ER visit I was still too busy trying to breathe to think a whole lot about blood pressure, but as I began to feel better, my mind fastened onto those numbers like a dog onto a bone.  I worried and fussed and fumed.   I made promises to start exercising and quit eating so much and lose some weight, doggone it!  

             Today I  bought a home blood-pressure cuff  (we monitor Jon's blood pressure anyway, because of his history of irregular heartbeat issues) and checked myself.  Surprise, surprise - right back down in the normal range.  I guess the doctor actually knew what he was talking about.   All my fussing and worrying and dieting wasn't necessary after all!

            Then I leaned over to get something off the kitchen counter and turned on the stove by bumping it with my belly.  

             I guess yogurt is going to be my new best friend after all.