telling it like it is

a number of things have been on my mind and this blog is figuring into all of them. 

At some point last week, I phoned my lifelong best friend to see how things were going.  We usually talk a few times a week, but time had gotten away from us and I hadn’t spoken to her for a bit.  It turns out things were not good with her.  She hadn’t called me because she had been reading the blog, thought things were so wonderful that she didn’t want to bring me down.

The festival was fantastic.  More fun than I can describe.  But things are not wonderful. Vicki and Cara were privy to the unfolding of this little drama and Vicki just sent me an email asking what was going on.  As I was replying to her email, I thought about the reasons I have this blog and why I should/shouldn’t put all of this on here.  There really is no reason not to just put it all out there —- I just don’t want to feel harassed in the comments.

anyway, my mind is about to burst with all of this, plus I need to go and live a life so I will just copy the email I sent back to Vicki.

of course, it all has to do with dogs.

so, the dog situation……

I have been in a complete turmoil since I got home on Sunday night.  As you know, Boar had called me at the festival to say he thought we needed to put Mo to sleep.  Mo is the shih tzu, he has been throwing up since the beginning of the summer.  When I took him to the vet in May,  they did blood tests, saw that his liver enzyme levels were out of whack and wanted to do ultrasound and other tests to figure out what the problem with his liver is.

My feeling was and is that at a certain point in a dog’s life (mo is 10, not old, but also not young), there is little sense in pursuing these things.  Whatever was/is the matter with his liver was nothing I would be willing to finance.  As you know, the liver is a major organ and is largely unfixable without loads of medical interference and surgeries.  I am willing to get things fixed, I am not going to buy time.

So I decided to keep Mo comfortable and see him through to his end.  When John called, he said that Mo had thrown up blood.

On top of this unfolding story is the story of the dog fight, which resulted in Poe having his eye hurt.

So on Monday, I spent the day trying to work up the nerve to call the vet and make an appointment for Mo.  The thing was, he didn’t seem to be in any pain and hadn’t thrown up.  In fact, he was eating like a horse.  Between crying jags, I decided to wait until Wednesday.  putting the emotional turmoil on hold.

On Wednesday, Boar took Poe for a re-check and I asked him to also talk to the vet about Mo and his lack of pain symptoms and what we should look for.  I have bowed out of the vet process since I am hardly able to keep it together.

you need to know that we go to a practice of vets and Poe was being seen by a different Dr. than Mo.

So, the news on Poe is on the edge of being horrible.  He has no vision in the eye.  The Dr.  is a bit stumped, since the optic nerve and retina look fine and healthy.  He is figuring that there is pressure behind the eye that is causing the problem.  He has prescribed a steriod to reduce any swelling, but Poe can’t start it until Saturday since it has an averse reaction to another medication he was on.

On the other hand, the news on Mo is guardedly good.  Keeping in mind that this vet didn’t actually see Mo – he took a look at the charts and said that this could be as simple as an ulcer.  Sent John home with some anti biotic for Mo.  Mo continues to eat like a horse and is keeping it all down.  Yesterday  he had three pork chops, sans bone.

I on the other hand, am sick to my own freakin stomach over all of this. 

Here the puppy is possibly going to lose the eye (Boar and vet are hopeful, I am feeling very bleak) and little Mo has been in such bad shape for so long when it could be something so easily fixable.  argh!

to top it all off, D#2 just discovered that she lost an heirloom earring —– a little diamond heart earring that my Mother in law had made for her using diamonds from my deceased father in law’s band.  We have both been through her room/laundry/everywhere looking for it.

I have been crying off and on for this whole week.  Which is incredibly unlike me.  I don’t know what has come over me.  I am your friend that you hardly ever see cry.  The analytical one.  The logical one.  The one you think you should put in charge of your will, the part about no heroic measures because I never fall to pieces.

I am a fucking mess.

spotted in Rhinebeck

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Nuns That Rock!

Nuns buying yarn.

Bright, lime green sock yarn.

makes you wonder what else is happening under all that yardage….

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spinners being born

and lest you think it was a sea of sheep…..

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rabbits & reindeer??

Freedom of Speech

Let’s get right to it, shall we?

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The first is a Brooks Farm 50/50 wool/silk four ply.  I would like to make a sweater for myself – a basic pattern that lets the yarn do the talking.  All ideas are welcomed.

Secondly and another Brooks Farm find is Harmony, a hand dyed  wool/silk/mohair blend.  I have in mind an oversized shawl/wrap with the potential for heavy fringe.  Again, any ideas?

And lastly a Socks that Rock extravaganza.  I bought these at The Fold.

If you have cruised around Blogland you may have heard about a certain someOne who, when she was not asking wheel makers if she could feel their wood, was very busy trying to start a stampede.  And they say I’m a trouble maker?? 

This One darted amongst the crowd shouting out to any and all THEY ARE GOING TO RUN OUT OF SOCKS THAT ROCK.  GO RIGHT NOW. DUDE.  SERIOUSLY.   (my use of the word dude should indicate to you the veracity of what I am saying)  I am sure that the town of Rhinebeck will have some ordinance on the books in no time to prevent this kind of public mayhem. 

I was not immune to the rising tide of panic.  I bought enough sock yarn for a family of octopi.

Tomorrow, pictures of purchased doo-dads and what-nots.