Just When You Think You're Getting Ahead ...

... you get blindsided by a bucket of shit falling right in your lap.

It all started this morning when I got up and found Hubster sitting on the couch, staring at his computer and not doing much of anything. The TV was off; the room was absolutely silent. Emma had run him out of bed last night, so he came to sleep on the couch so he could get some rest. It turns out that he was sick, and it just got worse as the day progressed.

I should have known something was coming. He didn't finish taking all the pictures for the update, so I had expected him to do it today. Not a chance. He couldn't even get off the couch, so I put Emma next to him; they were both sound asleep in a matter of minutes. Then I began feeling crappy myself and sat down in my chair to try and do some bookwork. No go. I couldn't get motivated to do much of anything, not even knit. I did knit last night while he was taking pictures, but today was set aside to finish the update. All I finished were a few naps.

Needless to say, nothing is getting posted. As I stated before, if I try to do anything when I'm tired (or sick), I make mistakes. So what I've decided to do is have the update on Thursday. We're resting tonight and tomorrow, then we'll finish up the loose ends on Wednesday. I hate to do this to the vendors who have waited so patiently, but when it's me doing all the bookwork and computer listing and him doing all the photography and coding, all it takes is a blip in your carefully planned life and schedule to fuck everything up.

I'm trying to find some dyers who are willing to dye up some special yarns so we may have a sock yarn club. If any of you are dyers and wish to participate, please email me. I'd like to do a theme of some kind; I'm certainly open to suggestions.

Emma has a huge red spot and bump on her head. First, she was playing with her blankie and wool toy when she went toppling over the edge of her bed, whacking her head on the lever for the recliner. Then I went into the bathroom and shut the door all the way. The next thing I knew, there was a huge BANG! and the door shuddered. After that, there was scratching at the door, but I couldn't open it. She had spotted me going in there and charged the door, trying to get in before I shut it. I feel terrible. Right now, she's in her crate snoring away. I'll take her out in a little while when I go lay down. She's claimed Hubster's side of the bed for herself, which is why he got run out of bed last night. She seems to have figured out that licking his ear drives him nuts and causes him to sit up straight in bed, giving her a chance to scoot into the warm spot where he was laying. Anybody who says bullies aren't intelligent obviously haven't interacted with one.

On the bright side of things, that weird dude hasn't shown up again. Thanks for all your comments and ideas about why he was there; I simply don't know what he was doing. I've been keeping my eyes open for intruders, but everything has been quiet on the western front.

Tomorrow is my grandma's 90th birthday, so I'll be making her a tray of lasagna and a cake. As to when I'll be taking it over, I don't know (it will probably be next week before I can make them). If Hubster is up to it, we might drive Emma over there to visit. Mom is waiting for the results of some tests she took. Some of them were from her gyno; she not only got her cooter rooted, she's facing surgery for a prolapsed uterus (which she blames me for - I guess I tipped it or something when I was in it). She also has a cataract in one of her eyes which needs to be removed, and she has to have some more testing done for various things. Sigh. More family shit I don't need, and I can't be over there to take care of both her and my grandma. I don't have the strength, and I also can't leave Hubster alone with Emma all day. That little sausage is a bundle of energy who demands constant attention. She also needs constant supervision as she's developed a taste for electric cords, my expensive dining room set (which is now not worth the money it would take to haul it out of the house, Ethan Allen or not), our slippers, the drapes, my feet, my underwear, any clothes you happen to take off and drop on the floor, and anything else she can fit in that enormous maw of hers. It's all worth it, though. She's so damned cute and comical that I can't imagine life without her.

Now I have to go make Hubster some broth, find something for dinner for myself, and then sit down for the rest of the evening. I think this will be one of the rare times I go to bed early.

Mark your calendars. This won't happen again any time soon.

I have decreed it to be so.