You gotta love wireless keyboards and iPads. Especially when Hubster is sprawled on the couch in front of your computer and you finally feel like blogging, And to reach the height of laziness and being spoiled, the case I have the iPad in has a built- in easel on the back so it stands at the proper angle for things like typing, playing games, reading mail, etc. You just gotta love shit like that. So with this smaller than normal keyboard perched on my knee and my ciggies in front of me, let's see what kind of garbage I can spew to bore you to tears with.
First of all, Hubster's mother died. She went peacefully with his sister at her side. He went through some mind-fucks trying to decide whether or not to go to the memorial service but, in the end, he decided to stay at home. His father has been less than communicative throughout this entire thing, and I don't think he felt welcome there (even though he didn't come out and say that). And here I even promised that I wouldn't start any fights! In my family, it isn't a wedding or funeral without some sort of altercation, but his family is a bit more sedate. How boring. Anyway, he did call, but we didn't send flowers. Apparently, donations to the Lung Association were asked for in lieu of flowers. His sister has called a few times (once just because she was freaked out about something and didn't have her mother to talk to anymore), but his father has resumed his customary silence. What a dick.
Hubster talked to our landlord yesterday and gave notice that we were going to be moving at the end of the month. Kevin (landlord) asked that we stay until April 15th, which is how our lease is written, and we have no problem with that (especially since we procrastinate so much and will most likely need the time for packing, cleaning, etc.). We both will be so glad to move back home, especially after what happened yesterday.
For you West Coasters, you know the big storm we just had? You guys in the Bay Area and the LA Basin got rain (with a bit of snow); up here above the smog line, we got snow. A LOT of snow. Suffice it to say that when Hubster went in the front yard to dig out the truck, the snow came up to his chest. But that wasn't the bad part. Nor was coming home from our little trip to a 45 degree house. Nope.
The bad news was the telephone pole laying across our driveway/bridge which had JUST missed hitting our truck and which took out the railings on either side of the drive.
Not only is it impossible for Hubster to dig out the pole (it weighs a ton and is covered with snow and ice), but it would have to be cut up with a chainsaw and removed chunk by chunk. Besides, it belongs to Verizon. So he sat on hold for about 45 minutes this morning trying to get some help. Finally, he was connected with the people who handle things like this, and they have assured us that the pole will be removed by 5 p.m. today. That did us no good yesterday (ciggies and food were running low). Poor Hubster had to strap on the backpack and hike to town to do some shopping. With our luck, the damn pole will be removed right at 5 p.m. At least we don't have to remove it ourselves. We didn't even shovel the snow ourselves - some guy happened along with a Bobcat and offered to remove it for a price. Any price was worth it to Hubster. Our driveway slopes down quite a bit, so the snow tends to pool at the entrance. When the plows come through, they create a huge berm which completely blocks us in. If you don't shovel it right away, it turns into a giant ice ball. I don't blame him for letting the guy shovel with the Bobcat. Other than that incident, the snow is absolutely gorgeous. The trees were dripping with the stuff, and for the past few days, it's been pouring water off the roof as the snow begins to melt. That doesn't mean it's all gone. The decks are completely covered up past the bottom rungs of the railings, and the ground has about four feet of what was powder. It's too bad that both of us have such big lard asses; we would love to go sledding in our yard (instead of sitting on the disks and sinking). I wanted to build a snowman and have a snowball fight, but I know my body couldn't handle the stress.
Speaking of my body going crazy, we went up to the Bay Area for Stitches. Hubster's company paid for the trip because he was in the office meeting with people while I was out having fun and catching up with old friends. I had studied the vendor locations and mapped out which vendors I wanted to visit first, so upon arriving and buying my ticket (I would have bought it at home online, but we need a new printer cartridge), I headed for the Sanguine Gryphon's booth. I wanted to get some Bugga, and I knew the booth would probably be crowded. Heh. Crowded was putting it lightly.
While the Skinny Bugga wall was full (as well as all the other yarn types), they had already sold out of many colors of Bugga. I did manage to find two colors I couldn't live without (and which were sold out while I stood there clutching my skeins), and also bought a couple of sock patterns (and a pattern for bloomers; they'll be ideal for sleeping and lounging around the house in). There are only two types of non-indie yarn I use (meaning yarns made by more than a couple of people) - Bugga and Dream in Color (preferably the Smooshy with Cashmere). I heard that the exhibitors went apeshit on the booth the night before, so who knows what colors were no longer there. In any event, I was happy with my purchases.
The other booth I wanted to hit before I began to look around was Anna's Yarn Shoppe. She's my friend from Elk Grove and my Sacramento days whom I got into a fight with (I can't even remember what the fight was about). Anyway, I was warmly received, and our fight is at an end. I'm hoping to get up there some day soon so we can sit and talk. She's doing very well, and I couldn't be more proud. In fact, she's looking for a larger retail space, which in this economy is no small feat. The other yarn shop in Elk Grove has some rather unfriendly people working there (apologies to those of you who like the place), so I'm really not all that surprised she's doing so well. Her shop has always been warm and friendly. If you're ever in the Sacramento area and want to go to a wonderful shop, she's currently on Laguna Blvd. in a small strip mall. Look her up in that shop guide which comes out every year.
After visiting with Anna, I found the booth Rabbitch was in (Tactile Studio out of Richmond and one row over from where I was standing). I talked for a few minutes and then began to make my way around the show. It was crowded, but I was able to get around with my walker. I looked at a LOT of gorgeous yarn, patterns, notions, gadgets, etc., and went past my allotted spending limit. No matter - I had a ball. I had a two-day ticket, planning on splitting the show in half so I didn't get too tired, but I failed miserably at that. By the time I hit the final booth of the day (where I bought this ultra-cool light that hangs around your neck and has a telescoping lens with three settings which directs the beam of light right on your work), I could barely move. I shuffled over to Rabbitch's booth, where I plopped down and was fawned over by the absolutely lovely ladies of Tactile. (If you're reading this, Maia, I'll be back in a month and will get in touch.) Rabbitch was also her usual lovely self, and I spent the rest of the day visiting with them.
As I said, I had planned on going back the next day to finish seeing the show (and probably blowing more money I don't have), but I hurt so badly that all I could do was sit in the recliner in the room all day. In fact, I had tried to lay down in bed (bad idea; it's been a very long time since I've been able to lay down), and it just hurt me worse, so Hubster dragged the sheets and blankets off the bed and put them on the recliner. I was quite comfortable and knitted/dozed all day and night. I was also able to have lunch with Rabbitch on Monday before we both departed for our respective home bases. It was so nice to see her and the other people I only get to see once a year. At least next year, the show will be in my backyard and easy to get to.
I saw my doctor for the final time and got my meeds filled so I have enough until I find another pain doctor. I asked him for a prognosis, and it isn't good. He told me if I don't go back into remission, I have six months to a year max. I told Hubster that I have one to two years, but he's in denial about the whole thing. Why am I writing this if I don't want him to know? Mainly because he doesn't read my blog (I think he's afraid of what he'll find), and because it won't make any difference even if he does. I can feel the disease in my abdomen now, as well as my back. It's slowly encircling me, and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. So why am I still buying yarn when I can't even get rid of what I have? It's a compulsion - you guys know that - and I find it comforting. Speaking of selling yarn, I know I owe some of you packages. Never fear - they will get there (I promise before you get arthritis in your fingers and can't knit any more).
On the knitting front, I've got a few pairs of socks on the needles, a baby blanket for the gal who makes my lime ices every day, and a bunch of swatches I'm knitting for the Unique Sheep. I'm about done with those (I'm sure they'll be delighted to get them). What's taken me so long is that I've tried to find a different pattern for each yarn (they sent one of each type of yarn they make, and, some of the patterns are a bit on the complex side), and some are crocheted. I wanted them to have a good variety of styles for their customers to see. As soon as I finish the lace samples I'm working on, they'll be washed, blocked, and on their way.
I know there's a lot more crap I could babble about, but my shoulders are hurting from hunching over the keyboard and it's time to watch my TiVo'ed People's Court while I knit. Best to work on the laces when Hubster is asleep; otherwise, I tend to lose count.
Let's hope I blog before another month goes by, although with us moving ...
Ah, it doesn't matter; the iPad and keyboard will be taken with us, not stuck in the giant pod for storage until we find a place to live. Keep your fingers crossed that something yummy comes along for us to rent (preferably a rent option; this will, after all, be my last home).