Here it is, Post 300. Long in the making because, well, these benchmark numbers put one under such pressure to perform! Until, finally, it occurs to me it hasn’t been three days since the last post, it’s closer to three weeks and by the time I write the next post there won’t be anyone there to read it anyway.
Emergencies
I have had my share of little panics over the past three days three weeks. Remember that extra little Christmas we had when I found the presents I’d hidden? One of them was a Scout knife, fresh from the factory and twice as sharp. The very next day, said Scout forgetting that putting it on top of his dresser wasn’t exactly removing temptation from his four-year-old brother, we had ourselves a small crisis. I’d tell you all the details, really I would — they were hilarious! — but until some sort of statute of limitations runs out, I’m afraid I’ll have to plead the Fifth lest someone from Children’s Services is reading this and decides I need some time in solitary to reconsider my parenting skills. (Short version: I did not know the knife was on the dresser until we were on our way to the doctor’s office for some skin glue. The reasonable explanations I heard for there being blood everywhere were all lies.) But we did meet a lovely new pediatrician.
That was a Wednesday. The following Monday I went upstairs to wake the same four-year-old boy for school, and was met with a zombie. I carried his limp body down to the couch, where he lay all day, eyes glazed, fever burning, unslaked by orange juice. The doctor’s office had no open time slots, so he didn’t get there until Wednesday, when it was discovered he had an ear infection and a teensy bit of, well, pneumonia.
It’s interesting to tell people that your child has a touch of, well, pneumonia. They look at you as if you’re about to breathe some pneumonia on them as well, while the thought bubble above their head wonders do people still get pneumonia any more?
Some of them do, and I hope they’re almost done with it. Because for a whole week, TV sucked, medicine tasted nasty, I was the most horrible mommy on the earth and deserved to DIE, and school became the Emerald City. But we did meet another nice pediatrician.
Meanwhile, I was adding “I am SO going to Knit Night” to the end of every e-mail I was writing last week. The events of the night were undiminished by the fact that one of my brake lines blew out as I was leaving the Beltline on the way to Verona, and were of course completely out on the hourlong drive back. I could tell they were handling differently — I just didn’t know why. But I brought me home safe. We dropped off the van on Monday, and maybe it will be fixed tomorrow morning. And we did get to reacquaint ourselves with the guys who fix my car.
So.
I finished a Secret Knitting Project I can now call the Old School/New School Scarf. Check it out in 2009 Finished Projects. It’s a tube scarf, with colored stripes transitioning from Marquette Warrior to Marquette Golden Eagles. It’s hideously warm and was completed two days before it absolutely had to be.
I finished my January sock for the Personal Sock Club — check it out in Finished Projects as well. I finished this sock yesterday, so technically it’s a January/February sock, and I don’t care to speculate as to when the second one will be finished. I might cast on for it tonight, just so that doesn’t get delayed any further.
Who’s left? The only other active project I have is a Season 16 Doctor Who Scarf. I’m coming to terms with my other projects not really being Works In Progress, but Hibernating Items I’d Rather Not Think About For A Few More Months. But I really would like to get them all wiped out by the end of 2009.
Thanks for reading my 300th post!
P.S. I did some spinning the other night — yes, Wookie roving. I have a spinning retreat coming up in less than a month and thought I’d blow through the open bag of Wookie wool, have fun plying it, and have all the bobbins free for the retreat.
