Friday, August 04, 2006

Igor here.

Once again I have a kink in my neck. I can't turn my head to the right. I had the hiccups earlier and they almost killed me. I would be worried, because really I get sore necks like this all the time. But since I know what they are from, I figure there is no point in getting the doctor all worked up over it. See, Ruby shares my pillow. "Share" in the figurative sense, since she pretty much takes up the whole thing and I try to rest my head on the empty part of the pillowcase in the corners. In an effort to get an inch of pillow to myself, I now use TWO pillows, set edge to edge. This pretty effectively doubles the surface area and should increase my chances of getting an inch of softness to lay my pretty little head. SHOULD increase my chances, yet does not. Funny how it happens that way. Ruby still takes pretty much the whole thing. Instead of lying sideways, she lies longways - nose pointing towards me. Thank goodness for small favours LOL. Not that dog breath is ever a good thing, but when faced with the back end of a pug, dog breath seems like a smaller price to pay. I spend my night contorting into all sorts of positions to try and get comfortable while avoiding squishing doggy body parts. To make matters worse, Jasmine (the older, bigger cat) likes to lie at the bottom of the bed, where my feet are supposed to go. She is big. She takes up about as much room as Ruby and her two pillows. So I am reduced to trying to fit my frame in the middle third of the bed. This is where Xena (the younger, smaller, and crazier cat) comes in. She likes to lie ON me. Stretched along my side, actually. But she is skittish. Taking a deep breath or a good loud snore from DH or Ruby is enough to set her running, using me as a runway/launchpad/springboard in the process. Note to self - her back claws need trimming....ouch! When it comes to bed space, I am willing to defend it to the death against a human counterpart. I have been known to take DH's arm and fling it away if I find it on my pillow. I am not averse to giving him a good kick if his leg encroaches on my few inches of coveted bed area. If he is getting too close I will wake him up from a sound sleep and tell him to MOVE OVER. And yet, when it comes to sleeping animals I am powerless against their charms. I just can't disturb their warm, squishy, soft, fuzzy slumber. It's a fault. I can't make them get out of my chair, either. Sucker, that is what I am. So I am off to microwave a rice pad and spend a few minutes tending to my wounded areas in the hopes of loosening up in time for the week-end.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Keep your Karma to yourself

My daughter and I got wet today. Not a little damp. Not a little moist. Wet as in soaked to the underwear. We were halfway to the door of her daycamp when the heavens opened and poured warm rain on us like a tipped bucket. And because it was WARM rain she shrieked and laughed and trotted, but did not run - which seemed like a good idea at the time. By the time we got inside, we were a dripping, shivering mess. The sun was shining when we left the house, although we could see clouds in the distance. As we got closer to her camp, the clouds got darker and darker. I was actually hoping for rain soon, it has been so hot here and everything is wilty. I can water all I want, rain makes the plants look green and perky instantly which can NOT be reproduced with a hose. We were making our way to the door, when a child walking ahead of us said to his mother "I think it is going to rain". At which point she replied "Of course it won't rain. The weatherman said it was going to be partly cloudy today, but no rain". Barely time to take a breath after that sentance and we were drenched. Apparently this woman was not aware that one NEVER makes statements like that. For the weather gods live for nothing more than to disprove weather men. And if they can drench several children and their mothers almost to the door of daycamp, so much the better. Soaking them to the underwear in two minutes is just gravy after that. I managed to fenagle a towel to dry her off from a sympathetic swimmer who was won over by her large eyes and the splint on her arm I am sure. There is nothing sadder looking than a little girl with a splint and sling on her arm, especially when her hair is dripping wet, she is shivering, and giving you those big eyes. Another minute and I think I could have gotten her some dry clothes ;). The counsellors assured me she would be fine, as they had decided once her whole group was there they would take a trip to the womens change room and stand under the hand dryers. And judging by the look of the little drowned rats in her group, we weren't the only ones to get caught in the rain, so the dryers were a very good idea. DD was squared away and soon to be warm and dry, but I still had to get back to the car and it was pouring rain. Waiting for it to slow down wasn't being very fruitful, so I stuck my arm out the door to feel how bad it was. At that point the rain and air outside was warmer than where I was standing and shivering so I took a run for it. Or a 'hobble-for-it' but we won't discuss that. Again, this sounded like a good idea, until I made it to the car an even drippier and shivery-er mess. My wet jeans had sort of stretched out and I was stepping on the ends (which is hilarious since normally they are about a centemeter from being 'floods'). My tank top was completely see-through (wish I had worn my fancier bra). My hair was stringy and dripping into my face. My shoes were so wet they squished (so were my undies, for that matter). Just when I was starting to dry out a bit during the drive home, I had to sprint from the car to the house and get wet all over again. Today was not a good time to realize that my 'car' umbrella had been left in the house the last time we used it. So now I am changed into dry clothes with a towel on my head, drinking a steaming mug of coffee and listening to the blessed rain. DD called to say she is warm and dry and baking cookies at the daycamp (I am glad they let her call, I was worried about her being cold and almost didn't let her stay). The grass is greening, the trees are sighing in relief, and I do believe I can hear the zuchinni and summer squash growing. If I listen carefully I just might hear the cherry tomatoes pop as they swell from the downpour. Or that might just be the rain dripping from my hair onto the keyboard ;).

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I hope that is not a sock

You know that your child - no matter how ill or injured - is starting to feel better when she starts to complain. Not cry or whine about pain, or whimper when things hurt. I mean the kind of complaining that makes your eyes twitch and drills into your forehead like a rabid woodpecker. Yeah, that kind LOL. Judging by the innadequacy of my cooking, the lack of selection in her wardrobe, dearth of good toys and games to play with, and her constant demands and exclamations of "I'M BORED", she is mending very very well ROFL. The sling is causing a rub on her shoulder, and it is very tender. The strap itself is soft, but because of the heat and humidity even regular clothes chafe. I have tried chaffing cream, powder, and placing a bandage between the strap and her skin but nothing helps. I did some researching and thought maybe a tube of very soft material around the strap might help. The first one I cut from orange polar fleece and carefully sewed with special seams to avoid any lumps. Of course, I was insane to think she would even consider it, because even though orange was her favourite colour YESTERDAY today it is loathsome. The second was white and made with felt, but she rejected it outright as the felt was 'scratchy'. The third one was taken from my knitting bag. It started out as a test swatch made with the softest, silkiest yarn in lovely sea shades. It was not orange, it was not scratchy. However, it is too "fuzzy". Now, this was all yesterday and I had to come up with something by this morning before she left for daycamp. I had no fabric that was soft, no yarn that was soft enough, not so much as a baby washcloth that might work. Then I remembered! For christmas I had gotten a pair of very soft but unfuzzy socks made out of some strange material that was halfway between a faux suede and polar fleece. They were stretchy, and tube socks so with a little snip, off comes the toe and I have a premade tube! No sewing, no seams, just soft stretchy material. And they are bright orange in sight. Yep, this is the ticket. Snip snip. I arranged the tube over the strap of the sling and set up her large teddy bear so that he could wear it and my wonderful offering would be the first thing she would see upon opening her eyes. Yes, she would start the day knowing in her heart that her mother loves her SO much that she spent the night pondering and finally coming up with the perfect solution. I waited patiently, she started to stir. She opened her eyes. I could see them focus on her bear, and could practically hear the wheels in her mind turning as she processed what she saw. She rubbed her eyes with her good hand, then sat up straight. "I hope that is not a sock. NO WAY am I wearing a sock on my sling". Sigh. Back to the drawing board.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Has she melted away? Been kidnapped?

No, I am right here. Just took a break, that is all. Whew, if it gets any hotter or more humid outside I may have to stand inside a steaming hot shower to cool off. When we open the door, the hot mugginess hits us in the face like a club. The only one that isn't trying to avoid going outside at all costs is Ruby. She cannot take the heat at ALL but for some reason keeps wanting to go outside. When I force her to come in because she is practically in convulsions from panting so hard, she sits at the window and looks wistfully at the steaming yard. The dog is strange, y'all. We have air conditioning. Good air conditioning. But you get so overheated just walking from the car to the house (oh, let's say ten feet maybe) that it takes a good hour to stop feeling steam-peeled. Not roasted, because roasting is a DRY heat. My father is doing well. As in up and around, at home well. I am amazed at how quickly it all happened! In Canada, he would still be puffy and disoriented and just maybe sitting up now. And we would have to fast forward about a year and a half, because no way would he have had surgery by now. I am truly convinced that waiting long enough for most of your patients to pass away is being done as a cost saving measure. It takes so long for surgeries and treatments these days. I sit and stare at how much money is cut off my paycheck in taxes, then think about all the programs that have been cut in medicine and education, and frankly, I want to know where my money is fricken going. The roads are falling apart, the library is open 16 hours a week, waiting lists for life saving surgeries measure in the years. The waiting list for some cancer treatments is longer than the prognosis many times. If you can live long enough to take the treatment, you might have a chance then I guess. At least in the states you have the option to sell your house and pay for the treatment you need. Here, you don't have to sell your belongings but then again you have to hope to outlive the waiting list. You don't have to pay for that heart surgery, but you might not live long enough to get your turn. Frustrating. DD's arm is doing well. She is adjusting to the splint just fine. We are such wonderful parents that we watched her try and feed herself a piece of hot dog, and her bent arm could not reach her mouth and we watched and laughed for a bit before suggesting maybe using her other hand. We have to get our amusement somewhere! She will go to daycamp tomorrow, but very upset that she is not allowed to swim. The splint goes off and on easy enough but they don't want her putting any stress on the elbow, so swimming is out. Hopefully by tomorrow things will be a bit more normal and I will have gotten back into the swing of things. For now, I have some groceries to pick up but I'm waiting for the sun to go down and hopefully keep myself from steaming in the car like a mussel in white wine. The mussel has it better, at least it gets a drink before it cooks up.