Do please leave comments when you read my blog--it lets me know that someone out there considers me interesting enough to read this silly endeavor--
Allbeit, my therapist says that it's a good thing I blog, else I'd go nuts.
So why am I paying her?
Something to think about, I suppose.
I am finally getting to cleaning up the living room. I have a ton of stuff that needs to go downstairs--and some that needs to go to other people--so that I can get my living room back--and it's a slow process. I try to take something downstairs every time I go down those steps, so that I don't waste a trip. Little by little, things are "disappearing" from the living room and "reappearing" downstairs--and once I'm done with the upstairs, I'll start on the downstairs. Right now, there are a couple of bigger items to take down, but I'll leave those for last for when hubby is in the right frame of mind to help.
I had an odd dream last night--well, good and odd. I was Christmas shopping, and I lost my son and mother AND my car--and some nice young man helped me to find them again. I was 20 or so, my son was little, my mother was her young self again, and I had lost a ton of weight--so much so that I had this flap of skin in front left over from the weight loss. Here's the odd parts--first, I was never fat when I was young, and the left over skin was shaped like a, hmm...how do I say this without actually saying it? It looked like a part of the male anatomy--attached to my belly button--or just slightly below, in the "men NOT working" zone.
When I discovered this, um, disconformity--I became very weirded out, and my only thought was that of heading to a plastic surgeon to have it removed. Once I was focused on that task, however, I found my mom and son, and between all of us, we finally located my car and we drove home.
There are cultures that believe in transmigration of the soul into other forms. I personally am not one of those cultures, but I am aware of them. Whether past or present, I have no knowledge of that business, but I remember understanding that some souls went up the chain of command (god being the highest, man the next, then woman, then dog--I think--and on down a list after that which I can't remember), and all of it had to do with whether you were deemed good or bad when you were alive AKA karma. So if this dream has anything to do with "karma" (laughing at myself here) then I got stuck in my dream, somewhere in the midst of man and woman--they have a name for that--and I know that there are children who are born that way--with both male and female "parts", and that doctors do try to make these babies one or the other, whichever is most predominant and easiest. Be darned if I can remember what they call the condition, at the moment. But it's not important. What IS, is that this one is "movin' on up".
I seriously have to get my dog on video--and upload it here. Somedays, I think Mandy is a little spastic in her love of the "ball", which doesn't actually have to be a "ball"--it could be a sock or a slipper or any other "toy" that lays on the floor at the time. Remember, the floor is her domain--so anything left there, is fair game--for the game that is. She tosses the ball in the air, catches it, runs around the room, bounces it on the floor, catches it again, then runs to the other end of the house--until she tires of the game. Barking and carrying on as if she's playing "keep away" from some ghost. It's really quite comical, and means that I don't always have to play with her, since she can entertain herself at times, while at the same time entertaining me. But for some odd reason, if I giggle at her behavior, she stops--as if what she's doing is somehow deemed abnormal--well, okay, it is--but it's funny and I really hate that she thinks she has to stop because I giggle.
There are sounds that she is very timid about--gunshots, fireworks, the computer printer, voices coming from the computer, my giggles, the dog barking next door--she seems to go into some sort of insanity when those "sounds" come up. I have tried to print things and set her into "calm-submissive state" as Ceasar Millan says--to get her accustomed to the fact that she doesn't need to fear the sound of the printer. Some sounds are frightening enough to send her to the bathroom, shuddering under the stool--wrapped up into a little ball--and she's not a little dog--but she seems to basically crawl into a hole and bury herself! If I go in and try to draw her out, she will come out, but she looks into every cranny about the house to make sure there's no bomb there. She sniffs everything to make sure that it's sound and healthy. God help you if another shot rings out!
So yes, you could say my dog is a tad neurotic, but I love her to death anyway. I would love to be able to give her a space where she could get away from the sounds that trigger her timidity, but I live in the country, and that's expectations a bit over the top.
So please, tell me what you think of my version of the mini-mochi eye socks, because they are definitely very different from the ones on the Crystal Palace Yarn page, and I like them even better than the ones on the web--today, they are blocking. I am going to finish up the dishcloth from the Mid-Month Monthly Dishcloth today, and then go into town on several errands--I'm meeting a friend at the gas station to drop off his dog hair, then to the pharmacy to pick up scripts and milk and perhaps some sandwich meat, and after that, I'm headed to the LYS and pick up that white wool yarn for the owl. Then I will begin on the owl.
He's crochet, which is a break from the normal knitting habit. He's really cute. I downloaded the pic from Ravelry to show you here.