Showing posts with label Menopause Sucks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Menopause Sucks. Show all posts

Friday, May 30, 2008

Temptation and War Crimes


I wish I were saying I was kicking the bucket, but I'm not. I cast on sock # 4 for sock wars late last night. I can't really say why this pair isn't done yet. I'm not really ignoring them-they just seem to go on forever for such a short little pair of socks. One would think I was knitting intricate kilt hose for a man with a size 15 shoe. They're just short little socks for a target who wears a size 7 shoe.


Part of the problem is a deficit in the attention department. I seem to find one thing and then another that drags me away from what I need to be doing. These things aren't necessarily important to me. They're just little temptations that lead me astray or off task. Last night, I played with a feature on my Macbook that I had no idea was even residing in my applications. I'd gone looking for my Flickr Uploadr so I could add images to use as my Ravatar and found photo booth too. It takes a picture with my built in camera and can change the effects of the photo as it snaps it. I thought thermal was a great choice given the recent reappearance of my hot flashes. But it does xray too. And sepia, comic book, pencil sketch, pop art and of course, normal. It was way cooler than knitting Ruth's sock (sorry Ruth, but it was.)


The other thing that led me astray was watching Ghost for the millionth time. I can do without the gooey parts of that movie. Truth be told, I watch it for the scenes with Whoopi. By this time, it was 11:30 PM when the movie started and I was whipping through that sock. I was on the cuff that was K1P1 for 12 rows and just going around and around my needles in a mindless way. Thinking I was at the part where I'd start the pattern, I looked down and saw that I had left out those pesky purl stitches for the past three rows and I had only 9 rows of ribbing with 3 rows of stockinette stitch. Dammit. So I frogged ever so delicately back to row 8 and tried to finish the rib. It's Whoopi's fault.

Lastly, I am knitting these for a woman who has petite feet. I was thrown by how small the first completed sock appears. I've never knit for someone with such a dainty foot. I'm used to knitting for people including myself, who have pretty large feet for girls. There I am, looking at sock one and wondering if my trusty little sheep tape measure is lying. It isn't but I'm worried. Therefore Ruth, if you are reading this, I've made the toe easy to unravel in case you need to make an adjustment. I also made an executive decision to give you a more feminine toe on this sock. I hope you know a good lawyer I could use in case I get arrested for making a change to the pattern. I took the toe down to 14 stitches on each needle and then did a stunningly executed Kitchener stitch.



Tuesday, May 27, 2008

War Tactics


Winter. I was sick to death of winter and all of the snow we had this year. It was beyond disgusting to deal with for so long. On the other hand, I don't recall a single hot flash. The weight of blankets while I sleep is so comforting to me and something I have to wait until winter to enjoy. It's like being in a cocoon or nest. Winter was fabulous for my menopausal body.

Spring has bloomed however, along with my lilacs (very late) and irises (loaded with buds). The temperature is up and so are the hot flashes. I've also started taking a vitamin supplement that's supposed to stop the ringing in my ears. It's loaded with B vitamins and those also cause hot flashes. I no sooner get out of the shower, dried off, dressed and I begin to feel wilted and miserable. I walk around with a perpetual bead of sweat on my brow.

Until now, it's been sort of cool though and no need to turn on the A/C-until yesterday. It was hot. It was humid. I walked in from work to a sweltering home yesterday and turned on the air. First time this year. My husband got home from work two hours later and said, "it's beautiful out." He shut off the air and opened the windows. This to me is an act of war and frankly, I'm a little thin on the manpower to wage war on more than one front.


I got up, shut the windows and turned the air back on. After a satisfying hockey game, I went to bed and saw he had turned the thermostat up to 75. OK. I knew I'd felt hot but kept my mouth shut thinking it was just my blood boiling. I turned it down to 72 and went to bed. At precisely 1:40 this morning, I woke up ROASTING. And it wasn't from a clandestine meeting with Leonardo DiCaprio. It was the temperature in the room. I got up drenched and headed out to check the thermostat. Shit. It was 77 degrees in this house.


Awake, I began to plot all the nasty things I could do and say to my husband when next I talked to him. Feeling miserable at 2 in the morning is about all I can take. Waiting for the air to cool off (it's more the humidity than the temp that gets to me), I plotted my revenge in this round of the summer thermostat wars. I could only come up with breaking his fingers.