Irony

Thirteen years to the day brings much different news...

Where's Quickhide?

As I was saying, I've got the most interesting neighbors. Years ago, we had The Runner. Some neighbors were certain she was training for a marathon but my husband was not so sure. He was convinced she was running from something in her life. We'd see her many, many miles from home. It was all she did. She'd come out of her door early in the morning and run all day. Thoughtfully, while running, she'd left her young daughter behind at home with her mother.  Eventually, many hours later and well after dark, she'd come back.  

I think she was running from my next door neighbor Quickhide, the one on my left-who is completely out of her mind. When I first moved in here, I thought Quickhide was charming. And she was Middle Eastern, just like us. The only difference was she was the real deal, a Syrian immigrant. It didn't take too long for the real person within her to emerge. Quickhide would knock on my door at the butt crack of dawn, carrying an empty coffee cup and pretty much invite herself in for a pot of joe. Not a cup.  A pot. Subtle hints like starting to vacuum, dust and mop around her, just couldn't get rid of her. Soon, it was all about her. Can you shovel her snow? Can you trim her shrubs? Can you mow her lawn? Can you move her furniture?  Whatever the request, it was always prefaced with a complement. "Can your strong and handsome husband do something for me?"  When my son was old enough, the question became, "can your strapping young son do something for me?" This woman had adult children of her own who were fully capable of doing her chores.  Also, I think she's loaded.  If nothing else, she could have paid people to do these things.

I pretty much stopped inviting her into the house. I had to because she never knew when to leave and she couldn't take an outright invitation to leave-let alone a subtle hint.  With her around, I couldn't get anything done. Nobody could.   She hated being in her home and because of that, she became the entire neighborhood's problem. She was like Velcro-she'd stick to you like nothing else. There have been times over the years when I've watched every neighbor on the block scatter when they saw her coming. Everyone would be outside doing something in their yards but when they saw her coming, it was as if the plague were headed their way. That's when we took to calling her Quickhide. Quick! Hide! Here she comes.  Everyone would scatter leaving yard tools everywhere.

If we weren't careful when pulling into or out of the drive, she'd corner us to talk. And talk. And talk. And talk.  These were always one sided conversations about her.  Or her husband- but mainly her.  Poor Rachel has been used as an excuse for years.  "Look Quickhide, I'd love to stay and talk, but I can't leave Rachel alone."  And, "no, I don't need company.   You don't want to go in there because she has the flu, bronchitis, meningitis, pneumonia, malaria, ecoli, cholera, measles, chicken pox AND ebola virus right now."  If another one of us was in the house and saw one of us cornered, they'd step outside with the receiver of the phone as a ploy to say goodbye to Quickhide.  That person would say, "it's Grandma on the phone and something is terribly wrong."  I don't know if she knew it, but there was never anyone on the other end of the phone.  It was a prop.   She would then move along down the street to corner some other neighbor unwise enough to be caught unprepared.

The other day, I got a call to go out and pronounce a patient's death.  Now, I have one hour between the time I get the page, until the time I show up at a person's doorstep when a death has occurred.   We don't want family members to be alone during that time.  It's stressful enough and this is one of those times they really need us.   Unfortunately, I didn't check to be sure the coast was clear before I left the house.  Usually, I'm in my car with the windows up when I press the button on the garage door opener.  It doesn't matter if the coast is clear this way.  There I was standing there in my scrubs with my patient bag, computer bag and emergency box, when out of nowhere, Quickhide shows up and wants to talk.  I felt I'd been caught with my pants down.   I had to bluntly tell her, "look, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to go."  "Now."  Five minutes later, I told her forcefully, "look, you have to move out of the way, I'm leaving."  I even told her where I was going.  That someone had died and there was a family in need.  Even that didn't move her.  How can a person be this thick?  I don't have what it takes to be rude and often find myself cornered by her.  After 15 years, you'd think I'd know to send scouts out first to be sure I'm safe in leaving.  Someday, surely I'll learn.

Old Fashioned Horse Race? Not Exactly...

I totally swiped this link from Romi.

This woman is living my dream. I'm amazed at how industrious this city girl seems to be. I'm completely impressed and somewhat envious that she found a way to do what's called her. She has my vote and if you're as in love with her YouTube video as I am, she'll probably have yours. Finally! There is something worth voting for this fall:

Help her race to the finish and win the tools she needs for making her business a success.

Let's show the MV Fiber Farm how powerful knitters and bloggers and knitters who blog really are.

Peat and Repeat

Duplicate Day is a code I have for my husband when he is approaching that point where he'll be stepping on my last nerve.  Since he has talent for doing this on a daily basis, I started using my code daily.  If he pissed me off, I'd say, "gee, it's gonna be a duplicate day."  I use it interchangeably as code for boredom.  It's a Duplicate Day, oh don't you feel it?  It's a Duplicate Day-don't let it get away (sung to U2's Beautiful Day).  The repetition of the daily grind is sometimes more than I can bear and it's begun to seep into my little pastime.   This has lead to castonitis with my knitting.  Bored?  Let's cast on something new and ignore that bunch of knitting in the corner that is lying there unfinished.

I don't know what has happened to my knitting drive.  I've misplaced it.  Oh, I do it alright, here and there, but not like I had been.  Shhhhhh.  Don't tell anyone but, I think I'm bored with it all and this worries me.  What's up with this?  Is it the repetition of projects?  I finished one this month.  The thrummed mittens.  I'm not getting that warm fuzzy feeling that knitting usually brings me.  I can't get excited about any of it.  Sh*t.  Is there a doctor I can call about this malady?  Do you think casting on for something will help?  Or should I buckle down and finish one of those projects just lying about the joint?  Do you think that will give me a sense of accomplishment?  I'm just not certain.  The last time I laid down my knitting needles, it was 25 years before I picked them back up.  I can't even begin to go there.

What do you do when what you usually do for entertainment begins to bore you?  How do you get those feelings of satisfaction back?

Oh Yay!

Finally!  My Michigan 3 Day Movie.  Thank you Creed for the free use of your music for such a worthy cause.  I want to say a special thank you to everyone who supported me.  I'm truly grateful.

Spirit

Me and my tent mate Linda. We met through corresponding on line in search of a tent mate. Oddly, we are both Knitting Nurses. And her husband is a weaver-he made that stunning scarf she is wearing. Look closely at Linda's credentials. She over did it and got placed on hold for the event late Saturday afternoon-after she got 2 liters of IV saline. She didn't give up and go home though, she stuck it out and returned to work on Sunday.

I wish you could all see the movie I've made with iMovie'08. It's pretty fabulous-if I must say so myself. I've tried various ways to publish it and have run into a few problems. I've given up for the time being. Once again, you'll have to be satisfied with some still shots of some amazing moments during the 3 Day event.

You know, sometimes items in the news can bring a girl right back down to earth. I was completely surprised to hear Paul Newman had died. We must have been living in a bubble for 3 days. After what happened yesterday, I wish I could go right back into that bubble.


If you're troubled about your future leaders and what kind of men we are raising, I'd like to put your mind at ease. Meet the Romeo High School football team-this event is a requirement for them and was arranged by their coach. They came to camp in two buses on Friday and Saturday. On the first day, they greeted walkers at the entrance to camp and walked them to their luggage and rolled up tents. They carried both items to the assigned tent address and set up the tents for walkers and crew.

Coach doesn't exactly put a gun to their heads, but for 3 days every year, these young men do a little community service. This year was their 3-peat and it appears to me, they enjoy it. On day two, they cheer every walker through the entry to camp. When they're done with that, they greet each walker as they come through the food line and carry their plates and drinks to their table for them. They are full of enthusiasm for what they do and it is so refreshing. Some of them wore angel's wings. Some paraded around with giant pink ribbons. I hope these pictures are proof that while some people in this country can't get anything right, others are picking up the slack.

I work for a really big health system in southeast Michigan. Like in every other aspect of life, our health system has a cross town competitor. Just as in sports, there will sometimes be gentle ribbing when employees of the competitors find themselves sharing the same spaces. Meet the girls from the competition. These ladies work in their hospital's rapid response department. They worked quite well together and when the going got rough for the lunch crew, they provided the comic relief.

Now their hospital always seems to have a lot of fluff in their budget. Our employees always bemoan how well their staff has it; it's like they live on easy street. For some reason, this doesn't look like easy street to me.

Here is your knitting nurse on day one of the event, well after her assigned post had closed up shop for the day. I don't know how wise it was of me to bring wool to this event. On the morning of day 2, the socks I'd brought with me to work on, pink of course, were wet from the moisture in the air. I was unable to work on them after the first day. Wool + moisture + agitation= felt.


Michigan has passed the 3 Day torch to Washington, D.C. I am hoping with all of my heart that the 3 Day spirit works its way through our nation's capital. I think our leaders could use it.

Home Again, Home Again

Day 1 medical lunch stop crew. What wasn't divulged to me when I signed up was that we were to set up all of our own western exposure tents, pop tents and supplies. Yikes! In this picture, our mobile medical camp was only 30% complete. Notice we were still smiling.

What an amazing weekend I had. I'm quite simply exhausted and have muscle soreness where I didn't think muscles existed. But really, I'm not whining. I'm not! Detroit 3 Day walkers and crew raised an astounding 7.5 million dollars. I think that is incredible since the economic downturn in this area of the country has been one of the longest and most severe and still, we raised that much money for this very special cause. Eighty five percent of what we raise will go directly to Susan G. Komen For the Cure. The remainder goes to their partner, The National Philanthropic Trust which organizes and pulls off amazing events like this one. I am so proud to be a participant in such an important venture, so much so, I signed up for next year.

I'm totally exhausted, but in a good way. Everything aches a bit and I think my nose is still frozen from sleeping in an itty-bitty tent on a very cold night. I'm not whining though. Well, maybe a little. If I can figure out iMovie08, I'll post a slide show. Since that promises to be a bit of a challenge, some snapshots of my weekend will have to do. Right now, I have a date with a tempurpedic mattress.