Pixies and Pixels

Today is the day where we will find out who will be gloating and who amongst us will be crying in our oatmeal as we watch the morning news tomorrow. To take your mind off your candidate of choice, I'd like to take you for a stroll through the insane asylum. I do this as a public service so you know that no matter how bad things are, they can always be worse.

WANTED:

Stinkerbell McBookeater 

for the crime of almost starting WWIII

Years and years ago, there was a beautiful book out that had large pictures of Disney characters. Within each picture, were hundreds of smaller photographs or pictures (pixels) of the movie the character starred in. For instance, you could look at a large picture of Tinkerbell and see within the picture, scenes from the movie Peter Pan. Hundreds of them. This was one of Rachel's favorite books. She would stare at each photo for hours, devouring the hidden scenes within them. When I found this book at an area Borders Express, I bought every single copy. A half dozen of them. Then I scoured the area's Borders stores for more. Her caregivers did the same thing.  All told, I think we found about ten copies which we hid and then brought out on special occasions.

Don't be mislead by that innocent photo at the top, the truth is, our little pixie Rachel isn't very nice to books. When I say she would devour the books, I mean that figuratively and literally. She will chew on a book and its binding until there is no evidence it ever existed. Medically, this eating disorder is called pica. She has it. When she was just a wee thing, she'd put anything inedible in her mouth and this isn't uncommon with youngsters. It's why we childproof a house. I have fond memories of calling her name one afternoon when she was out in our garden. When she turned around to look at me, her mouth was stuffed with marigolds. I'd give my kingdom for a photograph of that memory.

The evidence that perhaps, Stinkerbell hates Peter Pan

She will eat the last scrap of evidence that food ever existed too. The inedible portions, like a corn cob, the pit of a peach or the peel of a banana. I can't tell you how many times I had to call poison control in respect to consumption of bizarre things like ashes in the fireplace.  Once, she ate a poisonous plant on school grounds (don't ask) and had to go by ambulance to an ER where she stubbornly refused to drink the activated charcoal.  For 4 hours, she was kept on a heart monitor to be sure she hadn't suffered cardiac toxicity from her brush with the plant.  Now if she would eat ashes, don't you think she'd drink the charcoal?  Nope.  She'd have nothing to do with it!  This girl has kept me hopping for a solid 18 years. Our home was childproofed in the most bizarre ways.   We went through duct tape like nobody's business.  We had a rope to tie the fireplace doors together and locks on every room in the house. We'd never entertain the idea of a fire unless she was already sound asleep and we had no plans to turn our backs on the fire.

Rachel also likes the glittery things in life. In that, she's no different than most girls. However, one can only take the gold bracelet back to the jeweler so many times before the jeweler becomes suspicious about how the links to the bracelet just fell apart. I think the tooth impressions set in the gold tipped him off. I know that my husband's original wedding ring ultimately got flushed. There is no other explanation for why it went missing. I draw the line at sifting through poop when it comes to finding missing items.

Sadly, that Disney pixel book is no longer in print. It was her favorite-even more than all the Dr. Seuss books. Those Seuss books almost started World War III. We were at my mother in law's house when disaster struck and Rachel had herself a Seuss feast. Those books didn't belong to her though; they were my sister in laws and she about died when she saw what her niece had done to her childhood memories. I got an earful the day this tragedy came to light. I was so used to our daughter's disorder that I sort of took the whole episode in stride and tried to find humor in it.  Like, maybe she was hungry and those green eggs and ham were irresistible.  I had no idea how this event would upset someone not used to the daily consumption of books and I was taken aback by how stricken my sister in law was.  Years later, having lost two beautiful gold bracelets to this disorder, I sort of get why she was so upset.  To say the least, it can be stressful living with a child like Stinkerbell but luckily, Dr. Seuss books can be replaced. So can wedding rings and bracelets. I miss that out of print Disney pixel book though and wish I could find some to replace those that have given their all to bring a girl pleasure.

Word of the Day

Marquise Gauntlets from Elann

gauntlet

noun
Etymology:
Middle English, from Middle French gantelet, diminutive of gant glove, from Old French, of Germanic origin; akin to Middle Dutch want glove
Date:
15th century

1 : a glove worn with medieval armor to protect the hand
2 : any of various protective gloves used especially in industry
3 : an open challenge (as to combat) —used in phrases like throw down the gauntlet
4 : a dress glove extending above the wrist

Definition is from Merriam-Webster On Line

Now, you may have been slightly led to believe this is a post about knitting. Nope. It's a post about definition number 3 as I prepare myself to do my civic duty this week. There is one thing I totally despise and that's the running of the gauntlet of last second politicians hoping to secure my vote as I walk into the polling booth. If it's anything like in the past, there will be people standing outside the elementary school handing out emery boards, fliers, brochures, candies, pretzels and lip service. This will all be in an attempt to be sure their names are the last I recall as I enter to place my ballot. It's as though they believe I'll forget the name of the candidates I'd like to see win and only recall those who've tried to entice me at the last minute. I always keep my head down and plow right through these campaigners-unless they're handing out red licorice. I can't resist the red licorice.  Oh the shame of it!  Selling my vote for a rope of red candy.

Raindrops on Roses

Rainfall at Cricket's Crossing April 2008 (click on the picture to see the fat raindrops and petals falling)

I signed up to do a blogpost per day during the month of November (check the little icon in the corner). It was Mrs. G who posed the question about feeling epic and joining NaBloPoMo. While I'm not feeling truly epic, it shouldn't be too difficult to come up with a post a day. I'm not often at a loss for words. In fact, I talk and argue points with people all the time. I should have been a lawyer. Instead, I've used my gift for gab to be a hospice nurse. If I'd shut up at work, I'm quite certain I wouldn't be dealing with epic starts of care. Everyone else tells me they can do one in 2 hours. Ha. It takes me 3 and sometimes 4 hours to do a start. Somehow, I believe one shouldn't rush through the start of anything. I believe my patients and their loved ones deserve at least an unhurried beginning at what will be the ultimate of endings.

While driving all over the city yesterday, I started thinking about the things I really like. I don't know why I was thinking this would make a good blogpost. I should have written some of these things down because I can't remember half of them now. I was going to present it as a product review and a peek into the things in life that please me. So, here are a few of the items in the plus column of my life:

Henri Bendel Fig Candle: You can buy this at Bath and Body Works for $26.00. It's my favorite candle with a fresh and soothing scent. It's pricey but worth the amount I paid. As long as I don't forget I lit it and let the thing burn for hours at a time, it'll last quite awhile. Once in a blue moon, you can find these on Ebay dirt cheap. However, these may be candles that "fell" off the back of the truck. Just saying.

Starbucks' Hot Chocolate: Their new caramel and salt hot chocolate drink is amazing. I've really got to stay away from this place with their overpriced and fattening drinks. This drink was heavenly. The chocolate is a bit bitter which offsets the sweet caramel and whipped cream. The salt makes my taste buds dance.

Gas Prices: Gas prices of late make me happy. I filled my tank for less than $30 last night. I could have done even better but the cheapest spot to fill was one in the worst neighborhood. This boon, while I'm sure temporary, makes my mileage reimbursement go a lot further than it did last month. Whew. Maybe I can afford that oil change and tire rotation now.

Falling Behind: I treasure the weekend where I get my hour of sleep back. Lord knows I'm enough of an insomniac-we don't need to be stealing hours away. Speaking of sleep...

...I heart my bed: Yes, my Tempur-Pedic bed has changed my life. I actually sleep through the night without interruption. Prior to buying this bed, I awakened nightly and often more than once, with back spasms. I'd have to stretch to be able to go back to sleep. I'm able to stay awake during the day now since I get quality sleep at night again. This bed was worth the shocking price.

My son and his dog Dukealicious, or more affectionately, my beastie boys.

Dukealicious: This dog continues to entertain me even when he chews through leather leashes. It's been almost 9 years since this sweet dog climbed into the lap of my son and cemented himself in our hearts. He was one of 7 or 8 pups we had to select from. The smart one. He appeared as a leggy little thing-as though he were a hotdog on stilts. I still remember his puppy breath. My mother in law used to rock him in a chair when he was just a wee thing. She wanted to be certain they'd be good friends. When she was sick and in the hospital, I got her a little plaque that said "home is where the dog is." It is indeed. Every single day, this dog uses his powerful snout to open the sliding patio doors whenever he wants in or out. He hasn't learned to close them but since the beginning, this dog has always gotten what he wants: control. I think it's the nature of the dobie beast.

Music: I love almost all music. As I exited my car to do a start of care last night, I was greeted with Mexican music blasting from the house across the street from my patient's home. It made me smile. I asked my patient's son about this and he said they always turn up the volume; it wasn't just a Friday thing. I don't know why that made me happy, but it did. To me, that's zest for life at it's best. This neighborhood was a true melting pot. It was in the heart of Detroit's Mexican Town but had all kinds of residents living there. Everyone was outdoors and sitting on their porches enjoying Halloween trick or treaters and the warm evening. I think they were enjoying the music too. I wonder what kind of treats the music house passed out.

Humor: If you don't have a sense of humor, I believe you're losing out on what makes a human really special. I love to laugh. I like people who are humorous and appreciate this gift as a way to deal with sticky situations. Some poor souls don't have a sense of humor at all. Last night, I pronounced a death in a home setting. The family was laughing and telling stories of the last time they'd dealt with the funeral home. The person who retrieved mom years ago had asked the family to help him push her to his vehicle because he was by himself and couldn't do it alone. As they were assisting this guy, they remembered their mother's last wish was to leave the house foot first. They made the funeral home fellow turn her around so her feet exited the door first. They knew their mom had meant on her feet but still tried to honor her request in a quirky way. Years later, on the somber occasion of their dad's death, they were finding humor in the situation. They planned to make certain he left foot first too.

Yarn: I love good yarns. Both the stringy stuff and good stories. A good yarn is always entertaining. As I write this, I'm waiting for Jimmy Beans Wool to post this month's limited edition Lorna's Laces yarn. While trying to remain loyal to my beloved Lorna's Laces, I found limited edition Schaefer Yarn's Sock the Vote. Four limited edition yarns are available and I bought the Michelle colorway. It's incredibly bright and beautiful and yes, it makes me happy. I thought Sarah was drab and boring in a funereal way with repetitive colors. Cindy was OK but a bit overdone as though working hard to look too youthful. Hillary was way too green-like all the shades of envy. If you want yours, better hurry. Schaefer will stop dying the yarns on Tuesday and then that's it. If you're a sock yarnaholic like me, go ahead, make yourself happy. Now, either Jimmy's didn't sell Sarah, or they sold out. Either way, you can't get Sarah from Jimmy Beans. I'm hoping the country doesn't get her on Tuesday. Just saying.

These were a few of my favorite things. I don't really think often enough about the raindrops on roses. Maybe I should. Maybe we all should. So tell me, what are some of the things that bring you joy?

Schaefer Yarn's Michelle photo from Jimmy Beans Wool. All other photos property of Rudee.

Cleaning House

Here is a picture of my shiny and fresh smelling Dukealicious. He isn't too happy with any of us today because we loaded him up with Tramadol and took him to the Salon de Beastie for a little freshening up. He was smelling more of goat than dog. He despises getting a bath which is why I don't do it myself. It's too much of a battle. The last two times he's been dragged into the place, he's chewed through his leash. Next time, he goes with a heavy rope. As I write this, he is passed out on the sofa. What a stoner.

I'm falling way behind on the knitting front. I think it's because I can't stop starting new things. From this point forward, I'll start nothing new until I finish up what needs finishing. Yeah right. Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop buying yarn either. I'm like a squirrel trying to pack the yarn away for a rainy day. Well, it can start raining any day now and I won't run out of yarn until the 12th of Never.

Here is the election day hat. I've not worked on it for a couple of days because frankly, it was moving along too fast and I wanted to savor it. I'm ready to do the shaping along the top of the hat-another 15 rows and it's done. It is so soft and pretty. I can't wait to go out and vote in this.

OK, here is clapotis which I've been working on feverishly. I thought I'd like to take it to Virginia with me next weekend. It's a misshapen blob of yarn right now but have faith! When I bind it off and give it a bath, I'll block it and this piece will have a different shape. The yarn has been wonderful to work with and I know I have enough to knit a sweater from this stuff.

Speaking of sweaters, I bought the yarn for this one last January. I've knit the sweater. I've washed and blocked it. I did that in June. It is still sleeveless, but look! The yarn, the needles and the pattern have moved closer together. Does that mean a complete little wrap is in my future? Do you think I can finish Clapotis, the sweater and the hat all in the same week? I'm not so sure, but I'll be darned if I cast on for another thing before I do.

Let's not talk about the green sweater for my daughter-even though I've started the hem. In addition, do not mention the afghan I started for her almost 2 years ago and got bored with, or the 2 different pairs of socks I've got going (and really, these UFOs are only the tip of the iceberg). Sunday, I'm cleaning out the yarn bins and deciding which objects are going to be finished and which ones I'll frog and make into something different. Clearly, I have an OCD some project loyalty issues here...

BOO!

The Devil You Say

Years ago, when I was just a young little brat, Devil's Night was something my friends and I looked forward to. We'd plot, plan and spend weeks squirreling away toilet paper and soap. When dark would fall on the 30th of October, we'd go out painting neighbor's windows with Dial soap. Sometimes, we'd T.P. trees in the neighborhood. Always, we'd torment ring doorbells of crotchety old neighbors then run like hell laughing all the way. That was about the worst thing we did.

As I got older, thankfully, I outgrew my mischievous ways. Devil's Night never went away though and over the years, it grew more and more sinister. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, Detroit became renowned for Devil's Night and Halloween fires. During a period of 3 to 4 days, the city would burn. Sometimes, it was hooligans out to create mayhem. Sometimes the culprits were people in a community burning down nearby abandoned homes. Often, they'd neglect to take into consideration the weather or the proximity of adjacent structures that still had people living in them. Frequently, business owners used the guise of this notorious day to offload an albatross. There were always hundreds of fires over the course of this "holiday." The city landscape is dotted with many empty lots where the homes were burned to the ground. Firefighters worked their asses off during these periods and were kept so busy putting out nuisance fires like garage structures that they just couldn't keep up with more important dwellings.

This has never completely gone away though the actual number of fires has been drastically reduced. Victories are measured in actual fire calls which are down to levels that are almost normal for a regular night. Devil's Night is called Angel's night here these days and the city heavily recruits civilian volunteers (angels) to patrol the streets looking for vandals.


I'm not particularly looking forward to being out and about in the city today and Friday. I'm hoping for an actual reduction in calls for a hospice nurse or nothing but facility admissions. I'd rather spend my evening in a hospital than out roaming the streets. I don't care how many angels are out patrolling. This is no longer a day I look forward to.

Wild Turkey

My brother's back yard on Tuesday:

Besides the obvious, what do you call a grouping of turkeys?

Besides stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, what goes good with turkey?  I'd say a fiddle.  I heard the Detroit Symphony Orchestra do a rendition of this song that sounded amazing.  Too bad I couldn't find that.

Turkey in the Straw: