Archive for January, 2012

uh-oh

January 26, 2012

pssssssst. Guess what? I will be going to regular exercise classes for 13 weeks at the local Y starting Monday. I know, I know. I’m shocked too. Well, what happened is that my friend Bobbi (of the yarn Christmas present surprise), who is undergoing treatment for ovarian cancer, asked if I would join her in a Live Strong program at the Y for cancer survivors. Moi? Exercise? or even more importantly, I “survived” cancer from over 24 years ago. So, I assured my friend I would follow through and call the Y, and before you know it, a very accommodating, enthusiastic trainer, Sherrie, signed me up. She wasn’t concerned about how long my cancer has been “cured”, she was more concerned about Bobbi’s health, and how I could contribute to that as well as make myself healthier. It turns out this class puts Bobbi and I in a study, so we will be helping others as well. Now where oh where are my sneakers?

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Places I have visited in my lifetime (so far)

January 19, 2012


visited 15 states (6.66%)
Create your own visited map of The World or jurisdische veraling duits?


visited 25 states (50%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or Free ipad travel guide

The invisible dog

January 17, 2012

When I was younger and lived at home, my mother decided we weren’t going to have pets, even though my father begged her for a dog. Her theory was that she would end up taking care of it, and she had enough to do with her two children and her husband. I do remember two instances where we “sort of” had pets. Once when I was real little, we had a goldfish bowl. Somehow in my fuzzy memory they got fed tobacco from one of my mother’s cigarettes, and floated belly up soon thereafter. The next fuzzy memory is of my father coming home with a parakeet. He either won it in a poker game (that’s how we got our electrolux) or it was an impulse buy. Either way, when it got out of the cage and flew into my mother’s 60’s updo hairdo, that was the end of the bird. When I married, my husband sensed my sense of loss of something (independence I think), and he got me a kitten. My first bona fide pet. Her name was Purr, and I pet the poor thing so vigorously she thought she was getting beaten, until I understood the subtleties of petting. She was soon joined by Scrunch, a black pregnant stray. Those two cats were my lovies, and they both lived long lives. During their lives with us we moved many times, and they felt safe with us during each move. They both lived into their teens. We next found a cat while camping at Keuka Lake, New York State. After finding out from the park ranger that she was a stray, the husband attracted her to our tent with little bits of cold cuts speared on pieces of sticks and grass all the way to our campsite. Home she came with us, in two laundry baskets, one upended on the other. She was all white, with a smudged number 7 on her forehead and David Bowie eyes. Keuka quickly became my husband’s cat, but she also loved me as well. When I was sick with cancer, and home between chemo sessions she would curl up to me, and lick my bald head, curing me all the quicker. She too lived a long life. Now we have Miss Kitty. She is the first cat we ever rescued from a pound. She was languishing in a small cage for 9 months before we came along. We weren’t the first to adopt her, as she was brought back twice. The shelter wanted to make sure we made the right choice and kept saying “are you sure you want her?”. We took her home, and she is our “favorite kitty from the pound”. She has been with us for 11 years now. As she ages, I have been thinking about my next pet. I want a dog, I think. I think a dog will save my life on many levels. One, on the exercise level. I am a devoted pet owner and will do anything for my animal. I need exercise desperately, and a dog will make me obligated to do so. Two, as I get older, I may need a service dog. While one can’t predict what will happen in the future, I have been told that I have the beginnings of dry macular degeneration. With that in mind I would love to be able to train a dog in such a way that it would love to help me out. We’ll see.

In the meantime when I go on my morning walks, I pretend to be going out to walk the invisible dog, mainly to allay my husband’s fears of “you’ll never walk the dog, and that means I’ll have to.”

New Hat

January 8, 2012

Children's hat

The husband took this picture of my new hat. He thinks we should send this image to Greg Fergusen (CBS) for his sidekick, Geoff.

addicted to knitting hats

I think it looks fine on my head, too.

Early Winter Walk

January 7, 2012

The unexpected joy of friendship

January 6, 2012

Vanna White Yarn

Holidays become more “routine” the older you get. What I mean to say is that you go through the motions of decorating, making cookies, writing Christmas cards, even attending holiday parties. But somehow the magic has been warn thin. For one thing, you have everything you could possibly want, so no one exchanges gifts anymore. We all have said in some way or the other “spend the money on yourself instead of me”. No longer do you expect anything personal or even meaningful, and resort to buying yourself gifts to try to capture the spirit of “giving”.

This year two friends of mine made me well up with tears. They both took the time to give me personal gifts that mean more to me than they will ever know. It has been a very very long time since anyone has touched that childlike Christmas holiday spot in my heart.

One friend, Linda, who is a quilter, made me a quilt. I never in my wildest dreams expected to get such a labor of love. We are close friends for years, travel together, laugh together, and most importantly eat together. I consider her friendship the greatest gift of all. This year she presented me with my very own quilt. It is so precious a gift, that I can barely touch it without crying. Right now it sits next to me on my couch, as I sit there and knit and watch tv. Eventually it will cover me, but right now, it sits beside me, a folded bundle of patched love.

Another friend, Bobbi, is going through a life changing experience with chemotherapy. We have been friends off and on over the years, with common friends, and a common sense of a passion for learning. She was our school librarian, and was constantly on the cutting edge of knowledge and technology. She was my go to person. In my own way I have become her go to person. I had the same type of cancer she has and was treated and recovered 24 years ago. When I found out she was diagnosed, I reached out to her and offered some anecdotal advice, hoping to comfort her and allay her fears. On the way to one of her chemotherapy sessions she asked me about my hat knitting passion of late. I told her how I was knitting hats for the homeless, and she asked how many skeins of yarn it took, how long, etc. etc. Little did I know that when I dropped her off at her session she immediately got online with her iPad and put in an order for over 30 skeins of yarn that she had delivered to my house. Her generosity to this fiber artist rendered me speechless. As many of us who knit do, I collect, sort and hoard yarn so that I have just the right color, texture, and amount I may need for the “next project”. Like with the quilt, I just look at my new stash of yarn and well up.

I am just a sentimental old fool.