Sunday Sundry 3-25-18

A few weeks ago, I sat here and composed a long, sort of catch-up post.  Spent a couple hours on it (I am not a fast blogger, especially with so much time having passed since the last entry).  Saved it to edit a bit more later, and went to lunch.  When I came back to it, I went to make one small change and just like that—poof—it was gone!  The "undo" button was of no use; the entire post had vanished.

Fate or fumble fingers?  Perhaps both.  Frustrating?  To say the least.  I was not about to repeat the effort in that moment, so just walked away.

Anyway, hello again.  I'm still here, doing the day-to-day, and hope you are too.

(My first wall hanging, made for Dad in 1993)

I spent a lot of time in January going through my dad's stuff.  He was kind of pack rat, but in the best way.  That is, if he kept something, it had meaning to him, nostalgic, sentimental or historical value.  Of course, in the end, it's all just "stuff," but in sifting through it and dividing it among my siblings, I wondered and mused, marveled and giggled (and even Googled).  It has been an interesting, cathartic, and healing process.

My sewing space was strewn with paperwork, photos, memorabilia, and other non-fabric related whatnots for a couple months.  I spent a lot of time there in the basement, not sewing.  But I got a lot done, things organized and dealt with, funeral thank-yous and other notes written, etc. 

And then there was the radon.

January was "Radon Awareness Month," per various plugs I'd seen online and in the media.  On a whim one day, I followed a link to order a test kit, and a week or so later had completed it and sent it in for analysis.  A couple days later, an email arrived with the results.  And I freaked out.

My sewing room, my Happy Place where I've spent countless hours in the past 20 years, measured four times the actionable level of radon.

Fast forward 10 days, and a mitigation truck was in the driveway.  A system (pipe and fan) was installed to vent the gas from where it collects under the concrete slab/basement floor to outside and above the roof line, where it is discharged into the general atmosphere.  Followup testing last week showed the level is now down to nearly zero.  Happy Place restored.

So there was that.

Meanwhile, I brought a sewing machine upstairs to the kitchen table and made a memory quilt out of Dad's old shirts and one pair of pajamas.  

I went back to using the living room floor as my design wall.

I needed to keep my mind focused on something productive, other than fretting about the stuff I couldn't see or taste or smell, much less control.  (You know, if radon smelled like manure or rotten eggs, I bet we'd all be dealing with it pronto.)

Soon, there was this.

I am going to send it out for quilting, although I haven't determined where yet.  My local long arm quilter has moved away to live with her elderly mother.  She did give me the names of a couple other local quilters, but I haven't contacted them yet.

Some of those shirts were a bit finicky to work with.  I ended up fusing interfacing to the backs of the thinner ones.  A couple others want to fray if you just look at them sideways.  I zigzagged the edges in the most troublesome areas.  But the sooner it's quilted, I think, the better.

I did another little memory project that I'll tell you about in another post. Hint:  It involves the three ties pictured on the table above.

Oh Brooklyn Brooklyn Take Me In

I missed yesterday in the 31 Day Blog Writing Challenge.  It was a busy day, work-wise, and besides that, my thoughts were preoccupied by other things.

My daughter's cat had major surgery yesterday on his ears to treat a bad infection, and I was anxious to hear how it went.  In the late evening, I finally got word.

The surgery itself seemed to go well, but he developed breathing problems afterwards and actually coded.  He was resuscitated with CPR and whatnot, but in order to breathe, because of postsurgical complications, he needed an emergency tracheostomy.  Hopefully, this will allow the complications to resolve in a week or so.  Meanwhile, he's got drains on either side of his neck from his ear surgery, as well as the trach, and everything has to be kept clear. 

My daughter says he's been sleeping a lot today and will have to spend another night in kitty hospital.  I hope he's got one of my kennel quilts under him.

His name is Brooklyn, but we've always called him Keaky.  I have no idea why.

Adoption Day 2006

My daughter adopted him from the local humane society in 2006.  He has such a friendly personality.  I've always thought him more like a dog than a cat, as far as liking people.  He runs up to greet you when you come in the door and then does this thing where he paws at your shoes, as if to say, "Take them off and stay a while, please, so you can pet me."

For some strange reason, he never riled up my usually severe cat allergy.  In fact, when I noticed that I didn't sneeze and break out in an itchy rash around him, I had myself allergy tested to see if maybe I didn't have a cat allergy anymore.  Because then I would get myself a cat!

Unfortunately, testing showed I'm still quite allergic to cats, dang it.

We are hoping for a complete recovery for Keaky and a resolution of his complications.  The next few days will be critical.

*If you're wondering about the post title, it's from the song "I and Love and You," by The Avett Brothers.

Out the Door

I am in a decluttering mode.  I feel like there is too much stuff around and it's bugging me on both a physical (navigationally speaking) and psychological level.  So I am declaring this month "Out-the-Door October."

I'm going to spend a concentrated effort on dealing with stuff—donate it, sell it, organize it, shred it, toss it—and, of course, do some cleaning in the process.  The situation has reached critical mass and action must be taken.

So far, I've sold one typewriter on Craigslist and a bunch of shirts on eBay.  I listed more items this weekend.  Like this ladies' leather jacket.

Also, over the weekend, I cleaned the workshop, where my treadmill is located.  Since the days are getting cooler and it gets dark earlier, I'm walking more indoors again.  But ee-gads, the musty, dustiness in that room!  The workshop is not so much a man cave as it is a general storage area in the basement.  I Shop-Vac'd my heart out on Saturday and then took a small trunk load of stuff to Goodwill.  It felt good.

In the sewing department, I have started working on some things which may potentially be Christmas gifts.  Bummer that I can't share pictures of them at present, but you know how that goes.  I also need to get the sewing space organized better...somehow, some way.

And now for some whine: 

First it was burning mouth.  I've sort of gotten used to that, and it's mostly now a minor nuisance.  A couple weeks ago, though, my eyes started feeling really dry, burning, irritated, and red all the time.  I went to the doctor and got some drops for a possible infection, which didn't help because that apparently wasn't the cause.  Then I saw my optometrist last week because it was still bugging me (and I needed a general eye exam), and he said I've got chronic dry eyes.  He gave me some different, thicker, lubricating eye drops to use at least 6 times a day, probably for freakin' ever.

And of course, what irritates my eyes the most?  Computer work.  Hello?!  IT'S WHAT I DO—for a living and for fun! 

As Roseanne Roseannadana says, "It's always something."

I know that in the scheme of things, this is some petty B.S.  I have many blessings to count (and believe me, I do).  But man, it still ticks me off.  I want my 40s back, and all my hormones and all that went with them, and while I'm at it with the unreasonable requests, may I please have back the ability to digest wheat and dairy products?  Oh, and my retirement account balance pre-2008. Thanks.

I guess if there is a "good" takeaway, it is that this reminds me about balance (remember that computer ejector seat I joked about?).  Meanwhile, it helps to laugh, right?  Some classic Roseanne Roseannadana (below) works for me.

Have a good week, all.  But wait—I almost forgot the point—posting may be light for the rest of this month due to the aforementioned cleaning/decluttering and giving the peepers a break.  I might pop in here or there, maybe show you what I'm getting rid of, progress pics, or if I have something more profound to share.  

How about you?  Does fall give you the urge to clear out?  Anything in particular ticking you off lately? 

Was It Something I Said?

Dudes...ladies...especially ladies.  As if being 50-something isn't already hard enough, what with hormonal changes and all the weirdness that comes with it.  Now come to find out there's more shit that can happen.

Like Burning Mouth Syndrome, which my doctor just diagnosed me with today.

Maybe it was all those naughty words.  Karma's a...well, you know.

I mean, we've all burned our tongues, right?  Which is what I thought a dozen or so days ago, though I could not remember a specific incident.  And it's an annoying feeling, but a burnt tongue heals and it goes away.  Except when it doesn't.  Then it continues to be annoying.  Like, possibly forever annoying.

What causes it?  Get this: Nobody knows for sure.  Could be stress (check).  Menopause or perimenopause (check).  Being female (check).  Anxiety or depression (I didn't think so, but maybe I'm in denial). 

So the pamphlet I brought home says, "One-half to two-thirds of patients will experience at least a partial improvement in symptoms within SIX to SEVEN YEARS [emphasis mine] after symptoms began.  A SMALL NUMBER will return to normal with no residual burning.  [For the others] symptoms tend to remain at about the same intensity."

I hope I'm among the "small number."  In the meantime, it's a good thing I've always liked spicy stuff, because it feels like a never-ending jalapeno pepper up in there. 

I'm going to hit it with everything that may help—extra B vitamins, alpha lipoic acid, baking soda rinses and/or Tabasco sauce rinses (I kid you not, it's on my sheet here).  Everything short of prescription pharmaceuticals, because I just don't want to go down that road if I can help it, and they are only sometimes effective plus have side effects.

Okay, so...end of rant.  On a positive note, before the week got busy work-wise, I went thrift store browsing and found the cutest little vintage covered sugar bowl.

It's from the Horizons line by Steubenville, though I can't find the name of this particular design.  Farm scene?  Anyway, it's a mid-century piece, probably from the 1950s.

I love the colors.  I thought about pretty pinks and greens in my fabric stash. 

One thing led to another and pretty soon I was making a mini.  I got as far as piecing the front and back and sandwiching it. Then I got slammed with work, so I don't know when I'll get back to quilting and finishing it.  I decided not to wait until that day, though, to show you.

The doc's parting words were, "Try to have some fun this weekend," a prescription I do hope to fill.

Heard this song on the radio recently, from John Mayer's newest album.  I like the laid back vibe.

Have a good one, all! 

Well, That Sucked

I was going to have a finish to show you today, but that had to be postponed.  

The phone rang yesterday afternoon.  Norm was calling.  He had fallen at work and was on his way to the local hospital for an x-ray.

He fell smack dab on his right hip, the one that was replaced three years ago.  It didn't feel right.

I was hoping for a bad bruise when I met up with him in the ER. Unfortunately, it was a fracture.

So he got a second ambulance ride to the big hospital where his replacement had originally been done.  Spent the night there.  They were going to do surgery first thing this morning, but then they decided to try him in a hip immobilizer instead.

It is quite the contraption.  He will be pretty immobile for a while, that's for sure.

But we are home tonight, so that is good.  He isn't in that bad of pain as long as he doesn't put weight on it, and he's not supposed to.  We dug out the crutches and walker.  Of course, we live in a two-story house with a closet-sized half bath on the main floor.  But we will manage.  We've done this before.

Prior to the fateful phone call, I enjoyed a lovely walk with my sister on Wednesday along the marsh.  Temps were in the upper 70s—very unusual for March weather in the Badger State, but I'll take it.

I'll be back tomorrow with that finish.