I had an idea for an art piece made out of the disposable gowns I have to wear when I visit my grandmother in the hospital. I would shred them and use the resulting strips to weave a giant piece of fabric, possibly incorporating medical paperwork. Then I realized that I have to wear those gowns to prevent transmission of infectious disease. So, I'd have to use a lot of Lysol on it, or post a warning that no one with a compromised immune system could be in a gallery with it. I would also need a loom. Back to the drawing board.

Some days, I think that I should have just stayed in bed.
Today, I decided to take the El into the city to see my grandmother, who is still in the hospital. I could have driven, but I ran out of parking passes for the garage and didn't feel like paying their exorbitant rates. Mistake. I had to run to catch the train, but might as well have taken my time. Two stations later, the train went out of service due to a fire at the Logan Square station. The CTA's answer? Provide a shuttle to the Logan Square station. At the California station, the CTA peeps said that platforms would be headed towards the loop. Except, when the train showed up, it was headed to O'Hare and the conductor kept yelling at passengers who were just trying to ask where the train was headed. After plenty of shivering on the platform in the freezing rain, a southbound train finally arrived. It was packed. Despite all the standees, there was a man sitting Indian style across two of the seats. When an older woman admonished him for taking up two seats when so many people had to stand, he just stretched his legs out across the second seat. I hate everybody.
My grandmother's nurse proudly told me that she's doing much better. She stood up today, briefly, which is not a big deal for most of us, but incredibly hard when you've been bedridden for a month. Her appetite hasn't improved, though, which is incredibly frustrating. She has to get her strength up to get out of the hospital and that requires eating. Last time, I took her pad thai. This time, I made her rice pudding, which I normally only make for xmas. The nurses were very encouraging, saying that she needs all the extra nutrition she can get. Well, she only ate two bites. I suggested. I cajoled. I hovered and handed her things. She even told me that I am the only member of the family more stubborn that she (a dubious achievement that I attribute to my Norwegian ancestors). I don't know what to do, other than keeping at it. As hard and frustrating as it is for me, I am sure that it is worse for her.

FML

Warning knitters: this is a sad tale.
After I remodeled the house, it became overrun with wool eating bugs. Almost all of my socks and more than a few of my hats and sweaters were quietly destroyed by munching insects, while I was blissfully unaware. As a result, I have only a few pairs of socks left.
Saturday, I worked a twelve hour call at the museum. It was real stagehand work, as opposed to my usual cushy A1 work, so I wore my Doc Marten boots and one of my few remaining pairs of socks. After many hours of gigging it, I was quite tempted to just sleep on top of the covers with my boots on. Instead, I took them off and discovered something horrific. There must have been a weak spot in the right sock that I hadn't noticed when I put it on, because hours of rubbing against the very structured toe of my shitkickers made a hole large enough for my first three toes to stick out. GAH!
I've decided to temporarily put my other projects on hold so that I can replenish my sock supply. So, if you were hoping for a knitted gift for xmas, it's not going to happen. Honestly, I'd already decided to cut back my xmas knitting because I felt a lot of it was unappreciated. I practically crippled myself last year trying to finish things at the last minute. This year, it's drawings of spiders for everyone!

La Douleur Exquise!

 

What used to cause me pleasure now causes me pain.  Too many times, I have pinned my hopes on the wrong thing. Or pinned all of them on one thing, setting myself up for heartbreaking disappointment. I have to stop living in a privately defined world and start living again. If only I could feel as light as those umbrellas, to take long strides across the world, and feel unafraid!