I feel like I've lost 8 weeks of life and work and it's bugging me in the selfish, spoiled brat kind of way. Call me five years old, foot stomping, rampaging, I need space, I need to work, I need to create, give me time, give me space, I want to run away from home to a cabin in the woods and just write and swatch for weeks, me, me, me kind of way. I called my father and demanded to know what he was thinking by having only one child with my mother and then divorcing leaving me holding the proverbial bag. I demanded to know where my full siblings were. My sisters have full siblings. Where are mine? "CONFESS!", I begged. He denied that there are any. I think he's protecting them. He suggested I find a body double to take the bullets for me so I can get some work done. Then I tried to give my mother away on Facebook. No takers. Wimps. Baugh! Maybe eBay...or reverse eBay - I will pay the high bidder...
Yesterday I unplugged or shut off all telephones and prepared to work aggressively all day. I began early by bathing and grooming the dog (saved $40, but...well..let's just say I need practice...). Next I sorted some minor sample knitter issues. I then prepared to aggressively write, and just as I opened the document titled "Book2" the dogs went nuts, the front door began to open, and a face appeared in my doorway. I forgot Donna was coming to visit. I love Donna. But today the door is locked.
There's not a small amount of guilt here. "What if". What if the mother falls, strokes, truly needs me. What if. What if, what if, what if. But I have a deadline and what if won't get my work done, it can only get in my way. So I shove it aside, and I pray that she won't fall or stroke, and that I am only avoiding calls about the VCR not working or the apartment being too hot or the lack of orange juice at the facility (They have orange juice. It's just not the right kind. It needs to be Tropicana Pure Premium Original, apparently).
This past weekend was much fun. I taught Knit Different at Webs on Saturday and had a blast doing it. I corrupted...er...converted members of the class to Eastern Uncrossed/Combination. This is my life's work...well, really my life's work is about teaching knitters to read their knitting, and stitch mount is a huge part of that. The added benefits of Combination knitting just make it easier. On Sunday we went shopping for a big pot for my kumquat tree which I've managed to not kill yet, although it was touch and go for a while there. It has some fruits,about five so far, and three tiny blossoms, which smell so amazing. Sorry the pics are not great. I was saving for a macro lens, but I splurged on Tropicana Pure Premium Original and Depends instead. Priorities, and all that.
We spent a fair amount of time photographing Dazee for the AKC. She hates being photographed. She's a pet shop puppy mill dog.She came with registration in the United Friends of Sunnydale Kennel Club or something equally useless for competition in Rally Obedience with the AKC. The AKC allows for registration of pet dogs, spayed or neutered, that display characteristics of their alleged breed. We've got to prove she's a Peke, even though she looks a lot like a Tibbie with a too-flat nose. She does, I must say, look like a historic Peke, before they overbred them for strange things, like that crazy coat. You've seen them if you watch dog shows. Carried in by their handlers on a pillow? Can barely make it around the ring? That's not a dog. Dazee is a dog. I am debating letting her coat grow out, although her Other Mother disapproves. She's got her Tropicana. She can deal.
I made a pile of yarn for Girl. Seems she's been reduced to knitting with highlighters and handspun...no needles. I am sending out her Denise needles and some yarn. Nothing fancy, except the silk, since the PO lost the last package I sent - the one with her surprise and her gauntlets and the hat for her roommate? The roommate who's birthday is today?? Not loving the PO this week. We're tracking it.
Back to work now. But which work...book or Chicken Socks for Tina that are burning a hole in my brain?? Which reminds me I need some Louet in colors we don't have at the store. I need to email them...there's another pair of socks burning a hole in the other side of my brain, for the book, and I can't find the right gold anywhere but Louet's website. Oh!! Thank God. Designs are burning in my brain. Things are looking up!!
Wait a second. How is this spoiled? For crying out loud, this house? It's my OFFICE. This is my workspace. How is it spoiled to demand that people not call me at work??