Most of another month (and a birthday!) have limped by me. Finished and submitted my (ghastly) painting but I had a lot of fun doing it.
My DIL presented me with an eight pound, thirteen ounce grandson, Evan Alexander. He looks like his father.
We made a trip up and back a week ago to meet him and bring home my DD who had gone up to babysit her niece during labour and delivery just after acquiring a new immediate family member herself.
“Ulster” is a now five month old bundle of wriggling chocolate Lab who is learning to avoid sheep, not chase chickens and respect the cat. He’s a dog’s dawg who loves his pond, our lake, our dogs . . . pretty much everybody except – it is to be hoped – raccoons, foxes and other predators.
I have an appointment with the internist in late August when he is hopng to see some weight loss. Oooops! The chemical stress test revealed “some angina” which does not yet require medication. Good!?
I’d apparently been developing a urinary tract infection which went ballistic the day before my birthday which I then spent at the local clinic. My reliable recuer, the doctor there, an old school Scot who concocted the magic salve that cleared up a nasty, runaway case of infected eczema last year, once again put me out of my misery which was apparently complicated by some sort of spasms you don’t want to know about. Trust me!
So far I can say that the upside of turning sixty-two is that it’s been improving daily. I see my GP Tuesday when he can decide whther or not to extend my antibiotics and the other interesting drug that relieves the pain but turns things bright orange. Both these mads carry headaches as a likely side effect so I can stop worrying I’ve developed a brain tumour coincidentally (I hope).
My SIL’s grandmother died early last Wednesday morning, a blessing for all concerned including herself. We visited the family Friday night. She was well into her nineties, lucid to the last but suffering a great deal of pain for an extended period. She had ultimately requested the withdrawal of all meds and proceeded to die as she lived, a lady of the old school. She was a fashion model in Wales in her youth and I enjoyed seeing the photos from the thirties. Her daughter and granddaughter look just like her. There are blackmail-worthy shots of the SIL in a cute, smocked dress!
I was reunited with an old friend at the visitation. He married into the SIL’s family but I always forget to expect to see him there as I’ve known him for centuries. Probably met him first at one of the ex’s high school reunions. Hadn’t realized that I hadn’t talked with him since moving to the farm so there was some catching up to do. He and his wife spent two years motoring to Venezuela and back on their boat in the interval where he dived into an active volcano. He’s an interesting guy!
I have to psych myself up to finish a longstanding project, an art quilt based on The Wizard of Oz. I want to submit it to the gallery at their next change up at the end of August and bring home several works that are getting stale and “shopworn” (at least to my way of thinking). Given the tanking economy, I guess there may have been better times to open a co-op gallery in a small city but it had such promise. I re-upped for another year and we’ll see how it goes. OZ is so close to finished, it’s ridiculous. I will set a deadline for just after the SO’s family visits the first week of August and then plunge back into it.
Friends were out from Windsor Thursday and the weather co-operated. They had the tour of DD’s small scale farming operation and we sat on the patio, totally relaxed. They even gave Rexie a much needed run on the beach. Charley got to go later when DD brought Ulster over for a romp and roll. Kind of made up for leaving everybody for extended periods Friday and Saturday whe we went to a barbecue at a friend’s in Kingsville, a rare venture into quasi-normal society.
I have no specific ambitions for today. In fact, I intend to do as close to nothing as humanly possible. I’ve set aside most knitting for a spell, with the exception of the second sock of a pair that I pick up from time to time. It would go quickly if I could force myself past the ribbing. Instead I have been cross stitching large quilt squares for a long term project, finding the primarily mindless stitching quite relaxing (and less sweaty than a lapful of wool).
I will close with eye candy, a recent candid of the cutest little girl anywhere, my two-year-old granddaughter.
