Friday, February 17, 2006


I got a little sleep. I was feeling a bit crazed and desperate last night while I was trying to sleep. Poor Fee, though - she was outside all night. It was positively balmy at 7pm...but this morning the temperature was 33. She is a Maine Coon, which is supposed to mean she's a mighty north-woods-forest-cat, so I don't feel too terribly guilty. She wasn't halfway to being a popsicle or anything. But I heard a desperate, high-pitched chirping at 5:30, and when I let her in she made a blue streak for the cat box.

Poor Fee.

I got mucho Olympic knitting done last night (but no picture, sadly, I didn't realize my own limits and when I finished knitting it was time to stop EVERYTHING for the night). I'm done with the foot, and I have begun to puzzle out the mystery of yet another short-row heel. I'm not sure about this wrapped-stitches thing. Doing the wraps really tight seems to prevent holes, but it just doesn't seem like the nicest and neatest method of doing a heel. I've done the backwards yarnover method as well, and that just seems to have more substance, although I always get confused with how to knit/purl them out.

A friend from when I was a kid, a little boy whose parents were friends with mine and who was always around, had a benign tumor removed from his spine when he was 10 or so. He grew up, got married, had a couple kids and then it came back and was causing him pain. Long story short, he died - apparently from a reaction to the pain medication. I remember running around with him and his brother and my sister, two crazy girls and two crazy blondheaded boys. I remember his dad taking us to the factory where he worked and giving us some plastic pellets, and how I learned to tell if something was plastic by the smell. I remember the day it snowed in Rocky Mountain National Park in August, and how the sky looked like a painting. I probably had a crush on his older brother, who was a couple years younger than me. I remember a family's log cabin somewhere near the park and a comfy dinner in that house followed by a harrowing ride home over hairpin turns and steep dropoffs. I remember his mom's sunglasses and his dad's smile and white t-shirts. I remember Dad and his dad drinking Coors together and laughing. We were always laughing.

Rest well, friend. I'm sorry you had to go.


Blogger Chris said...

I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. Particularly sad and frustrating when it's something that should be innocuous...

I'm glad you're feeling better!

7:38 AM  

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