Undoing.

The bike sock is now around the heel of sock two: wanting to make progress on it is what got me on the bike last night, so that was a good thing. Usually, the knitting is what enables me to stand riding the bike, but if it sometimes gets me on the bike in the first place, that's great too.

Also last night, I pulled out the new sock to work on, and noticed that a few rows back, I messed something up. It could be fixed, but the fact of it made me face what I've been thinking, which is that I may need to use this yarn in a different pattern.

Don't get me wrong, I love the pattern! But the yarn is a heavier weight than what I usually use for socks, which means I won't be able to go by my usual height for the leg without running out somewhere on the foot. I think it would be better if I used this yarn in a toe-up pattern, so I can go as far as the yarn allows without worrying about it, and use the pattern for a yarn I have more of. I didn't rip it last night, but I think I will.

And speaking of reluctantly undoing, I'm returning George. Yeah, I know, it may sound sudden, but I've been thinking about it, or at least, I've been thinking, "I don't want to return him, but." Like with the sock, it's been a reluctance to face it, followed by a seemingly sudden decision. I'm so sorry to give up on him (another failure), but Carlos is just not warming up to him, George is clearly unable to hold back on the in-your-face exuberance, and neither of them is to blame for being who he is, but I can't leave them alone for over a week the way they are now. Nor do I have the confidence that in two weeks, they will have progressed enough.

It's sad to think about, but still I don't think it's the wrong decision. I have to put Carlos ahead of George. The way Carlos edges around these days, looking to see if the coast is clear, huddling in corners, breaks my heart.
He deserves better. And hopefully the rescue people can find a place that suits George better.

I hope. Poor George.

More Grouchy Drivel

It doesn't really make sense that today I was okay, and tonight I'm a hot mass of emotion who just declared to no one that "Nothing is working right now, nothing is working at all." Not that there's a lot of sense in my emotions lately. Believe me, I've noticed.

I don't think the weather is helping, though. Do you remember this picture from a month ago?

I happened to look outside today, and see how much has melted?

In a month. A MONTH. It hasn't melted in a month. It's MARCH, and it's so cold today that I had to close the window I can almost always leave open a crack for Carlos; it was just blowing in too cold. In like an iceberg means out like a what?

Just over two weeks until I leave for Florida, and I can't wait, but I'm also stressing about the cats. Will there be enough progress in two weeks so I can leave them together and not stress about it the whole time? I had to put George in solitary for a while earlier, and Carlos came and sat with me, and it was so nice, but so sad that it's nice because it's rare and what have I done to him.

Shit. Trying to pull myself together. Perhaps I should eat something. Perhaps the Bruins will win. Perhaps whatever is making tonight hard will pass. At least I worked from home, that was nice. And warm.

Yeah. A *Great* Day. (Warning: feeling parenthetical)

I got in to work today to find an e-mail my boss sent last night about the next report I'll be working on, followed three minutes later by another e-mail from her with the subject line "PLEASE IGNORE MY LAST E-MAIL" because she had told me to do the wrong report. (I wasn't going to start it until tomorrow anyway, but still.) This was followed by a message about the actual report I should do next, for real, and then by another letting the managers involved know I'll be starting it tomorrow. And that was followed by a response to her from one of those managers, a person I actually respect (usually), saying to her, "Thanks for your flexibility."

HER flexibility? Way to throw salt in my wounds, dude.

When she came in, we had a discussion about how it's the cold in the office that most makes me want to work from home. See, yesterday via e-mail, we touched on my working from home more often, which she says she's fine with but that I should ask her boss about (because ... why exactly? I could see if she wanted to discuss it with her boss, but me?) and she wrapped up with the maddening statement,

"I don’t think you should work at home full-time, like [the other editor].  The only reason we allowed this is because she has such a nasty commute." 

Because that's totally fair and reasonable. They hired the other editor knowing where she lives and what the commute would be, but she can't be expected to come in and I am. I kind of want to say to my boss, in a gentle, sympathetic tone, "I guess you don't realize how ridiculous that sounds."

(Or would "absurd" be better than ridiculous?)

(I wonder how far away I'd have to move before it counted?)

Anyway, she reached out again to the guy who talks to the people* at the office park about the temperature, and the office park people sent over a guy who assured us that the heating systems are working fine, so I guess we're just imagining being cold. I must be imagining that I was wearing three times the clothing I did at home yesterday, too. He added that it might feel cooler by the window, but after all, soon it will be getting warmer out! (Really, he was almost as good as the guy who showed up about the mouse, a month after we reported it.)
*We're like the Cabots and the Lodges over here. (old Boston joke)

So, let me sum up: I'm not really cold, I just think I am, and also I should just wait a month or two or three not to be so cold at my desk...? With that and the snow flurries* coming down outside said window, I kind of wanted to cry. Or bang my head on the desk. If only my fury and frustration warmed me.
*It didn't amount to much, it's just so demoralizing.

And after work, I got to go to a condo meeting. Because that's guaranteed to cheer me up.

(It actually wasn't bad. We may be paying a bit extra toward the snow removal, since there's been so much of that, but we'll see. And apparently they're working out the problem with the water bill, the "Water bill? What water bill? Oh, that water bill!" issue that was discovered recently. Yeah, owning is joyful. As much as being a grown-up generally is.)

I think I'll go knit.

Working, With Cats

As a person with cats, I used to wonder whether working from home would be like this:

But this has not proven to be the case. Sure, the cats can be interested in what I'm doing, and how they can help, but generally when nap attacks strike, they are to be found on the bed or couch. As usual.

Mind you, there are moments of excitement, if by excitement you understand that I mean Carlos ventures out of the bedroom and George leaps upon him. George clearly understands my tone when I warn him not to, as I say his name or "no" or "be good"--he just doesn't want to pass up the fun.

I realized today what he reminds me of, as he listens to me, holds back briefly, then jumps in. Remember that song by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince (Will Smith as was), the '80s classic "Parents Just Don't Understand"? He's singing about borrowing his parents' Porsche while they're off on vacation, and,

Well, maybe I shouldn't
Yeah, of course I should

That's George: she doesn't want me to, hmm, I guess I won't, oh but come on, it's fun, PLAY!

Anyway, it sure was nice to be warm enough to concentrate.

Let's See: No Snow, Much Cold, Cats, Knitting. But Not Cats Knitting

The good news is that the expected storm shifted away from us and I saw no snow yesterday or today; I can't be sorry about that. I will admit, however, that I had been looking forward to working from home today, and not being freezing cold all day, so going in made me crabby. To have to wear two shirts, two jackets (with the fleece zipped up to the chin, and collar turned up to break the breeze over my ears, honest to god, before I gave up and put on my hat), long johns, and both wrist-warmers and fingerless gloves, while sitting in front of a space heater... I'm working from home tomorrow, I told my boss, and she was fine with it. Fortunately.

It didn't help that I was so tired. It simply isn't practicable for me to go to sleep at 8 every night, but I wonder how much of a difference an extra two hours of sleep a night would make? I had a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night, anyway; it was hard to switch my mind off, between blogging about depression and another George episode.

I don't know about George. He can be sweet and he can be a demon. I get that he and Carlos need to make peace between themselves, and when I'm home I try not to step in and "rescue" Carlos all the time, but honestly, Carlos can barely come out of the bedroom without getting jumped, and sometimes he doesn't even have to step out of the bedroom. I get that George wants to play, but Carlos will hiss or growl when George charges at him, and George doesn't seem to recognize what that means, and of course when Carlos runs, George follows. I know that it's natural, but hey, so is poison ivy, or lions killing gazelles. Natural isn't always good.

And that's not even getting into when George turns on me. I can understand that if I pick him up to get him away from Carlos, he doesn't want to, so he'll try to bite. But last night, he was winding around my legs, seeming sweet, and then decided to attack them instead, and what the hell? Then this morning, when I let him out of the office, I got back in bed, and he decided that he had to attack my foot, which wasn't even moving, but he apparently felt it was taunting him through the blanket, or something. Or last night, when he sniffed at his water bowl and then turned away from it, so I thought maybe he wanted fresh water, cats can be funny that way. I brought him fresh water, and he sniffed it and then tried to turn the bowl over. What the hell?

I don't know what he's thinking, obviously, and I know the whole depression thing is a factor in how I'm dealing, or not dealing, but he's not making things easier. I don't want to give up too soon, I'd hate to give him back, but is it going to work? Can I leave them alone together for over a week, other than the pet sitter coming in, and not damage Carlos by it? I feel so bad for him, my baby. When I do shut George away, Carlos walks around warily for a while, looking around corners, then is so pathetically happy to curl up with me, and purr, and have his ears scratched. Sigh. One day at a time, right?

*****
I made some progress this weekend on the knitted duck feet booties, but not as much as I'd hoped to. I'm at another very fiddly part, and with my threshold for frustration being so low right now, I put them aside when I started getting wound up by them, and picked up something else for the sake of my sanity. In fact, I finished the current purse sock, and cast on the second one, but I also cast on a new sock. See? Crappy-lighting-picture?

I wound up this yarn, some Happy Feet I got when Windsor Button Shop was closing, in super-spring-greens-and-yellows, and started the Down the Rabbit-Hole pattern in them. I like the ribbing, it's nothing complicated, but instead of a K1P1, you knit through the back, which gives a nice little twist to it. Then the pattern is a simple one with a traveling line, easy to see where I am. I just got a pair of Karbonz needles to try--ooh, carbon fiber!--and was ready for some more color. Not that I don't like the cornflower blue of the purse socks, but ... well, I'm not a monogamous knitter, and there's nothing wrong with that.

*****
It wasn't a completely non-productive weekend, even aside from knitting. I ran the dishwasher and emptied it, and hand-washed a bunch of dishes. I also dirtied more, making up a comforting batch of chicken-and-stuffing. I did a bunch of laundry, and put away the delicates after they hung to dry. I went to the library and Wilson's, put gas in the car, had dinner with friends.

I also watched the Bruins, who almost completely sucked Saturday afternoon, then kind-of sucked but pulled themselves together Sunday night. They're finding re-entry after the Olympics a rough ride, but hopefully it will get better. Soon.

Along with the new needles, I got a replacement for the laser pointer*, since the little one I got as a cat toy was small, cheap, hard on my hands, and died pretty quickly. I got this one, which is much easier on my hands, the button can be pressed for more than a second without denting my finger, the light doesn't flicker, it takes a standard AAA battery, and goodness, but the cats go bats for it. Like, I don't want to use it late at night because the noise of the thundering herd could disturb the neighbors. I also have to be careful not to send George at Carlos in pursuit of the red dot, but I've played with Carlos when George is in solitary, and he likes it too.
*Also a book and more magnesium powder; I like to shop locally, but sometimes Amazon just wins.

*****
Why is it that the holiday calendar on my Google calendar tells me when Thomas Jefferson's birthday is, but not St. Patrick's Day? I mean, I know when it is ... but I know when Christmas and the 4th of July are, too, and it lists those. Weird.

*****
Theoretically, spring will come, and the weather will get warmer. I certainly want to believe it will happen. Despite the fact that, according to the weather man, the temps, in the 20s this week, are 20 degrees below average for the time of year. (Isn't that awesome to know? Sooo helpful, not.) And when it warms up, assuming it does, we'll see how my mood reacts. For that matter, whether it's warmer or not, we spring forward this weekend, which will add an hour of daylight, and maybe that will help.

Serious Thoughts, For Once

I've been trying to put my mood into coherent words for a while, and this is the best I can do. I'm just closing my eyes and swallowing hard and throwing it up here. I'm not sure how coherent it actually is, but that's probably to be expected.

I know I've been an uncheery blogger recently; I hope it hasn't been too much like reading The Yellow Wallpaper, an amazing story but not exactly fun. Remember this, though: blogging is like an iceberg, there's more underneath than ever shows up on the surface. I'm not even letting the worst out here. I've really been struggling. To paraphrase my brother, you can go along doing okay, but you stub your toe and it's The End of the World. My best, lately, is only minimally functional. Some days are better than others, or at least some are worse; one morning, I was getting ready for work and found myself saying, "I honestly don't know how I am going to get through this day." I did, of course, and the next day wasn't as bad, but it's all been much harder than usual, and quite often normally I don't find life easy, all the things to get done, never enough time or energy to do them. Then you add this winter...

The brain is a strange thing. In others, I don't think that depression is weakness, but at the same time I want to be stronger. Depression is a brain chemistry thing, like migraines are. It doesn't happen to you because you're weak or strong. It just is. I believe* that, but it bothers me that I can't shake this off, can't be comforted by truths like "Spring is almost here," can't laugh when someone jokes that "It stopped snowing, I know that you're sorry about that."
*Interestingly, typing "believe" wrong means that spell-check offered me the right spelling or, alternately, Bellevue. Nice.

Anyway. I'm thinking pretty seriously about moving to Florida. Not right away, not this year, but making that the goal in a year or two. I may not have diagnosed depression, but when the mere fact of winter makes every day such a slog, when every year is harder, it seems like a sign that I just can't take winter here any more. (And I'm a little young to be a snowbird, don't you think? Given that I'll probably never be able to afford to retire at all, I don't see how I could afford to just winter there.) So, in a drastic simplification of my options:

1. Stay here, and treat the depression. Which probably means medication, since I've been trying all sorts of non-pharmaceutical ways to raise my mood and it isn't enough. And medicating depression is, I gather, a lot like medicating migraines, which was pretty miserable: try this drug and that one, this dose and that, experience this side effect or that. Oh, that's worse, now you can't get out of bed? Interesting. Let's try this. And with seasonal effects on symptoms, how long would it take to figure out? In other words: how many years must I be miserable for a third of the year?
2. Move to somewhere warmer, i.e., Florida. Moving is a royal pain in the ass. I'd have to sell my condo. Find a job there. It's tons of work. But if I could snap my fingers and have it be done? I would, honestly. Today. I'd miss my friends, and a lot of things about living here, but I'd move in a minute not to feel like this.

Finally Friday, with a Paean to Bergeron

What a week! I need about 8 days of weekend to recover. I'll be getting right on that, but here's something for you to consider in the interim.

Lest you think I am alone in my love of Patrice Bergeron, know that I am not, and check out this magnificent summary (which you can see bigger at the original location, if anyone but me wants to read it):

Sigh. What a nice guy.

Untangling and Unraveling

I am still working on unraveling the yarn that George played with so thoroughly.

I am also untangling my thoughts on this malaise/depression/SAD/whatever patch that I'm in.

I am utterly tired, either as a cause or an effect of the above, so I'm going to bed early.

Tomorrow is finally Friday.

FINALLY.

How I Feel About George at this Moment

I was trying to untangle a skein of yarn that George had got hold of last night and spread around half the living room.

He came into the room and used the litter box, scratching and scratching and scratching, and leaving (unsurprisingly) a ripe odor behind.

I decided (unsurprisingly) that it was to clean the box, and after I did, Carlos came along to use it. Fortunately, just after Carlos finished, George came along leaping at him.

I decided to put the yarn aside, as I was getting too annoyed to get anywhere with it. I went into the other room, and discovered when I went to answer the ringing phone that George had pulled the phone behind the bookcase, and I had to move the exercise bike to pull it out again.

After I answered the phone. Which was a telemarketer. Despite the fact that I'm on the do not call list.

The Bruins had better play well tonight. That's all I'm saying.

PS Before I even hit post, he's knocking something over in the other room. He gets into EVERYTHING, and right now I am just in no mood. Deep breaths. And ice cream.

Looking Ahead, and Looking Ahead Knitting-Style

Well, it's still the winter blahs in full force around here--good news, tomorrow's snow should only be a dusting! and Thursday's, too! isn't that great? Monday's may be "plowable" amounts, but it's too soon to be sure--but I booked my flights to Florida for my working vacation tonight, so there's something to make me smile.

And while I have to wait a few weeks for it, that gives the cats more time to adjust; looking at George right now, all peaceful on the couch, you wouldn't believe that earlier this evening he mugged Carlos as the latter was trying to use the litter box, good lord cat have some BOUNDARIES already. Not to mention that if he is HISSING and GROWLING at you, it means back off. Idiot.

But it hasn't been a month yet, and in another month they should be even better able to coexist. They kind of do now, I'm leaving them out together during the day while I'm at work, and not coming home to chaos, but man, George has his moments, the kind that get him shut back into the office, on a regular basis. Every night so far, he's gotten crazy enough to get put away; maybe, like Carlos when he was new here, he kind of wants the down time.

Sigh. Winter blahs. Full force. Let's talk about knitting, shall we?

I've started thinking about what to knit for my friend who got engaged recently. They haven't announced a date yet, but I need time to work on it, so starting soon isn't a bad idea. I'm thinking:

• a blanket, since that's a good gift for two people
• Irish/Celtic design, since she's very (very, very) into that
• natural-color yarn (like your typical fisherman's sweater)
• machine wash (because it's easier, especially with a blanket)

The pattern? I keep looking and deciding and changing my mind. And of course, I can't select the yarn before the pattern, so I have to decide on that first. I must have flagged a dozen patterns on Ravelry:

• this one! 
• No, this!
• Or perhaps this, but with the center from that one! 

Lord. Indecision. Suggestions? Preferences?

Finally, in non-knitting, watch this heartwarming video.

Now tell me, do you think every hospital allows volunteers to cuddle babies? Because I would so be on board with that.

Popping in to Say, No Miracle Cure

Yup, still winter blahs here.

And it's Monday.

I did have fun at stitch and bitch tonight; we had a big turnout, and a waitress that hated us for some reason (make that no reason), but never mind that. Now I'm going to spend some time with the cats before it's bedtime. Because you know that will be here in a flash.

Cats and Overwhelmedness, and Yarn

I've had a slightly headache-y weekend, not terrible but definitely impairing my mood, as well as my ability to get things done and to deal with things as they happen. A low point, for instance, was when the tech support guy said he was open to suggestions about how to fix my problem ... like that wasn't what I was calling him for. If I knew how to fix it, I wouldn't have called! I don't know, I've just been questioning my ability to be the one in charge. There isn't anyone else here to do it, but shouldn't there be? I can't be the adult. I was just thinking about Batman...

I suppose I should try to formulate the question I was going to put to you about the cats. Not about how to get them to get along (answer: wait) or how to get George to let me trim his claws (answer: damned if I know, the boy doesn't want it done and he is strong), it's about food and water dishes, and George's propensity for overturning them. Anyone experienced this?

It started when he was still in the office all the time, and I had his food and water dishes on a tray there. I had to put a towel under them because he kept spilling the water, and I kept having to pick up the food because he was tipping that bowl around, too. I was giving him dry food, as the shelter people said that was what he'd been used to, but once he was let out of the office, I started giving him wet food, too, and I put some dry food down for Carlos (who has had wet-only for a few years now) as long as it was in the house (he's delighted). George likes the wet stuff, and only once in a while is he eating any of the dry, but he will often come along and try to overturn the bowls, scraping as though he's covering something in the litter box. I thought at first it was some holdover after he left the box, but he does it other times, too, and the other night I cleaned up the food he'd spilled and five minutes later he was doing it again. 

I have to keep towels under the water bowls, and I'm sick of picking up crunchies, and why is he doing this? I can't figure him out. Like I don't have enough messes to clean up!

Anyway. I have some duck feet to knit. Here's the first one, in progress.

So far, so good!

But I have a ways to go.

And more to look forward to!

It was a yarn sale...

Good Anticipation, and a Question Postponed

You know how I love to have something good to look forward to? Well, I had a light-bulb moment this morning that led somewhere good for that.

Recently, my mother asked if I thought I could get down there for a quick visit (for my own sake, to get out of this endless winter)(seriously, I go to Florida for a mid-winter pick-me-up during that mild winter two years ago and don't plan a trip this year, how does this happen), and I said regretfully that I didn't see how, partly from the cats, who were still in first-fortnight-drama, and partly because we're busy at work. The cats are doing better every day, which is good, though they're not quite there, but there's still work, we've got about five reports waiting ... and then this morning, driving in, I thought: laptop. Laptop! I can work from anywhere with wi-fi. And in a few weeks, the cats should be in even better shape...

So I asked my boss today, and she had me run it by her boss, and, well, I have to schedule around some immovable calendar events, but how does a week in Florida in March sound?* A working vacation is still something of a vacation! And did I ever need something to look forward to, amid the snow and ice and slush and general blech of February.
*The correct answer is that it sounds fan-fucking-tastic, by the way.

I was going to posit a cat-related question or two to your collective wisdoms, but I suddenly hit the Wall of Tired*, and can't find the coherent (it was just here), so I think that will wait until tomorrow. When I will also show you how the first duck bootie is coming along, and possibly flash some stash enhancement. Fun times--and the sun is supposed to shine! Now there's something a little sooner to look forward to. I hope you, too, have something good coming your way.
*I just double-checked to make sure I didn't type "car-related"!

Cough Update, then cat pix and off to knit

The cough is a lot better.

It is! It isn't gone completely, but the syrup helped me sleep last night without a cough drop, mirabile dictu, and for a further wonder the pill he gave me is also helping. Did you know there was a pill for a cough? I didn't; it continues to surprise me, all the things I don't know. It's called Tessalon, which I can only assume means that after it cures the cough, it will impart the ability to tesser, something I've wanted to do since I first read A Wrinkle in Time. Won't that be handy? Almost as good as not coughing, after almost two months of it.

Anyway, according to its Wikipedia page, "Benzonatate is a non-narcotic oral cough suppressant, or antitussive, with effects that last from 6 to 8 hours. Its formal name is 2,5,8,11,14,17,20,23,26-nonaoxaoctacosan-28-yl para-butylaminobenzoate." Aren't you glad we don't have to use its formal name? Let's be honest, I'm not even going to call it Tessalon or Benzonatate, but just the cough pill. Now you'll know what I mean.

Now, I have to get to knitting and biking (both separately and together). I want to get the biking back into a daily habit, which is a bit of a struggle still, and I want to get that first baby duck foot done, and get to the second. The baby's here! Deadline approaches! Let me leave you with these, for your amusement.

There!

Fully Random Bullets

It's only 8, but I'm bleary. Bullets it is!

• I finally called the doctor and went in today for the cough. He gave me a couple of things to try: a pill which may help, an inhaler to try if it doesn't, and the codeinated cough syrup for nights. We'll see!
• This morning at work, my document again had the same problem I had yesterday (and, since I was in the office, I could not yell curses aloud, which was frustrating). These templates. Why the company doesn't care that we waste so much time on these issues puzzles me exceedingly.
• I left George and Carlos together today (they've been left together, but not for an entire day), and Carlos seemed all right when I got home. Of course, I had to put George in for some quiet time shortly after I got in, when he tried to bite me while I was checking on Carlos; I'm not sure if it was a protest at not getting all the attention, or a notification that he had finished the food I put down for him, but an hour apart lets us both calm down. And in fact, I needed that hour to do some work, as I left early to go to the doctor.
• The "light rain" forecast for this afternoon was big, fluffy, wet snowflakes instead. I had to clear half an inch off my car, and the roads were slushy and slippery. Enough! (It's supposed to be 40 tomorrow and 50 on Friday, but I've had it with the "supposed to" shit.) I could hardly stand to look out the window.
• In Olympic hockey news, the Russian men were eliminated today, which is going to lead to a lot of hand-wringing. Go, Tuukka! The Finns advanced; as many a headline punned, the Russians were Finn-ished. 
• There was almost a bigger upset, though, as eleventh-ranked Latvia took Canada (that is, the defending gold medalists) to the very last minute. Canada won 2-1, but I swear I could hear the whole country, our neighbors to the north, not breathing for a few hours there. Latvia? Almost knocked out CANADA? Canada out-shot them 57-15 and barely won. I was watching a live summary online which include some Twitter stuff, and I noticed and was amused by a few from someone I'm not familiar with, Bruce Arthur (who is a "National Post sports columnist" apparently). Such as "Power play for Canada with 8:51 left, in a game in which they are tied with Latvia at the Olympics. These sentences are so weird to type" and "Wikipedia says Latvia has 4,271 registered hockey players. Canada has that many hockey ANALYSTS."
• The US, meanwhile, defeated the Czechs 5-2, and it sounds like it wasn't as close as I thought it would be, but it's no Latvia. Krejci joins Chara on the "Bruins done at the Olympics" list; Patrice, Loui, and Tuukka play on.
• The men play for position on Friday, then for medals over the weekend. The women, meanwhile, play their medal games tomorrow. Will the US win gold or silver (women), gold or silver or bronze or nothing (men)? Stay tuned.
• My blog got an e-mail about an "advert" opportunity for some compensated posts about an online casino, which would be "Tailored to fit in with your site and audience." How exactly do you think I could tailor such content for the tone of the blather I generally produce?
• The duck feet knitting proceeded well last night. Still not overconfident.
• Last, but certainly not least: Over the last couple of years, I've tracked when I get headaches, and also specifically when I get the terrible ones. In the last 2+ years, I've sometimes gone 5 or 6 weeks between the awful ones, but no more. It's now 17 weeks and counting since I've had an awful one. Break out the balloons and confetti!

Winter, Cats, Duck Feet

So I worked from home today, while it snowed.

This snow is not to be confused with the snow last Thursday/Friday, during which I also worked from home, or the snow Saturday, which of course did not interfere with work, as well as the snow the Wednesday/Thursday before, and then the snow before that, two storms in two successive weeks I think, that made me beg them to give me a laptop, and there may have been some more in there that I'm forgetting; it's blurring together at this point. In other words, global warming can come any time.*
*I know, I know, but they need to stop calling it that. Just say "climate change" and it won't tick me off so much.

George continues to have his ups and downs, with Carlos as well as with me. After I was done working, I sat on the couch and he marched onto my lap, draped himself along my arm, put his head against my bicep, and fell asleep. I looked at him and marveled that this was the same cat who came chirping up to me this morning, rubbing against my legs, then grabbed my leg and bit it. He's Jekyll and Hyde, this one.

As for Carlos, he still isn't a fan, but at times he is surprisingly accepting of his fate. This was yesterday:

That Cat is in His Window, and all it elicits is the Ears of Annoyance. Not bad.

It was probably a good thing that I worked from home today, as I opened the file I saved from Friday to find that something had gone wrong with it, as things often do with their stupid worm-ridden templated documents. All the section numbers had vanished, plus in at least one section, the bullet points had been replaced by strings of Chinese* characters. I was able to let the violent language out, which was sort of satisfying. Then I spent half the morning trying to figure out what corrections I had made on Friday that needed to be copied into Thursday's saved version (because yes, this happens often enough that I rename a copy of the file very day, so I won't lose more than a day's work). That felt useful and productive. It was a great day. /sarcasm.
*Or some Asian alphabet, I don't know for sure it's Chinese. That part's irrelevant.

I did half-listen to some of the hockey games today; the US and Canada were off while the other teams sorted themselves out. The Russians advanced, so no one is being taken off to the gulag yet*. In the Krejci versus Chara battle, aka Czech Republic versus Slovakia, Krejci won, scoring the first Bruin goal of the Games, and Chara gets a week of rest before the NHL resumes (which, as a Bruins fan, I can't be too sorry about). Tomorrow, it's US versus Krejci.
*I'm only kind of joking. The Russians have said that if they only get one gold medal in these Games, if it's the hockey, that's okay. I'm kind of worried about what will happen to them if they lose.

After George vacated my lap tonight (moving to the floor first, then the window:

Isn't he cute? He relaxes so thoroughly that earlier today, he relaxed right off the couch, and I laughed so hard it kind of hurt), I picked up a knitting pattern that thwarted me last week, and started again, grimly determined to figure it out. My friend who's pregnant had the baby today, and while I did make a couple of hats, I really wanted to make these adorable duck booties, but the cast-on is, well, we won't say difficult, we'll say, fiddly. Like Guinness Book-level fiddly. (Aside: did everyone but me know that Guinness Book of World Records and Guinness Brewery are the same Guinness? I was so surprised by that; it seems obvious in retrospect, but it just never occurred to me.)  It doesn't help that I don't have a lot of experience with the magic loop method, but sometimes something that I don't "get" seems impossible until I figure out the why or the how or the logistics, or whatever I'm missing.

With the help of this blog post, and some messing about, I finally got the light-bulb moment I needed, and I believe I'm on my way. Off to keep on and see if I have actually figured it out, or am about to face-plant like an off-balance ski-jumper. To use a timely metaphor.

Cats and Flowers

I got some more cat pictures this morning. I know you're shocked.

George says, "How do you know..."

"...that you're not the one who's upside down?"

(I turned the blanket the other way out, so I can tell where it ends and he begins. With the dark side up, I was afraid I was going to sit on him by mistake.)

Carlos says, "Hush."

"Is sleeping time."

So I went out this afternoon on a mood-enhancing mission. Can you guess where?

I was wondering, on the drive, how many people who read here are in, or have lived in, snowy areas. Do you know what it's really like to live with? Not this part, the pretty, sparkly white part:

 But this. Grungy, dirty, in the way, can't see over the snowbanks part.

That's why periodically I have to go through this door.

 Where it is this: warm, and humid (in the good sense of "not dry").

Having a blog means having blog archives means I can say I first went to the Wellesley greenhouses in 2010 (and again in 2011 and 2013)(2012 was Florida, and a mild winter, which is probably why nothing that year; only so much archive-diving I'm doing). It makes me smile! Warm and color and green and hope. Join me. More pictures than probably anyone else wants to see, but I please myself first, after all.

Goodbye winter!