Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Could Not Get to Sleep

When I say that I couldn't get to sleep last night, I mean that I Could Not Sleep. It was around 10:30 when I turned the light off, tossed, turned, resettled, turned, tossed, flipped. Got up at midnight and went on the computer for a while. Back in bed at 12:30, tossed, turned, groaned, tossed, tried the couch. Sometime after 2, I fell asleep.

This never happens to me, and I don't know why it did last night. I had an interview this morning, but I wasn't that nervous about it. Pan still isn't eating, and I'm worried about him, but I've been worrying about him for weeks now. Caffeine doesn't usually bother me, so I don't think the Coke I had around 7 had me up until 2. No idea, but it was puzzling and infuriating. And although the interview went well (it's with another agency), I'm kind of in a fog now. Energy and lack thereof, mysterious.

I'm going to try to get a few things done, anyway. Yawn...

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Time for some happy things

A happy thing is when you finish* a good book by a new author, and upon consulting Google, learn that she has another out in the series already, and more planned for next year and the year after, plus another series starting next year. Whew!

*And let me tell you, twenty pages left and I had No Idea how she was going to finish it. Never saw it coming, but man, it worked!

The author is Ann Aguirre, and I'd never heard of her before. Grimspace is her first novel, and I read the start of it in the Books-A-Million Science Fiction Book Club. (Have I told you about that before? They e-mail the beginning of a book over the course of a week, Monday through Friday, so you can sample it and see if you like it. All free, though of course they hope you'll want to buy the books, from them. I mostly use the library, since I doubt I'll ever in my life be able to afford to buy all the books I want to read. Anyway, they have a bunch of different clubs, such as mystery, business, etcetera, and it's a great way to taste a book to see if you want more. Learn about it here. End digression.) I liked the start of book, and got it out of the library. Very good stuff! So that's a happy thing.

Another happy thing is when NESN decides to televise a preseason Bruins game. Between my schedule and theirs, I haven't been able to get to training camp to see them working out, so this was my first chance to hear and see hockey again. Ahhh. It was a good game. They lost, but it was close, and entertaining, and hockey.

A couple of thoughts: I'm not sure why NESN had music playing along with the Jeremy Jacobs interview between periods. It was very distracting. I'm hoping it doesn't become a habit with them.

New NESN reporter Naoko Funayama interviewed Patrice Bergeron after the game, and made him look very, very tall*. Can't wait to see her interview Chara**. How far back will the camera operator have to stand to get them both in the shot?

*Bergeron is 6 feet tall.
**Chara is 6 foot nine.

Unfortunately, NESN doesn't have another game for two weeks. They're blowing off the rest of the preseason, and the Bruins' opening game is on Versus (on my birthday, yay! Ten PM start, boo!). So they'll be showing the game October 11, when I'll be ... in New York, at my grandmother's. Sigh. Life's just That Way sometimes, innit?

Other happy things include a surprisingly pleasant new yogurt:

Lord knows I can use all the calm I can get right about now.

And the brownies I'm going to make as soon as I hit "publish post". Because they are called for. Brownies are the ne plus ultra of happy things.

I'm not the only one watching out for Pan

Note the tail wrapped around.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Rain, cats, and applesauce

It's pouring rain.

It has been all day without cease. Around lunch, I checked the weather online, just curious, and saw that there was a Flood Watch for Massachusetts. When I looked at the details, I saw that it goes until Sunday morning. Wow, that's a lot of rain! They're estimating we'll get 3 to 6 inches. Send boats.

Fortunately, I didn't have to go out, and saw no reason to do so in these conditions. I've spent a quiet day with the cats.

In fact, I had a smidge of a headache this afternoon, and went to lie down for a little bit. Both cats were on the bed, and when I joined them, Pan walked up to my head, watched me for a few minutes, and them draped himself over my forearms. He put his head down near my elbow and went to sleep. It was a really nice snuggle, and might have gone on for longer if I hadn't felt the need to move my arms after about an hour.

Speaking of cats, I just read a book that I recommend if you like cats and books, or more specifically libraries.

I read a review that sounded promising, and found the book to be really enjoyable. In addition to being about the life of Dewey, the library cat, it's also the story of Spencer, Iowa, a town that's gone through considerable ups and downs while trying to remain true to itself. Very interesting.

Plus, this woman really gets cats. Such as the difference between cats and dogs:
"...cats may need you, but they aren't needy."
And refuting the idea of the lazy cat:
"Cats aren't lazy; they'll put in the work to thwart even the best-laid plans."
I'm not saying you have to read it, of course. Just that if you think the subject appeals to you, try it, because I bet you're right.

I'm making more applesauce tonight. The chilly, drippy weather seemed to cry out for something bubbling on the stove, and I've been meaning to use up more of the apples from last weekend, and freeze the sauce for future use. I went to Target yesterday to get some 1-cup plastic containers, and utterly struck out. There were a couple of half-cup sized, and 2-cup, 4-cup, 6-cup ... all fine in their way, but not what I wanted. I found some at the Christmas Tree Shop.

Target also seems to have stopped carrying the trash bags I use in the kitchen, the extra tall size, which fit around the freakishly large trash can I have (what can I say? it has style, but most kitchen bags won't fit it). Not that I'm 100% sure, but this is the second store I checked, plus the kid stocking the section looked up the name of them on his little hand-held doohickey and found no match. Very irritating. It's frustrating to go in for three specific things and come out with one.

In a final and unrelated note, to go back to e-mail spam for a moment, I have two questions. First, why is so much spam dedicated to replica watches? And second, when will they learn that if they ever want to sell me male enhancement products, a subject line like, "You'll for sure will be more manly" isn't the way to my English-major heart. Seriously, Leandro, even if I wanted your product, that kind of error makes me hit delete faster than usual. Word to the wise.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

I'm afraid

I am worn out with worrying about Pan.

I haven't been good for much this week. I got through the interview Monday morning fine (at least as far as interviews go), but otherwise, it's been a major effort to do simple things like pick up books at the library or buy food. Going to my stitch and bitch group Monday night was good, a fine distraction and I really enjoyed it, but that's an exception this week.

I'm in limbo. Pan hasn't been himself for several weeks, and it's wearing on me.

What's Changed
He's not eating that I can see, so of course he's losing weight. He won't even eat special treats like cheese or tuna, and now when I pet him, I can feel bones that I never did before. He's still drinking, but how long can a cat live on just water? I want to think that he's eating when I'm not around, but I'm pretty sure that's wishful thinking.

He also doesn't care for Pill Pockets anymore. Sniffs them and looks at me like, yeah, so? I bought a pill shooter and it's better than trying to get them to the back of his throat by hand, but tonight after I dosed him, he threw them all up.

He walks slowly and cautiously, like he's not sure everything's going to work.

His fur looks spikier than it ever did, which is surely an odd symptom. It doesn't bounce back after I pet him, but stays disturbed for a bit.

On Monday, every few minutes, he'd make a series of odd noises, like mini-sneezes. Pft, pft, pft, all day. He's pretty much stopped doing it, but it was freaky. And according to the vet, not a usual related symptom to his condition.

On the Plus Side
He does purr, he curls up with Harold, he snuggles (tentatively) with me.

Lately he comes to the bathroom every day after I shower, to lick the water.

So far he can still jump up on chairs and beds and laps, as well as ever.

But sometimes he looks at me, and I know I'm anthropomorphizing, but it's all I can do not to cry. I try not to, because he's always gotten upset when I'm upset, and I don't want to upset him now, but it's so hard.

I'm afraid.

When I had to take him to the vet last month, I hated it even more than he did, because he hated the experience, while I hated the possibilities. The combined stress of going in the car, being at the vet, the sounds and smells of all the other animals; not good for his poor heart. I knew what could happen, while he didn't.

He doesn't know now. He's not scared, and that's good. But I am. It's like this enormous THING, which I don't want to think about and can't not think about, and it's between me and everything else I should be doing. Whether it's vacuum the rug or find a job ... I just can't do it.

When my last cat, Honey, died, it took me completely by surprise.

Looking back, there were signs, but at the time I didn't recognize them for what they were. When the vet wanted to keep her over the weekend to give her fluids for dehydration, I was sorry to leave her there, but not overly concerned. I thought I would be picking her up Monday evening and we'd be fine again. I was oblivious.

That Monday afternoon the vet called me at work to say that I could come pick her up any time, because there was nothing else they could do.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

I went to get her, and took her home, and she died a few hours later. Looking back, especially now, I can't decide if it was better not to know ahead of time that it was coming. It was such a shock ... but was it better in the long run, like ripping off the bandage? I just don't know.

I hope that Pan won't die any time soon. "Hope" doesn't seem a strong enough word for how I feel about this. But knowing that he might, that he could ... it's not a good feeling. In fact, it's a rotten, horrible, awful, "I can't tell you how much I hate this" feeling.

Life Changes You
After Honey died, I tried to distract myself with reading. At the time, I was a big mystery fan, and a new Karen Kijewski came in. She wrote a series about a PI named Kat Colorado, which I had really enjoyed. I don't remember which one this was, but it started with a man who was missing: he'd gone out on his boat, I think, and never came back. Kat went to talk to his wife, who wailed, "He's dead! He's dead and gone! He's dead and he's never coming back!"

Not the best distraction. I closed the book and never picked it up again. A true case of "It's not you, it's me."

I don't read as many mysteries as I used to. It was all the serial killers that started to get to me the most, but I simply don't handle the deaths in general as lightly as I used to.

It seems like this week, I'm one emotional extreme or the other. I'm a wreck, sniffling on the couch ... or, I'm numb. Listless. Unmotivated. Sitting staring into space. Sometimes, I'm not even thinking about things, but I'll take a breath and find it's all shaky. He isn't going to get better, I know ... but why can't he get better? Why not?

Jed Bartlett for President

Thanks to Nicole Antoinette, I read this delicious "conversation" between Jed Bartlett and Barack Obama in the Times.
"I’ve been a little out of touch but is there a mandate that the vice president be skilled at field dressing a moose?"
The whole thing is fantastic, and made me miss West Wing more than ever. Coincidentally, I was just watching some old taped episodes yesterday. The only politics I ever cared for, nay enjoyed...

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Neighborhood distress

One of the things I've come to realize since being laid off is that there are, in my immediate neighborhood, quite a lot of children, who play outside quite a lot of the time. Objectively, I would think of this as a good thing: they're not planted in front of the TV or computer, isolated and sedentary, but are outside, running and biking and playing with others. Good for them, right? Good for their parents, right?

A lot of the time, I'm finding that I'm not really capable of maintaining objectivity, because I'm a pretty quiet person, and they are frequently loud. Really loud. They yell back and forth, skid their bike tires, argue, all under my windows at top volume. There have been times, like when I had a headache, that I had to fight with myself not to yell back at them, "Shut up!" I'm home a lot more than when I was working, obviously, and somehow I find it bothers me more than it did when I was out all day. Maybe I was just so happy to be home, outside noises didn't intrude as much?

And on the other hand, as I tell myself, at least there is a bright side to their noise, societally speaking, which I can't say when my neighbor across the street is working in his yard again, mowing or weed-wacking or doing whatever-the-hell today's task is. (He's retired, and clearly loves his yard. Oy.)

Anyway, tonight, I was lying on the bed, reading and hanging out with Pan, and there's a group of the kids outside making loud retching noises. And by loud, I mean that with all the windows closed, it sounds like someone being sick next to my bed. I started to feel queasy, and had to leave the room. And no matter how much good it does to the future of humanity to have kids playing outside instead of inside, that's just nasty.

Agree? Disagree? Thoughts or insights? I'm sure it goes to show that I'm getting ever-closer to Old Fart status.

Hopefully, the corn on the cob that I'm having for dinner will comfort me. I stopped in at Wilson's today, and they still had "our own" corn, so I couldn't resist. In fact, it's time to get the pot boiling. What are you having for dinner? What can't you resist at your local farm or favorite store?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

How many of me are there?

This is pretty cool, I think.

I read about this on another blog, this website where you can see just exactly how popular your name is (in the US, anyway).

Of course, I had to try it myself.

LogoThere are
people with my name in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

For my first name, there are over 125,000 in the US (and over half a million of the more common spelling variant; if you know me IRL, you know what I mean). And over 99% percent of us are female, how ... comforting? Or something.

Let me know, if you try it, how close to unique your name is!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Some days

Some days have more ups and downs than others. Today had some down downs, but in the end, laughter is the thing.

more animals

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Apples and fires (waterfires)

This morning, I was resigned to Autumn. I went apple-picking yesterday, we made apple crisp (mmm-mmm!), and we smelled the wood fires on a cool evening. It is Autumn. I was at peace.

You should have seen my face this afternoon when I left the house and found it was 80 degrees out. Oh, New England, you tease!

Yesterday was a lot of fun, even before I saw this bumper sticker:

It was a beautiful Fall day, and the apples were ready:

Some of them have clearly been getting up to no good, though:

Even the small fry were having fun.

(This isn't someone I was there with; I felt okay with posting an unidentifiable photo of someone else's kid.)

Before you start picking, a peck doesn't seem like a lot of apples. As you're carrying them, it comes to feel that way.

And when you get them home, you're sure. A Lot of Apples. I have applesauce bubbling on the stove, which smells marvelous. I'll be making more before too long, given how many apples are still left. (I'm not complaining.) Yes, it was a lovely day.

I went shopping for a while between apples and evening plans. Didn't get anything exciting*, but I was pleased to find that the outlet mall has a Merrell store. When my feet are fully recovered*, that will be good to have.

*Although, if you are near a Harry & David and you like caramel corn, may I recommend the fat free caramel toffee version of the Moose Munch? It's not cheap, but you won't regret it. At all.

**The blisters are a lot better. I wear shoes! But those last two spots are not 100% yet, and as I learned, trying on shoes is inadvisable until they are. Nothing feels right.

Do you recognize these? There was a whole tree of them, looking like exploding raspberries. Fascinating.

After dinner, we went into Providence for WaterFire. It was very autumnal fun, and I took many blurry photos. A few are reasonably clear.

I hadn't looked at the website before finding it to link to, and I am greatly amused that they call it not a festival, not a party, but a sculpture. Riiiight.

I was taking some Pan pictures recently, since he was looking especially fuzzy in the sun:

When I turned my head, there was another country heard from:

Did you know you have two cats?

Poor Harold. He gets no respect.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Time and past to talk about hockey

I can't let the start of training camp pass without delving into the subject of my Bruins at least a little bit, no matter how much job searching and feline health worrying may take my time. The Bruins are back! Hockey is back! It's the best thing about summer ending.

And it all starts with great news: Patrice Bergeron is all better. He'll be able to play, no health concerns or restrictions at all. It will be so great to see my favorite (current) Bruin, uninjured, out there again, just like he's meant to be.

Now, I'll admit, I'm not as thrilled with every piece of news so far. Like the fact that their opening game, which they kindly play on my actual birthday, starts at 10pm? Not thrilled. Stupid circus in town and the stupid circus road trip, every single year they mess with my long-summer, hockey-deprived mind. But overall, I'm happy. I may even go watch some of training camp, depending on how things go on Monday. It's always fun to see, and especially hear, hockey again.

One more good thing about the end of summer? Going apple picking. Yeah. Tomorrow. Yum. Fun.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Feline Update

Harold is sorry to report that his campaign for all my attention, all the time, now that I'm home more, is still not achieving full success. He is a little depressed about this.

Hasn't she heard that I'm an important cat?

Someone else was not ready for his close-up.

Mom! No flash! It hurts my sensitive little eyes! Have some respect.

In job-searching news, I had a phone interview* today which went well, and led to an appointment to see them in person on Monday. And tomorrow I have an interview for another job. Encouraging!

*While I was thinking about the nature of phone interviews as related to in-person interviews, I was reminded of a hockey saying: "You can't win a game in the first period, but you can lose it in the first period."

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The view from Harold

No ... no lap?

What do you mean ... no lap?

But, I want lap!

"Ten times in one day is enough"?
What does that mean?
I want lap!

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Various updates (how descriptive)

Pan update: he seems to be a little better, thank deity of choice. He's not quite as distant as he had been being. Yesterday he came and sat on my lap, and again this morning, and it was simply lovely. It's less than a week since he lapped, but it felt like longer. I also saw him eating, which was a relief, and he's eaten his pills, if not eagerly, at least willingly, several times since yesterday. (I went out and bought a pill shooter, so of course he started taking the pills again: natural feline perversity.) We may not be out of the woods, but at least they're thinning for now, and I'll take it.

In other news, I think I've solved my upcoming dilemma, to wit: I have an interview on Friday, and I still can't comfortably wear shoes. I know, it's almost two weeks since the Bad Shoe Incident, but I haven't been able to walk normally in shoes yet. There has been improvement, most of the little blisters are gone or almost so, but the two worst ones, the ones toward my heels, just don't do well with any pressure. Socks, yes, flip-flops yes; shoes make me hobble.

Enter the solution:

I had some time to kill and wandered into Marshall's (discount clothing chain store), and just look what I found. Fairly comfortable (miles better that the ones from the Incident), and no backs:

I actually wore them most of today, and the results were very positive. I do need to adjust to the height, since most of my shoes are flats, but there's virtually no soreness, yay. And, I like them!

And thank heavens for a bright thing, since my day included the dentist and a full set of x-rays (gag x 24), and voting in the local primary (civic-minded but dull) and really just job search and blah. And, I've gotten so much done on my second sea sock, in just a week, but I'm wondering if I need to rip out the heel and do it again, since it seems ... excessively roomy.

I can't face it tonight. We'll see.

One final shot, from the town event I went to this weekend. They had a pie-throwing booth, and look at the target:

Welcome to Boston.

Sunday, September 14, 2008


For the last few days, I've been more worried than usual about Pan. He's seemed a little less engaged than he was. Who would have thought I would miss the nagging to "sit down already so I can sleep on your lap"? He's not completely retreating: he'll sit near me, on the back of the couch or on the bed, and be purring, but it isn't the same. I woke last night and found him curled up with me, entwined, and was so happy, but today he's back to looking at me from a distance.

He's also stopped wanting to eat the Pill Pockets, which means I have to pop the pills in for him, and he doesn't fight it much but I still hate doing it. When he started doing this, I wondered if the last of the PPs were getting stale, but after the first one of the new package, he still doesn't want them. It's so worrying. I see him drinking water, and using the box, and getting in the shower to lick the walls (does that count as drinking, recreation, or both?), but I realized yesterday, I think it was, that I haven't noticed him eating recently. I'm sure he has (right?), just that I haven't noticed him doing it, but more worry. Today, I offered him some wet food as a treat (the boys are dry-only, always have been), and he sniffed it and looked at me like, so what? Harold came along later and was happy to have some.

For that matter, Harold has been extra-lappy over the last week or so. Weird coincidence. Thank heavens he sleeps a lot, because when he's awake he keeps coming to see if what I'm doing goes with having him on my lap. It's like he's lapping for two, so to speak. Weirder and weirder.

This isn't a story with a conclusion. There's no, "and then..." It's just me, worrying.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

An Evening with Franklin

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get any great photos of Franklin last night, and it wasn't even the intimidation factor of snapping pictures of a really good photographer. The issue was primarily that without the flash, there was blurry, and with the flash, the lighting looked decidedly odd. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Now, I grant you, at the Stata Center, it's not at all unlikely that the lighting would be odd. I mean, have you seen this building?

At least, if the lighting wasn't weird, it would be one of the few non-odd things about the surroundings--but in fact I was there, and the lighting was not noticeably weird. The chairs were a little close together for comfortable knitting (elbows, you know), but of course everyone* managed anyway, and the lighting was sufficient, and certainly better than the Yarn Harlot at the Calvin, so I guess MIT wins this round.

*Not literally everyone was knitting, although most were. A woman in the row behind me was quilting. I got to the heel on my second sea sock.

There were a few technical difficulties to delay the start, but of course a group of knitters can pass the time quite well, and there was a lot of project-gawping and love-your-sweatering and can-I-touch-your-yarn going on (that's the knitters handshake, after all). I had brought a scarf, since yesterday was chilly, and since it hasn't been scarf weather in so long, I'd forgotten how the Ruffles scarf is interesting to a knitting crowd. (I wore it to the Knit Out a couple of years ago when I was making it.) It was fun.

My favorite shot is this one, which is blurry, but not so blurry as to be immediately discarded. (After all, this is just a casual blog synopsis, not a professional review.) He was getting things set up, and looked up just as I took the photo.

He probably wasn't looking at me and wondering how he had ended up in a room full of strangers who wanted to take his picture ... but maybe he was.

He had a whole presentation, starting with this cartoon (from the book, of course):

I thought he was a good speaker, and not as nervous as I would have been if I was invited to speak in front of "probably about ten people" and had to face a hundred or so.

He talked about how he got started knitting, and about how the 1,000 Knitters Project came about, and how it's going (in short: well, very well). I particularly enjoyed the story of Debbie New* being actually unable to work on anything as simple as a row of 22 stitches of plain knitting.

*Non-knitters note: Debbie New is a knitting celebrity**. She knit a lace coracle (a boat) that actually floats. She knit a kaleidoscope. I think that she could knit anything, literally.

**Franklin noted that muggles (non-knitters) are often baffled by the use of the term "knitting celebrities"***. His impression of a bass fishing fan mocking the idea, and then recognizing "Bubba McSomething" on a fishing show, was hilarious.

***I saw Stitchy McYarnpants, still working on the crochet-edged beer cans for her friend's drag contest costume, and Jess from Ravelry, and a few other people I recognized.

When he talked about the 1,000 Knitters, he brought out the scarf:

... then bowled it down the center aisle.

Rolling it back up, he talked about certain notable parts of the almost-finished object (bobbles, a hole, etcetera; I don't want to spoil the story). And no, he hasn't measured how long it is.

Franklin's sister came down from Maine for the event, and brought the fabulous shawl he made for Abigail, the one that caused the largest amount of drool in keyboards of 2007 (you remember, right? that wasn't just me?). It was amazing to see it in person. What gorgeous work. The man can knit!

My overall favorite thing he said was when he called knitting, "the most beautiful form of procrastination". I need that on a t-shirt, okay? Someone? Thanks.

I'd only seen the Stata from the outside before. It's equally, ah, interesting from the inside.

A skylight showed the rain I could have done without.

The room we were in had such an interesting ceiling. Maybe I hang around too many knitters, but I couldn't help wondering if something unexpected happened during construction, and the person in charge said, "Make it look like a star and call it a design element!"

Through one window and across to ... a greenhouse? Or something?

The question mark at the info desk is a great idea (and directional marker), even if yes, it looks like it was Photoshopped in.

From the other side, though, it makes me say ¿Que?

Next time, perhaps I will try to hang upside down from above, to get it that way. It's good to have goals.

On the way out, we saw this sign:

And looked up:

Lovely, yes? Although perhaps a bit more moth than butterfly. Still, I like it.

Friday, September 12, 2008

A dilemma, a review, and a photo

I'm going out tonight, and rain is coming into the area, which gives me a dilemma. I've been sticking with the flip-flops, even as the weather has gotten chillier, because shoes and the blisters are still not a happy combination. The blisters are improving, really, but they're not healed yet, particularly the heel ones. The blister-specific bandages are helping, but... yeah. We're not quite there.

When I got ready to go out this morning, I tried a couple of different pairs of shoes before resigning myself to the flip-flops again*. I'll have to walk a little bit tonight, and slipping on wet flip-flops sounds as unappealing as wearing shoes that rub the blisters. What to do, what to do.

*I was actually sitting on my couch, weighing the options: pain or cold? pain or cold?

So where am I going tonight? To see Franklin speak. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Should be fun!

Before I leave you today though, two things. First, I read a good book recently and I want to tell you about it before it goes back to the library. It's called My Husband's Sweethearts, by Bridget Asher, and I was fascinated by the premise:
Faced with the imminent death of her charming, cheating and estranged husband Artie, Lucy Shoreman decides to call the names in his little black book and invite the ladies to his Philadelphia home to say a final farewell.
And I felt it lived up to that interest. There was one denouement that didn't shock me, but it was handled well and I didn't feel cheated or anything by it. Good idea, well-written, very enjoyable. Check it out!

And the second thing is a photo I forgot to add yesterday, from the farmer's market. Fishermen speak of the one that got away; I write about the item I didn't buy.

Did you know that sprouts grow on little Christmas trees? Neither did I! Learn something new every day.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

The brighter side of being unemployed.

Well, hey, who am I kidding, if the pesky money issue wasn't there, I'd love to not work. I'm not one of these people who, upon winning millions in the lottery, keeps their job down at the plant.

But specifically, being out of work right now means that I can finally go to the local farmers market, which has always irked me by being during the day. Although fall weather is coming, it's still pleasant, and I walked into town to see what they had. It's a small market, but I found a few things:

For seven dollars, I think I made out. Don't you love those carrots?

He said he planted them too close together. Carrot love!

I passed a nice garden on the way. If you look closely, you can see tomatoes among the flowers:

And cucumbers climbing onto the porch. Nice!

This bush had to be ten feet tall.

And the flowers were beautiful.

I went up to my former place of employment yesterday and had lunch with a few people, then visited my little garden plot once more. There were still a few tomatoes, and a bunch of green beans (past peak, most of them).

And I picked basil, catnip, and mint (because it was there).

Now I'm off, for my second night of twin-sitting this week. The other night was fun, but whew! Thirteen-month-old twins negate the need for a gym membership. Fortunately, dinner, play, and bed was followed by several hours knitting and reading on the couch. I needed to recover! It was fun, but they move so fast I didn't even get any pictures!