Finally. It's put together thanks for the work of M, my weaving teacher, and the faithful J. Obviously it is not fully tied up but one of the main reasons I wanted it put together was to see how much of the floor it took up. It is now evident that some furniture rearrangement is called for. M suggested turning the loom around so my back was to the wall and the light would fall on the weaving in process. Whatever I do there isn't enough room at the side of the loom to get past easily. I'm not going to do it before the trip, but I will have to do some re-adjustment, perhaps moving some things into the spare bedroom (like bags of fibre) or even back into the computer room. I have a book somewhere that describes the tie-up of countermarch looms so that adventure also lies in the future.

Everything that could possibly go wrong with booking my trip has, but I think everything is now done. There were too many cases of not being able to make connections in the times allotted, airline screwups, hotel rates jumping 300% over a period of days. My sister's situation has changed at the last minute which required some inner debate as well.

Swans news: They won the elimination final! J and I got together with takeaway and a bottle of wine and were about ready to call it a night after a dismal first quarter, but they managed to pull their socks up (figuratively if not literally) and win by 35 points. Much screaming and yelling and singing the team song at Chateau Swanknitter. Roosy was bagging (in jest) those who preferred to stay home next to the heater with a cup of chicken soup, but I really would have liked to have gone but I just couldn't afford the expense or the time (not could J). I don't mind sitting in the rain watching my Swannies win, but I do NOT like the Homebush stadium and had the match been at the SCG I might have gone. This weekend they play the Bulldogs who beat us so badly here in Canberra a few months ago. But Goodes is on song, and maybe Mick will be back and some of the youngsters are growing confidence. Much has been made of Kieran Jack who is the son of a rugby league legend, and his father was ecstatic when young Jack kicked 3 goals.

Book report: I finished Measuring America and it was well worth the read although the real underlying theme was the rise of uniform measurements worldwide, culminating in metric. So it was very interesting both from the standpoint of how America got laid out in a grid, right up to its refusal to adopt metric measurement today. I live in a metric world and I rarely convert from one measurement to another, but a box of cereal is a box of cereal whether it's metric or oz. I am now reading Out of Mao's Shadow, the struggle for the soul of a new China by Philip Pan. He was a writer for the Washington Post and while I've read several books about post-Mao China, this one writes it from the inside, what the people actually think, not what has changed to Western eyes. We know about the Cultural Revolution but there is a generation of young Chinese who have never been taught about it. We know about the hot new industrial climate in southern China, but not the unemployed steel workers in the north who, in the land of worker's paradise, cannot even form a union or protest when their pension funds are embezzled. It's a weird feeling when the evil West knows more about China's past than the Chinese do. We know about sweat shops and pollution and shoddy products, but not about the horrific rate of deaths in coal mines and the careful cover-ups done by the one party system. Protesters at the Olympics should have been asking about the unemployed and starving ordinary Chinese who have no public spokesperson to shine a light on their plight. I recommend this book highly to those who are interested in what goes on behind the red curtain.

While I have continued to make progress on CaW, I was feeling spinning withdrawal so I pulled this out of the stash. It Targhee from Susan's Spinning Bunny (Hi, Susan) in Clematis vine colourway. I have never spun Targhee before and it feels very strange. While I can see the individual fibres when I'm drafting, it has a very springy almost spongey texture. Since I only have 4 oz and am spinning it fine, I guess I'll try it for socks. It is retains its springy character when spun up, it should be good. Susan is one of the people I hope to meet in the flesh on my trip. Internet relationships do need occasional face time. Even my late best friend C, who exchanged mail with me just about daily, only shared air with me when we both went to the same conventions or on a couple of ill-fated visits (things sometimes go wrong).

I have been having endless problems with American Airlines and my flight reservations. Apparently when I made my reservation, and was forced to use their site in India because Australians are now forbidden to use their US site, either my not reading the fine print or the way the web page was designed, my surname and forename got reversed. In these days of automated responses, you don't instantly have alarm bells going off when something is addressed to Smith John instead of John Smith. It didn't to me, but then I wanted to double check some times and could find no listing under my name. Last night I finally got to the nub of the matter, after several previously fruitless and lengthy phone calls to a toll-free number that may have been answered anywhere in the world for all I know, and found somebody who noticed the error. They promise that the change will be rectified and even called me today to give me a status report which is good because I tried to call the listing up today and it was still missing. Outsourcing services may save money but when my only alternatives for buying tickets were India, Japan, China and Korea, I was not amused. Sure they will do currency conversions but I don't like fares quoted in rupees. I am only using American because of frequent flyer connections with Qantas. Global economy indeed. And by the way, I was right to buy when I did because the Aussie dollar has last 10 cents against the US dollar in the past fortnight.

I am slightly less depressed than I was last week. I still feel like I have no goal, no path, no future with an expected or wished for outcome. Still just going through the motions. I managed to recover from my fall and then overdid pruning back the jungle between the back shed and the fence. Lots of lampant berry bushes, ivy, wild passionfruit, wisteria and privet. And since the trashpack is full I had to leave it where it lay. Emerged to be sore the next day and my hands covered in scratches. I need to get a new pair of leather garden gloves since I wear through them so fast.

I read Sherri Tepper's Sideshow while I was recovering and it was not very interesting compared to other of her works. Too much unnecessary complexity and weirdness seemingly for it's own sake. I also have a quibble with the Great Question which drives the culture(s) she describes, which is: what is humanity's destiny? "Destiny" to me means a final outcome, like I am destined to be a musician. She really meant (I think) what is humanity's purpose? which is an entirely different kettle of fish and the answer seemed to have been to become more than human. Humanity wasn't destined for that but that was its goal, its next step in evolution. And the need to tell the story through hermaphoditic siamese twins I really don't understand. Like I said, unnecessary complications.

I also took a stab at Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture, which was touted as being so insightful and thought provoking. I found it full of platitudes and written by somebody who had never had a single obstacle in his life until he got pancreatic cancer. One of the first chapters is called something like "choose your parents carefully" and he had lovely parents who encouraged him and discussed things in ways that were verified by dictionary and encyclopedia and, not by "because I said so" which is where our family discussions usually ended. My father was very domineering and his opinion was the law. Ever when I was an adult and he was in his 80s, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes it didn't exist so I gave up on trying to tell him anything, even that there was a new store open down the street. He'd tell you about it with great delight but wouldn't believe you if you saw it first. I'm not very good at lying or pretending to go along with somebody who obviously wasn't listening. There was no dialogue, no conversation, just his word and your acceptance. Randy excelled in school, had a great job, married the first person he fell in love with and sounds like an all round nice guy but he didn't pass on any gems to me that weren't common sense. But then, common sense isn't common, is it? The book apparently was to provoke parents to talk to their children, but it was a bit late for me. I can't even remember any childhood dreams except wanting to be a cowgirl when I was 5. I've always wanted to learn new things, but that wasn't inspired by my parents who never rewarded me for good grades or academic achievement (and I had lots but they were never good enough). I just like learning and I like to read, one "good" factor from being an only child from the age of 9 and having parents who were a generation older than my friends'.

Now that I'm counting down to my trip I am doing things like booking airport shuttles and arranging for car hire pickup etc. I am also trying to get the house sufficiently clean so I am not consumed with guilt when the house sitter comes. I've decided not to do anything to the garden before I leave and plant it out (late) when I get back. I wish I could do something about the gross carpet in the dining room but have no money to do so. I wasn't going to do anything while The Senior Cat was alive since her had a habit of upchucking in there. Her ashes are to be returned to me tonight and she can join the ashes of Lucy, my dearly reparted Burmese, in the kitchen breakfront. The kitchen vinyl flooring is also full of holes but again waits for funds. I can only clean. I also have every knitter's dilemma: what projects to take with me. Socks of course. Cables After Whiskey? Maybe. A smaller summer top? I'd like to start it before leaving so I don't suddenly realize I don't have the right needles or it's got some other problem I can only solve at home.

Swans news: We're in the finals, but I don't expect us to last long even playing North at home (Homebush). J and I decided not to go, to save money and to use the time more productively at home. With my luck they'll be in the Grand Final and I fly away that weekend.

I've been very depressed lately. I don't see my future path or goals. I am going through the motions of life but I am detached and hiding in a hole in my head. I lost control of that hole a few times, ending up crying in my boss's office again. She wants me to get more rest, to get over the physical soreness that remains from my fall, and get some sleep. One of those unwelcome features of how my depression works is I either can't sleep when I need it the most, or I can't stay awake when I need to. So I'm going to take a flex day and try to regroup.

Since I've joined Ravelry my knitting posts haven't been current so here's an easy blog fillerThis is the back of Cables after whiskey which is a remarkably forgiving pattern. Since the cables are random, if you miss one of them, and see you have too much plain stockinette at the end of a cable row, you can just throw one in. While this yarn isn't top of the line (Stahl Hobby) it's also light enough that I can wear it without stifling. Only cable once every 8 rows so it's actually pretty mindless.

and there's always socks. These a rather vivid colourway of Opal.

I think genetics is very unfair and practically impossible to argue with. My dear MIL has discovered that her family carries one of the breast cancer genes and therefore she has an 80% of getting breast cancer. You can understand why women remove them rather than living a life with that kind of shadow over it. My genetics, at least what I am railing about tonight, is body shape. One look at the female line of my family and one sees the heavy hips, thighs and belly that probably made us highly desirable in Paleolithic times, but are not the fashion in the 21st century. I need to stay on a 1500 calorie diet all the time if I want to approach my "ideal" weight. I can't. I love to cook, I love to eat. I enjoy a glass of wine now and then. I like to bake, make bread, have a nice piece of cheese. All of these make me gain weight. I have eaten a diet of fish and vegetables for so long, and lost 35 kgs, but I am sooooo tired of it. A piece of red meat? a potato? Everything is forbidden and when I do indulge (I am not that strong-willed) I feel guilty. It is so unfair that some people seem to eat anything and stay slim and other of us always tip the scale over that "ideal" weight. Sometimes you can't fight genetics. And I refuse to be on a diet for the rest of my life. Bring on the cinnamon rolls, the aged Jarlsberg, the chardonnay, and all the fruit I can eat. Check out this site.

My main exercise (since walking per se is not permitted with my knees) is my garden work. I love getting my hands dirty and making things grow. I do not believe there is such a thing as a "no work" garden, unless one can start with an completely blank slate and no weeds drift in on the wind. I find new weeds every year that I have never seen before and they must come from somewhere. I also have a yard planted in every noxious viney plant known to live in this climate. The entire back yard is ringed in vinca and ivy and they are both extremely hard to get rid of, especially when they creep under the fence from neighbors' yards. I was filling up the trash pack with debris today and fell, tipped over a hose, and landed hard on my right side on paving. I think I will be very sore and bruised tomorrow, but I just got up (not quickly) and got on with it. Nobody here to kiss it and make it better. Did I mention how lonely I am and how much I miss him?

Swans news: They lost to Geelong last week and are in the process of losing to Collingwood as I write. If St Kilda wins this week I think we drop out of the 8 and no finals for us. Not that we would have lasted long in the finals. Keep repeating: rebuilding year.

I have an embarrassing confession to make. When I was growing up and reading everything I could get my hands on in the public library, I was intrigued with this British concoction called "porridge." I was convinced it was the essence of British character and was jealous that I didn't have access to it. So now I live in an Anglo country, albeit one caught between English and American languages, and I learn that porridge is just oatmeal. Very disappointing, altho I love oatmeal. My mother had a long list of cooked cereals I was fed on cold mornings: cream of wheat, cream of rice (always lumpy), Ralston, and oatmeal. Today with temps here in the morning of -5C I am glad for quick cooking oats and I always have them with honey, because honey is another of my vices and Australia makes wonderful honey. I am currently working on a jar of white box honey from Beechworth. I was listening to Bush Telegraph on my iPod at work and they interviewed the author of a book about honey. I must find a copy of this and read it with a selection of honey at my side.

While I was sick, writhing in bed with my gut tied in knots (and I'm not 100% healed yet), I read Spin by Robert Charles Wilson, which rates a big thumbs up from me. Part sci-fi, part love story, it is masterfully written and the characters as well as this future world really grab you. I was thinking about Tyler Dupree for days afterwards. While I like a good mystery, they are harder to find these days, so I generally stick to known authors. Sci fi I usually buy in book stores where I can read the cover matter, reviews (are they from the Podunk Daily News or a major reviewer?), etc. I liked Spin enough to check out his other work, so I will troll used book stores, which where I usually buy known-title older books.

Haven't been knitting, been plying, so I can take a skein of hand spun alpaca to BFLB. There were a lot of lost ends in one bobbin of the singles, so there was much muttering and even some scissorwork. While plying I watched Code 46 on DVD which was very entertaining near future science fiction and a love story. Tim Robbins is an actor I have mixed feelings about; Shawshank Redemption is in my Top 10 movies, but other films I haven't found his acting believable. Code 46 was believable even if Samantha Moreton sounded very much like a prima donna in the interviews. I didn't even recognize her as Mary, Queen of Scots, from Elizabeth. I am a movie fanatic but rarely view them in cinemas, because I can't pause them to go to the loo, or find the end in a bobbin of singles,.

I have reluctantly decided that when I have the money to pay a surgeon, etc., I will have to have my knees replaced. Even with losing weight, they hurt, especially in cold weather. If I could get them done both at once and get it over with...

I have now spent 36 hours with IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) due to no good reason I can figure out. I ate no forbidden foods, I haven't had any stress spikes. All I have are waves of pain and severe bloating in my abdomen and more trips to the loo than normal. I've had IBS since I was a child but I didn't know what it was until just before the fibro diagnosis, and now I know that 85% of FMS patients have IBS. I had it so bad at uni (in college) that I stopped eating everything but dairy products in the cafeteria because they were so big on fried food and mystery meat. The only possible culprit, altho it was a delayed reaction if I'm right, is a rissotto I had for lunch on Friday that may have had too much onion in it. I didn't even think of it until I was wracking my brain to find out what I could have eaten. I should be grateful since this business used to be common and is now infrequent. Bur I feel like a mule kicked me. If I lie down, the lack of movement slows it down but I can't stay in bed forever.

Swans news: They Won! I watched a DVD and checked the score now and then (after last week's debacle I didn't dare hope they could beat even Fremantle). And they almost didn't. Trailing into the final minutes of the final quarter and Goodesy did some magic with the footy (as one of the commentators narrated the replay it was "show it to them in this hand, show it in the other, then kick a goal") and a win!. It does show how pathetic they can be without their stars and I hope they are cooking up another batch to fill in Mick's & Goodes' shoes. We have a few promising ones up front and some half decent backs but there's nobody in the middle with the skill and tenacity of Kirk and Bolton. But then I never thought they could play well without Kell, and they managed. Tonight it's Geelong and I don't expect miracles

I had a long day yesterday: GP at 7AM (to join the queue not actually see him) where we have to plan how I can get enough of my meds when I take The Trip, to the markets, to the hardware store to buy a new drip hose, to the chemist, out to lunch with J, home to work on the rose bush and I finally got the potatoes planted. Bintjes, 8 little darlings. The soil in that corner could use some breaking up below the top 8" so they better do their job. As expected I was sore all over and very tired the AM, especially because I couldn't to sleep for all the aches, until I had a glass of sherry at 1AM. So I slept in and then went to the grocery store. No need to buy cat food anymore since The Imp actively rejects wet food. She did like the roo I gave her and even did a bit of play with it--tossing it up in the air, etc. She has gotten very vocal since she became ruler of all she surveys. Greets me every time I come home with a tone that has a deep note of "why did you go off and leave me all alone? Pet me NOW!" There was a very noisy cat fight some time in the night so she has taken over the role of seeing off strange cats. At one point she was sleeping right up in my face and I could feel her breath. And her whiskers.

I think I'll give my body the rest of the day to heal and work on indoor projects. Move curtain rods. Take a nap. I started the pattern part of CAW and misread the instructions so had to frog the first row and I was too tired to concentrate on a second go. Now that we are getting the US So You Think You Can Dance 3 nights a week, I can't watch dancing and knit complicated cables at the same time, but there are plenty of commercials to knit in. We are approaching a local election and the ads have started. I found out from the guy handing out leaflets at the supermarket that it's while I'm away so that's another thing to do before I leave.

The hit counter has broken 10,000 so it seems like you missed me.

Later in the same day as I wrote my last post, we had a death in the family. Dear Miss Pink Nose, the Senior Cat, went to the great cat box in the sky. I took her to the vet for an assessment but she had been so frail lately and the vet said she was having difficulty breathing so I decided right then to end her pain. More tears over the little soul who had been with me almost as long as I had the Bear and only outlived him by a little over a year. I got home and went to clean the littler box and found that she had peed all over the floor yet again, I think just because her back end hurt too much to get it in the right position. The Imp doesn't see to mind, although she has done some looking around in corners and has been a bit clingy. I'll never be lonely with her in the house although I wish she wouldn't wake me up with kisses on my mouth. Ick.

The DNA Files is a really fascinating podcast. It's presented in a light way with one person playing dumb so everything is explained. I have recently learned that my dear MIL many have one of the genes for breast cancer. A relative does and they are now tracing it through the family. Her DNA test will be back in a month. I know from the DNA Files that this gene can express in other types of cancer than breast. I wonder if I have a gene since my mother and sister both had breast cancer. There are no other branches of the family to check as we are the last twigs. I supposedly have reduced my risk having had a hysterectomy (but so had my sister and my mother) and I had breast reduction surgery. After last December's scare who knows. I might ask at my next screening.

I've made a decision since something has changed in my situation. I have decided to tell you why I have been self-censoring and for the most part stop doing it. The trouble I've been having has decided to make itself public so I will tell you my side of the story without getting into sordid details.

When my dear Bear died, the whole scenario played out very quickly and I was mostly concerned with being brave and supportive and not thinking about him actually dying. He knew he had been putting off writing a will; we had talked about it for years and the will form was in the kitchen table for him to fill out and the papers making me the beneficiary of his pension funds. But he never got around to filling them out (he was a world class procrastinator) so there he was dying in front of my eyes without a will. I quickly filled in a basic will making me the executor and sole beneficiary. Despite what other people think, we had no real assets except the house and cars and a large debt on the land we had just bought. While I didn't like it, we lived paycheck to paycheck and when i was able to squirrel away a few thousand dollars it went on house repairs and maintenance. He signed his will in front of the assembled family, witnessed by his sister and his uncle, and I asked his eldest child, E, if she trusted me to distribute whatever money there was to divide and she said yes.

A month later and I'm plowing through the mountain of paperwork that pops up when someone does and I get to claiming death benefits on his super funds (pensions). Unlike estate law, pension funds here are distributed by the trustees of the fund unless you have named a binding beneficiary. I tried to get that form done as well but I missed that it had to be witnessed so the fund declared it invalid. Now the distribution of his 2 funds was in the hands of the trustees. By law, all children are automatically dependents, although not necessarily financial dependents. The children were not responding to my requests for them to sign the paperwork, and I made them an offer of an amount of cash, approved by their mother, if they would choose not to claim for the funds. The next thing I know I get a letter from a probate lawyer acting for E asking me details on the estate, my income, etc. I paid a whopping amount to get another lawyer to tell them there was nothing in the estate to be divided and to go elsewhere.

So they have all claimed on both pension funds as financial dependents. This is the point where is gets a pit tricky and I can't go into detail. Let's just say that E has claimed all sorts of things in her submission to the super fund that are either not true or irrelevant. She went through my blog and listed every time I bought something, every time I worked in the garden (to prove I wasn't really disabled), not knowing or including every time I couldn't get out of bed or all the bills I was faced with lacking the Bear's salary. She accepted the ruling of the first and smaller fund, as did I because I just wanted it done. The second fund is quite a bit larger and she has contested the ruling of the trustees, and now gone further to the Superannuation Complaints Tribunal. From my understanding of the law, she has little legal standing in this because she wasn't financially dependent on the Bear when he died and I was. It's not that the fund didn't award her anything, it's that she thinks it isn't enough. At any rate, it has pushed the settlement of this whole mess even further into the future. Since I will be out of the country for 2 months I may not get any action till December. Meanwhile, I must live on my salary which is much less than a normal salary due to the disability portion which is only 75% of my real salary. With the mortgage taking a large chunk out of that I will have to eat into the payout of the first fund which I had been trying to maintain intact to generate income.

All of this has put me in a state of high stress for almost since the Bear died so I am trying to heal myself from that while dealing with this extremely petty and invasive attack by his children. If they had ever shown any affection for him in the 16 years we were married, I would be able to see the point. But they ignored him, avoided him, didn't visit for years before he died and now, on the basis of a relationship built on phone calls, they claim financial dependence. It's not something I even have any control over because it's now between the children and the fund and my opinion hasn't even entered the picture. This last bit on going to the Tribunal totally mystifies me because she made the complaint before the fund made a decision.

So there it is. We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming. I am still going to the US and aside from a very few nights in 2 months, I will be staying with friends and generally not buying much (as if I needed more yarn or fiber) except at outlet malls and those American foods I adore and can't get here. I'll drink a lot of root beer, eat lots of breakfast sausage, etc. My sister is still undergoing treatment for breast cancer and BFLB is stable with her liver cancer but who knows with these things. I will also see friends and relatives I haven't seen in ages and maybe get a little family history done as well. Yes, I am taking a cruise in Hawaii, with my dear MIL. I have always wanted to see Hawaii and the cruise is surprisingly cheap considering what it covers. I want to see volcanoes and go snorkeling before I'm too old to do them. I have also learned that I cannot fly from the east coast of the US directly home without being in great pain from sitting too long, so decided to break the trip coming and going with a side trip. the Weaving School sounds very daunting but I have been encouraged by the the instructor to do it without a lot of weaving under my belt.

If I've further offended E there's nothing I can do about it and besides, it won't have any bearing on what either the super fund or the Tribunal decide since they are interested in the law and the circumstances existing at the time the Bear died so anything said or done now here is irrelevant. I have been very depressed over this entire state of events, which has also suppressed blogging, and I will try to push it into another of those little boxes in my head so it doesn't hurt so much that the one person I thought I could trust utterly betrayed me.

This self-censoring has taken all the fun out of the blog. I hope it will be over soon, but it may be just as I go overseas and then who knows what I will be able to do. In preparation I have been drafting a new will which will go to the Public Trustee since I wouldn't want to burden anyone I know now with estate business. I also now know how important having a will is.

I have planted both apple trees. I attempted to divide the rhubarb but it was so entangled that trying to separate it broke off big pieces of root. I will have to replane as that rhubarb has been underperforming for years anyway.

Lyrica does wonders for pain but nothing for fatigue. I am totally exhausted and come home and take a nap most days. That's what I get for not resting when I can.

Swans news: they played absolutely horrible football and lost to the Bulldogs by 16 points. They shot off to a great start and then apparently sent in the evil twins or the reserves of the evil twins because after that they didn't know what to do with this funny ball that occasionally came their way. Drop it, mostly. It was disgusting to watch and the lack of Goodes and Mick showed how bad they can be. Yes, Roosy, I know they are young but still... J and I even left the match in the beginning of the 4th quarter as it was so painful to watch.

I am going to try and get gauge for Cables after Whiskey as soon as I finish J's bed socks which are 3/4 complete

There is so much I can't blog about that I feel rather stifled. I am a person who has strong emotions, both positive and negative. I am not manic-depressive since I have never felt mania, but some times are better than others. My ex who has volunteered to chauffeur me on the second stage of my trip in October has seen both sides at their worst. He is in his protective mode which I value so much. Not that I would have ever given up my soul mate, but if my ex had been at the level of maturity he is now (having gone through some bad patches himself) and I had been less rigid in my expectations, we might still be married. But I doubt it; too many promises had been broken long before I met the Bear. I am much better at managing my emotions now, and the grief for my Bear stays in its box most of the time. I have gotten a book out of the library that is a guide to channeling strong emotions for those of my spiritual bent that I hope will give me some ideas. Right now, I am very good at putting on the game face or whenever is needed for long periods of time, but it only means that the bottle get uncorked sometime and it all comes out, usually the bad parts. Funny how I don't get overcome with the effort of holding happiness in check, eh? More socially acceptable to be happy that to be unhappy.

I am knitting a pair of bed socks for J our of hand-spun merino and silk (green) which are very mechanical for me. I have to generate a new knitting project since my dream cardi hasn't materialized, so maybe I'll pull something out of the stash and knit something else. That grey superwash wasn't what I had in mind for the dream cardi but an Aran variation like Cables after Whiskey might be interesting to play with.

Started reading Robert Silverberg's The Alien Years, which was written in 1998 and starts with "seven years from now" and he manages somehow to make it still feel 7 or so years in the future. Silverberg was one of the authors the Bear and I shared so I feel a connection reading "old" sci-fi, which he probably read several times altho I bought this because I didn't recognize the title and with that publication date, I should have remembered it.

It has been extremely windy all evening and I was beginning to worry about trees falling down. There are no big ones of that character near the house. High winds always put me on edge. There goes the roof/window/tree/whatever. Sometimes being a homeowner is too much worry about all the things that could go wrong.

I just finished The Harsh Cry of the Heron by Lian Hearn which is the last book in the Tales of the Otori. The first three books were totally captivating and this one led to a bittersweet end. I was crying while reading the last few pages in which the story finishes, not as one hopes, but as life is. If you haven't read these I encourage you to do so. They are deliberate and beautiful and restrained while deeply emotional and violent as only their time was. I'm not going to say more to keep the illusion you may discover as your own feelings.

Another cold and wet day here. I was trying to dig a hole for my apple tree on Weds. and, aside from using some muscles that have been on holiday for a while, I discovered a pipe. It is only a plastic pipe that was installed as part of overflow mechanism from when we had a swimming pool but it will have to be removed and I ran out of light before I could do so. I am thinking of removing more of the pavers in that area and putting in a different surface. Decomposed granite or even woodchips. More places to fight couch in, but the large paved area in the back of the house heats up in the morning and then radiates heat back to the house all afternoon and evening. If I am going to stay here, I have no need of a large paved area outside the back of the house. If I could be assured of keeping them watered, I'd do more in containers. Not this year while I'll be away for the crux of the planting season, unless my house sitter will water things carefully. I could plant seeds of lettuce in the big terra cotta pot for table use and plant basil in it when I get home. If the basil goes into a pot the snails can't eat it, right?

I have spun 2 bobbins of while alpaca ready to ply to take to BFLB. It hardly made a dent in the white alpaca, but it seems very silky and soft.

I was listening to a new podcast today, The DNA Files. Some new things have been discovered on how genes get switched on and off that I am sure will make an incredible difference to the health of millions, once the scientists figure it all out. I am pretty confident I carry the gene that is latent for arthritic diseases and it got activated big time. I think my sister has it partially expressed, showing some FMS symptoms but not all. My MIL has discovered she has a breast cancer gene throughout her family, and I am high risk as well. My mother died of breast cancer and my sister is currently enduring therapy to remove it from her. Gene therapy offers better health but I am afraid I'm too old to get much benefit from it. I also hope it isn't one of those things that is limited to wealthy nations.

Another episode of the same podcast was about GM foods. I am of two minds on this one. I would love to see rice with an added beta-carotene gene grown in areas with severe deficiencies in Vitamin A in normal diets but I'm not so sure about inserting e.coli into pigs to help reduce their waste products. What about coffee decaffeinated in the bean? Do we know enough to do this? On the other hand we've been messing with plant and animal genetics for thousands of years. If only they'd work on weed genetics and not crop plants. So far the only work I've heard about is finding herbicide resistant weeds.

I was thinking about this before I venture back into the garden to plant my latest plants from Diggers. I am trying potatoes for the first time and I have 2 dwarf apple trees to plant. I know nothing about apples so I am on a steep learning curve. Sorry about the silence but I have been otherwise occupied and very depressed so why share the grief? He really is never coming back and that still rips my heart open daily.

Apparently Blogger lost my last post, which probably just as well because it was full of anger and spite. Last week was a very difficult one for me that sucked the emotional well dry, leaving me anxious and painful in mind and body. While it may be of little interest to my readers I want to say a few things about my spiritual life.

I was brought up very happily as a Congregationalist. I did all that a child could be expected to do: Sunday school, singing in the choir every Sunday, youth group, retreats, summer camp, the lot. In my senior year of high school I lost my connection to that tradition. It was partly due to reading about other ways to be spiritually fulfilled, it was partly disgust at my father's hypocrisy at being a deacon and behaving in an unChristian manner, it was partly just that I no longer believed that I would be spiritually fulfilled or "saved" by performing certain rituals, saying certain words in certain places at certain times. I know my friend J who was brought up in the church nor my dear MIL who is still a Carmelite will not only disagree with me, but try to convince me that the ritual isn't what it's about. If it isn't, then I don't need the ritual. I have always felt most as ease in my connection to God?, the great spirit?, the universe of love? when I have been alone in the natural world. I do believe there is a higher plane but I don't believe in any of the mythology of any organized religion. In fact, the organization of religion is what lost me to the Church.

I have mentioned in the past my trying to live a Buddhist life. By that I simply mean the "be here now" part of it, not hours of meditation on the Tibetan scriptures or kneeling (sorry, no kneeling possible) in front of a golden statue. It is about meditation in removing your mind from the messy bits of daily life and calming your inner self. I am really bad at it and, if I ever manage to make to that calm place, I usually fall asleep since I am continually tired. Most of the fibromyalgia books suggest meditation as a relaxation tool, and I know it works at that but I'd like to get good enough at it that I can stay awake, alert, connected to the world but let the annoyances and pettiness of daily life wash past without arousing anger or anxiety which usually cause tense muscles. I've got quite a library of Buddhist/Zen books, the latest being Awake at Work and I've only read the introduction and know I need more training. My outward manner I know shows good humour, cheerfulness, flexibility and a desire to perform whatever job well. Inside, however I am often churning with resentment beginning with forgetting my lunch, through to the person who pulled out in front of me in traffic and continuing to be told to catalogue a book I think worthless. It extends to my poor typing ability, my frustration with my poor sight, the creakiness of my knees, the exhaustion at the end of the day, just the fact that I will never be pain free. Yes, I hear you, it would take the patience of a saint to live cheerfully with that, and I am not anywhere near a saint (if there are such things). Perhaps I just long to be more "saintly", to accept the life of pain without it dragging my conscious mind along, so I can really accept the pain and learn not to fight it. I do fight it so much and feel guilty when I don't do all the tasks life throws at me, whether it be work or housekeeping. The garden is the only place I really don't mind (except mowing the lawn) because it's where by some magic, my conscious mind goes away except for the low mutter of "need to prune that back, how can I keep the snails out of the silverbeet?, will I get good strawberries this year?" I beat myself up and feel guilty when I am forced to take a sick day which is silly. My life is full of "if only"s and "I ought to"s which are walls preventing me from experiencing the now.

Today's now tells me I moved furniture a bit too much in cleaning yesterday and I need a bit more sleep. I can't be in the now while I'm asleep which is maybe why I resent needing so much of it.

I am afraid I am going to have to censor my blog even more than I had done, by never naming names, etc. It turns out that random comments in blog have been taken out of context and are being used as evidence against me in dispute resolution regarding Brian's superannuation funds. I will not go into details or name names, although I'd love to drag the whole sorry mess into the open. From now on it's knitting/spinning/weaving, Swans news and not much daily life kind of stuff because that stuff has been twisted and used against me. I was wondering who was reading my blog, well now I know one person has been hanging on every word.

Swans news: After a long string of wins, they lost badly to the Magpies on the weekend. Very low scoring game (I couldn't bear to watch). However, Barry Hall did it again and took a swing against a Collingwood player. This happened 2 matches after he returned from a 7 week suspension for a similar action before. The Swans management, not just the tribunal, is very tired of this behaviour and has suspended him internally and are not giving dates when he will return. He's supposedly getting counseling on anger management. This is not meant to defend his actions, which are simply wrong, but he does get targeted by the opposite team, winding him up till his temper blows, but if he can't control his fists in those situations, he shouldn't be playing footy. Simple as that.

We've had heavy rain and it was fortunate because I had just bedded down the berry plants, all tidied up, top dressed with cow manure and mulched with lots of leaves. My spinach seedlings and silver beet are doing well. The rain is not good for my arthritis and I ache all over. Lyrica does an outstanding job on the major pain, but, as my GP has said, I'll never be pain free. The arthritis is in the joints and the fibromyalgia in my muscles. My knees especially don't like wet weather. I am still trying to avoid surgery but a day like today makes me think twice. Since I can't afford a surgeon, I'll make do. No mountain hiking in my future. Lyrica also does nothing for fatigue and as I reach hump day I can feel it creeping up on me. By Thursday I'm exhausted and really have to pry myself out of bed on Fridays if I want to go to the markets for fish & fruit & veg or even do those routines we all have like vacuuming or other sorts of cleaning. I do wish I had a self cleaning oven like I had in the states but they are rare here.

On the knitting front I found a quantity of bulkier weight hand spun in a darker grey. Unfortunately I wound it off in a mess so I have to untangle a very large mass of grey spaghetti before I have balls I can knit with. I think it would look very good in a zip front jacket. Doing this while having 2 cats on your lap is not easy.

Two photos of me from behind. One to show off my hair, which I am exceedingly proud of. My hairdresser always marvels at how healthy it is, considering all the drugs flowing through my system. I am going grey, but it's happening in streaks so one could think it's highlights, but it ain't. It's so slippery I cannot keep a hairclip of any sort in it; they all fall out almost immediately.

At right is the hat I've been slaving over. I am also proud of that considering it's my first stranded colour work.Others on Ravelry say theirs are too big but I have a big head and it fits fine. Very warm as well.

I am now stuck between projects. I wanted to knit something out of handspun but the stuff I pulled out is not suited for what I want to knit and I can't find a pattern anyway. Maybe I'll go back to the project I was going to knit anyway, which is a cabled cardigan out of grey superwash for wearing round the house and out and about. J and I are off to Victoria for the wool show and other delights next week and I'd like to have something other than socks to knit. I am spinning alpaca so I can take a skein to BFLB when I go to see her in November.

My working in the garden and the joy and satisfaction it gives me have made me decide to stay in this house until I retire at least. I feel more confident A.L. (after Lyrica) that I can do the work required and there's something about working with plants that I find very Zen. I am going to pick up 2 more apple trees at Diggers, having decided the apples are OK. These are dwarf heirloom varieties and the fruit bat in me is happy.

Today's family tree find was my great-great-grandmother on the Canadian 1851 census. Her place of birth is given as USA but her husband, Joseph Stanton, said Canadian. He was a farmer and my great-grandmother was there at 10 years. My mother's side of the family seemed to hop across between the US and Canada a lot which makes them doubly hard to trace.

We are not mentioning the passage of the first of July. It was difficult and I felt very fragile all tad but it's over with moderate tears. J came over to keep me company and we ate pizza and planned our holiday. I dread thinking about the price of petrol to drive the Camry there, but I guess there's no escaping it. At least it has a big boot.

Random thoughts on a Sunday morning when my body aches from working on the berry bushes yesterday. This is the time of year to remove all last year's canes, untangle the new growth and tie it to the trellis, and fight against the evils of vinca, wild passionfruit and couch, which invade the growing area. I did over 2 hours at it yesterday (about 2/3 or what was left to do) and, while I am sore and stiff, there is nothing like the agony I would have experienced B.L. (before Lyrica). I want to finish it off but my hands are very sore. If the sun comes out, maybe.

The Imp amazed me the other night by demanding some of what I was cooking for my dinner. Since I eat mostly fish and she never cares about that, I was surprised when she demanded kangaroo. Roo is the only red meat I eat presently, and it's very lean yet very tender. This was the first time I'd gotten unmarinated roo, so I was wondering if it would be as tender. She told me loudly that she wanted some. I had a skinny fillet so I cut bits off the end and she inhaled that and asked for more. In the end she ate the whole fillet. Go figure that one out from Miss Fussy Eater.

I wound off the BFL I had spun to be sock yarn and it looks good (it and the new hat are drying off from their first bath). It's a dusty rose. I can't decide whether to knit myself or take to BFLB who has sent me so much sock yarn over the years and actually got me on the sock addiction. I want to spin more alpaca to take over to her because I can see it being lace. I pulled out a couple of hanks of grey handspun and wound them into balls yesterday. I think this was grey from Brown Sheep mill ends via Carol Lee. I know I spun a lot of it and I have other bits of other greys. Now to find the perfect pattern out of all the mess in the studio.

I must have been asleep (doubtful) or they didn't teach the reality of early New England when I was in school. I am reading Early Americans by Carl Bridenbaugh and found out that 25,000 Puritans emigrated in the 1630's. There were settlements at New Haven, Stratford, and Greenwich, so maybe I am connected on the Cornwell side as well. I had this image of a few hundred people huddled in the snow in Massachusetts, whereas the "huddled in the snow" part is right but the "few hundred" was wrong. It was what he calls The Great Migration and the Puritans who were organizing this exodus from England were looking for specific people who were morally and physically strong and alloted land regardless of social status, altho the larger the household (including servants) the bigger the plot. To a working man in the 1630's who hadn't a hope of getting land of his own in England, the promise of 50 acres free must have been a real draw. Maybe they did teach this but I don't remember it.

Finished Women's work, the first 20.000 Years and it should be read by every weaver, if not by every woman. It is a history of weaving and what I really found fascinating was that a tensioned loom (like a backstrap) wasn't invented much earlier than it was. Weighted looms were all the rage in prehistory, and linen was the most common for most of the Middle East and Egypt. Starting to make fabric out of linen on a weighted loom sounds all too hard for me. No wonder women got the job. My new BBB is Enough by Bill McKibben. which put me off at first because it begins by talking about genetically modifying humans. That couldn't really happen, I said to myself, then he led you down one of those slippery slopes where one starts by curing disease and ends with designer babies. He uses as an example human growth hormone which was derived to treat a rare medical condition and then was seriously abused for other purposes. As medical technology becomes cheaper, it becomes more possible. Would I like to eliminate the gene that causes kerataconus from my hypothetical child (Charlotte if a girl, Michael if a boy)? You bet I would. How about changing the body shape that I share with my mother and sister which leads us to constant fruitless dieting? Tempting.

I also raced through three Janet Evonovich novels in record time but they are like chocolates. I only wonder that Stephanie had survived so long with nothing more than singed hair, exploding cars, and torn clothes.

P.S. the Weather Pixie seems to be having hardware problems and comes and goes. If it has permanently gone I'll put another weath link on like the Bureau of Meteorology.

It's getting very close to July 1 and J thinks my body is subconsciously feeling it, although I am not too depressed in my conscious mind. I'm certainly not very cheery since all I can say is this is not the life I pictured for myself and I still feel horribly wounded when the Bear was ripped from me. I've screwed up everything I could in the past week and feel like I'm a walking accident. J is coming over in the night of July 1 to keep me occupied and the other J is going out the lunch with me the day after. I am so glad I have friends to support me, even though at the end of the day I'm still alone and feeling it deeply.

I also had lunch yesterday with M and C for a girl chat and C came over to my house afterwards for an "airing of the stash". I managed to offload to her a whole plastic box full of assorted yarns. She knits for kids and she also knit toys so lots of little bits and pieces went to her. I even gave her my green and gold handspun so she could think of something to knit with it. I kept pulling out handspun and realized I really should knit with some of it, so I am putting the saddle shoulder cardigan back in the queue and am going to knit a warm jacket out of assorted greys from handspun. I would like to think I can do it before I go overseas but I don't knit very fast. I'd like one with a zip front. I even offloaded sock yarn (gasp). The red and white hat is almost finished. I have the final row and then the finishing to do. I actually liked the pattern and wouldn't mind knitting it again. I am also going to start summer knitting with a shell/tank from Choo-Choo ribbon yarn from Crystal Palace.

The family history business sucks me in. I am on One Great Family which links you to other contributed family trees so my meager knowledge has been linked to others going back 13 generations. I haven't fully looked at the whole tree yes, and this is just 2 of the branches from my mother's side. I got stuck with "Tyler" which was my great-grandmother's maiden name. What has blown me away is that I am linked to some of the earliest settlers in Massachusetts and Canada. When you learn all this early colonial history in school it sort of become a soup and to think that my distant relatives were in the very first settlers in the New World is just fascinating to me. I've got a couple of books out of the Library to learn more. I never thought when the Bear and I were touring Jamestown, that my ancestors were landing in Massachusetts not long after. I'd like to learn what it was like to live then. I assume because of the early date they were religious refugees, which would tie to the family myth on my father's side that we were early Congregationalists (Puritans) in Connecticut which I now know was superficially fiction. My grandparents only joined the Old Stone Church shortly before my father was born.

I know, again. I have been trying to run at full speed for the past week or so, trying to crank up my metabolism and burn some calories. I don't know whether that part's working but I am doing a lot. I bought an apple tree with 3 different varieties grafted to the one tree. So I had to dig a hole to put it in. This would have been a Bear task but I had to try and do it myself. I got it planted although I don't think I dug deep enough. There is a limit to how far I can dig. I chose one of those annoying jogs in the back paved area (These people never made anything straight when they could add an angle) and eliminated some lawn as well. I also bought a grafted citrus with lemon and orange but I haven't potted it out yet (it's in a pot but the apple was bare rooted) because I'd like to put it in a half barrel. I've killed a lot of lemon trees so fingers crossed. The little darling has already produced a good sized lemon. Speaking of lemons, I got a shopping bag full of lemons from a work friend and have made 2 batches of honey-lemon jelly. It takes almost a kg of honey to make a batch of jelly, which is 3 small jars. I shall have to try and see if one can stir it directly into tea when you have a cold. Since it only has honey, lemon juice and pectin in it I would think so. I am going to have to learn about preventing fruit fly because apples, citrus and pears are all targets.

I have been knitting furiously on the Komi hat in an attempt to finish it before the Swans match in Canberra this weekend but I don't think I'll make it. The Swannies are playing quite well (altho kicking accuracy is still a problem) and are in the top 4 at the moment.

That little venture into family history has become an obsession. I've added great chunks to my mother's side of the family about which I knew little. I've traced various branches back to Germany and Ulster in Northern Ireland. It's fascinating to think that these people were the pioneers in the US, going out to settle in Indian land in the 1700's and 1800's. Also the trend in migration from the east coast into the middle frontier of Pennsylvania and then on to Michigan and Wisconsin. My grandfather's family all came from Elgin County, Canada and are represented in the cemetery there. Goodness, I'm one quarter Canadian, altho my grandfather told the census takers he was German despite being born in Canada. I have to keep myself from doing more searches now that there are so many sources, like cemetery records, online.

It's also soup weather and I made (very) roasted pumpkin soup, which unfortunately took my last pumpkins. Then they were selling huge cauliflowers at the markets for $1.50, so I had to make another pot of curried cauliflower soup. I coaxed the bread machine to produce a loaf of dark rye but it's not as good as its white breads. I may have to replace the bread machine when I can afford it.

I vowed I was going to start weaving today and I did. So many threading errors of the silly type (2 threads right next to each other) which don't show up when you just check for a clean shed. My sett is Way too loose so it won't be very sturdy. It did give me that foolish idea of weaving drapery cloth again but I need to weave something before I go off to school in October. I know all the principles; but executing them down to the finest detail is difficult especially when your errors don't show up until everything is tied on. Perhaps I should try heavier weft.

Where have I been, I hear you ask. I've been to Brisbane to visit the Bear's sister and brother-in-law. Despite Queensland for the most part denying it's the sunshine state, it was a good visit. I got to spend time with these lovely folks who are now one of the tiny groups who are my family. We got along well, I was stuffed senseless with seafood, and I got to hear some stories about the Bear's life before we met. I also took up to them, because his sister teaches science, the scientific memorabilia he left me. His notebook of data from one of his ballooning trips, and some additional photos. And a box of photos which seem to mostly be from his days in boarding school. And his port cask which was given to him by his friends at ADFA when he left. J&G are wine-lovers so we had long discussions about wine and I brought up 2 bottles which we polished off. G was so impressed by one he went online to buy a case. J tends to bury herself in a book whenever possible so I spent more face time with G, and it turns out we have quite a bit in common. I look forward to more visits up north but not during the summer!

I came home to damp and chilly Canberra and back to work. The girls didn't seem to have minded that I left them, but I had one night with both of them in bed which gets a bit crowded because the Imp turns to acting out to express her resentment of the Senior Cat and I spend most of the night wrestling with her. I am sorely tempted to throw her out some nights but then she'd just scratch at the door. G&J have a male blue Burmese who was much more even and mild tempered than the Imp and even had softer fur. He instantly decided that mine was the lap of preference and hardly left me alone.

I got in the mail from Elann the first yarn I had bought in 18 months: Shibu by Ella Rae which is 90% silk in a boysenberry pink/purple, and Berocco Cotton Twist, both to make sleeveless summer shells. I have been knitting diligently on tho Komi hat and made to the heel of the first sock in Opal puce and white w/black dots while watching Dr. Zhivago with G. By the time I finish this hat I may charge directly into summer stuff.

I took advantage of having access to the Library's free access to Ancestry and found a few bits and pieces more about my mother's side of the family. Still haven't a clue what the D in my grandfather's middle name stands for. His 1930 census entry has my grandmother named at Lottie which is why it is hard to locate and my mother's name is spelled wrong.

All I seem to think about these days is money. I went to a retirement planning seminar at work and they had a few exercises for you to do on budgeting and planning expenses and the reality of losing the Bear's salary became very graphic. I will have to tighten the belt further. Good thing I decided not to get my knees replaced. Fortunately there is nothing I want to buy, not even books. I have enough of all my art materials and books to last me quite a awhile and podcasts are free and that's what I listen to most of the time. I can't afford to retire so I better hope that Lyrica doesn't show any nastier side effects than I've seen so far (nausea). I can easily not pay attention to nausea because it's an old friend with chronic pain. I have an ophthalmologist appointment tomorrow to inspect my retinas for damage and look at my corneal grafts to see that they are OK. I hope I can get a ruling on swimming because I would really like the chance when I go on holiday later this year, and so far I've been under the warning that I shouldn't because the risk of picking up an infection in my eyes is too great.

I've been knitting the Komi hat. 7 repeats of 30 stitches in four-ply colour work. It takes a while to get around 210 red and white stitches. Progress is slow but steady. Nothing else being worked on.

Got new strawberry plants in the mail to replace some that always go to nothing after a few years. I wish I could afford a tree pruner in to take out a few dead trees, and perhaps the monster juniper at the front door which is starting to heave the pavers. But then I'd like to repair the front verandah before somebody falls through it but not without money.

I'm sick. Just a cold which, as usual hit first with my losing my voice. There are, I'm sure, people who rejoice when I can only whisper or croak, but I didn't get the chance to have anybody I know gloat at me today. I was supposed to go to a wine & cheese tasting held by the Canberra branch of the slow foods people but I didn't think that would be very productive, in the sense of meeting new people, when I couldn't talk. Besides, of all the local wineries possible, the one chosen was 3/4 of the way to Goulburn and their reds cost the earth (that's what they are famous for) and I can't drink red wine (instant migraine). I did get up and go to the chemist (needed a script filled today) and dragged myself through the supermarket (needed cat food). And find myself standing there debating the pros and cons of bathroom cleaners (store brand vs.brand name vs. "green" vs super-powered and the prices of each) and wonder why do we have to have a choice of 15 bathroom cleaners? Is this what keeps the great capitalist economies turning over? Why do I feel the need for ethical debate with myself over every item that I buy? I cannot raise all my own food even not eating and red meat except for kangaroo. (And don't get me started about the people holding candle-lit vigil because the navy is "culling" kangaroos on their land in the middle of Belconnen because the roos have overpopulated and are in danger of starving to death. Have these people seen the daily road toll in kangaroos on the main road I drive to work? Last time I counted 6 dead in one 5 km stretch. They are starving and trying to reach feed). I do try to buy and eat local, but all fish comes via the Sydney fish markets, all apples are out of cold storage, well, you get my drift. I really think and care about these things but it can all get a bit overwhelming at times.

I have been knitting hats. Don't ask why, don't know. Produced 2 and gave one away and am now back at the Komi hat out of Hat's On! which has Turkish inspired colour work on it and so far so good. Spun a bobbin of dusty rose BFL. Will do another & ply. The first 100% alpaca yarn looks acceptable and I'm pleased with myself. Must spin more to take on the trip for BFLB.

Round 9: We won! I had a few panicky minutes there when I doubted, but we beat Port Adelaide in Adelaide. I only watched the second half and I hope it wasn't screaming over the footy that brought on my sore throat. The cats had forgotten what happens when Mummy watches footy and exploded off my lap when I yelled when Mick kicked a beauty. There was also a segment on 60 Minutes about poor old rugby league losing territory to AFL in Sydney. Boo hoo. Big boofs. AFL is so much more fun to watch that no wonder people love it and there aren't many rugby league players in SA or WA or Tassie, just NSW & Qld. Now that is being challenged and they are worried that their "crowds" of 16,000 matches attendees will dwindle even further.

I read Abby's ode to her mother and was so touched. I wish I had an inspiring mother whom I wanted to say such nice things about. I loved my mother very much but she had many flaws. She did fantastic needlework and I was taught to sew as soon as I could hold a needle. I went from making doll clothes to making all my own clothes from Vogue patterns when I was in high school. I made numerous quilts, mostly sold or given away, lots of cross stitch (ditto). She taught me to knit and crochet but never taught me how to read a pattern so I was OK as long as it was rectangular. She did beautiful crewel embroidery (there is a bell pull with pansies on it in front of me) and knit me sweaters I still wear (except she refused to believe my arms were really as long as they are so the sleeves are usually short). She was also an excellent baker and I still can't match her pie crust. I think she would have been a better cook if my father didn't have such a limited menu of dishes he would eat. When he was away we had forbidden luxuries like lasagne. I am sorry she waited too long to go to the doctor about the lump in her breast so she died at the relatively young age of 74. But she also had schleroderma and it was beginning to cause her problems with her eyes and internal organs and I am willing to bet that got no sympathy from my father. Is there a genetic link that ties into my RA? Who knows. She was equally unhappy with our forced move to Florida but she had a knack for making friends that far exceeds mine. I was shy and convinced I was stupid and ugly and fat so making friends was not my strong suit. I hope she would have been proud of me and I wish she had been happier.

Today's dedication is to BFLB. Above is the shawl that you saw earlier in its unblocked state I especially like that it is designed so it wraps completely around me and is anchored in the back so I am not struggling with it all day and I can wear into the stacks where I may be either on a step-stool or standing on my head. The yarn is some hand-dyed handspun I bought at a guild sale that I knew I could never do justice to. It's not obvious from the photo, but it's a variegated purpley eggplant/dark blue. I love it and thanks again.

The next two are the result of yarn gifts from BFLB. I am so lucky when she wants to clean out her stash. Left is most recently finished socks out of Mountain Colors Bearfoot in lovely deep cerise, purple, blue. Right is Sakiori II vest from Chryl Oberle's Folk Vests knit from a variegated wool single from CMD. While it is superficially simple in construction, I didn't like how the neckband/collar was knitted in. I think I would have preferred knitting it separately and sewing it in so I could ease into squareness. The yarn I don't believe is hand/random dyed so you get some weird pooling effects.

Both cats are basking in the dining room. This too has a link to BFLB. When we brought the Senior cat home from the RSPCA in January 1992, the first thing that happened was a phone call from across the world, so BFLB was right there when we named the Senior cat, As a kitten the SC was adorable, and has a white tip to her tail which is very good for chasing. When I was attempting to do consulting work from home she wore me out demanding attention and preferably vigorous play. She'd chase a shoe lace forever and loved jumping; even as she grew up she preferred a vulture-like pose on the top of the china cabinet and thought nothing of jumping down in one leap. To see her so frail and creaky with arthritis is just another reminder of how time keeps passing, no matter what we would prefer.

I felt honored yesterday to subvert a novice into the dark side to spinning. We have a student doing a rotation through the Library and she somehow told my boss she was into knitting so of course, spinning lessons followed. I loaned her my Kundert drop spindle and gave her some wool and basic instructions, including pointers to the many spinning videos now on You Tube. Then I took her on a run to the Guild as I had books to return, where she bought more fiber. Sometimes I think I should get a commission. I was very pleasantly surprised to see young women with infants and even someone with a table loom, so perhaps there will be a generational change in the Guild.

As I type, I have alpaca in the washtub, but not the free stuff. This is one of 2 bags of raw fawn alpaca I bought online long before I knew I was going to be given masses. I am very very slowly re-arranging thing in the back bedroom to make it work as a studio and to find the top of my dining room table.

Two steps forward and one step back. The new medication, Lyrica, is wonderful. The pain level, especially muscle pain has been dialed way down. I hesitate to make estimates on how much better I feel, but it's a lot. The vertigo and drowsiness were side effects of Neurontin. My rheumatologist warned me that it was twice as expensive as Neurontin but it isn't; it's about the same price. So yesterday I took off and walked distances I never would have attempted before, was the first to see my GP at 7AM without the horrible starts to the day I've had before, went out to lunch with J, and then bought a new phone since mine has been behaving weirdly and I've hated it from the day the Bear bought it for me (without asking me for my input), bought local apples, and came home fine. I did get hit with a wave of fatigue about 6PM and laid down for an hour, but then got up and flicked carded raw alpaca while I watched Hero (first series) and Battlestar Gallactica: Razor. Today it is cold (high of 14C) and wet and windy and my arthritis is complained but not the muscles. My hands are crook, but we knew that, didn't we. So, better but not "healed." That's never going to happen. I watched an elderly couple in the chemist's this morning and they were so frail that she couldn't put her glasses into her handbag and went home by taxi, which was a long walk for them just to get to the taxi. May I never get that far. I don't know what's happening inside their heads but I hope their life is enjoyable inside and not just acting as the pilot light. I would never want to be that helpless.

So I will allow myself to have a rest day, because there's precious little I can do that I need to do with sore hands. Get of the damn computer and lie down under the doona with a book. Currently Stephen Baxter's The Time Ships which is old but I have never read. It is a sequel to The Time Machine, written in perfect Victorian language. We will not talk about how the early version of the movie for the Time Machine was a movie that terrified me as a child (and the Bear loved threatening me with that, like he did with Dead Calm, another movie that scares me even when I know what's going to happen). It goes along with my fear of giant squid (20,000 Leagues under the Sea)which The Bear also loved to tease me with. When the folks across the ditch (NZ) thawed a frozen giant squid recently I knew he would be there needling me. I miss that even so.

Well, folks, I got some feedback from my rheumatologist today that wasn't entirely unexpected but really wasn't what I wanted. It seems I have run out of options in trying to lessen my pain and improve my general health. My wrists are "worn out", there is one new alternative pain drug I can try which is twice as expensive as the one I take now, but my only real option to live a life without the unrelenting pain, lack of sleep, and continuing to miss work, is to retire. I could go for full disability, but by the time the wheels of bureaucracy chew through that, I will be 60 which can be retirement age in terms of the ability to access my Australian superannuation (pension) funds. I was surprised to realize that I have worked more years in Australia than I have in the US, where I can't touch my pension till I'm 65. I will have get in touch with the super fund and try to get a ball park figure of what my income will be and how much of it will be taxable (as a public servant a portion is taxable but I have never been able to figure out what portion and how much). In the meantime I will not hoard my leave as much as I have been and will take it when I need it. I haven't touched my long service leave, and will take the first of it when I go to the states. I will have to make sacrifices but I think when I can control my own schedule and not have to cram activities into "spare" time, I will be better (i.e., in less pain and less tired). There may be a lot less knitting (or slower) and much less computer work because I know that's what has really been the death of my right thumb and wrist. No volunteer work at the library either. Whether the garden can still be maintained without doing myself in, if I can do it piece-meal, we'll have to see. I may be forced to move into a smaller house, which is what the renovations have been done for, to make the house sellable. Not completely finished there but better. If I could only sell the land in Victoria but property isn't moving at the moment. My boss has been encouraging me to do this and I have been resisting because I do love my job, but it has been so hard to get going in the morning since it got cold. I wake up in agony and it takes much longer for my meds to kick in.

Maybe I need a review of the stash in light of what's weaving material. I don't think I'll be knitting much cotton but it can be woven. I also need to consider the blog.

This is I swear my last sock yarn purpose this year. I have unsubscribed to all the lists and newsletters that tell me about sales and other offers to try and keep temptation away. This is The Painted Sheep's sock yarn in the colourway Berrylicious anf I can't begin to list all the berry colours included. I have almost finished the Mountain Colors socks so I will be forced to pick a new one soon. So much sock yarn and so little time. I also have finished the Sakiori II vest but have no photos since I haven't blocked it. I say at this point that it's shorter than I would have liked but I have another short vest that works with the suitable under garment. I have 3 huge hanks of the beautiful yarn left and not a clue what to knit with them. I have cast on for a simple hat out of Ann Budd's book of patterns using some of the hand spun green yarn left over from the baby cardigan I knit for my penpal's grand-daughter. After that I have a ball of Noro Transitions waiting to be turned into a hat. This is not putting off one of my in the queue projects, just I feel like getting a few finished small things done.

I did myself in again last Sunday because it was the last day of two major textile shows. The Guild's annual show "Warped and Twisted" was on and I felt I needed to show my face. I'm not in awe of the weaving any more because now I know how it's done and there wasn't anything that knocked my socks off. It was nice to see woven chenille and bamboo because it's always helpful to know what a project might look like had I any bamboo to weave with. I was especially glad I went at that precise moment because I ran into J, a friend from last year's weaving class, whom I had been trying to link up with. She has finished her PhD dissertation and therefore not chained to her books at long last, but also unemployed. I look forward to a further catching up session.

Prior to that I went to the combination of 3 exhibits on display for the Tapestry 2008 at the ANU. There was the juried show called "Land" and had some very striking and sometimes small in size but deep in texture tapestries. Then there was a large exhibition of tapestries of all sizes and shapes from international artists some of which I really liked and some just weren't my cup of tea. Then in the foyer was a knockout display of Lao tapestries and the silk ones just took my breath away.

So standing staring at textile art for an hour or so followed by 20 minutes catching up with J and then I came home and planted the native shrubs in the front that I had bought the previous weekend. Then I planted what was left of my silverbeet seedlings, which now have been mangled by the neighbourhood cats thinking I had turned the soil for them. I might have to replant a new lot and get them established without possum or cat intervention. When I came in I fell into bed and stayed there till 4.30 on Monday, unable to move with the pain in my legs just impossible. I used my handheld massage machine and it helped a little bit but not a miracle cure. 24 hours of bed rest was the cure. Have I mentioned I hate fibromyalgia and it tying my muscles in knots?

OK, so here's what I think about in the dark of night when I am trying not to cry and I miss him so much and I know that there will never be another man who will approach what we had together. I think a lot of "what if" and "If only" scenarios which are totally counterproductive but I'm not ready to let go and besides I haven't even been through a year without him and I don't even remember the first 3 months. If only when he was in Cleveland and consorting with library school students somehow there would be a library science/physics event where I could have met this gorgeous Australian guy with the sexiest voice ever, right when we each were between Spouse No. 1 and Spouse No. 2, or rather we would have become each other's spouse no. 2. And he would have gone on long ballooning adventures and I would get mad at him and kick him out. Or we would have had beautiful but genetically malformed children who would all go blind like me or get one of the other genes I carry (which is why now I am glad I never had kids to stop a few genetic anomalies in their tracks). Not that I was ever very baby oriented but he was and I loved him so much that I would have done it. What a different life we would have had. A very different life where I didn't have to find him by first falling in love with AFL and then falling in love with Australia and then finding him via the University of Melbourne football pool. A life where I didn't live in my dream job for all those years and didn't fall in and out of love with Spouse No. 2. A life where I didn't meet all those people in the US whom I deeply miss right now and spending a day or a week with them will not make up for missing them for the past 17 years. A life where I wouldn't have met all the people here who have supported me and loved me for the past 17 years and are the only reason I have made it through the last 10 months. A life where I didn't even knit, for heaven's sake! There are some ties that distance has enhanced, like I am closer to both my half-brothers than I ever was in the US even when my father had finally loosened his grip on our getting together. Would I have been sending my brothers email in this parallel universe? Would I have stayed married to Spouse no. 2? I just want me dear Bear back and I keep seeing him in that hospital room, still warm, but not with us any more. What if I had really thrown a tantrum years ago and stopped him drinking? What if I had rung his ex and told her to f*** off and stop using his children to punish him or whatever mind games she was playing that messed him up so bad. For that matter why do the children believe they are due some prize for having the father they never cared about die before he could give them more money they didn't deserve. I never got a cent from my father for anything and certainly didn't think of demanding he write a will in my favour even when I thought he was being foolish. I worked my bum off and got scholarships and part time jobs and such to pay for my education and didn't expect any handouts at all once I had a job (and got none to be sure).

I better go to bed before I get too specific to be anonymous. I'm in pain, both physical and mental, I wonder how I am going to get through the rest of my life without him when all our plans were made to grow old together chasing roos out of the vegetable patch and parrots out of the fruit trees in sunny Victoria.

Sometimes I get a feeling that I've created a monster, that this blog is very demanding, that there is an audience out there in the cyberworld who expect something from me. While it's nice to be wanted and I know family and friends are part of my "audience" they can't make up the numbers I see in my blog stats. I could babble about the mundane details of my life (my trip to K-Mart), I want to keep content here both interesting and anonymous so sometimes I just can't say what I'm thinking about. This past week was a very down one for me and I spent a lot of time missing him, trying by sheer effort of will to get one more hug from him. Of course that's stupid and in many ways I have progressed down this road called grieving and have developed a one person routine. Even tho my dear MIL is there and talks to me most nights, and my friends are a big help, nobody can replace him. I know it, I'm working on dealing with it, but sometimes that's all I'm capable of doing and blogging doesn't get a chance.
This photo is to prove that the Imp does play in the bathtub. I'm not going to show you pictures of the completed project; it looks fairly minimalist now being all white and grey but It may be a rejection of the mess it was. I can't believe how huge it seems with the wall down between the toilet and bath. I know the separate toilet has its fans in Australia and I can understand the benefits of being able to use the bath while some (probably male and with a newspaper) is camped in the toilet, but the amazing space that removing the wall has produced is worth it.

A short rant about about tradesmen. They show up when it's convenient for them, not you (7AM?), make a horrible mess which some of them try to clean up but none do a complete job, and make you feel stupid about everything you ask for. The skylight guy today showed up early (he "forgot" the meeting we had for Weds) and, as I had expected, the frame didn't fit because I measured the wrong place in the skylight because of his inadequate description of what he wanted measured. His solution was to saw off part of the frame around the skylight, right then, over my exposed benchspace, no warning to move things out of the way, just the ending comment of "good thing you had the vacuum cleaner out". There were pieces of wood and sawdust everywhere and I wonder if I had left food out whether he'd have continued. That will be the last of them for a awhile. [the Imp is in my lap and is trying very hard to sleep with her chin on my arm which is way too high for her to be comfortable but she's settled in]

Two old sock photos since I have just a bit to go till I have new sock photos to share. At left is my first Opal socks and they have had many years of wear. At right are the socks I knit out of my very first hand dyed, hand spun and are too pretty to wear. Sorry about the lurid background but my quilt cover is a Sheridan that was the Bear's but turns out it matches my Oriental very well. The rug isn't really "Oriental" but a handmade wool rug made I think in Morocco. It was in the house my father bought when we moved to Florida and was the only thing I wanted when he moved out. He was going to sell it until he got it valued. I will find a photo or take another as it is one of my prized possessions. It's under my bed because cats (not just this one) like to wrestle with it and have already destroyed the fringe. The new guest bedroom is coming together and once I move the chest of drawers out of the former guest bedroom, serious sorting out will begin. I bought picture frames for 3 reproduction Japanese woodblock prints from a calendar that will go on one wall of the guest bedroom. I can't decide whether the large Arthur Streeton print will stay down the back where I will look at it through the big loom or whether it will move. If you want to know which one go here. It was bought in 1986 on our first trip to Melbourne and someday I'd like to see it in the flesh.