Remember When I Used To Knit?

Oh yeah! That's still happening here!

Next week we'll be getting back to our regularly scheduled blogging. In the meantime, I thought I would share with you this week a few of the things that have been happening over the last few weeks. Believe it or not, it's not all been crazy! (Although it has been crazy a lot....perils of family living.)

First up - more mini-socks! As you know, I make one to match each pair of socks I knit. This is my latest crop...knit during my tummy bug a couple of weeks ago. Cute, n'est pas? Not much to say about them, other than I can't wait to see what my handwork Christmas tree looks like this year with two new groups!

Fiber Dreams

This is what I've been thinking about.

Rather than indulging, though, I've been working on Christmas Knits....which are satisfying in their own way.

I've had a rather odd day. It's been one of those days where I have felt ever so slightly off-kilter. I've cried a bit, I've laughed a bit, I've wanted to curl up and sleep and I've wanted some quiet time. Tomorrow I'm sure I shall be fine once again. It happens.

In the meantime, I feel I must answer the burning question of the day.

So where was Tigger?

All along, the facts in the case of the missing Tigger just didn't match up. We were convinced he wasn't in the home because we had searched so thoroughly in vain (and I can't stress enough how thorough we were...nor how many times I searched!). However, the ONLY place we had gone was the Health Department, and they distinctly remembered us leaving with him. (By the way, Kudos to them for both taking me so seriously and also taking the time to search the office for me.) We had decided that the only thing that could have happened was that the Pixie had dropped him either on the way to the car - or from the car as the automatic door was shutting. Neither one of those made a lot of sense because A. Tigger has a rattle inside and I would have heard it and/or B. the child who had just received a shot would surely have kicked up a fuss.

After more than a week, I had given up all hope.

I was also growing increasingly more worried about Pixie's attempts to adjust to life without her beloved Tigger. She was definitely not sleeping well - having accidents and waking repeatedly in the night - which is highly unlike her usual peaceful self. She had taken to sleeping with my old Panda bear, but in the night I knew he just wasn't what she needed. Surprisingly, she only mentioned Tigger twice in the entire week....but she was definitely a subdued child.

With all of that in mind, I went to put her to bed Friday night. She wanted to find a book, so I sat down on the floor next to her bed for what promised to be a long process. While she was going through her options, my gaze fell to the old wooden chest in her corner that is the home to the rest of her stuffed animals. I rather absently took in the pile of fluff, wondering at the mess that the pile was.

That's when something registered in my mind. There was a bit of dirty, faded orange under the chest. Hardly daring to hope, I reached over....and pulled Tigger out from under the chest.

Now, I have no idea why I hadn't found him before...when I know I searched that pile of stuffed animals and that chest along with the rest of the room. I had even crawled around on my hands and knees, looking under every piece of furniture multiple times. It's a mystery to me...although it does prove once again the old adage that you find something only when you stop looking for it.

Life with Tigger is now back to normal, although he's no longer allowed outside of the house under any circumstances. We're going to give Pixie a few weeks to enjoy him, and then we are going to try to wean her away...perhaps luring her to a new beloved....so that I can carefully tuck Tigger away. Some things are just too precious to let slip away again.

Guess Who Came Home! (And There Was Great Rejoicing....For Real!)

10 Blessings...No Wait, 15!

Thank you to you all for such warm wishes! I really appreciate your support after all of the craziness last week, and I hope you know it meant the world to me.

I thought I would take a moment today to count some blessings. It seems appropriate, don't you think?

1. I'm quite happy to report that the effects of Kiera's stroke have mostly worn off. She's left with a bit of a balance problem, but in light of the fact that she was bounding after squirrels this morning we're just not going to worry about it. (She's also resumed counter surfing, as evidenced by a spoon and a clean yogurt container found in the living room....)
2. Also, while the meds are still messing with my tummy I have discovered that my regular dose of cardio in the morning generally clears it up. Go gym!
3. My girls both attend wonderful schools and have very talented, loving teachers.
4. I finished another shawl on Sunday! Pictures to come, promise.
5. As of yesterday morning, I've dropped under a significant number on the scales. I hadn't seen this number since half way through my first pregnancy. So far....26 lbs gone!
6. Celestial Seasoning's Candy Cane Lane tea is back in the stores.
7. I have a rice bag, which I use to warm my feet at night. We keep the house chilly (65-70), and it makes all the difference in the world.
8. Mom let my sister-in-law and I hijack the Thanksgiving menu.
9. My husband grew a beard to please me. I think he's devastatingly handsome with a beard, and I love it when he indulges me!
10. We have a wonderful church family, and I'm very glad to be a part of that community.
11. I've totally managed to hook my kids onto the Glee soundtrack, which makes life a lot easier for me. There's only so many times I can hear the practice CD from the Christmas Pageant before I go stark raving mad. Even better, they are now developing choreographed routines.
12. My husband complimented me Sunday as the girls and I got ready to leave for church. For the first time in my life, not only did I believe him when he told me that I looked good, but I also felt that I deserved the compliment. (Although, I'm not sure "hot" was what I was going for!)
13. My library has downloadable audiobooks. Soooo cool!
14. I've been eating Brussels Sprouts almost every day for the last week. Have I mentioned before how much I LOVE Brussels Sprouts!
15. My trainer gave me a couple of challenges relating to My Daily Plate, and rewarded me with two free sessions for succeeding.

I could go on and on and on and on....but we'll leave it for that for now. Life really is good!

It's Been A Rough Week

Apparently I've been worried about the wrong pet.

Last night my dog, Kiera, had what appeared to be a minor seizure. This is really nothing to worry about as she has a history of them going back over the last 6 or 7 years. They've always been very mild - as in she retains awareness and isn't thrashing on the floor - and they've always disappeared after a few minutes. I stay with her to make sure that she's calm, rush her outdoors right afterwords so that she can go to the bathroom, and then I call my parents so that they can put the event in her medical records.

But last night she went into what I thought was a second seizure less than 30 minutes after the first. When it hadn't stopped at 10 minutes I got worried and called my Dad. We were on the phone for about ten minutes - during which time the symptoms didn't stop. Dad gave me the diagnosis when I described the fact that her eyebrows and eyes were twitching...which was something I hadn't seen before in her seizures.

Long story short, my dog had a "cerebrovascular accident" of some sort last night. That's a big, fancy word that means one of three things. She either had a stroke, has a leaking aneurysm or has a brain tumor. Yes, I could take her to a fancy vet clinic and have an MRI done to determine what the problem is. However, as much as I love my dog I am a realist. There's very little that can be done to help her with any of those diagnosis.....it would only serve to run up a huge vet bill. (Someday, I'll give you my rant about the ridiculous lengths people go to these days to help their pets because they have forgotten that they are not people.) What this all boils down to is that she's old...and you can't cure old.

As of this morning, Kiera is still fighting her symptoms. Her personality and general mood haven't altered at all - she's still the same sweet, loving dog that she's always been - but if you didn't know any better you'd think she was drunk because of the way that she's moving around. She is, perhaps, sticking closer to me than normal....but that's too be expected. We'll start her on a daily aspirin protocol, and we've blocked off the stairs so that she can't accidentally fall down them. For the time being we're taking her out to the front yard or are carrying her to the back so that she can do her business. It's possible that in a day or two this could all clear up. It's also possible that she could go downhill quickly. You just never know.

Sorry this blog has been such a downer this week. My stress levels are much higher than they've been in a very long while. On top of Tigger, a tummy bug that I had earlier this week, a trip to the doc and subsequent antibiotic madness in my already-abused tummy, and my dog we also have connections to a horrific news story this week that has left us all shaken. I'm going to take some time today to regroup and then hopefully we can move on and things will get better.

Dear Tigger,

(Picture taken in July....the most recent we have.)

Dear Tigger,

I wish I knew where you were.

The last time I remember seeing you was Wednesday morning at the Health Department. I made the mistake of allowing the Pixie to take you in - figuring she would need the extra comfort for her vaccination - and I remember talking to the nurse about you. In fact, she gave my daughter Tigger and Pooh stickers because of you. I'm not sure what happened next. We realized you were missing at bedtime, and for some reason I just knew that this time you were really gone...that Toots hadn't just set you down in an odd place in the house. I was up all night worrying about both you and my daughter. When I did sleep I had bad dreams. You're awefully special to us all, and this is a terrible thing to have happened.


Tigger, you've been a part of our family for three years. You were a Christmas present from my husband's father to my wee Pixie...in celebration of her very first Christmas. None of us had any idea at the time of how important you would become. There was no indication that you were anything but another stuffed animal that would be loved intensely for a while and then set aside. I'm still not sure of how the magic happened.


What I do know is that a few months later the magic did happen. The girls and I had gone for a weekend with my parents, and Pixie and I were having a rough night. My sweet baby who never had sleep problems was struggling in an unfamiliar crib. I was exhausted, and more than a bit perplexed. The child who never needed comforting was hard to help because even she didn't know what she needed! Out of desperation, I took you and snuggled you up next to her. I remember watching with deep amazement as she pulled you close and then calmed down and went right to sleep. For the rest of our visit, every time she fussed in the night I just scooched you closer and you instantly helped her relax.


From then on, the two of you were inseparable. Being the smart parents we were, as soon as we figured out how attached our baby was we bought a second Tigger. For a long while we were able to trade you back and forth....although attempts to add another two Tiggers into the mix failed. At a year old, Toots was too wise for that. We were amused when we figured out that what she really wanted of you was to rub your ear and smell you. You were always being held right to her face, and she refused to go anywhere without you. When she started talking you became 'Tig Tig'. I'll fess up..it was a hard thing to take when she started to call you by your full name because it was a sign that my baby was growing up. Then - about a year and a half ago - she rejected the second Tigger as being, "The Other," while you became, "My Real." I don't think there's ever been a bigger love affair between a child and her favorite toy before. We always knew that she would be ok so long as you were there for her.

Your stripes were long gone, your ear was shredded through much love, there was a hole in your neck and you had no more stuffing in your head. Yet, you were one of the most beautiful creatures in our home and in her heart.


I suspect that you quietly slipped away because Pixie just doesn't need you so much anymore. I'd noticed that since school started she rarely carried you around the house anymore, and while she did still insist on taking you with her around town it was becoming increasingly more rare of an occurrence. Perhaps you knew that it was time for her to move on, or perhaps you didn't want to stick around until you felt rejection. I have to hope that you knew what you were doing.

In all honesty, I think your disappearance has hurt me more than it's hurt my child. After all, I am the woman who slept with the same stuffed Snoopy from the age of 3 until I traded him in for a husband. Just as he was (and is) real to me, so are you. It upsets me to think of you as being cold and alone. Yes, I'm being a very silly grown up, but that's just the way it is. I know we were going to have to wean the Pixie from you soon, but I had wanted to gently tuck you away for her so that she would always have you around. We adults are awfully attached to our childhood loves.

So here we are, two days later, and I've done everything in my power to find you. I called the health department and went by to check in person. They remember you clearly, and were sure that you hadn't been left behind. We tore apart the house and car, and I was out in the backyard with a flashlight at 11 pm the night you went missing. You're just gone, and I'm going to have to accept that.

So far the Pixie hasn't been too upset. We let the girls go to sleep together in our room on the first night, which was a huge distraction for her. Last night I let her take my Snoopy to bed, which was also a big treat. I can tell that she's upset, though, and she does ask about you. The first thing she said to me yesterday morning was that she was sad because she lost you. She gets quiet and wants to be held, and I wonder what's going on in her head and her heart.

In my heart of hearts I believe you've gone to that special place where beloved toys go to become real. I'm a great believer in the Velveteen Rabbit's story, and just know that somewhere you are bouncing and happy...with fresh stripes and a newly plush coat. Or perhaps you were found by a child who needed you more. Either way, I wish you well. Thank you so much for everything that you did for us, and please know that you will always be loved.

Love,
Kristin

Back To The Crafty Stuff

Rest assured, creative stuff has been happening here at Chez Green Woman. Here you see the things that have been amusing me for most of the last week....my new Prairy Rose Shawl and more mini-socks! The mini-socks are just plain fun, and I do need to catch up so that I have a bunch of new ones for my HandWork Christmas Tree this year. The shawl...well there's a story involved that I will tell when I debut the finished object.

Senior Big Stuff was unimpressed with the knitting today. He did, however, like the fact that he had a warm body to cozy up to for most of the afternoon.

FYI - I am NOT one of those bloggers who feels a need to discuss her pets normally. HOWEVER, Tynan is approximately 17 years old and has been on insulin for about 5 1/2 years. He's doing really well, but the average for cats who've been diagnosed with diabetes is only 2 years, so you may see him crop up more and more as he's really on borrowed time. (Watch him make it for another 5 years now that I've said that....) I'm not a cat person....except for in the case of this one particular, personality - filled, larger-than-life cat, who has been with me longer than any one else in this household. So there.