The Popsicle incident

Our heroine entered the garage, a slight frown marring her features. "We are out of popsicles," she announced to her platinum-blond husband.

A look of concern mixed with amusement crossed his handsome features. 'Do you want me to run to the store to get more?"

She considered his offer. Popsicles were silly enough in January, without a special trip to the grocery store in search of them. Still, they were out. "Do you know what kind to get?"

"No."

She sighed. Apparently he had already forgotten her monologue only a few days before regarding her excitement at seeing these particular popsicles and memories of the same ones from her childhood had been a waste of breath. "No, you don't have to do that." He would probably buy the wrong ones anyway, and she didn't want a repeat of the onion roll incident. She kissed him on the cheek and went back inside the house, visions of cherry-pineapple childhood popsicles dancing in her head. She would have to stop by the grocery store on the way home from work.

Am I still a biker chick. . . .

if I sell my bike? That's right, I sold my baby, to fund my new baby. I had been thinking of it for a while, since we found out that I was expecting, and last week, I did it. I wasn't going to be able to ride at all next year, and who knows after that, so I sold my bike. Motorcycles don't like sitting in a garage being neglected. They deserve to be out on the open road. If I can't ride the bike, then I needed to find a good home for it, with a new owner that would.

So that money will now buy a crib, car seat, stroller, etc. I was ready to upgrade bikes anyway, even if my wallet wasn't. Maybe in a few years. . .

My husband laughed as I went in to the garage to say goodbye to her. She was a great first bike. We learned a lot from each other.

Just a different type of needle

Ah, blessed second trimester. The queasies are down to hardly ever, and is usually just a sign that I need to eat or have eaten too much. And my energy level close to back to normal. Last weekend, I caught up (nearly) on cleaning. This weekend, because I am not crazy enough to venture out into that Arctic Blast and 20 below wind chill factor, I am catching on on laundry and cleaning the last few neglected areas. (We do not talk about the shower lately, but today, it will sparkle.)



My sleep cycle is completely screwed up, but that has nothing to do with the little one. That is because of my fourth deadbeat tenant in a row. I am still in the process of suing the last two, and now and facing another eviction. What makes people think that they have the right to live in a place, and not pay for it? Do they think that I am wealthy and can support their family as well as my own? Guess what, I am not! Yesterday was the cherry on the sundae. She lied to me. She out and out lied to me. Did you call today to have the gas transferred into your name? (We won't mention that it should have been done two months ago, and that she has already said she was going to three times in the past month.) Yes, I did. I called today. Really? Because according to the gas company, you didn't; you better, or it is going to get very cold inside the house. That was my last ounce of patience. The final straw! The rent is late (allegedly in the mail), and it is only the third month. I hope they don't mind moving, because they are going to be again as soon as I can get their deadbeat butts out of there! Worrying about this is keeping me awake at night, and I just don't need it. I am ready to just sell the house, and i don't care if I take a loss on it. I just want out! No wonder this little town has hardly any houses for rent, landlords who try to provide reasonable-cost housing are driven to their knees in a couple short years.



I'm sorry. I feel better after venting.

I have been working the needle lately, just not a knitting needle. I have been busy stitching receiving blankets. Well, blanket, singular, so far. I am on my first, but it is half finished. I have four more folded pieces of flannel waiting on me. I know, it isn't knitting, but it is the first time I have had energy to do anything craft related in months, so I am excited. I am even back to reading my blogs of worth. Makes me feel like life is back to normal a little.

Today, it is all about venting back to needledom.

"Hey, you're knitting!"

Yes, I have managed to start knitting again. A little. Two rows last Thursday, and four rows last night, all on my First Cable fingerless mittens (#2). That doesn't sound like an accomplishment, but believe me, it is. It felt good just to have the needles in my hands, even if only for a few minutes.

I still carry my knitting in my purse, "just in case". It used to be just in case I had to unexpectedly wait somewhere, but now just in case I find some energy.

In happier news, the little one had a first doctor visit, at which I was assured that my exhaustion (and whining, I presume) is perfectly normal, and will get better.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, and looks with optomism for the New Year!

Today, it is all about the optomism.

Knitless

The days of perpetual exhaustion and queasiness continue. I eat three lunches (10, noon and 2), and take two naps (mid-afternoon and early evening), and am in bed before 9. I am lucky if I can stomach a few bites of dinner. I can frequently be found moaning on the sofa, and at rare times, on the bathroom floor. I am starting to envy those women that throw up every morning then go through the rest of the day feeling fine.

And worst of all, my darling husband is started to wonder if I am "slacking". Ok, I realize the laundry is piling up, all flat surfaces are covered with unknown rubble, and we haven't had a decent dinner in two weeks (unless the frozen pizza counts. . .), but I assure you I am NOT slacking. If I were slacking, using the fact that my body is expending an incredible amount of energy to incubate our child as an excuse, I would be doing things I like to do. I would read or knit while I rested on the sofa. I certainly would manage to stay awake during a one-hour TV program.

Men!

And no, I haven't knit anything in two weeks. Not a single stitch. Nadda. Zero. Zilch.

So, dear, since you have a three-week holiday shutdown, what do you plan on doing after I leave for work every day?

This tirade has been brought to you by your local pregnant knitting society. Please note that tomorrow, I will be back to normal, or what passes for normal these days. T minus five weeks til the 2nd trimester and counting.

Today, it is all about the venting.

205

205 stitches is the paltry amount of knitting that I have done in the past week. Three rows on my Branching Out First Lace attempt, and two rows on my Mother's socks. It isn't even worth posting pictures. I have, on the other hand, spent an inordinate amount of time lounging on the sofa staring at the TV or into open space. I just haven't had the energy for knitting, and that is saying a lot! It is a good thing that I am not knitting any Christmas gifts this year, or I would be up a creek.

Thank you to everyone who offered congratulations on the upcoming attraction in our house, and the source of my exhaustion. (Though I know the little one doesn't mean it.) I am nearly halfway thorugh the first trimester, so that means the downhill track for the queasiness and tiredness. At least that is what I keep telling myself.

Tomorrow I have continuing education. A boring topic, but five CLE hours for only $70 is worth it. So maybe I will gather the energy to knit a little then. Wish me luck!

Itty Bitty Knitting

The experiment started. A squirt of fluid onto the testing area. A timer, set to two minutes. Twelve seconds later. . . . that is definitely a "plus" sign. It would appear that I will have itty bitty knitting in my future. And in eight months, my husband and I will be welcoming the new addition to our house. I hope the cat isn't too jealous.

What this means is that I am a little queasy ALL THE TIME. Why do they call it morning sickness if it lasts 24/7? I am also tired a lot. I am doing less than before, and yet have less time for knitting and reading. I find that I am just staring at a television screen, instead of happily knitting away. I didn't know this would be cutting into my knitting time/energy! Well, hopefully things will settle in and I will have more energy again. Hey, don't laugh. It might happen!

In the meantime, while my sweetie was hunting last weekend, I was settled under a warm aphgan, watched DVD's of West Wing, and knit lace. Three more repeats on the Branching Out scarf. I feel like I am finally mastering the pattern, and hopefully the concept of lace. I made a couple of minor errors, but was able to identify and correct them quickly. Everyone is going to make mistakes. The real trick is being able to correct the mistakes.

And for anyone who was curious, no deer were harmed in the production of this blog during hunting season. My freezer is empty, and my sweetie disappointed. Next year, darling.

Today, it is all about the positive test.