I Knew This Day Was Coming

The day when I have no knitting or crochet to show you. I'd like to blame it on the weather, me being sick, my hands hurt, wahahahahahwahahwahah... But truthfully, I just haven't picked up the needles/hooks in a while. I did 160 stitches last night, looked at the pattern, decided I didn't have the attention span to start on the next part of the pattern and called it a night. Last night I was dipping my toe into getting back into crafting. My two weeks of working nights equated to one entire PennyPress puzzle book completely finished and most of my skull bag completed. It was a slow two weeks. I should have gotten five hats and two arm warmers done. Instead I did puzzles, talked on the phone, watched movies....What can I say, 6PM to 6AM is a suck-ass shift.

So, in other news, Jon cleaned the entire house yesterday. I mean, floors mopped, waxed, laundry put away, clothes ironed. It was serious. He had a horrendous headache, yet still managed to be productive. The man was ironing until 2am. This is the same man that until August of last year, could not iron a no-iron cotton shirt. Then I went had surgery, was laid up for a week in August, took a trip to Texas for a week, and somehow the result of all that is now the man can iron. I wished he'd figured it out 10 years ago.

Jesse and James banned me from their room all weekend. I sent pictures of Nerf-gun toting Jesse to my sister and Dad, which I cannot post here cause, well, my kids don't wear clothes on the weekend. Last night though, it was all "MOMMY! Come help us clean our room!" I was allowed in last night.

Whiz got into a fight. Peace loving gay Whiz hooked up with some cat and got himself wounded proving his pussyhood. I came home Saturday to a driveway full of orange and white fur. Upon investigating my sweet Whiz, who had turned into a spitting, biting, growling demon cat, no visible wounds to speak of but he was hurting. So I put him in the bathroom to calm down. Know who got him calmed down and got him purring again? Not me, the person who has bottle-fed, cared for him after his surgeries, loved him to drooling oblivion. No, Jon got him calmed down. Jon who hates cats, went in the bathroom with Whiz and five minutes later announced to me that Whiz was ready for me to check him for injuries. The man is some kind of whisperer. Whiz is fine now, and no abscesses showed up. I dosed him with amoxicillan for a few days and he seems fine.

Saved my rabbits from Puppy. Puppy is like a fox in the henhouse if he gets into their room. During the saving, I busted my knee and elbow falling and ended up crawling to Puppy and tackling her from the ground, prying the rabbit out her mouth and scruffing her to put her in her kennel. Puppy is an utter fail when it comes to "friendly with cats and rabbits". Rabbits are fine. Boomer Man and Joey are still giving me the stink-eye, but Spice is way over it. Guess after 10 years and being blind she recovers quicker. I found her after the attack huddled under the litter box with just a little bit of bunny butt sticking out. Boomer Man escaped Puppy by jumping up on the cage. Joey took the brunt of the attack and besides being mouthed really good by Puppy, no wounds. Ever hear a rabbit death squeal? No? It isn't fun. Like wailing baby on crack. Just goes staight through you. Joey was doing it even though he wasn't dying. After I saved him, he thumped and chittered at me.

It is only Wednesday and all this has happed in the last four days. Crystal said to me (it was something like this) "Is it bad I like hearing about your life cause it makes me feel better about the crazy in my life?" No, Crystal, it isn't bad. My life is actually really calm. Crazier things could happen to me. :D ;)



Peace and It's Just Another Wednesday!