Salutations!
Life has been busy in the Moose Nugget House, trying to establish a new "normal".
Little Nugget Update: Her echo cardiogram came back OK, so it's not her heart. THAT is good news. The down-side, we still have no idea what's wrong with her. More good news though: she has gained 9 ounces. So hopefully this means she might start growing again. We are (literally) weighing in twice a week now. She's still got the feeding tube, but her appetite is getting better and she is back to her usual antics which include... taking her first two steps!
Meanwhile, Alaska is moving in it's cyclical way with no notice of the Moose Nugget Household. A couple days ago, I had a rare opportunity to "sleep in" (thank you, J, for getting up with the kids!). I startled when I woke. The grey dawn was already pouring into the room. Panicked, I thought SURELY I did not sleep until 10 am?!? As I rushed down the loft steps to check on my babies, the clock told me to relax, it was only 8:30. It was a relaxed morning (for a change in our recent hectic pace), so I poured a cup of coffee and snuggled with my girls as J and I chatted the sunrise away. My day threw me for another loop in the evening time. I have become accustomed to the dark signaling when nap time is over, or when it might be time to think about dinner. I am already suffering from what I call "Summer Syndrome"... where the daylight tricks you into thinking it is earlier than it really is. We've had several late dinners this week because I am still letting the darkness dictate when I prepare the evening meal. And not that I care about eating a late dinner, but anyone can surely understand that a late dinner means a late bedtime for your kids. And not that the KIDS mind a late bedtime, but it sure puts a dent in my "Mommy Needs Personal Space" plans.
I can hear my friend Susan cheering in my head... the return of light means a lot to her, and other Alaska residents.
But for me... well, the end of dark winter always makes me a little sad. It means that the "busy season" is approaching. The snow will (eventually) melt. The ice will break. Break-up will be upon us. Then the summer, full of gardening, outdoor fun, berry picking, hiking, visiting family (they only come in summer, ya know) and (hopefully) livestock.
Don't get me wrong! I'm not lazy or afraid of work. Nor am I part vampire or a hater of summer fun. I actually love Alaska for it's extremes. But in our neck of Alaska, it seems like the dark JUST arrives, then it goes away again. As the daylight returns, I know my knitting needles will return to the shelf for a few months. Cozy semi-lazy days by the wood stove will come to an end, and all the books I promised myself I was absolutely positively going to read this winter will go back on the bookshelf. Goodbye, old friends! *SNIFF* See ya after then next snowfall!
Meanwhile, it's time to break out the room darkening shades. If I have another opportunity to sleep past 8 am, I am going to make sure I'm in the dark to do it. And even though there is still enough light outside to see the tree line, I'd better start putting some thought to dinner, so I can actually have my family fed before 8pm today.
In other news: we've had a yard visitor. And this guy likes to get in close. Dog-like prints, too big to be a fox and too small to be a wolf. I'm hoping (OH GOSH AM I HOPING!) that it's just a domesticated dog that has taken interest in our yard. I'm erring on the side of caution and thinking it could be a coyote. I haven't seen him in full form, but we did make eye contact in the dark, as he was trotting up the driveway while I was Northern Lights gazing the other evening. It scared me in that, "I think my stomach just fell into my shorts" kind of way and I dashed inside just about the time the startled canine starting growling in my general direction. He's been back a couple times, leaving fresh prints in our yard, dangerously close to the house and cars. (Please, for the love of goodness, just be one of the neighbor's dogs!)
If any of my neighbors are reading, I apologize, but the next time this critter gets that close to me, it's gonna be a hunting trophy on my cabin wall. Unless it can prove itself friendly and harmless. Domestic or not... a canine-like animal brave enough to growl at me in my own yard is going to get a reminder of who's name is on the deed.
So that I don't have to end on such a macabre note... I'd like to add that one exciting thing the daylight DOES signal... it's almost time for the Ice Park! (End of February, if I remember correctly?) And Beans is old enough to REALLY have fun with it this year. AND since I'm not a lumbering eight month pregnant woman this year (thank goodness), I'll be able to join the fun with her. We've had an unusually warm winter (for those of you snickering, "only" 10 below really IS pretty warm for us this time of year!). If the weather holds out, the park should be really enjoyable this year, because we'll be able to stay longer than an hour before freezing our toes.
Light snow is falling, and the grey sky has once again lulled me into believing that I have more time in my day than I really do...
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
January Tundra
It was a relief to return home. It was dark when we landed (10 pm, though it would have been dark any time after 4 pm anyway), so no chances of watching the tundra appear. The flight was uneventful, and I had to grin when the pilot announced the local temp as 32 below zero. I know most people don't understand finding joy in that, but after such a long week in Seattle, I was ready for anything that resembled home.
J and Beans collected us at baggage claim. J collected luggage (commenting that we were certainly returning with more than we left with- I waited to tell him that the extra weight was mostly yarn *snort*). Beans and Little Nugget and I had a reunion of sorts, which mostly involved lots of hugs and kisses, and visiting the stuffed grizzly bear in the baggage claim area.
We exited the airport into the cold dark air. My first few gulps of air left me coughing- a common occurrence when you forget how to breath in 30 below temps.
For those of you chuckling (or for dad, who always figured I would forget how to breathe), this is not a joke. In subzero temps, gulps of air are downright painful. The cold air mixes with the humidity from your breath and freezes on it's way down. Nose hairs prickle and freeze rapidly, leaving frozen boogers in it's wake. The body's reflexes (coughing) try to kick out this cold air. In spite of the pain of breathing in this cold air (it really does feel like you might suffocate), I had to grin and try sucking in another deep breath.
The rest of the night was uneventful. With doctor appointments in Fairbanks lined up for the following day, we retired to a hotel room.
The next morning, I amused myself by peeking out at the dark morning sky. Funny how a week away from home can make you a tourist in your own town again. I peeked out the window of the hotel until after 10 am, when the sun began to come up in earnest. I stared in amazement and wonder at the hoar frost and the ice fog, a combination of awe and homey comfort washing over me. As we started south toward home as the 3 pm sun began to set, it was then I realized that I had been quite homesick for Alaska, and was happy to be back on the Tundra.
*Little Nugget Update: We didn't get very good news. She's still not gaining weight. More tests to be lined up and I'm sure, a long road ahead of us. That's all the detail I care to get into today, so just keep us in your prayers and good thoughts.*
The drive home was more beautiful than I remembered. Sometimes when you get to love something every day, you forget to see how beautiful it always is. The cold was colder. The vastness more vast.
The cabin was as perfect as ever. Snow covered roof, fox foot-printed yard, smoke rising from the stovepipe, and a warm handmade quilt from my mom to snuggle under, where I finally stopped being Alaska Tough, and gave myself permission to be a worried mom.
It's good to be home.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
J and Beans collected us at baggage claim. J collected luggage (commenting that we were certainly returning with more than we left with- I waited to tell him that the extra weight was mostly yarn *snort*). Beans and Little Nugget and I had a reunion of sorts, which mostly involved lots of hugs and kisses, and visiting the stuffed grizzly bear in the baggage claim area.
We exited the airport into the cold dark air. My first few gulps of air left me coughing- a common occurrence when you forget how to breath in 30 below temps.
For those of you chuckling (or for dad, who always figured I would forget how to breathe), this is not a joke. In subzero temps, gulps of air are downright painful. The cold air mixes with the humidity from your breath and freezes on it's way down. Nose hairs prickle and freeze rapidly, leaving frozen boogers in it's wake. The body's reflexes (coughing) try to kick out this cold air. In spite of the pain of breathing in this cold air (it really does feel like you might suffocate), I had to grin and try sucking in another deep breath.
The rest of the night was uneventful. With doctor appointments in Fairbanks lined up for the following day, we retired to a hotel room.
The next morning, I amused myself by peeking out at the dark morning sky. Funny how a week away from home can make you a tourist in your own town again. I peeked out the window of the hotel until after 10 am, when the sun began to come up in earnest. I stared in amazement and wonder at the hoar frost and the ice fog, a combination of awe and homey comfort washing over me. As we started south toward home as the 3 pm sun began to set, it was then I realized that I had been quite homesick for Alaska, and was happy to be back on the Tundra.
*Little Nugget Update: We didn't get very good news. She's still not gaining weight. More tests to be lined up and I'm sure, a long road ahead of us. That's all the detail I care to get into today, so just keep us in your prayers and good thoughts.*
The drive home was more beautiful than I remembered. Sometimes when you get to love something every day, you forget to see how beautiful it always is. The cold was colder. The vastness more vast.
The cabin was as perfect as ever. Snow covered roof, fox foot-printed yard, smoke rising from the stovepipe, and a warm handmade quilt from my mom to snuggle under, where I finally stopped being Alaska Tough, and gave myself permission to be a worried mom.
It's good to be home.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Monday, January 11, 2010
100 Degree Difference
Hey Y'all.
What a week. Honestly.
Here's the long and short (mostly long, sorry) of the hospital news:
Little Nugget has had biopsies, various tests, and enough procedures done to make her burst into tears the moment she sees someone in scrubs or white jackets. And after all this, we are leaving Seattle with the same information we came with... essentially that our baby is not growing and is severely constipated. She hasn't gained any weight in over 9 weeks now. The poor Little Nugget had to receive THREE enemas and almost 2 gallons of something they call "Go Lightly" (which should be renamed Go Constantly), before she finally cleaned out her little bowels. When they put her back on the scale, it turns out that she lost close to an entire pound of poop. Talk about being "full of it".
They added a feeding tube to her list of things to go home with. The good news is that her tests did not show any of the very serious and or deadly diseases she could have had. The bad news is that the doctors still don't know what the heck is wrong with her, and they are "HOPING" that with emptied bowels and the feeding tube, that she will be able to absorb nutrients and calories and start gaining weight.
The science in that: the intestines are where your body absorbs nutrients and converts calories into the stuff it takes to grow. If that part of the body is full, there is nowhere to absorb those calories. By emptying the system and keeping stuff moving through, that means the body SHOULD be able to do it's job. The doctor sounded hopeful that the feeding tube would be a fairly temporary thing, and if his Empty Intestine Theory is correct, we should start seeing Little Nugget pack on the weight fairly quickly. Who knew pooping was so incredibly important?
Meanwhile, I'll be nursing constantly, pumping milk for supplementary feedings in between nursing, and trying to keep her from removing the feeding tube. She's not crazy about it. We couldn't leave the hospital until I proved that I could replace a dislodged tube (not too challenging, I should add). It brings a whole new meaning to "up your nose with a rubber hose".
Thanks to everyone that was praying for us and sending good wishes and good karma. Hopefully this works, because if she doesn't start growing, we will probably have to endure more testing and intervention.
Poor Peanut.
Living in the hospital for a week certainly lent some perspective though. We met lots of great kids and families in the hospital, there for all kinds of reasons. At one point, in the thick of our visit, I had a volunteer come sit with Little Nugget so I could take a much needed mental health break. (Your mind starts going a little nutty when you are tired, your baby is being poked and prodded, and you still don't have a WHY your baby is sick). I headed to the coffee shop in the hospital and was just starting to feel sorry enough for Little Nugget and myself to start crying. Another mom with an almost bald little toddler sat next to me and offered a hug (which I gladly accepted). "First trip?" she asked. "Yep," I replied, as I sniffed and wiped my eyes. The toddler was eyeballing me with curiosity. We exchanged stories, and I got a dose of perspective. She was there with her little guy who was undergoing chemotherapy. And just when I felt like an idiot for crying over my generally healthy but not pooping or growing baby, she said she really felt for ME. She thought having no answer was worse than having a diagnosis, even a really bad one. She sat with me for the rest of my break, our conversation about sick kids came to an end when she noticed my knitting bag, and we spent the rest of the time talking about normal stuff... how to knit in the round, fun places to see in Seattle, and what the rest of our respective family members were like. Being normal was what I really needed. When we parted ways, we both went back to our individual stresses, but a little more "normal" for our coffee break.
Watching a little guy bravely holding his mommy's hand on the way to chemo definitely gives you a little perspective about your own worries. Watching his mommy treat him like a normal toddler when he wanted to push every button on the elevator made it a little easier to return to Little Nugget's room without being afraid of her feeding tube and other equipment.
SO...
We are leaving Seattle with the same thing we got here with. A baby who won't grow and won't poop. I think we finally have the pooping part a little more under control. Little Nugget is slowly growing used to the feeding tube, and my new mission is to knit up some really adorable and fashionable mitten-like hand covers for her so she doesn't have to wear an ugly sock on her hand. (The sock keeps her from being able to get her nimble little fingers on the feeding tube, reducing the ability to pull it out.) I happened upon another fancy-pants knitting store today where I indulged in some adorable and fancy yarns just for this project (and maybe a few others). J was feeling sorry enough for Little Nugget and his tired wife who endured the hospital trip alone that he didn't question my (expensive) yarn purchases... simply saying that it was good for me to find something fun and enjoyable while I was here. (When he sees the receipt, he may not feel quite so generous. Ahem.)
We head back to Fairbanks tomorrow. I can't wait to see Beans and J again, and head back to my cozy Little Farm on the Tundra... back to the quiet life, the crunching snow, and the wood-smoked coziness of Alaska.
J sent a text this morning... 48 below zero at the little house. As I sit and watch a light rain mist over Seattle, I am aware of the nearly 100 degree temperature difference. (It's around 50 degrees here in Seattle today.)
He says the wood stove has been burning wood at a steady rate today. There was three inches of frost on the dryer vent that he had to knock off before he could dry the laundry. He reported that the house dropped 5 degrees in a matter of minutes when he opened the door to retrieve more firewood, and we both speculated about how the weather would affect his ability to safely retrieve Little Nugget and me from the airport. (Cars can have lots of trouble when it gets that cold. Not really very safe to embark on a 100 mile journey.)
I know it sounds crazy to WANT to be there, but I can't think of a happier place than to be settled at the kitchen table next to that wood stove, listening to clicking knitting needles and busy babies. I'm hoping it warms up enough for a safe trip back to Delta Junction, where the wood stove and the cabin are waiting for me.
I promise more exciting stories about Alaska living the next time around. For my loyal readers and those looking for more Alaska-ish banter, thanks for letting me babble on a much more personal note about our current troubles. Life will be returning to some kind of "normal" for us soon. I hope.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
What a week. Honestly.
Here's the long and short (mostly long, sorry) of the hospital news:
Little Nugget has had biopsies, various tests, and enough procedures done to make her burst into tears the moment she sees someone in scrubs or white jackets. And after all this, we are leaving Seattle with the same information we came with... essentially that our baby is not growing and is severely constipated. She hasn't gained any weight in over 9 weeks now. The poor Little Nugget had to receive THREE enemas and almost 2 gallons of something they call "Go Lightly" (which should be renamed Go Constantly), before she finally cleaned out her little bowels. When they put her back on the scale, it turns out that she lost close to an entire pound of poop. Talk about being "full of it".
They added a feeding tube to her list of things to go home with. The good news is that her tests did not show any of the very serious and or deadly diseases she could have had. The bad news is that the doctors still don't know what the heck is wrong with her, and they are "HOPING" that with emptied bowels and the feeding tube, that she will be able to absorb nutrients and calories and start gaining weight.
The science in that: the intestines are where your body absorbs nutrients and converts calories into the stuff it takes to grow. If that part of the body is full, there is nowhere to absorb those calories. By emptying the system and keeping stuff moving through, that means the body SHOULD be able to do it's job. The doctor sounded hopeful that the feeding tube would be a fairly temporary thing, and if his Empty Intestine Theory is correct, we should start seeing Little Nugget pack on the weight fairly quickly. Who knew pooping was so incredibly important?
Meanwhile, I'll be nursing constantly, pumping milk for supplementary feedings in between nursing, and trying to keep her from removing the feeding tube. She's not crazy about it. We couldn't leave the hospital until I proved that I could replace a dislodged tube (not too challenging, I should add). It brings a whole new meaning to "up your nose with a rubber hose".
Thanks to everyone that was praying for us and sending good wishes and good karma. Hopefully this works, because if she doesn't start growing, we will probably have to endure more testing and intervention.
Poor Peanut.
Living in the hospital for a week certainly lent some perspective though. We met lots of great kids and families in the hospital, there for all kinds of reasons. At one point, in the thick of our visit, I had a volunteer come sit with Little Nugget so I could take a much needed mental health break. (Your mind starts going a little nutty when you are tired, your baby is being poked and prodded, and you still don't have a WHY your baby is sick). I headed to the coffee shop in the hospital and was just starting to feel sorry enough for Little Nugget and myself to start crying. Another mom with an almost bald little toddler sat next to me and offered a hug (which I gladly accepted). "First trip?" she asked. "Yep," I replied, as I sniffed and wiped my eyes. The toddler was eyeballing me with curiosity. We exchanged stories, and I got a dose of perspective. She was there with her little guy who was undergoing chemotherapy. And just when I felt like an idiot for crying over my generally healthy but not pooping or growing baby, she said she really felt for ME. She thought having no answer was worse than having a diagnosis, even a really bad one. She sat with me for the rest of my break, our conversation about sick kids came to an end when she noticed my knitting bag, and we spent the rest of the time talking about normal stuff... how to knit in the round, fun places to see in Seattle, and what the rest of our respective family members were like. Being normal was what I really needed. When we parted ways, we both went back to our individual stresses, but a little more "normal" for our coffee break.
Watching a little guy bravely holding his mommy's hand on the way to chemo definitely gives you a little perspective about your own worries. Watching his mommy treat him like a normal toddler when he wanted to push every button on the elevator made it a little easier to return to Little Nugget's room without being afraid of her feeding tube and other equipment.
SO...
We are leaving Seattle with the same thing we got here with. A baby who won't grow and won't poop. I think we finally have the pooping part a little more under control. Little Nugget is slowly growing used to the feeding tube, and my new mission is to knit up some really adorable and fashionable mitten-like hand covers for her so she doesn't have to wear an ugly sock on her hand. (The sock keeps her from being able to get her nimble little fingers on the feeding tube, reducing the ability to pull it out.) I happened upon another fancy-pants knitting store today where I indulged in some adorable and fancy yarns just for this project (and maybe a few others). J was feeling sorry enough for Little Nugget and his tired wife who endured the hospital trip alone that he didn't question my (expensive) yarn purchases... simply saying that it was good for me to find something fun and enjoyable while I was here. (When he sees the receipt, he may not feel quite so generous. Ahem.)
We head back to Fairbanks tomorrow. I can't wait to see Beans and J again, and head back to my cozy Little Farm on the Tundra... back to the quiet life, the crunching snow, and the wood-smoked coziness of Alaska.
J sent a text this morning... 48 below zero at the little house. As I sit and watch a light rain mist over Seattle, I am aware of the nearly 100 degree temperature difference. (It's around 50 degrees here in Seattle today.)
He says the wood stove has been burning wood at a steady rate today. There was three inches of frost on the dryer vent that he had to knock off before he could dry the laundry. He reported that the house dropped 5 degrees in a matter of minutes when he opened the door to retrieve more firewood, and we both speculated about how the weather would affect his ability to safely retrieve Little Nugget and me from the airport. (Cars can have lots of trouble when it gets that cold. Not really very safe to embark on a 100 mile journey.)
I know it sounds crazy to WANT to be there, but I can't think of a happier place than to be settled at the kitchen table next to that wood stove, listening to clicking knitting needles and busy babies. I'm hoping it warms up enough for a safe trip back to Delta Junction, where the wood stove and the cabin are waiting for me.
I promise more exciting stories about Alaska living the next time around. For my loyal readers and those looking for more Alaska-ish banter, thanks for letting me babble on a much more personal note about our current troubles. Life will be returning to some kind of "normal" for us soon. I hope.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Knitting Keeps Me Sane
Ah... my sanity has been tested today. We had the first of our appointments at Children's Hospital. Being surrounded by so many babies made me realize that Little Nugget is, well... REALLY little. Apparently the doctor agreed because he wants more tests than previously planned AND... he's going to give her a feeding tube for supplementary feeding. Sentences like, "It's imperative that she gain a few pounds" and various other phrases have been running my mind into knots. We were informed that we would need to check out of the hotel in the morning and plan on staying overnight in the hospital tomorrow. With new and extra tests scheduled for Friday (the day we were supposed to be going home), everything is in the air. Depending on the outcome of the tests, we might return home Friday, and we might not.
My sanity disappeared when the realization that my daughter was coming home with medical equipment in tow hit me. And for those of you who know my type-A, preplanning, organized personality, you KNOW that not being sure of when EXACTLY I'll be heading for the airport is enough to maybe send me to the ward where you wear white coats that button in the back.
So I'm doing what any sanity tested parent would do. I made a few tearful phone calls to J and a friend back home. I called our regular pediatrician to be SURE that she absolutely 100% trusted the Seattle doctor's advice. I texted my mom (Not daring to call because explaining to your baby's Nana what is going on without crying is close to impossible).
Then I boarded the bus and wandered around the aquarium.
Stress is best handled by completely numbing the brain so it is impossible to think too much about it. Since I gave up mind altering substances about 15 years ago, I've found the best way to numb a brain is by overloading it with activity and useless information. Did you know there are over 600 species of fish in the Puget Sound? Do you know that a fair number of those species are residing in my freezer? (grin)
With my brain somewhat numb and my feet somewhat tired, I headed back to the hotel in time to give Little Nugget a quick diaper change and a nursing break, then headed out again to the knitting store.
Aside from the cab ride (where I was SURE I was going to die in an auto accident before having to take Little Nugget back to the hospital), it was the highlight of my day.
I want to say that nothing could replace my great group of knit-sters back in Delta Junction, BUT... the gals at Hilltop Yarn were a hoot! I was taught a few new skills by a lady younger than me who can knit without even looking at her work. We talked about everything from yarn to turkey sex (don't ask. But if you must know, mainstream turkeys are incapable of breeding the old fashioned way.It's been bred out of them to reduce agressive behavior in turkey farms. Modern turkeys are artificially inseminated). We had a blast doing it, and I did find myself wishing that these girls and that yarn shop were part of my local gang.
The yarn! OH, the YARN! I had no idea what I was missing! This was some high-end fancy pants stuff. I was spoiled the moment I starting running some of that stuff through my hands. I won't lie...a good part of my "fun money" was spent in that store!
But don't worry, Delta gals... I missed you this week, and I sure can't want to see that Blooming Tea and let you all touch my new yarns! And Lucy (our resident knitting pro!), I hope you are ready to do some teaching! Some of this yarn is worthy of a more daring project than a stockinette stitch hat!
The trip to the yarn store was just what I needed. Sitting and gabbing with a handful of gals and counting stitches actually WAS enough for me to forget my troubles. I almost nearly forgot until I was packing up and heading out, and all the ladies wished Little Nugget and I luck and prayers.
It's a good thing when you really CAN forget about life for awhile. As addictions go, knitting is a good one to have, I suppose.
So we have a big day tomorrow. I will probably not post again until we get home and get comfortable with whatever equipment we have to bring home. I should have more definite news by then of what's going on with Little Nugget, and tales of what it's like to come home, back to the cabin, which I miss more than I thought I would. Seattle is nice, but I DO miss the snow covered tundra and the woodsmoke curling from the stovepipe.
Hopefully I'll also be sporting a new hat made of super crazy soft woolly goodness! I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of knitting tomorrow, while waiting for answers.
Keep us in prayers, good thoughts, or whatever you believe brings good luck and good karma...
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
My sanity disappeared when the realization that my daughter was coming home with medical equipment in tow hit me. And for those of you who know my type-A, preplanning, organized personality, you KNOW that not being sure of when EXACTLY I'll be heading for the airport is enough to maybe send me to the ward where you wear white coats that button in the back.
So I'm doing what any sanity tested parent would do. I made a few tearful phone calls to J and a friend back home. I called our regular pediatrician to be SURE that she absolutely 100% trusted the Seattle doctor's advice. I texted my mom (Not daring to call because explaining to your baby's Nana what is going on without crying is close to impossible).
Then I boarded the bus and wandered around the aquarium.
Stress is best handled by completely numbing the brain so it is impossible to think too much about it. Since I gave up mind altering substances about 15 years ago, I've found the best way to numb a brain is by overloading it with activity and useless information. Did you know there are over 600 species of fish in the Puget Sound? Do you know that a fair number of those species are residing in my freezer? (grin)
With my brain somewhat numb and my feet somewhat tired, I headed back to the hotel in time to give Little Nugget a quick diaper change and a nursing break, then headed out again to the knitting store.
Aside from the cab ride (where I was SURE I was going to die in an auto accident before having to take Little Nugget back to the hospital), it was the highlight of my day.
I want to say that nothing could replace my great group of knit-sters back in Delta Junction, BUT... the gals at Hilltop Yarn were a hoot! I was taught a few new skills by a lady younger than me who can knit without even looking at her work. We talked about everything from yarn to turkey sex (don't ask. But if you must know, mainstream turkeys are incapable of breeding the old fashioned way.It's been bred out of them to reduce agressive behavior in turkey farms. Modern turkeys are artificially inseminated). We had a blast doing it, and I did find myself wishing that these girls and that yarn shop were part of my local gang.
The yarn! OH, the YARN! I had no idea what I was missing! This was some high-end fancy pants stuff. I was spoiled the moment I starting running some of that stuff through my hands. I won't lie...a good part of my "fun money" was spent in that store!
But don't worry, Delta gals... I missed you this week, and I sure can't want to see that Blooming Tea and let you all touch my new yarns! And Lucy (our resident knitting pro!), I hope you are ready to do some teaching! Some of this yarn is worthy of a more daring project than a stockinette stitch hat!
The trip to the yarn store was just what I needed. Sitting and gabbing with a handful of gals and counting stitches actually WAS enough for me to forget my troubles. I almost nearly forgot until I was packing up and heading out, and all the ladies wished Little Nugget and I luck and prayers.
It's a good thing when you really CAN forget about life for awhile. As addictions go, knitting is a good one to have, I suppose.
So we have a big day tomorrow. I will probably not post again until we get home and get comfortable with whatever equipment we have to bring home. I should have more definite news by then of what's going on with Little Nugget, and tales of what it's like to come home, back to the cabin, which I miss more than I thought I would. Seattle is nice, but I DO miss the snow covered tundra and the woodsmoke curling from the stovepipe.
Hopefully I'll also be sporting a new hat made of super crazy soft woolly goodness! I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of knitting tomorrow, while waiting for answers.
Keep us in prayers, good thoughts, or whatever you believe brings good luck and good karma...
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
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