When stressed, I'm one of those who hunkers down with some knitting and ignores the world and acts a lot frazzled. So, y'know, that's what I've been doing. The hub helped out by getting me a Kindle for my birthday, thereby facilitating the knit-while-reading escapism. Not a lot to report. But I'll throw in a book review!
I saw my brother, um, Sunday. Going back to Ohio to visit him tomorrow. He's doing as well as can reasonably be expected, under the circumstances. Maybe it's my EMT training and ER volunteering, but he looked better than I expected to. (The husbeast said the same thing, but he's also had emergency medicine training, and seen some very grim things.) I was a little freaked out because his fingers and toes were green, thinking bad circulation. But it turns out they used something green to disinfect him before surgery and practically bathed him in it. Right then. He's in a medically induced coma while his body gets itself together, and really, if someone cracked my chest open, I'd rather skip the aftermath. Everyone keeps saying they want him to wake up, and I'm thinking "nooooo, let him rest. The pain will hit soon enough."
I mentioned to my brother's best friend that my bro needs to recover so I can yell at him. (My brother has not been living what you could call a healthy life.) Best Friend gave me a fist bump and told me he's been taking photos of my brother in critical condition with tubes coming and going, and will flash them at my brother as needed to inhibit further stupidity. I like that guy.
If he croaks, I have no doubt my mother is waiting right this moment in the afterlife, ready to give him grief over all the cigarettes he smoked. If he ever gets caught lighting up in this life, ever again, one of us may kill him. Or at least stuff a lit cigarette up his nose.
The husbeast is waiting to tease my brother about doing the 'rock star method' of quitting smoking. There was someone, Keith Richards, maybe? back in the seventies who overdosed and spent weeks in a coma. When he woke up, all the nicotine withdrawal was over, and he never started up again. It looks like my brother will be doing that method. Extreme, but effective.
Short version, all is not well, but it's as well as could be expected.
I've knit an alleged pair of socks. The ball bands claim that they are knit with yarn from the same dye lot. If that is true, I will eat both of them. They do not match. I'm not that picky about matching socks, but I'm irritated when ball bands lie to me. I'll get a photo and post it soon. Have begun on another pair of socks. I begin to see the appeal of this whole sock knitting thing. Taken me twenty years, but yeah. It's cool. Keeps my hands busy so I don't kill people.
Really need to get that tee shirt.
For those of you who think my Vogue Knitting reviews come too far and few between, and wish for further hilarity, I have found a web site for you. "Shine". It's some Yahoo thing. Their fashion 'channel' contains lots of stuff that, well, sounds like it was written by me. Current editor's pick, an article entitled "The Dumbest Thing You Can Do To Your Boobs". I need say no more.
Other than novels on my kindle, I have been reading "At Home" by Bill Bryson.
"A short history of private life", it says on the cover, and that's what it is. Bryson is a favorite of mine all the way back to college part one, when I discovered his book "Mother Tongue" in the campus book store. He is always entertaining, and has a gift for personalizing history, and making everyday lives of people in the past understandable to those of us today. I'm only about a third of the way through, and he's already boggled my mind several times. Food, servants, lighting, technology, you name it, he mashes it all together into a coherent whole like no one else I've ever met.
I definitely suggest it for anyone interested in history. Or anthropology. Or sociology. You get the idea.
I'm rambling. I'm freaked. I'm gonna go knit a sock. But I thought I'd let everyone know, I'm still chugging along.
If you smoke? Quit. If not for you, do it for all the people who will worry if you do something like my brother's doing now.
I had to say that.