November 2014 to today

Disability denied. Apparently I'm fully qualified to be a unicorn groomer, hogwarts express train conductor, or sea monkey circus coordinator. 

I will not lie, I am down. I am tired of fighting and I am lacking hope.

I have amazing friends that are trying hard to be encouraging and supportive, which I appreciate. I love you all.

The end of May 2015

Charlie is doing pretty well. We've had a few hiccups this past week. One, he had a nail to split vertically again, so we had to make a fast trip to the groomer. Apparently it hurt quite a bit, because he tried to nip Mr. Jon. He really does have the best groomer though - Mr. Jon turned off the nail trimmer and said calmly "Charlie, you do not nip. No bite. I love you. Give me your paw." and Charlie covered his face in kisses and obeyed. (I was still mortified!) Mr. Jon said it was really unlike him, and that he knew Charlie was hurting.

Friday we went to get my mom's car out of the shop, and another customer had their small dog in their lap. Charlie acted as if he had never seen another dog before, and like he hasn't spent the past two years on training his special skills. I backed out of the door with him as soon as we had walked in, and made him lay in down stay until he reset. I ended up dislocating my wrist really badly and that put me in a sour mood for the rest of the day. It's still pretty tender to the touch.

Yesterday Charlie and I had to get some groceries. He performed perfectly as if Friday had never happened. (I guess even service dogs have bad days.) One of our favorite cashiers at Publix insisted we come into his lane - the ten items or less lane - even though I had a regular cart. He swapped out his sign for a regular one and had a bag boy load up the stuff onto the belt for me. It was such a relief. I usually hate accepting help, but my wrist was still hurting and it was really nice to be able to actually see the stuff ring up on the screen. Usually I'm doing my best to put everything up on the belt fast enough for them to ring it up. We got help loading the car too - and I think the teenage girl that helped us was super professional and polite. I took Charlie off duty and had him in a down stay in the back seat. I asked her if she'd like to pet him, because he was off duty now and she gave him a kiss on his forehead! I love publix. Good people and plenty of support for me.

My unemployment has come to an end, and I'm still in the initial stages of trying to get disability. I'm really worried about it. I've been trying hard to fight for my best mental health in the meantime, but I'm really fighting with all I've got right now.

I've knit a few things this month, which for me is an accomplishment! My most recent finished project is a shawl. The pattern is the Stormcloud Shawlette by Hanna Breetz, available on ravelry.com for free.

Charlie had his checkup and is heartworm free. <3

The hermit lifestyle

I have been hiding out. I went to stitches south, we returned on Sunday afternoon and then I didn't leave the apartment except to go to knit group on Thursday morning. I ran to the local grocery shop on Sunday morning. I haven't gone to church or visited anyone. I haven't wanted to.

Charlie is itching for interaction. He's done a lot around the apartment lately. Yesterday he got a bath. He usually hates water, but I think he wanted a bath. Poor baby has been so itchy with that winter fur shedding.

My roses have bloomed. I've already cut three off to put in vases, and now two more are ready for that.

I finished my beekeepers quilt throw blanket. Mayhem loves it.

That's me at stitches south, we brought both walkers so my mom would also have somewhere to rest when I had to stop. We stayed in the fiddlers inn, which as it turns out was really familiar to my mom....because she watches "hotel impossible". We ended up watching episode nine of season one while staying there. :) that will be a fun memory to look back on for a good long while.

"Flash your stash" 2015

So there's this thing on Ravelry where you take a picture of all your yarn collection and show it off. I figured I'd join in, as its a good excuse to empty the closet and reorganize.

That is a queen sized bed. The picture shows all my WIPs (works in progress). The only active ones are the very top right corner - I am piecing together my Beekeeper's Quilt, and the bottom left corner, I'm working on a black and purple hat. 

Same bed. Top left is my silk blends, top right is all my cotton yarn. Middle left is my "too special to know what to make it into", middle right is my handspun yarn I made on my drop spindle. Bottom left is acrylic, tiny pile on bottom/middle row is my bulky wool, and finally bottom right is my worsted wool.

Final photo is my fingering weight yarn and in the boxes you can see yarn set aside for projects I want to tackle with that specific yarn and pattern.

I didn't take a picture of my inherited SABLE (stash acquired beyond life expectancy) or my spinning fiber, as I haven't added to them or used out of them in more than one year's time.

Sigh

I have had nothing to say in over a month.

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It's Holy Week and I am feeling neither holy nor hopeful. The depression has been heavy like an anvil. I haven't wanted to take care of myself. I haven't wanted to reach out and communicate. I've just hidden away. Every now and then I poked my head out and posted on Facebook, but I'm so down that the tiniest comments in the negative cause bouts of crying.

I bought a new rose bush. It's supposed to be very dark roses. It's called "black rose", but even I can see it's a dark red. 

I got new gnomes.

I turned 29 and Charlie turned 2.

I'm still alive.

Watching "homeward bound"

Charlie post bath

Playtime, momma!! I'm faster than lightning! I can leap tall buildings....or sofa chairs in a single bound! Let's do this!

I hope Grandma isn't disappointed in me.

I've got insomnia and anxiety tonight. When I get way overtired like this, I feel completely ruled by my OCD impulses. This past week I have had a very hard mental health week, and I've not done my household stuff like I should. For the past twenty minutes I've fought the urge to clean the windows and light switches. I know. I'm crazy. I know they're fine. I know as much as I clean them they are fine. But I'm sad and anxious and my brain is telling me that will fix it, when I know a good cry and sleep will actually fix it. So instead I'm in a cycle of telling myself to and not to clean the windows and light switches again.

I admire my grandma very much. People always relied on her, dropped in without warning, ate at her table and she was always ready. The house always looked and felt so clean! I don't know how she fed all of Aiken with her pantry, but she seemed to do it. She canned from her garden, shelled oodles of pecans from her tree, baked cakes for everybody and their mother, and she never seemed down or tired. 

I'm down and tired. 

Her shortcoming? Her cabinets and drawers were not as clean and perfect as the rest of the house. My best effort? My closets and cupboards are neat. My failing? Everything else is jumbled up.

I feel like my kitchen sink would make her disappointed. But it's midnight, so I have to be quiet for my husband, who has to be at work in six hours. Why don't I have the drive she did to do the tasks I hate with a smile like she did? I miss her so much. She had all these little shelves in her kitchen windows, and a bunch of little African violets sprouting on them. She would literally wax her linoleum. I can barely stand to mop mine due to the pain it brings, but I can remember her buffing her floor on her hands and knees. I miss her. I miss her so badly it aches like someone stabbed me, but there's no blood showing anywhere. She never sat still, and right now I just want to sit still. Instead, I've gotten up and cleaned light switches, refolded towels, cleaned the bathroom and cleaned the hallway light switch again.

I miss her. I'm tired and I'm sad, and I miss her and will never live up to her.

Visiting the shelter

Today we stopped by the shelter that we adopted Charlie from. He was nervous, and didn't want to go through the door. The man who brought him to me that long ago day in December of 2013'opened the door and was shocked to see us. Charlie had a very hard time staying calm as soon as he saw him. I told him to give him kisses and love and Charlie about wet the floor in his excitement to knock the gentleman over. Kisses exchanged and a few tears shed. I know Charlie was bit worried I was going to take him there to abandon him, but as soon as he saw that man, he knew everything was okay.

Charlie and I both know if it wasn't for him, Charlie would have died of a broken heart while at the pound. He's such a sensitive dog, and he was depressed when he was incarcerated. The staff were so excited to see and hear how well Charlie is now. They took our picture and posted it as a before and after on their Facebook page.

From adoption day to today. <3

Christmas time photos 2014

Library knit group December 2014

Charlie's new winter coat, thanks to Heather and Rachel. <3

Le sigh

Charlie likes to hop in bed after my husband leaves for work in the morning. Usually to snuggle.

He's doing well, is back on duty. I'm doing okay too. Just trying to keep my head above water and fight my mental illness. I've knit a few washcloths, baked a few treats, gained a few pounds, cleaned a few piles that have been hanging around the house since we moved in. In other words, there's nothing interesting to say, but we're okay. Love.

Charlie loves Netflix.

He is watching a Canadian show about working dogs. He's glued to the tv, watching "Tilley" sniff out arsony. He's so totally into it. I just thought I'd share.

Random pictures

Nothing to say, but I've been quiet too long.

Charlie in my husband's hoodie.

Charlie and his "aunt" Mädchen.

...and his uncle Smokey.

Mischief napping.