upstairs downstairs

I was going to post pics of the pieces I've been working on for the past two days, but they're on my other computer. I am moving from my old, decrepit Dell that is destined to simply implode one of these days to a new hybrid Dell (I couldn't afford a Prius, so I got this! haha). The new system kicks ass, but as is inevitable with a move to a new 'puter the usual glitches have ensued: programs that I use every day (Pagemaker! Photoshop!) are not compatible with the new operating system so I have to do stuff on the old one and then email things to myself to pull up on the new one. Then, documents formatted in the new-fangled Word program get all wonky when I pull them up on the old machine, but I have to print from the old machine because I haven't moved the printer. And I hear tell there is a slick way to move your email address book from one machine to another but as yet I have not been able to pull that off either, so I find myself downstairs on the old machine, forwarding myself copies of old emails just so I can use the addresses because, well, god forbid I write down an email address with like, a pen, on say, a piece of paper, like some sort of luddite. (1)

But those are all just minor irritations which will just sort of smooth themselves out eventually. In the meanwhile here's a picture of my foster dog, Chili Bean, who has a hot date with a potential adopter this weekend. I'm sure she will simply fall in love with him, as does everyone who comes within a ten foot radius of his cuteness, so I am preparing myself for the inevitable good bye.

I mean, seriously! Hella-cute, isn't he? The mildly worried look you see here is actually a "poor me" expression that he has perfected to induce people to share their Cheez-Its with him. He is a complete pain the bum and we absolutely and unequivocally adore him.

In other news, I had a job interview today. And tomorrow... (drum roll please....) is my coveted and long-awaited appointment with the pain specialist. (Aren't those magical words, when uttered together?)

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(1) I used to pronounce that "LOO- dite," until I used the word in conversation and was mocked with great glee by a friend who shall remain nameless. This is a great example of why people who may be fairly well-read might still sound like morons if they attempt to socialize in real-people land: entire swathes of their vocabulary may have only been experienced in print, not actually ever heard pronounced. (I mean, how do you pronounce swathe? you see what I mean.) Another case in point: I once auditioned for a play and when I read aloud from the script: "There's an Episcopal church right down the street" I pronounced it "epi-SCOPE-al." Great memory to re-live if I'm feeling a bit too cocky; brings me right back down to Humbleville.

mah jong is my nicotine patch

(photo by Alexandra Gamble)

Happy November! I got to see my former foster dog, Dakota, today! His new name is Yoda. No comment on that. But the handsome guy remembered me for sure and gave me lots of hugs and kisses, which I happily returned. His new mom is AWESOME; I can tell that she's taking great care of him and he is making new friends wherever he goes. So gratifying, to see him doing so well, and to know that I had a tiny part in his journey to his forever home.

After a short lapse in judgment, a fall off of the wagon, as it were, I am back to my self-imposed Myspace ban. No. Myspace. Whatsoever. That place is evil. Notice how I said "place," as though it were an actual physical, geographical area somewhere in real-people land, which it certainly is not. Once you've become hooked, it's a tough habit to break. Instant gratification, passive entertainment galore. No attention span is required! This is an attractive option when you've got critical analyses to write and you're tired and your fatigued little brain cells can't seem to absorb anything requiring intellectual focus. Further, on a site like Myspace you can interact socially without ever having to put on makeup or leave your house! You can pretend that you are using your creative talents by "pimping" your page and photoshopping amusing comments to send to your "friends," most of whom you've never met in person. I absolutely adore it. But we're no good for each other, Myspace and me... Myspace takes me away from my "real" friends and my children, it tricks me into thinking that because I've coordinated my html wallpaper with my table borders I am really "decorating." It lures me into believing that because people leave me "comments" that they actually like me or give a shit about my life.

Quitting Myspace is not easy. It's like quitting any other habit that has taken up your time and attention and given you something resembling joy and social interaction; you need to replace it with something or you are going to backslide. I have fallen off the wagon myself. But I'm going to try again. This time, instead of cold turkey I am going to allow myself some other mindless distraction to wean myself off of it, much the way a smoker might use nicotine gum. I hate to replace one shitty habit with another, but frankly, if I spent even HALF the time I used to spend dicking around on Myspace on something more productive (studying, cleaning the house, playing a game with my kids, making art, reading a book, walking the dogs, talking to real live friends on the real live phone....) that still leaves me with hours of unclaimed time that I am accustomed to spending in a mindless html semi-coma. So, I have devised a step-down program involving Mah Jongg(1), Yahoo News, Etsy.com, and any of the groovy sites I've listed to the right. These distractions, in measured doses, should take the edge off just enough that I can get myself back on track with the life endeavors that I frequently claim are important to me. One day at a time. No peeking.

ps. If you have not seen "Lars and the Real Girl" yet, hie thee to the video store and rent it. It is a gorgeous little film that surprised me with its depth and poignancy. It might have been the Vicodin talking but I cried through much of it. Totally worth the rental fee, thumbs up and all that.

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(1) In the spirit of sharing with anyone else who may need a step-down program from an evil social-networking site, this is my favorite version of mahjongg:
http://www.freegames.ws/games/boardgames/mahjong/freemahjong.htm
There are, of course, many others but none offer the tribal drum sound and the graphic of the spewing volcano when you "win." And, you know, that counts for something.

a few new things

"Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well
be your own, instead of someone else's."
~ Billy Wilder ~

"Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string."
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

"trust" c. 2008 miz annie
(today's Daily Devotion)

I just finished the below pillows and am really pleased with how they came out. I love the Tree of Life motif and found a great deal on a bit of yardage from another Etsy seller. The other fabrics are a mix of funky stripes, a bamboo print, and a great asian "calico" that is shot through with metallic detailing. Sort of a mish-mash but it all works together. These are 14"x14" and are up on my Etsy shop now! I am working on another, larger, pair; those are for a gift.

Front view - Tree of Life panels surrounded by
batiks and asian metallics.

Back view showing the envelope closure with
green silk cord tied around wooden buttons.

In other news, I have another job interview coming up and am very excited about that. I am hoping that when I speak with the neuro-whose-a-maperson regarding my back, the news won't be quite so dire. I am hoping to maybe get in with the pain specialist and see if we can get some cortisone injections on board so that I can find a new job and get settled in before I have to have surgery. Also, if I am doing physical therapy in the interim, there's a chance I may not need the surgery .... I realize this borders on denial, but I am a healer, after all, and I trust that I will find a solution that won't involve me being out of work for an extended period of time while recovering from major surgery. I just don't see how I have that kind of time. I am trusting the universe to meet me halfway on this one. Because I really need it to. Unless, of course, the universe has even bigger and better plans for me, and in that case, bring 'em on!

The well of Providence is deep.
It’s the buckets we bring to it that are small.
~ Mary Webb ~

me and The Bean.

(photo by joan nixon, apparently the only person alive
who can take a decent photo of me. ;-)

Chili Dog Haiku

small dog on my lap

dusted with Hint O'Lime crumbs

how I adore you

Chili Bean

Chili Bean is an adorable, funny, and very loving chihuahua min-pin mix I am currently fostering for Almost Home Rescue. If you are interested in giving Mr. Bean a forever home, please visit their website and fill out an application! If you have any questions regarding Mr. Bean's ample cuteness and endless entertainment value, just ask me! We've become pretty good pals over the past week or two, so I can totally vouch for this little character.

I'll have something from the light menu with a side of redemption

I have been so down, and so sore. I re-injured my back and the doctor I have been seeing for ten years would not see me because I am now on MaineCare. Mighty unfriendly, if you ask me. All my prescriptions ran out before I could get in to see the new doctor. I finally had my first appointment this past Friday, and not a moment too soon. I could barely stand up from pain (nor could i sit comfortably, or lie down, for that matter....) and was frustrated. And tired. Tired of being frustrated and tired. Perhaps the most demoralizing part of chronic pain is the effort it takes to pretend that you're not in it. Trying to keep functioning because you don't want to freak the kids out and you need to go to the job interview and you need to buy groceries but you're exhausted from not being able find a pain-free position in which you can sleep. Or sit. Or stand. When the doctor showed great empathy and started writing prescriptions for Prednisone and painkillers, and said she would get me in for an MRI and a pain specialist a.s.a.p., I couldn't help it -- I started crying. Sometimes great relief does that. It catches you by surprise. Sometimes you don't know how dark things have been until you find yourself blinking, gratefully, in the light.

photo by Joani N.
No, that's not a cane. It's a "hiking stick." Which for my
purposes just means it's a cane with a long handle
that I don't need insurance to pay for.

Our big tabby, Tucker, loves to walk with us. I live on a cul-de-sac dirt road that winds through the pine trees to the river. On either side are ditches of rainwater, blackberry brambles, milkweed. Dog and cat heaven, in other words. I've avoided our regular route the past week, because of my back pain and missing Dakota's exuberant, joyful presence. Snuffling through the fallen leaves, sampling ditchwater, racing around the meadow, this was Dakota's favorite part of the day. But today, the sun was shining and the smell of fallen leaves returning to the earth was delicious in the air. We walked down to the house by the river where no one lives, where the grass has grown long and the dogs love to roll around. Tucker follows along just like another dog, popping kitty wheelies to be petted, and purring in complete contentment.

Tucker leaning in for some love.
photo by Joani N.

Me and my man Tim.
Photo by Joani N.

After lunch we got the call to come pick up my newest foster, Chilibean. Chili is being returned to the rescue after living with a family in Vermont for ... a while. Apparently, it wasn't working out. Out of respect for the family who will likely never in a million years read this blog, I won't say much more than that. I will just say that I'm proud to be part of a rescue group that can, in less than a few hours, organize a transport chain of four drivers to get a sad, lonely little dog who's been tied out all day to a new foster home two states away where he can sleep indoors, have fresh food and water, hugs and kisses, and walks down a dirt road bordered with milkweed and blackberry brambles. The other volunteers know I'm having a back issue right now and to prevent me having to sit in a car for any length of time made sure they got him to the turnpike exit that's a mere 10 minutes from my house.

Chilibean. A.K.A. Chilly-Willie. Chill-Bill. Mr. Bean.
Beanie-Weenie. The Ween. The Bean. Teeny.


SUBJECT MUCH CUTER THAN HE APPEARS IN PHOTO.

Pictured here wearing the latest in phlorescent harness fashions for those walks during hunting season in New England, is Chilibean. Half Chihuahua, half Miniature Pinscher, Chilibean has the most beguiling features each breed has to offer. The apple head and soft flippy ears of the chihuahua set on the more sturdy, bi-colored min-pin body. He doesn't just walk or trot, he prances. Except for when he's chasing a cat, and then he FLIES! With unwavering focus! Well, to be more clear - Chili Bean LOVES the cats and is just being friendly. Several of my more dog-savvy cats know to just stand there and let him sniff them and he's happy as pie. Two of the other cats RUN, which makes Mr. Bean think he is supposed to chase them! What fun! Aside from these harmless shenanigans, Chili-Willy is a true lap dog; he'd rather be sitting on you than be anywhere else. He stands on his hind legs to ask to be picked up. He is eager to please and to learn new tricks. I don't think he's been worked with much, but with a little time and training he could be the star of the agility team's midget division, I just know it!

Yesterday, both he and I were truly at the end of our ropes. Today? We both got a little reminder of what the world looks like when the sun shines. And how grateful I am to know that it still can.

A few short for the upcoming three dog nights...

My foster dog, Dakota, has gone to live with his new forever family! I drove him down to his new home in Portsmouth, NH yesterday and he slept curled up with his head in my hand the whole way down. The lovely young woman who will be Dakota's new best friend has another dog for Dakota to play with and, in fact, her dog is super-shy and the hope is that Dakota will help bring the other dog out of her shell a bit.

It was heartbreaking leaving him there (those eyes! he was just so confused that I wasn't bringing him with me!) but I am confident that he is in capable and loving hands. Dakota is the kind of dog that is trusting and open to new people, and the fact that he bonded so strongly to me after being here for so short a time (he was here for a month, but he decided I was trustworthy after about four minutes) is a great sign that he is able to adapt and form attachments to new people. I, on the other hand, am having a bit of a hard time with it! I sure will miss that goofy, loveable guy. And, you know, now I'll be down by two when we have another "three dog night." Heating oil is coming down in price, that's true, but for me, a couple of dogs on the bed is better than a nice warm quilt or cranking up the furnace. Better for the environment, too, because you can turn that thermostat down a few notches at bedtime.

Adopting a dog is good for the planet! :-) If you're buying what I'm selling, you might want to visit petfinder.com for your next bedwarmer.

In the meantime, (speaking of the quilt option...) Here's what I've got in progress:

"Tree of Life" panels going into a modified log cabin design for pillows.

Strips for the "Pinwheels" version of the Bamboo & Pinwheels design.

You know, the one I couldn't wait to start and so I didn't bother ordering the pattern? Well, the bamboo portion was pretty easy but the pinwheels -- oy vey! I'm just winging it. If I can't get it to look like the picture in the pattern I'm just going to pretend I invented a new design. ;-)

DAKOTA!

This is my new foster dog! He is a handsome lab/pointer mix about 2 years old. He's got this big boxy head I am just mad for and he is very, very laid-back. I picked up Dakota at transport and he greeted me with a kiss and then demonstrated he could "sit" and "give paw" for a treat. He walks well on a leash (doesn't drag you around), loves to ride in the car, and upon his arrival here at my house demonstrated some pretty socially-savvy dog manners. He defers to my resident dog, Tim, and even though he had just endured a grueling day on the transport trailer from Arkansas he patiently let Tim sniff his butt repeatedly, try to hump him, and follow him around incessantly - all without complaint.  He mostly just ignores the cats (except for Ebbie, who sidled right up to give him a cat greeting (rubbed up against him); and in return Dakota just gave him a lick on the head.

I love Dakota's "mittens."

We are not sure why this dog ended up in rescue; most of these dogs were simply found as strays in the South. As handsome as he is, Dakota is a victim of "black dog syndrome." My guess is that this guy had a loving home at one point; he is so well socialized and affectionate that it's hard to imagine that he has spent any great length of time on the lam or in the shelter. Previous foster family vouches for his awesomeness with their children and other pets also.

What strikes me the most about Dakota is that after all he's been through the past couple weeks, he is so trusting, so happy, so eager to please. He is constantly looking to my dog and to me to make sure he is doing what he is supposed to do, and his tail virtually never stops wagging. I'm getting all verklempt just thinking about it. He's going to make someone a GREAT family dog.

 
"Aren't I handsome!?"

DID SOMEONE SAY "FRITOS???"

I HAS A STICK

Here's Dakota, just chillin in the yard, catching a breeze. Dakota is such an awesome guy, he totally deserves to catch a break too; if you would like to meet Dakota drop me a note. If you are interested in adopting Dakota, or becoming a foster to one of these great dogs while they wait for their forever family to find them, visit Almost Home Rescue for more info and to fill out an application!