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• BBC NEWS | Pratchett leads showbiz honours
  That's <i>Sir</i> Pterry to you, buster. Another well-deserved honor for one of the funniest, talented, and creative geniuses of at least the last 100 years.
  (tags: news discworld uk newyearshonors pratchett yay)

Still here, still puttering around, still not getting much done. I did actually make it down to Griffin yesterday for lunch at my maternal grandmother’s, but even though I’d brought my own food (well, okay: just an Amy’s Kitchen tofu pot pie; I didn’t feel up to cooking), I didn’t actualy eat anything. I haven’t been feeling particularly hungry, though otherwise I’m pretty much okay except when going down stairs or otherwise jostling about. (Driving over bumpy roads is no fun at the moment.) It was good to see some of the extended family, though, and things went pretty well. One of my cousins brought her toddler along, who was vastly entertaining.

There is a lot I should be doing to prepare for my parents’ arrival tomorrow, when we’ll exchange gifts before they fly out to Vegas, but somehow I doubt much of it will get done. I’ve already told them that their knitted gifts (socks for my mom, a necktie for my dad) will not be finished by tomorrow — not only did I lose several days of knitting time before, during, and after my trip to Emory Hosp., but for some reason I cannot bear the thought of yarn when I’m feeling even slightly queasy. I’m not sure what is up with that, but there it is. Maybe it’s some sort of fear of associating the yarn, or the knitted object, with nausea, in the same way that something you’ve eaten shortly before becoming sick will often become associated with the illness, even if it wasn’t the cause. (Certainly, when I am in the grocery store and see packages of the frozen waffle fries I had eaten last year just before my first Entirely Not-Fun Episode, I still turn a little green.) At any rate, I hope to finish both items by the time the parents return from Vegas, which shouldn’t be too hard.

Things likely to be accomplished include picking up the dog-hair bunnies from the corners of the flat (a full vacuuming is probably out), dealing with the clean and dirty dishes in the kitchen, and (I hope) a trip over to Cosmo’s and possibly Sevananda for supplies. I’ve got some nice Xmas-y cookies for when my parents visit, and we’ll probably go to Soul Veg for lunch (I was originally going to prepare a modified version of Lolo’s seitan roulades, but, um, yeah, that’s not gonna happen right now), but I need Holly Nog, and probably some quick-and-dirty, simple, bland things to reheat for after Ze Surgery. I’m not sure exactly whether they’ll want me on a liquid diet when I go home, but I should probably have some vegan jello-type stuff on hand, and the makings for mashed potatoes. That, plus my “sickie tofu and rice business” (basically, boil-in-bag white rice mixed with crumbled extra-firm tofu, sprinkled with soy sauce; not super-nutritious, but soothing when you’re feeling poorly) should see me through.

On a positive note, it seems as though my initial estimate of being out from work for nearly a week was too pessimistic: after talking with relatives who’ve had a laparoscopic cholecystectomy, and a bit more poking around the InnerWebs, it’ll probably only involve overnighting in the hospital and maybe a day or two before normal activity resumes. So, yay. We’ll see what the surgeon recommends, of course, but I’m feeling much happier about that.

I still wish I’d gotten more accomplished for the holidays this year. I was looking forward to preparing a nice, proper meal and hosting my parents — despite the fact that I don’t have a dining table and we’d all be eating off plates balanced on our knees — and giving people more handmade gifts. I did manage five or six lace washcloths, but I never got past a trial run at making chocolate-covered pretzel sticks (though I did at least buy some sherry for the ganache, so maybe I could do that later for, um, Groundhog Day or something). The lavender sachets I was going to make? Zero progress. Ah, well. At least I’ve got some ideas stockpiled for next year.

And, to conclude this rather rambling and poorly composed post: in case I don’t post again before the new year, I’d like to convey my best wishes to all for a peaceful, happy, healthy, safe new year.

Whee, that was fun — but at least we now know for sure that it’s the gallstones that have been causing all these moments of fun, because they did another ultrasound in the ER and found one actually lodged in my common bile duct. It was blocking the whole thing, and apparently causing some mild pancreatitis as well. That was some fun, indeed.

Basically, to fix it, they stuck an apparatus down my throat and into the affected area, and cut a little slit in the duct so the stone could pass through. I’m supposed to call on Monday to set up a time for my actual, personal gallbladder to be removed, too. That will entail missing probably a week of work, but at least I should be fully recovered before the winter meeting in Chicago. ::fingers crossed::

Anyway, aside from some residual tenderness in the general belly region, I’m doing much better now.

On the positive side of the experience, the ER did give me some very fine drugs indeed. The staff members were also very nice every time I started barfing all over the place, and the ultrasound person actually was a lot of fun: she let me watch the screen as she took still shots, didn’t try to ram the ultrasound wand through my ribs like the last person did, and even told me that I had a “textbook” pancreas. (In context, I think that was a good thing.)

I don’t know whether I’ll be able to make it to Griffin tomorrow for Xmas dinner at my maternal grandmother’s house; I hope to be able to make the drive, but I’ll see how I feel. At least my parents, who are coming up on Saturday, have been alerted to the fact that (1) their knitted presents will most definitely not be finished in time, and (2) the flat will be an absolute disaster, because I doubt I’ll feel up to doing the heavy cleaning that would be necessary to get it shipshape, or even coracle-shape.

Sorry for the delay in posting updates; I only got out this afternoon, and once I collected the dogs (from Cindy and Darren’s kind care; thanks so much, guys!) and got home, I pretty much crashed out for a couple of hours.

Also, thank you so much to everyone who checked in or asked about me! It’s sometimes a little scary when you get sick and your only housemates lack such vital helping-out things as opposable thumbs and drivers’ licenses, but it’s very reassuring to know that there are people out there who are concerned, and who do care. Thank you!

The stomach thing — whatever it is, possibly gallstones — seems to be happening again. Bugger.

Discomfort started mid-afternoon, but that’s not too unusual. It’s just gotten progressively worse, and now I’ve started throwing up. It’s the same as before, with no fever, just pain and nausea.

It’s now about 11:45 at night, and I’m trying to decide whether I should try to drive myself to the hospital’s emergency room, or try to hang on until 7:30 or 8:00 Tuesday morning, when my regular doctor opens. Right now, I’m thinking I’ll try for the emergency room if I throw up again, which I kind of seem likely to do, given that my stomach still feels bad. (Normally, I feel a lot better after throwing up.)

At least the dogs are entertained. I just want to go to sleep, but that isn’t likely to happen. I could try taking some of the pain meds left over from last time, but then I wouldn’t be able to drive. Not good.

I was going to keep some cash on hand in case I needed to take a taxi, but that never worked out well. I’d prefer not to have to use an ambulance again, if at all possible, though.

Bleagh.

Normally at this time of year, I avoid the malls even more than I usually do — my tolerance for crowds, mobs, and other mass mutations of humanity being not particularly high at the best of times. Yesterday, however, I happened to be out running a holiday-related errand for my dad, and decided to drop in on the Lush store to pick up a few small stocking-stuffer-type gifts. (And if something for myself just happened to fall into the basket, well, then, it must be fate. I swear that I have less resistance in Lush shops than I do in yarn shops — particularly because Lush tends to have a helluva lot more vegan merch than your typical yarn shop.)

I puttered about for a while, pleased that the music was, for once, at a low enough volume that I could hear myself think. This is not just a problem in Lush shops. Bookshops, grocers, home decor stores: everywhere I go of a retail-type nature seems to be pumping out the music as if they think they’re a nightclub and not, for instance, a Target. I’ve tried mentioning — politely — while checking out that the music was so loud that Sinatra’s voice had entirely drowned out my own thoughts; I’ve tried actually walking through an entire shop with my fingers in my ears and my elbows sticking out, threatening to whack passersby on the head, in an attempt to keep the bubblegum pop artist of the moment from lodging permanently in my brain. Nothing seems to work. I guess the only thing to do is, when shop music is loud enough to vibrate small objects off display tables, to turn up my collar and start to boogie on down the aisles. I think I remember some choice moves from the disco thing my seventh-grade class had to learn for a performance before the PTA: point up, point down, point up, point down, slide-slide-slide, repeat, do the rolly thing with your hands, repeat from beginning, jazz hands, bow. Or I could imitate Stephen Fry’s Michael Jackson dance from “A Bit of Fry and Laurie” (not embeddable; sorry — but look at how young they both are! they’re just wee children, not old enough to cross the street by themselves; so cute). A few exposures to me dancing exuberantly in the middle of the store ought to teach them to lower the volume a smidge and not to rattle my dental fillings with their music. (Does that make me sound old? So be it.)

But I digress. I was happily puttering around in Lush and picking up this and that and the other rather expensive but absolutely lovely bath thingies (is it bad that the staff have started to recognize me? hmm). Eventually, I figured I’d better get out before I got too carried away, and as I approached the cash register I pulled out one of the little cotton tote bags I stash in my handbag for small shopping emergencies.

Now, generally, at most places the clerks just say, “Oh, you’ve got your own bag! I should remember to do that.” A few places, they’ll say thanks or give you a few cents discounted off your purchase. Some places just look blankly at the bag you brought and then try to put your items in a plastic bag anyway.

The Lush person, however, gave me a free Bio Fresh mask of my choice for bringing my own bag. Full size, too. Not a sample. Not one that’s about to expire and they needed to get rid of anyway, either. I was taken aback, but quite happy, especially given that that was the best freebie I’ve ever gotten. Granted, Lush shops have often thrown in free samples of goodies, particularly when you’re dropping some serious cash, but unless they’re running a special, like “spend $50 or more and get a free bath ballistic or soap bar,” they’ve always been, well, sample sizes. And yesterday’s purchase, though not entirely as fiscally responsible as it perhaps should’ve been, was pretty miniscule on the continuum of my spending at Lush, so I don’t think the size of the purchase was the main thing.

So, anyway, the point is that I don’t have to deal with another temporary bag to recycle or reuse, I scored a free face mask, and I’m even happier with Lush than ever. Not that I needed a reinforcer to encourage me to keep bringing my own bags, but if I did, that certainly would do it.

Apparently, I have gone from being a tight knitter to a somewhat loose one. (Translation for the non-knit-lingual of those among you: things I knit tend to turn out a little bigger than intended, even if I swatch and go down a needle size or two from that recommended by the pattern.)

When I first learned to knit, as a teenager, my knitting was so tight you would’ve thought I was so anal-retentive that I couldn’t sit down for fear of being suctioned forever to the chair. Basically, this stemmed from the idea that I could make the yarn, and thus my limited yarn budget, go farther if I used less yarn per stitch. Who cared if I could barely get the needle in to knit the next row? I was saving a couple of millimeters of yarn per stitch, and if my hands hurt and my knitting looked wonky, then so be it. The money I saved by sacrificing my knitting and not buying another ball of the cheap acrylic yarn could be used for another Piers Anthony novel, or Pet Shop Boys tape, or whatever it was I spent my money on when I was sixteen.

Lately, though, I seem to have gone in the other direction. Needing my fingers to bend without pain so I can earn a living and pay for the dogs’ life of indolence has been one factor; the yarns I’ve been using lately have been another. Cotton and, particularly, hemp yarns have very little give, and the combination of lace work that involves lots of SK2Ps or similar contortions of stitches with yarns about as stretchy as bricks soon teaches you to leave a fair amount of wiggle room in your stitches. (Incidentally, the latest issue of Knit.1 has instructions for a vertical decrease! Not a left-leaning or right-leaning decrease: vertical! How cool is that? [I beg your pardon for that excess of geekdom. I just thought it was a freaking amazing echo of triple crochet in knitting, and got carried away there.])

And that, basically, is what leads us to this sort of result — even when I tell myself that the acrylic I’m currently using is stretchier than hemp yarn, and I should tighten my stitches just a little bit more. Going down a needle size or two doesn’t seem to help much. Things turn out slightly bigger than I’d anticipated, even after paying homage to the Swatching Gods, and the hat intended for one of my grandmothers can, with minimum effort, be pulled down to the tip of my nose. Given that she’s rather shorter and smaller-framed than I am, what was intended as a beanie will probably be a gargantuan, sloppy, misshapen beret on her.

Oh well. Maybe I just won’t mention that it was meant to be a beanie and just cover her ears. It’s a sloppy, easy-going hat with lots of ease for comfort. Yeah, that’s it. Those are all the rage now, right? Right?

Right? (Please, I’m desperate here. I still have one entire cabled sock and a necktie to finish before Xmas. I don’t think I have time to reknit a hat before the deadline without bursting an artery or hemorrhaging something.)

• More Than Just Duplicitous and Evil: Joss Whedon on Crafts and Craftiness
  The editor of <i>Interweave Crochet</i> interviews Joss Whedon. No, really. How cool is that? (Via The AntiCraft.)
  (tags: cool geek crochet craftygoodness josswhedon)