Where I've Been...

Here:

I have a few hours of tagging ahead of me before I can ship a big fatty box to Cloverhill Yarn Shop for MDSW. No sigh of relief, however, as production mode shall remain in full swing until C takes my studio away...I will have zero fiber for nearly an entire month. I am building inventory like a crafter possessed. No sleep for me. Oddly enough, I don't even want the sleep. This deadline business has been fueling my creative fire rather than dampening it. I just can't get enough wool play.

There are other places I've been....mainly enjoying the quiet of the housemates (a family of five) having been away for two whole weeks. I had no idea how much I missed about having my own cozy home. We function much more smoothly as a family unit on our own...I need a village, not shared housing.

I've also been in packing mode in between things like eating and felting. We're aspiring to a much higher standard of pre-loading organization this time around, because we won't be able to unpack right away when we get there, maybe not for several weeks or months, and will undoubtedly need to find this or that in a box somewhere. I'm not at all anxious about this and that's a BIG FAT LIE.

Okay, I've gotta know...***BRIMFIELD LADIES***...what is UP?!?
which day? can it be on a weekday, like Friday? (I have a fiber fest on the 16th I really shouldn't flake on, but will if I have to)
I want to see you all and fight over buttons at least this once before I leeeeeeaaaaave.

It's official.

I'm going to miss this place.

I've been spending my days in a wistful haze, quietly drinking in sounds and smells, trying to take in as much of this amazing seasonal transition as I can...knowing the seasonal shifts in the redwoods will be the merest of subtleties compared to the utter bursting forth that is a New England Spring.

I'm going to miss this girl, too:

My Alice.
But she's a Vermont girl and has zero interest in long journeys and the salty sea. She likes bracken. And lots of it. And she probably won't miss me all that much. Or at all. But I'm okay with this.

Really, I'm okay with all of this. If only because I am very distracted with the fact that I have only two more weeks until Twist and less than that to ship out for Maryland Sheep and Wool.
I have been mad prepping:

Have not even begun work on the shiny new thing that I intend to have ready for both. Luckily, I can run remarkably well on very little sleep.

Since C has been back and housemates have still been away, there has been family time and even a few quiet moments in the day...I had forgotten what it was like. We are quite the efficient little unit when we have our own space and time to manage. I really enjoy not needing to schedule my laundry and showers.

C leaves soon...in a few weeks time. A solo drive. The whole storage idea became ridiculously expensive. So, the standard moving rig it is, and we'll just have to move everything around a lot when we work on things like the floors and such. The little guy and I are still planning on taking the train...just the two of us...a few weeks behind C so he can get some of the more major work done without having to worry about kid-safety, or un-safety as the case may be.

I'm going now to soak up the remaining bits of this glorious Spring day. And eat a popsicle.
xoxoxo

I love today...

*Woke up, feeling empowered...fed the horse and the sheep and goats and the chickens, even the nasty rooster who went out of his way to attack me yet again, pilled and fed the dogs and then the cats, built a fire, made an awesome multi-grain hot cereal, got us dressed and out the door for 8:30am school...

*Seems I should be left alone with a shitload to do more often.

*Took an amazing snowy, hilly, winding, windy walk to my friend's house where we had tea and knit on things.

*Came home to find that C had called...we are 100% go on this place...we will be in the heart of redwood forest...oh how I have missed those amazing trees...5 acres not 3...some prime veggie-growing conditions once the brush is cleared and terrain that is perfect for raising goaties again. So much work to be done to make it a safe place to live, though, that C is thinking about going out there a few weeks maybe a month ahead of the little guy and i so he can get started on creating a livable space before we get there. I intend to spend most of my time outside this summer, anyway, but it would be nice if there was, you know, a place to cook, a dry place to sleep and that kind of thing. The views are of pretty much the whole damn Bay all the way to Monterey. This is so worth the leap.

*With this slight change of plans (staying behind for a few weeks), I may not entirely miss strawberry season in Vermont.

*I have an amazing yarn on the bobbin I hope the little guy lets me finish. Time to get him.

*Whoooooooooooooo!

April 8, 2009

*C's out there right now...camping out at the place we're likely moving to in less than two months time. Want desperately to know what's going on, his thoughts, what it looks like feels like smells like...anything. No cell service so am in the dark. Boo x 10, I'm feeling anxious.

*This is my first night alone in this house. The housemates left (also for California coincidentally), and now I am in charge of my boy, a giant nipping draft horse, three crazy voyeuristic sheep (they are endlessly watching the windows of the house from the pasture), three goats (including one master escapee), two dogs that need to be pilled (one of which has taken to leaving diarrhea on the floor) and two awesome cats (who require very little from me). Oh, and about fifteen chickens and one asshole rooster who bruised my calf the other day.

*Am looking forward to when the roads are no longer the consistency of cake batter. Seems I will be neighborhood-bound for the next few days as even the all-wheel-drive Subaru is no match for the deep, gooey ruts from our driveway to the main road. Had to park it a mile and some away at the town center.

*At least for a couple of days the SNOW and frigid cold will harden up that cake batter I mentioned, making a more pleasant walk to the car if I desperately need it, but it's a long walk for a four-year-old. And snow? Come ON. There's even talk of accumulation.

*Will need to rent a car to make the 3 and a 1/2 hour drive to pick up C from the airport on Saturday. I'm out a wheel bearing and strut. See that part about cake batter.

*Wind is wild and whipping about. I'm surprisingly non-plussed by this whole situation. Just getting sleepy...finally.

This week...

*I made things.

*And ate things.

*And my baby turned FOUR.

( Birthday stuff and FooooooD )

The first question out of his mouth this morning was "How do rocket ships go up in the sky?"

Whoa. How did we get here.

I put the house in his birthday ring to represent the journey to our new home...he's getting really excited about it (as are we)...and much of his imaginary play is centered around going to California. He got a pail and beach tools from his Nonna and spent much of yesterday "digging" on the bed beach. "When will it be summer?"

If only there weren't totally overwhelming preparations to be made before we get to a California beach or I would be frolicking in imaginary sand right along with him. We were hoping for a POD for moving our stuff ('cause I'd really like to take the train across), but it seems that, even though they service 48 states, Vermont isn't one of them. Another option we are exploring is a freight car...this seems so ridiculous, but we are bringing building materials and insulation materials and a cookstove and and...much more than we would normally move...so things get BIG and heavy really quickly. Plus, we'll need storage when we get there because the place is not exactly move-in ready. Basically, we need to be able to put our stuff in a box, move the box, and then keep the stuff in the box for a while after we get it there. Must be a way...

Back to taking the train across...looks like we can stop in NYC, Kansas City (

insubordiknit : hang out for a day or two at the end of May, bake things and knit things?!??), Santa Fe and then San Francisco. However, Amtrak website is not helping me figure it all out. Will talk to a human on Monday. Same for the Pod People. There just must be a way...

Alright, now he just asked, "Can you drink blood?"
It's time to go have breakfast.

Wow.

For many reasons.

Firstly, THANK YOU everyone SO VERY MUCH for all the well wishes. They worked! I am feeling tons better this weekend...still taking it easy, but starting to eat more than soup and smoothies, and just overall feeling like an almost-normal version of myself.

Secondly, the new camera came while I was in hospital and I played with it a bit yesterday. Hello learning curve! Whoooooooo...but, when I get my SLR legs back, I know I'm going to love this thing.

Thirdly, SPRING IS HERE. Like, in an obvious way. Proof:

Romping animals. Notice there is one dog digging, another rolling about and chickens just plain chickening all over the place, pecking at dirt! and dead vegetation! (read: stuff that ISN'T COVERED IN SNOW).

And there's been some of this;

And this guy:

It went like this:
(on phone, Me in the hospital bed, C on the phone at home)
Me: Will he talk to me?
C: I don't know...let me check...(to little guy) Do you want to talk to Mama? (can be heard in background: Where is she?) She's still at the doctor's...want to talk to her? (little guy: No.) He doesn't want to talk on the phone. (little guy to C: Are there toys at the hospital?) I don't know...Shannon, are there toys at the hospital?
Me: Why don't you have him ask me?
C: Why don't you ask Mama that? (there is a pause. and some shuffling about)
LG: (reluctantly) OK. (a pause) Mama, are there toys at the hospital?
Me: No, sweet pea. Are yo- (stops herself as she realizes phone has been dropped. breathes long sigh.)

But he was very glad to see me when I got home. Really.

Home again, home again.

I cannot imagine how anyone can actually heal in a hospital.
I felt helpless and hopeless and totally alone, even though the whole place was teeming like some giant antfarm with people in all manner of uniforms.

And don't even get me started on how uncomfortable the bed is.

I read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it helped me not feel so damn sorry for myself.

I went in early Tuesday morning...I had been experiencing pain in my stomach since Saturday night that grew increasingly worse and increasingly localized to my right lower abdomen. I held off going as long as I could, but Monday night was sleepless from pain, so emergency is where I ended up.

They poked and prodded, stuck an IV in me, than later some blood. Said it was likely I had appendicitis, but that my white blood count was low and so they need to do more tests.

That's all I knew until someone came in with three bottles of this hideous white, radioactive liquid and told me to drink it all up, yum yum. It took every ounce of will I possessed and some I didn't even know I possessed to keep it all down, but I did it. I was proud of myself, even. Reading my book, trying to forget what I'd read about the ingredients on the bottle. When it was noticed that I'd finished, I was whisked away to a room with a big, scary-looking machine...then came the barium enema (even writing the gory details would make me puke right now) and some weird shit into my IV drip that made my legs hot and my mouth taste metallic. Fucking thought I was in some sort of alien ship being experimented on. It was loud and I cried and cried and they told me to stop breathing and then to breathe and I wanted to scream but I couldn't.

I was wheeled into a new room a little bit later and within the hour I started losing all that white stuff I drank in unimaginably humiliating ways. This is when the helplessness really sunk in...I couldn't make it to the bathroom...I was covered in the stuff, it was all over the floor and all over my gown, but my IV was tangled up in everything and so I had to push the button. They had to move me to a different room where it happened all over again and again and I felt somehow like I had to apologize even though I didn't drink the stuff by choice.

They said, yes indeed, you have appendicitis, we're calling the surgeon. Yippee. Get the mother out of me and let go HOME.

Surgeon comes in sometime later...I can stay in my bed long enough to listen to him before I run back into the bathroom, dragging my pole full of baggies. I wonder why they keep asking me if I want pain killers. How the fuck am I supposed to tell you how I feel if I can't feel anything? Maddening. Anyway, surgeon says he's not 100% sure it's appendicitis anymore, now that he's looked at the scan and how about he go look at it again with another radiologist. More waiting.

Nope. He's not convinced. How about I stay the night with things dripping into me and we'll do some other kinds of tests for other things in the morning? Either that, or he cuts into me now and takes out anything that looks funny. Including pieces of my intestines if he has to. No thanks, I'll stay here.

IV has been flopping around too much. I can't hold a book with the hand on that arm. A nice lady comes and readjusts it for me and then I can at least try to sleep. Doesn't happen. Too much light and sound...and coming in to check my vitals. I want to scream I'M NOT DYING, JUST LET ME GO TO SLEEP! I can lay in bed now for a long time without having to go you-know-where. The synthetic foam mattress makes me sweat, but if I take the blankets off I shiver and shake. I have a fever. I want my mommy. And my husband. And my little guy, who is sleeping peacefully, snug and warm.

The night is long. I'm alone for long stretches and it makes me feel like a baby. I want to cry out. I want to feel like somebody cares about more than my beeping machine. Someone comes to take some more blood, notes how the last person really "bruised me up good" and too bad that's my only vein. Yup. Only one I've got.

In the morning they bring me coffee. I have not eaten in 36 hours, nor do I drink coffee. I can't imagine that is good for anyone who had only water for a day and a half. Acid reflux anyone?. Surgeon comes in, says maybe ovarian cyst has ruptured. I get an x-ray, come back upstairs, start my period, get a pelvic ultrasound, come back upstairs. The pain is so much less, surgeon is glad of that, but he doesn't think it has anything to do with the antibiotics. I'm certainly glad I could give him an accurate report since I didn't take any pain killers. He says maybe viral infection. He says I'm "mysterious." Later, when he's looked at those other tests he says there is nothing conclusive. He is worried about the inflammation but that none of my symptoms fit together to form a complete picture. But there is also no reason for keeping me there. Heavens be praised!

He does, however, say that I need to come back in two weeks for one of those scans. I will tell the whole world right now that I will never drink that white stuff again. Surgeon says we'll just do the test to be sure nothing's there. The stuff didn't get far enough down the first time we took it and he'd like to see that area in more detail. Well, gee, didn't it say on the bottle to wait an hour but instead they wheeled me right down, isn't that what happened? Why do I know more about that shit I drank than they do? I decide I am getting well and no way will I drink that stuff again. Surgeon says don't worry, you won't need the enema. Least of my worries, pal.

I wait a while longer for my release. Nurse fails to bring me tea. Other nurse brings tea an hour later then fails to bring me a hot water bottle. Tea-forgetting nurse comes with release papers. Whew!

Husband comes with clothing. All I want to do is stand up. It is the only thing that sounds at all comfortable and they won't let me do it. They wheel me out and it's so...Victorian or something. Oh, well. I have regular clothes on and have not been cut into. There is homemade chicken broth on the stove because my husband is amazing and wonderful and wished he could do more than that. But it is the best thing I've ever heard of.

I am home. I eat a little bit of rice now and then and sip miso. People are taking care of me. I am tired and weak and shaky and sore, but people are taking care of me. I am thankful, so thankful that I didn't have to spend more time there, that the surgeon looked twice at my scan, that they didn't send me home with a prescription. So thankful. Not knowing what is wrong but going home to my family is about a thousand times better than trying to be comfortable in that freezing cold, sterile room where I need to remember to pee in the little bowl, where my requests are forgotten because there a people there who need help so much more than I do.

I'm feeling better. I will continue to, and that is nice to know.