High Calcium Levels

So ... my doctor's office called ... they want to do more blood tests because  my calcium levels are too high.  I always thought it would be a good thing to have lots of calcium.  Nope ... it always means there is a problem.  The most common one is hyperparathyroidism ... 98% of cases of high Ca ... The second cause is cancer ... but ususally not the cause if you are not really sick with a malignancy. 

So ... what is this hyper parathyroidism?  I am not quite sure but I do know it is fixable ...

And these are the symptoms ... I have starred my own ...

Symptoms of Parathyroid Disease
    *Loss of energy. Don't feel like doing much. Tired all the time. Chronic fatigue.
    *Just don't feel well; don't quite feel normal. Hard to explain but just feel kind of bad.
    *Feel old. Don't have the interest in things that you used to.
    *Can't concentrate, or can't keep your concentration like in the past.
    Depression.
    Osteoporosis and Osteopenia.
    Bones hurt; typically it's bones in the legs and arms but can be most bones.
    *Don't sleep like you used to. Wake up in middle of night. Trouble getting to sleep.
    *Tired during the day and frequently feel like you want a nap.
    Spouse claims you are more irritable and harder to get along with (cranky, bitchy).
    Forget simple things that you used to remember very easily (worsening memory).
    Gastric acid reflux; heartburn; GERD.
    Decrease in sex drive.
    Thinning hair (predominately in middle aged females on the front part of the scalp).
    Kidney Stones.
    High Blood Pressure (sometimes mild, sometimes quite severe; up and down a lot).
    *Recurrent Headaches (usually patients under the age of 40). (*just starting agai after years of being headache free.)
    Heart Palpitations (arrhythmias). Typically atrial arrhythmias.



So ... at least there's a reason for being exhausted all the time ...


Now to get things back to normal.

Random Thoughts While Home with the Flu

"The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are of loving in the present."  Barbara De Angelis

I read this today and was glad it was one of the truths I discovered a long time ago.  I think my profession helped me understand it back when I was very young, still in my early twenties.  If a teacher harbours grudges she will not be happy in her job.  A classroom is one of the situations in which a short memory is an asset.  Every day has to be a new day.

Oh, I have forgotten the lesson at times ... I'm still not very forgiving toward the incompetent doctor who misdiagnosed and mistreated my broken dislocated finger ... and I still do not trust the Hull and Gatineau hospitals ... but generally speaking I forgive easily ... and indeed, often forget as well.

Old spouses and lovers have long ago been forgiven.  As have my parents.  I think once I understand why an adult  acts as he does, it is easier to get over a hurt, a fear, or a bit of cruelty.

Thank you, Barbara De Angelis, for the reminder.

I am nursing a flu bug.  Well actually, I am treating myself very gently, and enduring the flu bug, swatting it with regular blasts of Cold FX which bolsters my white blood cells' ability to do the actual fighting.  I am also fueling my immune system with Vitamin C and drinking plenty of hot teas and water ... (and just a little wine).  As well, I am dressing in cozy snuggly bugglies and an old cashmere turtleneck I brought back from Mongolia ten years ago.The sore throat began on Monday and my choice of treatment seems to be working well, as I am already feeling better today than I did yesterday.

And now we have our first winter storm arriving so I will be snowed in until I have the energy to dig myself out.  This means that I likely won't be doing much besides resting and pampering myself until Saturday.

I do hope that we don't lose power.  These winds are very strong and gusty ... the kind that hydro poles seem unable to withstand.  And my wood supply has not yet arrived.  I have a few bags of logs ... but not enough for any lengthy outage.

If necessary I will get Peter to help me pick up more logs tomorrow.  I think he will be coming.  And now that we have snow I can get my big order delivered next weekend.

I think I will start my gift for Le Hibou today ... the base coat anyway ... and then it will become something to play with.  I am planning a Zentangle owl with just a single splash of colour.

Good thoughts needed by Pat, who is getting heavier doses of a stronger antibiotic to help her weakened immune system, and by Shea (Tamarak's dog) who is having surgery tomorrow.  We hope it will be to remove the lump, not the front leg.  Dogs are great at adjusting to three legs, but Shea loves to swim and that might be harder to manage than walking and running.  Maybe we could fit him with a small rubber flipper-like prosthesis if it became necessary.  Now there is a puzzle for an inventive engineer to solve!

Whoosh! Updated

Another flying visit is over. Mud Mama, Maurice, Sprout and Micah all left this morning to return to Nova Scotia, leaving behind them lots of dog hair, several items placed out of reach of 1 1/2 year old hands, and an empty space in my heart. I always breathe a sigh of relief when they leave and then feel as though I'm much more alone than I was before they arrived. This time, however, they will be back in a month so it's easier.

Daughter #2 has come through her surgery with flying colours and no invasion of the lymph nodes ... I am breathing again.

I started cleaning a couple of hours ago and am now melting ... and my place is cool compared to the city. Kenya and I are going to take a swim as soon as I finish this post. Tonight I will try out the yoga class again and tomorrow I will get two more DVD holders from Ikea. Then I will paint a table to put into that niche in the living area and create a painted shelf to secure the four tall skinny cabinets together and anchor them to the wall. As soon as I name the photos taken with my new camera I will retrieve and post them so you can see what I mean.

Then it will be back to the chairs and the knitted socks. I am attending a meeting of interested artisans who live near Wakefield on Friday evening. We are trying to set up some kind of artisans' co-op so that we can work together to sell our products without having to always be with our things.

The camera is proving its ability by taking excellent photos of Kenya. It is very hard to take a good photo of a black dog with an inferior camera. Soon you will be able to see just how beautiful she is without having to smell her now that she is swimming every day and trapping smelly things in her, still-shedding, undercoat.

The first photo I have tried to upload is the Sprout in motion ... WHOOSH! ... it is taking a very long time ... hope that doesn't mean that the camera is incompatible with dial-up! Can anyone tell me how to save these photos in a smaller format? I am an absolute novice with an SLR and know far too little about the technology we all use daily. I have been trying for half an hour and am now giving up.

I must get ready for my day!

Muffins and Procrastination

I have drawn on my new chair, with chalk, the main elements of the painting but I am putting off taking paint brush in hand. Oh, I know, I can always sand it back down to the primer if I mess up ... but I am still procrastinating.

So, lucky you, you get the recipe Tamarak sent me. It was used in a Canadian study of newly diagnosed breast cancer patients and was found to reduce tumours by 30 percent. It is the flax seed that is the miracle worker. But even if you are skeptical about the effect, do try these. They are yummy, moist, easy and salt-free. The only fat comes from what is in the milk and the flax seed, so they are high fibre and low fat as well.

SUPER FLAX SEED MUFFINS
350 degrees; 18 muffins
apparently work miracles against cancer cells

Combine in large bowl: 1 ½ c. whole wheat flour
1 1/2 c. ground flax seed
3/4 c. brown sugar
1 T baking powder
1 t. nutmeg
2 t. cinnamon


Combine in another bowl: 2 c. milk
1 beaten egg

Add liquids to dry mixture and stir just enough to blend. Don't over mix. If you like, add grated carrot, raisins or chopped raw almonds.

Spoon into muffin tins and bake 20-25 minutes.

These are yummy and freeze well.



Yesterday Sarah came to pick up Remi, and she and Lucas spent the day with me. I will miss Remi. Tamarak has a couple of great shots of him with Kaiah, the pocket-sized puppy. Take a look! (http://tamarakstable.blogspot.com) on my side bar.

And now off to paint creamy sheep!

Jobs, my Finger, and Tamarack's Birthday

Today is Tammy's birthday. Happy Birthday to you!

We are having a small party here to celebrate.

Yesterday I received one of those multimillion byte emails that knock my dial-up connection for a loop so that I have to take extraordinary measures to read it at all. This one was (FINALLY) the invitation to teach secondary teachers of English for a three month stint in Mongolia. My heart always soars when I get such news, but I had to refuse.

1. The pay was too little to do more than barely cover the cost of boarding Kenya somewhere.

2. Three months is a long time to be away.

3. Because they were so late getting this out I would have no time to prepare. (The first camp starts March 4!)

4. I have a feeling that their disorganization in one thing will likely mean that they are completely disorganized in most things, and I might find myself hating every minute of my time there!


Mud Mama sent me a site that she thought I should read. It was like reading about my horrible finger experiences through a veil of very black humour. If that sort of thing appeals to you, go to http://outlookdoubtful.blogspot.com. She has photos and everything. She nearly cut hers off in November and the sad tale continues through the surgery to remove excess scar tissue to ending her love-hate affair with Percocet.

And now I have to ice a cake. Have a great weekend.

Sick and Tired of being Sick and Tired

I called my GP today about my laryngitis and she has faxed a prescription for thrush to my pharmacy.

I am sleeping better now ... as a matter of fact, I seem to be trying to catch up on the the six weeks of almost no sleep now. It is a real effort to get dressed in the morning and I am taking frequent naps during the day.

I am also free of the salt taste in my mouth and the constant hunger.

But my eyes are straining and everything seems blurrier than it should despite frequent polishing of lenses. I see the ophthalmologist again on the 19th.

I really hope this nonsense ends soon. It has been almost two months since the first visit to the ER.

Here is the Oma's basic sauces page:

BASIC MEAT SAUCE

ONIONS, LEEKS OR SHALLOTS
cooked till golden in

OIL
+
(GARLIC)

add and brown
GROUND MEAT OR SAUSAGE
***
FLUID
+
VEGGIES
+
HERBS OR SPICES

simmered either on stove top or in oven at 350 degrees till tender and thickened ... often hours

served with

PASTA, RICE, COUSCOUS
cooked separately and either mixed into cooked sauce or used as a base

GARNISHES

SOME CHOICES USED ALONE OR IN COMBINATION

MEATS: GROUND BEEF, VEAL, PORK, LAMB, POULTRY OR SAUSAGE ... EVEN SPARE RIBS AND STEW BEEF CAN BE USED ... AND CURED MEATS LIKE PROSCIUTTO OR DICED HAM...

VEGGIES: CARROTS, OTHER ROOT VEGETABLES, ZUCCHINI AND OTHER SQUASHES,CELERY, MUSHROOMS, PEPPERS, PARSLEY

FLAVOURINGS: SALT, PEPPER, NUTMEG + HERB MIX OF YOUR CHOICE:

ITALIAN HERBS: OREGANO, MARJORAM, THYME, BASIL, RED PEPPER FLAKES, LEMON ZEST

GREEK MIX: CINNAMON, BAY LEAF, MINT, WINE VINEGAR

ARMENIAN COMBO: BAY LEAF, ALLSPICE, CUMIN, CAYENNE, CINNAMON

CURRY: FRESH GINGER, CAYENNE, CORIANDER, CINNAMON, CLOVES, CARDAMOM

HUNGARIAN: CARAWAY, PAPRIKA, THYME

FLUIDS: WINE, CANNED TOMATOES, WATER, STOCK, TOMATO PASTE, COCONUT MILK

FINAL FLAVOURINGS: LEMON JUICE, LIME JUICE, SOUR CREAM, YOGURT

GARNISHES: CHEESE, LEAVES OF PARSLEY OR CORIANDER, FRESHLY GRATED PEPPER

LEFTOVERS? FREEZE IN SERVING SIZES

No Magical Mid-night Moments, but Life is Good

I am getting so little sleep these nights (and days) that I can't seem to be fully awake at any time, let alone truly receptive to magic.

I managed to have fun yesterday afternoon despite exhaustion. Shopping therapy of the best kind. I went to a secondhand store in a local community centre basement and spent $6.50. I got a sweater (possibly for felting), a great cotton shirt to wear with jeans, two books on crafts, and several interesting tins for keeping my craft materials organized. Then I went to Giant Tiger and (for $25) bought a very cheap bookcase with heavy fabric bins in cheerful colours to put into the bookcase with the tins. I am creating a craft corner in my den where I can keep all these bits and pieces organized and cheerful. Today I will pick up two more bookcases so that I can stack one on top of the other horizontally and place one beside those vertically.

I also did the "legwork" acting as a go-between for Layla's Sound the Alarm fund raising and an old friend in Kenya who is putting a neighbour's son through high school. It is never as easy as you hope, but I have established a good network now that makes it possible. I have also learned to navigate the murky waters of self interest and politics so that the money can flow without rancour or malicious gossip.

Layla will be going to Kenya this summer to do her own research into finding where to put the money she raises. She will have to establish all those lines of communication and make her own way through the tangled growth of lies and malice that mark the world of good will in Western Kenya. I hope that my experience can help her as she makes her way.

I would love to go with her to make this first trip easier but I can't figure out a way to raise the airfare and other expenses. And I would love to see my old friends one last time as well. The last time I was there I felt as if I had come home.

Today I will also go to see the ophthalmologist again and hope that he has something to suggest for the side effects of the prednisone.

Here is Chapter 2 of Explosion for anyone interested.


CHAPTER 2 -- TUNA FISH SANDWICHES AND TEA

Alice Johnson looked around the home economics lab after the last grade nine student had hurried through the door. She often thought that it was a pleasant room when it wasn't overrun by clumsy adolescent girls who would rather be anywhere but in a classroom. Even on a grey November day like this one, the cheerful red-checkered cloths on the institutional arborite tables, and the cafe curtains, with their checkered tie-backs that Doreen Hilton had sewn last year, created a cheerful atmosphere. She remembered her mother's kitchen with its startling fire engine red ceiling, the only touch of colour in a scoured white kitchen. It had always pleased her that her mother had, one day, in a whimsical moment, brightened her life in this way.

A shadow crossed Alice's face as she turned to take a crumpled brown paper lunch bag from the refrigerator. She filled the enamel kettle with water for her tea. It was exhausting having to face a new group every term; having to re-establish the rules and teach them things they should have learned at home. What were parents doing with their children these days? Some of these new girls had never boiled an egg, and were quite disinterested in learning the correct procedure. And they never seemed to listen. Even after they had copied a note stating clearly that gentle cooking was necessary to prevent toughening, there were two stations where the heat was turned to high for the entire fifteen minutes. Her mother had made sure she understood the necessity of keeping a decent house long before she'd ever taken a home economics course.

She poured boiling water over the tea bag in the small metal pot and returned the kettle to the stove, giving its already spotless white surface a swipe with a tea towel. Then she removed two wax-paper-wrapped sandwiches from the refrigerator, one tuna, the other cheese, carefully re-folding the bag and putting it into her purse. She seldom varied her lunch menu; it was easier to stay in a routine than to think of something new to eat each day. She'd heard that in Norway, all the teachers in the country opened their lunch bags at 11:00 a.m. and ate bread and brown cheese as they drank coffee in their staff rooms. She seldom ate with the staff, preferring the solitude of her classroom to the discussions about students and the idle chatter she associated with the teachers' lunch room.

For the first few years, Alice had attended staff functions, thinking it politic to do so. She recalled vividly the Christmas party five years ago which had ended her reluctant participation.

They'd all gathered in the staffroom at four. The room, decorated by Elsie Maxwell's art class looked a little gaudy, but no matter; it was the thought that counted. Elsie had collected her accolades with a great beaming smile and the words,"It was all the children's doing, really."

Stuff and nonsense, of course. The students would never have thought of the idea on their own, let alone executed it. It was a good way to get out of the last class before the Christmas holiday, that's what it was. But Alice had said nothing.

The food was all laid out near the kitchenette area ... cookies, cakes, dainty sandwiches, and Alice's Christmas mints. A punch bowl with little cups hanging on the rim sat at one end of the table. Doreen Hilton said cheerfully, "There are only eight punch cups, I'm afraid, so after that we'll have to use paper." Grace Hanson had asked, her thin scarlet lips pursed, whether there was alcohol in the punch, and Doreen had laughed and said, "No fear, Grace. Mr. Harris warned me that the school board would look askance if I added the usual rum."

Grace had sniffed and whispered later to Alice, "I've no doubt she'd have put it in if she thought she could get away with it. In our day, Alice, young women wouldn't have thought of drinking alcohol."

She'd looked at Grace thinking that their day had been a hundred years ago, and wondered if the librarian had ever been young, but she'd said merely, "Times change, Grace," and had walked over to the food table.

Doug Adams and Helen Brown were filling their plates."What in God's name are these things?" Doug had asked pointing to the pastel mints.

"They're Alice Johnson's mints, Doug," Helen had replied. "I'm sure they're very good."

"Probably as sour as she is," he responded, and passed them by.

"Don't be cruel," Helen had said softly, and then had looked up and seen Alice. She had reddened, dropped her paper plate, and attempted to cover her confusion with a
mishmash of French and English apologies for her clumsiness. Doug had simply walked away from the scene.

When Helen had asked Alice to join her and some of the other women, Alice had been unable to think of an excuse and had joined them on the sofa. Margaret Cole, a first year teacher, and terribly keen, was expounding on how wonderful her students were. To hear her talk, one would think that she was teaching saints, not teenagers. Helen Brown asked how she managed to control them so well, and admitted to having problems with discipline. Margaret said that the students' natural interest in stories and writing was half the battle, and Helen said she wished there were even a smidgen of natural interest in learning French. "There are tricks to discipline just as there are to anything else," a bombastic health teacher had said. "You have to look at the problem in a clear headed detached way and figure out the solution. It doesn't work to try and solve it in the middle of a classroom riot." The animated conversation had continued long after Alice had excused herself.

She found herself stuck in between Jim Sullivan and Bill Stevens, both social studies teachers, but as far apart in age, experience and attitude as two men could be. Jim had come back into teaching after the war. His ideas had been rigid when he left, but were absolutely calcified by the time he came home. Now he expected students to behave like little soldiers who never questioned their commanding officer, and who spat back his own words verbatim on every test. Bill, a first year teacher, was trying to explain the importance of getting students to think for themselves, to work with facts to reach conclusions. "Ridiculous to expect a fourteen year old to come up with anything intelligent, man," Bill had stated unequivocally. Jim had said something about how discussion among students kindled good ideas, and been given a tongue lashing that ended with the words, "Garbage in, garbage out. Keep on with that kind of sloppy thinking, young man, and we might as well kiss standards goodbye."

By five thirty, Alice had said perhaps ten words, and had heard thousands more than she wanted to hear. It seemed as if there were two camps: those who were completely out of touch with students and those who were completely out of touch with reality. She knew her students would place her in the first category, but in truth she belonged nowhere.

She was about to leave when Mr. Harris arrived dressed as Santa, and asked that June Wallace, the music teacher, go ahead with her surprise. Several teachers got up, left the staffroom and returned dressed in green tunics wearing jaunty elves' caps on the heads. June blew into her pitch pipe, and the group burst into song, performing a Christmas medley. When they asked the remaining staff members to join them in some carols at the end, Alice had not opened her mouth. Why hadn't they asked her if she wanted to be part of the choir? Because she wouldn't have looked good in the outfit? Or because no one even stopped to think that she might have something to offer? She'd left before the applause and hadn't gone into the staffroom voluntarily since.

Just as she was pouring her tea, there was a knock at the door. Who's forgotten something, this time? she wondered, as she made her way to respond. "Oh, hello, Sir. What can I do for you?" she asked, and wondered what in heaven's name Mr. Harris was doing here. "I've just seen Kate Hennigan, and wanted to let you know how I handled the situation."

"Insolent little piece of baggage, isn't she? The first day of class and already in trouble. Late, unprepared, talking to her partner, and then rude, to boot."

Mr. Harris' eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, but he said calmly, "I've told her to apologize and to behave herself from now on. She'll be in after school to serve her detention with you. She's a good student and I'm sure things will be fine from now on." Before she had a chance to say anything, she found herself looking at Mr. Harris' broad back as he hurried down the hall in the direction of the teachers' lunch room. He never knew how his words affected Alice.

As she closed the door, Alice's reddened face crumpled and angry tears began to flow down her pocked cheeks. She blew noisily into a clean white handkerchief, a pink monogram, AMJ, embroidered in one corner. You get no support in this school at all. They're always taking sides with the students, and not just the office; the other teachers too. They're all going soft. I can imagine the time I'm going to have with that one now. She'll think she can get away with murder. Well, I'm certainly not going to put up with any nonsense from her. What was it my father always used to say? Spare the rod and spoil the child.

I Have Invented an Oven

I am so excited. Hydro Quebec has been warning about brown-outs during this extended winter freeze period and advising us to use as little power as possible between 4 and 8 p.m.

I wanted to bake fish with a veggie and rice in parchment in my oven, but since it is a recipe that calls for 400 degrees I decided to figure out a way to do it on the wood stove which has been running steadily since Wednesday.

After one false start I used my medium sized iron pot as the oven, popped in the packet, put on the lid and voila! a complete fish dinner in less than 20 minutes.

This may not seem revolutionary to anyone who is "mechanically ept" or to someone who learned over campfires how to bake without an oven, but for me, the least competent person I know when it comes to anything to do with the sciences, it was a source of great pride.

And it was a really important thing to have learned because now, if the power fails again, I will be able to do far more cooking on the wood stove. I could even bake bread or a cake

And this method is much cleaner than any other so I could avoid having to wash the most difficult of the prep items at a time when I have to ration water.

Yesterday I worked on a tea cozy all day, and organized my escape. I have been a prisoner of the cold since Tuesday night with a car that won't start blocking a road that cannot be plowed. Tomorrow I will call CAA to start the car and while I am running errands, charging up my battery and filling my gas tank to avoid any empty spaces for condensation, Leonard will find another tractor and plow my road. His has a slow leak and is frozen solid like my car.

One of the places I will be going is to the pharmacy to find a remedy for the ulcer-like symptoms I am experiencing as side effects of the Prednisone. The pain is almost constant and every two hours I put something into my stomach to sop up the acid. (And of course I am likely stimulating the production of hydrochloric acid by so doing.)

By the time I am off this drug I will be enormous and will have have a pickled and perforated digestive system. A glass of wine or two would allow me to forget my misery but unfortunately wine is one of the the things that causes pain.

Going Round in Circles

Do you know how a dog makes its home feel secure and familiar? It turns around and around in its blankets until it creates a nest.

That is what I have been doing in a more human way .

I have been ordering, changing, straightening, cleaning and reorganizing everything in my home from the shelves by the front door to the closets in every room, to the laundry area to the utility room to the freezer, to my desk, to the kitchen drawers.

Now of course I can't find anything, but at least I have re-created a nest.

It is funny how Kenya and I were relieved to be alone but both of us are finding our very settled orderly lives not enough. Kenya looks longingly out over the lake hoping a dog will appear. When none does she comes to the window and looks for company to play with her. When I go out to her she dances like a prancing pony with her stick begging me to throw it, but too excited to drop it so that I can.

I am still waiting for Denis to call me about oiling my car and fastening the muffler more securely. If he doesn't call me today it will be too late until Friday. We are supposed to receive a real dump of snow again tomorrow and I have finally heard from the Eye Institute ... an appointment on Thursday afternoon.

Tomorrow I think I will celebrate my snow day by playing with my skiis and either knitting or felting.

It feels good to be settled and peaceful ... but a little lonely as well. We will go out for a walk soon.

This is becoming really tiresome ...

The eye infection is back. Third time in a month. I spent the morning at the ER and the local pharmacy because the Eye Institute is closed till January 5. I am back on Cipro and on a 10 day course of Prednisone.

Mud Mama thinks there is a bit of fired clay in the eye starting the infection over and over again.

I wanted to drive to Ikea today to pick up a storage system for my wools etc., a few sets of file cards, and a bookcase for my cookbooks ... kind of a New Year's clean-up and creative springboard start to 2009. I also wanted to buy more dog food and stock up on meat and chicken at Costco.

Oh well ... have to postpone that trip till the swelling goes down sufficiently to make it.

Ugly again ...

I spent most of yesterday waiting to see and then seeing an Ontario clinic doctor who said 'beats me, but it's sure impressive' and then hooking me up with an off ... thamologist.

More when I can see better ... or at least enough to check the spelling of ophthamologist.

The First Kite Cozy

It hardly seems fair. I was almost finished this second cozy when my eye swelled up again. Maybe I am allergic to wool! Now that would be really unfair ... I have just started having fun with wool and want to continue to knit and felt and construct things with felted wool.

Is this a case of it gets worse before it gets better?

I sure hope so because my poor bulbous eye is worse today than it was yesterday before I started the antibiotics. I would hate to think I sat in an emergency room for 6 hours for nothing! And of course I wasn't sitting alone. Tanya lost a day at work because of this ... but I think she was not quite as dismayed by that as she might have been.

They are predicting all kinds of dire weather over the next few days so even if I wanted to get out I couldn't. That takes care of displaying my ugliness to the world, but I am a little concerned in case I need to return to the doctor. Oh well, no point in worrying about it. Worrying won't change the outcome.

Today I am going to unravel the first enormous sock I made so that I can re-knit it properly. It took me three tries on the second sock to get it right. I had never knit socks before and the pattern directions were confusing. When they are finished I will felt them down into slippers for Mud Mama. They are knit in a beautiful hand dyed variegated pink and violet wool. I love knitting with wool that is sensuously beautiful and feels good in my hands.

Mud Mama is bringing with her a bunch of wool from the Valley Fibres store near her home. I have placed a limit on the dollar amount but am leaving the choices up to Mud Mama who has a wonderful sense of colour and to the store owner who understands wool. It will be a wonderful Christmas present to myself that will keep me happily occupied after everyone leaves and I am once again a hermit with dog.

Yippee!

Just a short post today as I have places to go and things to see ...

Yesterday I received the good news from the biopsy and the scans ... no cancer ... I can't say I felt relieved or ecstatic, to be honest. I don't think I ever really thought there was a real possibility of it. Denial maybe. But no one in my family that I know of ever had had a cancer that was liable to be genetically caused. And more importantly, I didn't feel sick enough for it to be likely.

I didn't have enough cash to pay the $13.00 parking charge but the nice man at the machine changed the numbers and took my $10.

Then I ran some errands, bought some wool, stopped to say a belated Happy Birthday to Carlos, and came home to Kenya.

Today Tammy, Carlos and I are going to the first annual hand made bead exhibition, the Ottawa Guild Potters' Show, and the Third World Bazaar. Lots of beautiful colourful things to see ... no money to buy ... but a feast for the eyes anyway.

I will take my camera with me.