I come from a family of unhandy people. The plumber threatened to not come if my Dad tried any repairs before calling him in. That is my background. Not ashamed of it, but it does bias me toward trying to fix things.
Ever since I washed the alpaca, I've noticed that the washing machine leaks occasionally. Having heard all of the horror stories, I was sadly sure that I had fiber down the drainpipe. The odd part was that it didn't leak all of the time. Just occasionally. Until the last 2 loads of laundry. Then there were these little puddles on the floor. Almost unperceptable, in fact, the first puddle I excused -- almost -- because my feet are so sweaty from prednisone, that I honestly believed it was because I'd just taken my socks and shoes off! Then I stepped into it further and disabused myself of THAT notion! LOL So, last night in a fit of something, I moved the washer out, to pour chlorine bleach down the drainpipe, to dry to dissolve any blockage there. Prior to calling in a repairman at $50 or so an hour, you know. The cold water hose was leaking. Not badly, but enough to let us know the culprit. So, today Howard extended his walking (he is up to 12,000 steps so far today!) and picked up new hoses for the washing machine, then replaced them when he got home. This seems like such a success! Something we were able to do for ourselves, as opposed to having someone else do it for us! Perhaps you have to have been raised in a non-handy home to feel it is a minor miracle. But it does.
The amazing angora shawl that attacked me is about half today. I really don't think that hot flashes from prednisone and close to 90* temps outside were a kind combination for me yesterday. Today the intensity has lessened. I know it will be finished soon, but the urgency isn't quite as horrid. Right now I'm trying to finish a front panel on the Jimmy Beans baby sweater out of Brown Sheep Superwash. With that done, I'll knit up one more panel, sew in some ends and consider that sweater for the grandtad done. I'd like to have something finished in my knitting life right now. Too many started projects, not much closure. Although the three baby hats for the hospital are done, I won't mail them off until I have enough to make a decent package. And no, I don't have a clue as to what a decent package of them would be yet. I think I have 11 skeins of that yarn, at 3 hats per skein with a little left over which will stripe, I believe I'm in trouble! 35 hats total out of that yarn, with 3 done? Yeesh!
As you can probably tell by my writing, I'm still on prednisone, and it affects all sorts of things in my being. Including my writing. My mind rambles as much as my typing, aren't you glad you aren't trying to keep up with me face to face?
When I told my doc how hard it is for me to write when I'm like this he gave me a gentle look and said, "stay away from the typewriter." Yeah, right.
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2 comments:
Ah, yes, prednisone, the squirrel-on-crack effect. It should help get lots of hats done, though, at least, right? Best wishes; knit on!
Yes, indeed we were. I was married before I realized that our family putty knife was a wood chisel. ALP
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