Actual Content, Some of It Knitting Related.

Al Gore Lives on My Street.

Al Gore on SNL.

Just because it made me happy in a bittersweet way.

I spent Mother's Day at my parents' house. I told the kids we'd put Mother's Day on hold for a while, I'll pick a random week and demand to be taken to dinner or something. My dad's condition is unchanged, he's fairly stable and mostly lucid, until he says something off the wall. I'm fairly convinced he's had a mild stroke. He sounds exactly like my husband when the brain mets started to act up - very smart, articulate people still sound "normal" until they say something wacky, then it's clear they really aren't processing everything. My father can tell you the day of the week and repeat things he read in the newspaper - definitely two signs of "lucid and oriented." OTOH, he thinks he's on tube feeding because the water is contaminated. That's the first I heard of that one. Until he said that I thought he was totally with us. Then I had the sad shock of recognition - I have seen this movie. I sat through it in 2003.

My mother is holding up okay. She's frayed around the edges but she's dealing with the day to day, and that's all anyone can do in that situation.

And I've said it before, but I don't know how non-knitters survive things like this. I brought the Seychelles Shawl. I was able to survive the endless, circular discussion of nothing with the elderly and confused just fine. I was calm, not impatient or sad, I just knitted my pretty bright salmon pink shawl and listened and responded. I think of this as hours of quality knitting time.

And tomorrow is Monday, and it's back to the Job. I don't hate my job, I just have a nagging feeling, nagging louder all the time, that it's not where I am supposed to be or what I'm supposed to be doing. But I show up, because it's a paycheck and sometimes it really is obvious that they need me there, doing what I'm doing. They are appreciative. They swear they'd kill me if I quit, I guess that's love. It may not be what I need, but it's not totally pointless, so it could be far, far worse. I will re-dedicate myself to the task at hand tomorrow.

Friday was a "team building" day. Boy, did we not build a team. We did identify the "incapable of being team players" in our department. Ever see 30-ish women revert to bratty junior high behavior in public? It's so not pretty. After lunch we were getting close to Lord of the Flies Land. What dire thing were they asked to do? Major exercises in personal growth and development? Naaah. Just go along with the group in a theme park, going on the rides and activities that appealed to the majority. Meltdown! Pouting! Brat Behavior! "We'll just go off on our own!" It was a useful exercise because I have figured out which of the two is the one that really is prepared to throw anybody under the bus, and is gunning for someone way above her in the food chain. She's one mean little bitch. She will not succeed in her mission but it will be amusing to be the fly on the wall for this one. The other is a bit of a pain, but amusing and mostly harmless. It didn't really show me anything NEW, but confirmed the things I'd sensed in the office.

Remember the skein of that really dark cotton I bought from Carla, and it was so dark I had trouble seeing it and had to find the right pattern for it?

I found it in Merino Knits. Let's pause to absorb the incongruity that a book devoted to wool has a pattern that would work with this cotton. There are two rectangular shawl patterns in this book that would work perfectly with that dark cotton - I could see it to make it, and the result would be just right. I love this book in general, but I particularly love the shawls - they are like the Seychelles Shawl in progress - not "lace" but lacey and light and easy. The photographs in this book are to die for, and I have mentally bookmarked patterns for charity knitting and the like. It's a keeper.