Fallen leaves scattered over the pavement is a rare sight in Victoria. Often the winters are so mild that the deciduous leaves are still on the trees in February, and once dropped, are quickly replaced by buds. Most of the leafy trees in the area are bare, because we have had quite a lot of fierce rain and wind, roughly knocking and shaking them off the tree, as if the elements are playing some sort of childish game.
Before my needle change today, we went to school to pick up my yearbook. I’m only a 1/3 of a year late, but no matter. I was very excited to see our grad and baby pictures, read the comments and laugh over the inside jokes and nicknames and memories. I have read many years of grad comments, but without really knowing the people all that well. It means more when you’ve known the people for 7 years. A big change. I said hello to the lovely lovely office staff, and our headmaster briefly. The office is a very busy center, situated between the library, main corridor and the freedom of the outdoors. It is strange that my friends baby brothers and sisters are now seniors, sweating through their full IB work, and are taller than me, or their siblings! I miss them all very much. 🙁
Had my port needle changed, which was jolly good fun *rolls eyes*. Unfortunately, it has to be done every week which is irritating. I scar and bruise very easily, because I am so ‘fair skinned’ and because of the Lyme. There are nice little lumps of scar tissue over the port, which are quite uncomfortable when a fresh needle is poked through them. Doing IV twice a day doesn’t exactly help to alleviate the discomfort. I wouldn’t mind doing it quite as much if it didn’t taste bad and was very caustic going in. But then, if it wasn’t doing much good, there would be no point of doing it. NO one likes doing medication. Obviously. I like the kind of infection that can be cleared up with a few days to a weeks worth of antibiotics. Alas. I am very tired now.
I have been continuing to spin with the drop spindle which is so much fun. I have just finished my first few meters 2 ply wool in a nice heather gray color, which is about as thick as a water-sodden shishkebab stick.
It was very hard work, and I had to take several break while spinning, but listening to the epic Beowulf definitely spurred me on. Its one of my personal favorite, and every time I read it or listen to it, I can scarcely believe that is was written so long ago, and isn’t just a modern poem/short-story. I especially enjoy the epic battle with Grendel, and how he’s all…”well, Grendel doesn’t use weapons, so neither will I! I am just that tough! I have the strength of 30 men in my grip. Rawr!”. Total epic. All the power to you, Mr B-Wulf.
I think that Grendel is a good, solid name for a fat cat, don’t you?