The Winter of Maggie's Discontent

Today was a bad day.


It started last night, when I noticed that in the last 24 hours, Maggie had licked a hole the size of a quarter through the fur in her right front leg. This morning I called the vet, who later injected her with antibiotics and gave her this stylish lampshade to wear for the next week.

In addition, she has surmised that this obsessive over-grooming is stress-related, most likely due to the fact that Maggie has been getting the snot kicked out of her by one over-rowdy The Pickle. As a result, he has been confined to a bedroom without the company of his favorite punching bag.


So for those of you who were wondering, this is what my stress-related obsessions look like. Patrick is still gone, and it is no picnic wrangling one cat into a bedroom against his will and wrangling another cat into a "buster collar" that needs to be tied in a knot to close. Tough to do with one hand. Cranky Lindsay ensues. Nancy Pearl had to come and show you the lovely pile of leaves I've been working on. She says, "Shhh." Thank you, Ms. Pearl, I find that very soothing.


I don't know if you noticed, but the knot I tied in Maggie's collar ends in a bow, which gravity and wiggly feline have maneuvered to the front. She looks like a prairie settler! There's my silver lining...

Blurg.

I was going to be so productive when I got home.

I was going to unpick that first tragic pass of quilting on the February quilt, then power through the whole top tonight. I may have even gotten to the binding.

I was going to put the 4 corners on E-11.

What I ended up doing wasn't so much nothing as it was blank. Five hours passed in a dull electric hum, and now it's time for bed.

I'll do better tomorrow.

Home Circle

I was able to do this block very scrappy - freeing up some real estate in my scrap bin is becoming an imperative. For some reason, I want to call it Home Skillet, not Home Circle.

In other news, it has been a relatively crap week. Patrick left Wednesday, so the latter half plummeted from crappy to suck-tastic. I know that deploying military personnel have no choice in where they're going or when - my brain knows that. But when I lose power in a windstorm and have to live under the perpetually gray skies of Western Washington in February, it can be a little difficult to stomach an itinerary that includes St. Croix.

I was talking with a friend of mine who is also an ex-active duty, now military dependent. We talked about the aggravation and anger that can come with military spousedom, and how the hardest part about it is not misdirecting it. Patrick and I chose this life, and unlike most military dependents I had a very clear idea of what I was getting into. Still, when plans get canceled and hopes are disappointed, it's really important to remember not to blame the guy who's got to go live out of his suitcase for a week (yes, even if that takes him to St. Croix, you still can't blame him). Because the reality of it is that Patrick would rather be here under the continuous dark cloud that is winter in the great Northwest with me than in cruddy old St. Croix without me.

So that's my venting for the week. Honestly, if you just come for the fabric-y goodness, I stuck it at the top, reading this far is optional.