Here is Puzzle, modeling her L.L. Greene sweater. This sweater was way too big for her on Tuesday, the day I made it for her. Note that it now fits very well!
It is 22 degrees out with winds gusting to 22 mph. However, 8-week-old Puzzle stayed warm in her hand-crocheted sweater!
She is indeed cute, isn’t she?
I was so involved in crocheting this sweater for Puzzle that I decided to stay up until Puzzle’s first nighttime wake-up, which is generally at around 10:30. Well, get this: Puzzle slept through the night. I stayed up all night waiting for her wake-up. I couldn’t be more delighted that she slept all night, and I’m also thrilled that I got this sweater done, at around 6:30 this morning.
The outer blend is made of “mystery pink” with sparkly flecks mixed with gray wool and the turquiose lining is soft orlon. The maroon decoration is orlon as well. This custom design is sure to keep Puzzle warm when she grows into it in a few weeks. I’m sure she will wear it with pride, or at least Mama will be proud!
I was a designer in a previous life. This is Puzzle’s new outfit.
Okay, okay, I didn’t create the pattern. I just crocheted it. Here’s where you can find the pattern:
Here is my original decorated dog carrier:
I decorated it for the purpose of keeping Puzzle warm while we travel.
Any questions, contact Puzzle, my agent.
Sometimes you can’t decide which to prop up, your head or your feet…ah, what a life!
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I’m participating in an open mic tonight. I’ll be reading my post, “The Death of QB,” (November 13, I believe) and the recent post, “Dream.” I wrote “Dream” specifically for the open mic, because I didn’t like the other piece I had planned. It’s nice to be able to tell myself, “I don’t like this one, so I guess I’ll write another.”
Puzzling, isn’t it?
I am sorry to bring grim news on such a festive occasion, but I feel it’s necessary to remind everyone that patient care is not necessarily rosy:
That story shocked me.
But this site brought me to tears, remembering QB, who accurately reminded me to take my PRN medication and nighttime meds:
It was uncanny the way QB “knew” not only the times that I was symptomatic, but when I was about to become symtomatic. His accuracy was 100% or nearly so. My psychiatrist had faith in him and so did I.
Aren’t dogs wonderful?
(Never mind how many hours of sleep I didn’t get last night.)
I brought Puzzle home early this afternoon. Here are some photos of her first half hour in my kitchen:
Have a nice evening. I’m not expecting to get much sleep tonight.
You dream that you are falling. Perhaps you have tripped, or you fail to see a pit before you. No matter, you are falling now; you can see the ground approaching, and as it does, faster and faster, time speeds up, for a nanosecond–yes, one nanosecond, space shrinks and your breath pounds: the distance between you and the ground halves; space gushes through your heart and halves again–your hands, your throat–then halves again, while time accelerates and your blood bursts–
Then, you wake up.
Suppose you didn’t wake up.
Suppose you stayed suspended in that fear.
Suppose you stayed suspended in that fear for a long, long time.
That is what it felt like when my illness was at its worst.
Here is a photo of Puzzle’s dad, a Poodle named Captain:
The funny thing about Captain was his role in the family. The puppies repeatedly tried to nurse from him. He was surprisingly tolerant of this.
The likes of Sudoku, the Rubik’s CUBE, Crosswords…
Here are some more photos of Puzzle and her family:
this is another one of the puppies:
I have more to tell you about, lots more, plus I need to scan a photo of Captain, the dad of the litter, that Elaine, the breeder, kindly gave me, but it’s getting late and I’m tired. I hope you enjoyed the puppy photos.