Lee Ann’s surgery schedule, that’s what this post is going to be. (Her head adventure is back on, by the way. Send good thoughts her way tomorrow morning) Earlier this week when I was having a hard day, and Lee Ann was scheduled for a little casual brain surgery, she joked that she hoped that I didn’t send any of my current luck her way. I explained that I was offering myself as a magnet. I was willing to suck up all of the possible bad things that could happen, thus greasing the wheels for Lee Ann’s straightforward head repair and recovery. Sort of the Karmic equivalent of distracting a bear who’s about to eat your husband at the campsite.
I would jump up and down over here in Toronto yelling “whoo-hoo! Over here! I’m the one ya want you big pansy!” and “Yo! Stupid-head bad luck! See me? Débarre-toi! Come and get me, grosse Corvette, petite quéquette!!” (She is in Quebec, the Karma may only speak french) and then any free floating bad outcomes looking for a person to stick it to would just rush over here and trash me, leaving Lee Ann completely unbeset during the vulnerable time that her head is…well. Open.
It’s been going pretty well. I had that bad day where I got soaked on my bike, then the basement flooded yesterday and I had to go out and literally sandbag the side of the house to try and stop the water coming in. I would have minded, you know? It really sucks to stand in mud up to your ankles while the rain beats down on you and you arrange tarps to defend your already soaking basement. I would have minded, but I know that I’m making the world a safer place for Lee Ann, so I’m fine. I was even fine when I realized that in a moment of panic, when I had thrown towels on the floor to soak up the water, I had thrown ALL of the towels on the floor. I think it really helped Lee Ann that I discovered this *after* I got myself covered in mud and drew a bath. I’m glad to be of service.
Last night when the rain stopped, the planet saw fit to dump a glass of red wine on my sock in progress….
(although it did mostly wash out. I’ll have to try harder.), and this morning I dropped a skein of silk into the sink full of soapy dishes, broke a bowl, discovered that over the next several days the temperature will be more than 35 degrees (99 F) and the only fan in the upstairs has developed a squeak. A mouse ate some of the pita bread last night, and there are aphids on my favourite rosebush. Also, I have a headache. (So far, so good. I got yer back Lee Ann)
I’m worried about tomorrow though.
I am finally, finally ready to start the lace bit at the bottom of icarus. This makes me happy, and happy is not what Lee Ann needs from me.
Lee Ann needs for me to discover a mistake way back at the beginning. Something huge. Something that would mean that I had to pull the whole thing out. Yeah. Pulling back laceweight mohair. That would really work. I bet Lee Ann would get better really, really fast. Pulling back laceweight mohair or….like, if the whole thing just spontaneously combusted! Oh yeah. If the shawl caught fire, maybe while we were having dinner, you know? Like the shawl catches fire from the candles on the dinner table, and then the shawl is burning (and it smells bad, because it’s silk and mohair) and I toss it down (because it’s on fire) but not before it scorches my new skirt that I like a lot, gets charred fibre bits in the salad and torches the basket of sock yarn nearby. Perfect.
Barring that, the forecast for tomorrow morning is sunny, so Rachel H. (who obviously loves Lee Ann as much as I do) has offered to come by in the morning and drive behind me while I ride my bike to Meg’s school, pelting me with really big, cold water balloons the whole way. She’s the best.
Good luck Lee Ann. I’m off to walk under a ladder for you.