Monday Minutiae

I have nothing earth-shattering to say, so instead I will give you a round-up of several not-very-earth-shattering things.

  • Florence Nightengale I ain’t. — All weekend we have been nursing Stinkerbelle who is nursing a cold. She started complaining first thing Friday morning, so we kept her home from school, and by Friday evening she was pretty miserable. Also, when I say “nursing”, what I mean is “having her lie snuggled up under some blankets while watching endless episodes of mostly educational television.” Because she’s four and a half, there’s really not much else one can do. She’s too young for most meds, but we’ve found some homeopathic cough syrup that soothes her throat and cough, as well as using tylenol for fever and Vicks vap-o-rub for general stuffiness. And the added bonus this time around is that she’s now old enough to blow her own nose, mostly, but because she does the blowing and wiping almost constantly and quite vigorously, her nostrils and a bit of her upper lip and cheek and rubbed raw. Because of this, we’ve got some vaseline in play, too. So, I guess one could say “nursing” basically means we’re mostly getting her to sleep it off with the odd pharmaceutical to make it less miserable. And, for me, I am even less the nursing type as BDH has been having a “sleepover” in the attic with That Girl so that he can tend to her middle-of-the-night coughing and sneezing while I get a full night’s sleep. Yep, Mom FAIL.
  • Mellow but Still Pissy — On the cat front, we have purchased a diffuser of chemical cat hormone-y goodness to mellow out all our cats, but most specifically Cinnamon, who as I mentioned last week, has not been coping well with recent changes in our home. She has peed occasionally in her beds on the main floor since then, which has resulted in one bed being pitched out, the other two being relocated to the basement, and Cinnamon herself being exiled to the basement for longish periods of time. Today, she’s had a couple of hours on her honour, up without a bed to pee in, to see what will happen. Hopefully she is starting to get over herself, and everything will work out. But in case she does not, or something is actually physically wrong, or for other perspectives on the situation, we’ve got an appointment with our fantastic vet tomorrow. This will involve putting a cat in a carrier, transporting her to and from a vet office, and participating in a vet appointment. If we thought Cinnamon was pissed off NOW, just you wait until tomorrow at this time. Cat Mom FAIL (but hopefully soon to be followed by a Vet WIN).
  • Happy Knit Year — I’ve started amalgamating my probable projects for this year, to try to accomplish another knitting challenge — this year, it’s 13 projects in 2013. Last year I met all my challenges, which amounted to finishing something like 57 projects in all: 2 12-in-2012 challenges, a 12-hats-in-2012 challenge (MELISSA I HAVE HATS FOR YOU, SEND ME YOUR ADDRESS) and a few personal projects. So I was all set to get going this year. And then I realized I had left my knitting bag containing two in-progress projects on the pool deck at Stinkerbelle’s swimming lesson last week. OOPS. Not a promising way to start the knitting year. Fortunately, though, we live in a good place, and the bag was turned in almost immediately and with all the contents intact. Besides, who’s going to steal knitting? What are they going to do, fence a half-finished square? So this morning I was reunited with my knitting, and all’s well that ends well. Knitter FAIL, and City of Guelph WIN.

Yes, folks, my life really IS this full of excitement and spine-tingling adventure on a daily basis. Envy me.

2 thoughts on “Monday Minutiae

  1. Awwww. Give Stinkerbelle an extra hug for me. I had the cold from hell over Christmas. And New Year. And it’s what? The 15th of January (yes, I had to look to make sure), and I’ve still got some of the cough and I sound like I swallowed a frog, which everyone at the meeting I went to last night just *had* to point out to me.

    And, give yourself a hug, too. For all your self-diagnosed fail, you balance it all better than I ever could.


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