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Wednesday, July 1st, 2015 08:44 am
Two weeks ago at this very time (eight-thirty in the morning) I was having the time of my life in the operating room. Swirly colors, feeling no pain, an amusing anesthesiologist, and somehow not-creepy carpentry noises I knew were being directed to my very own bones--I tell you, conscious sedation with the happy cocktail is the way to go if you're going to get your bones milled.

Today I'm walking, mostly without a cane as long as I'm in the house, doing small exercises as often as I think of it (goal is two or three of them an hour), medicating but not heavily. A month or less and I'll return to driving. My biggest complaint is I get so tired so quickly and I'm taking several small naps a day, and not sleeping all that well at night.

I haven't gotten back to work writing yet but I'm doing the laundry and some other housework. Also working on the World's Ugliest Afghan. Seriously, I decided to make it when I saw that somehow I had become the owner of a large box of mismatched, odd colored, odd textured tiny balls of yarn. It will be ugly but also, I think cuddly. I am not the most skilled of crocheters, and the differences in texture mean differences in gauge as well, so the granny squares are coming out different sizes. I will compensate somehoiw when I attach them to each other. I've thought of some dodges. I am not worried. This is not meant to be a blue-ribbon afghan. I asked Emma for additional yarn scraps when I saw that I was coming to the end of the pile before getting to the end of the afghan and she sent me a bag of mainly tasteful neutrals and one skein of absolutely hot pink. I sent her the message "one of these colors is not like the others..." I have decided to arrange the squares with a band of four nine-patches down the middle, flanked by two bands of six four-patches, and bordered sufficiently deeply to make it comfy. And I am using the hot pink in just four squares, to be at the middle of the nine-patches. It will be marvellous.

It's Wednesday, so I should mention what I've been reading. I took an unpromising fantasy novel out of the library before surgery and returned it on Monday.I actually kept muttering Dorothy Heydt's Eight Deadly Words ("I don't care what happens to these people") and I realised I didn't have to finish it. Now I am reading Interface Masque by Shariann Lewitt and my problem is I don't believe in the setup enough to suspend disbelief, if you know what I mean. One problem I can identify with it is that it feels too homogenous and also too culture-essntialist. I took out two other books, and I'll tell you about them later.

II saw this dog at the county shelter website, and I sent an overture to the foster mom. I have to fill out an application for the shelter, but that entails carrying my computer upstairs to the printer, which is not that big a deal normally but I need both hands to go up and down stairs still, so later I'll have K take it there for me. The only thing wrong with the dog is I promised everybody I'd get an adult dog so we wouldn't have to live through puppyhood again...otherwise he's exactly the kind of dog I want. Including the ears, which I don't know if you call them tulip or button? anyway, half-upright. I don't really care too much about appearances though: it's the personality I want. It's just a bonus if the dog looks a bit like Truffle.