Today I was scanned to see if there were any thyroid cells that may have escaped during surgery lurking somewhere else in my body, waiting to cause issues. There were none. I am, pretty much, cured. But it was while I was laying in the scanner, unable to move for 30 minutes, a big black X just an inch from my face, that I finally realized that there was something wrong with me. I finally got it. I'd had cancer. The stuff that kills people. And a few minutes later I was assured that it was really, really gone. And you know what I feel like doing?

(Japan)

(Peru)

(NYC)

(London)

(Korea)

(Paris)

(China)

(Israel)

Friday I got my dose of radioactive iodine. This is to kill off any remaining thyroid cells so that the nasty ones can't come back. It wasn't a big deal - you drink this teaspoon of stuff out of a straw and wash it down and they scan you and if you are within the acceptable limits you go home. The whole thing takes about 15 minutes. But then you have to stay home and avoid contact with anyone for 48 hours, and no kids or pregnant women for a week. So I've been in my bedroom for two days, hearing "meow" and seeing little furry paws reaching under the door. You just can't explain radioactivity to a creature who's first language isn't English and who has a brain the size of a walnut. Poor kitties. And with Laurie and Deborah losing their friends this week, I want to cuddle them even more. They're getting over it, though. They used to run to the door whenever I came out for more water or something, but they've accepted that I'm just going back in, so now they just kind of traipse. But tomorrow I can pet them again and I'll be very happy.

So, stuck in my room with three knitting projects, a laptop, wireless internet, an ipod, a plethora of downloaded Japanese programs, Netflix "Watch Now", and a couple hundred books, I AM BORED OUT OF MY SKULL. I have terrible insomnia, so my bedroom is for sleeping only. I don't hang out in here - ever. I come in, lie down, sleep, get up, leave. That's the purpose of this room. Spending time in here is really dull, even with all the amusements listed above. I don't know how pregnant women on bedrest do it. I'd go mad. I'm so sick of sleeping and "taking it easy" for the last few weeks. I just want to be normal again. I want to climb stairs without being out of breath. I want to sound like me. I want to sing. I want my voice back! OK, enough whining.

So, with very little to distract me, I've begun Clue 2 of the Mystery Stole. And you know what? I'm not loving it. The pattern will be beautiful. The yarn and bead choices are still good. It's not too difficult. I think it's the pressure and the level of difficulty that doesn't allow for doing anything else at the same time. Oh, I'm reading subtitles - don't think I've given that up - which is why I'm only starting clue 2. It's kind of like work. Like xmas knitting. Having deadlines sucks the fun out of a hobby - makes it more of the sport that Stephanie calls it. I was not, nor ever will be, a jock. So, I don't anticipate finishing this along with everyone else. I can't do more than 10 rows before I'm just tired of it. Please don't think I'm dissing on Melanie in any way - I'm not. I'm just saying that mentally I am way too restless with everything else going on to concentrate on this particular project right now.

So what were the other two project I brought into my prison cell fortress of solitude bedroom? I'm still working on the Neapolitan Jaywalkers - the first one. I finally finished the gusset decreases on Thursday and am on the foot. And yes, Kara, I tried it on. It fits!

The other is a scarf based on the Kureyon scarf. I'd tell you what yarn, but then you'd buy all that Sandy has and I won't be able to finish it. I'll tell you after I buy what I need. But here's a picture:

I told you that I won the contest at LotusKnits, and my sock yarn arrived this week. She didn't just grab a couple skeins out of the Etsy shop - she dyed it for me! It's sooo gorgeous. The colors are rich and the yarn is soft. This is definitely being saved until a "round two - after I've mastered the sock pattern" pair of socks. And every time I think of the name, I think of Marty Casey on Rock Star INXS, which is not a bad association at all.

Wish You Were Here:

Before it's another weekend, I have to tell you what I did over the last one. I spun! A while back I got a drop-spindle lesson, and I am truly ashamed to admit it, but I hadn't touched it since. And then there is Anna (tragically blogless), who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met and who I wouldn't even know if we weren't both die-hard Yarn Harlot fans who both got to her signing ridiculously early and sat on the floor together and talked and knit and ... a year later we're still friends. And through her I've met Robin and Shannon and Barb and Barb and Maryann and Dale and Joyce and...and Thank You, Steph!

Anna is not only a knitter, but a spinner and a weaver as well. And she wants an army of fiber minions to take over the world. She'll suck you in. Oh, yeah. First it's a "Hey, do you want to come to the Weavers Guild sale with us?" and suddenly you're buying roving - and you haven't touched a spindle in a year. Then it's a "Hey, I haven't seen you. Come to Myers House and hang out with me while I weave" and then you've somehow inherited your mother's old Lee Wards table loom, circa 1978 (which, thankfully, is still in the box. But it now lives at my place.) Hmmm. I see a pattern. And don't even get me started on how she's pushing angora bunnies. No, I resisted that one.

And I am not the only one who thinks Anna is an enabler, either. Fran agrees with me. She posted a lovely telling of the day on her blog, so I'm going to let you read it. Go on. The pictures (that other people there took as well) are much better than mine. And it's a new blog by a fantastic and gracious spinner, so you may want to go ahead and add it to your Google Reader or Bloglines right now.

So, back to the fact that I was spinning. First I got my spindle out, and after a little assistance getting started again, I continued to practice with the same cream-colored stuff that came with it. After I got the hang of it again, I switched to the blue-colored stuff that came with it. It's by no means perfect, but it was a much less awkward process than the first time. Here's a look:

Oooohhh, spindle p0rn. Want a closer look?

It's not like the lace-weight singles that Lee Ann spun that got me buying the spindle in the first place, but it's a start. The fiber was the stuff that came in the box, after all. I'll try other stuff. And practice. More than once year.

But was Anna happy? Oh, noooo. She thinks I need a wheel, and the surefire way to get me to get a wheel is for her to put hers in front of me and let me try it out. Mwah hah hah hah. But, good triumphed over evil! I was less than enamored with the whole wheel thing. You wanna talk about awkward? Picture an 8th grade graduation dance, all the girls in high heels for the first time, the boys are staring at them, and the janitor just waxed the floor. It was that kind of awkward. Maybe I'll try again someday, but I much preferred the spindle. I could barely treadle. Couldn't keep the wheel going in one direction. Broke the roving countless times. Even clogged the wooly winder. But Anna patiently got me going again every time. She's such a sweetheart, and her passion for fiber arts is so contagious. But I'm not buying a wheel. No. I said no. No means no. Sigh. Give me a year, OK?

Love you guys! Thanks for a great Sunday!

You know what made me cry lately? Guess. Being diagnosed with cancer would be the obvious choice, but no. Not a tear. My car that I wanted to last until August dying in June? Nope. Dry. Getting all patriotic on the 4th, watching 1776, usually a tear-jerker for me? Uh uh. Sahara. Deluged with medical paperwork that I don't understand and wish I didn't have to pay? Nix to that one too. You know what has me crying today, openly and unabashedly, at my desk, in full view of coworkers? Laurie lost Roy. And I am a mess. I have fallen apart. The tears will not stop. There was a moment during the Tiny/Big C thing that I realized there was a chance that my cats who are only 9 might actually outlive me. And I was relieved. I thought, just for those seconds of irrationality (cause I'm really not sick, yo) that I would be spared having to wake up to a cold kitty, or hold one as it went to sleep forever. Thinking of that future day is absolutely guaranteed to bring on the waterworks. And they are running today.

Hallelujah! I hear ya, sister! Amen!

(Yet another cool thing I found through Ravelry)

Though my parents are convinced that I have my thumb on the pulse of all that is pop culture, I don't. How could a spinster with two cats not have heard about this lolcat thing? I found out on Ravelry, and some of the pics there are pretty hilarious. Maggie and Mitsy, in their desire for a continual internet presence, (I swear it's not me - I'm NOT a crazy cat lady!) have selected these two favorite photos for a little "updating."

While paging through all of the Mystery Stole 3 progress pictures on Ravelry, I've noticed something. Look here, and here, and here, and here. See the stitch definition? Now look here:

Does mine look a little loose? I'm just wondering. I mean, I didn't even see the the pattern in the edging in mine until I'd seen theirs. I was seeing nearly-averted tragedies like this one:

Not one, not two, but THREE dropped stitches. And I recovered. I frogged back a few rows, caught all the stitches back for one row, figured out which row it was, and moved on. Which is one reason why I'm pressing on with what I've got. Another is the beads. This thing will have to be blocked, and usually I block pretty hard, but with the beads I'll be more gentle. If a thread snaps I will cry. Well, I won't, but I'll want to and the feeling will stick with me for a couple days and I'll get morose and angsty and play Nick Drake over and over and sit in the dark drinking wine out of the bottle and watching the third episode of Nobuta wo Produce again and again. Actually, that sounds like a fun way to spend a weekend, but NO! There will have been a wasted summer of shawling involved and that would definitely not be fun.

Another is that I keep remembering Melanie's instructions: You're not looking for an opaque fabric in the stockinette areas - we're knitting lightweight shawls here, not survival gear for the Arctic. So I'm thinking that I'm on the right track. But I'm wavering. Clue 2 is out today, and this is the time to decide to frog or to continue. I vote continue. What do you think? You all were dead right with the bead choice, so I'll trust your opinion.

Hiroshi Abe. Knitting. OMG. Granted, it's a bad screen pic from a low-quality video capture of a series that aired in 2001 but who cares. It's Hiroshi Abe! Knitting! Sigh.

OK, if you're not feeling it with me, here's a better picture. And ladies, this Japanese idol is 6'2" tall. Oh, yeah, baby. Taller than me, older than me, rich, handsome as all heck - the facts of his marital status and geographic location aside - he's pretty dreamy. And you thought I only loved the pretty boys.

And other things that fall under the "got me all excited today" category: I won a contest! LotusKnitter chose me as one of the winners of her contest, and the prize is something that you all know is near and dear to my heart - hand-dyed sock yarn! Yippee!

I had planned to go back to work a little sooner this time, but that just wasn't going to happen. Just going downstairs to collect my new teeny tiny crochet hook from the doorstep wore me out. So I stayed on the couch and knit stripes.