Finally Out of Work Sock Yarn

I am finally out of work sock yarn. Now I can move on to new things. Here are shots of work socks #3 and #4. I only had a smidge of the grey ragg left and a tidbit of the heel/toe odds and ends stuff. There may be enough for a kids' pair. These ones are patchwork, green stripe and heel, blue toes.

Got some Cherry Tree Hill ready to go. This is fall foliage. I think I will use it to make YoYo Knits socks like the ones she posted on January 23 of this year. (You'll have to go into the archives. She so nicely says how she did them.) It's too busy to use in a fancy pattern.

In other news, my dryer has gone caput. It just turned seven, I got it when the Oldest One was born. Dad will come look at it tomorrow morning and see if he can fix it. If not I guess I will have to call the official repair people to deal with it. Totally dead, no light, no nothing. I'm hoping it's something simple. I do have a spare element, but I think it's more than that. I can't go too long without a dryer! I took a load up to Ma's yesterday to dry, and this morning I had a small wash that I hung on a wire laundry rack in the basement to dry.

Anyone who popped by the blog around Christmas probably noticed that the Oldest One had a bandaid on his forehead. I thought he had a pimple, so I left it alone. It turned red and started to get bigger. Over Christmas break it bled really badly twice. I called the doctor, thought maybe it was a mole starting. I couldn't get him in until January 16. The doctor called it proud flesh. He said he either got hit or nicked it, and it overhealed. (I think it was from a whack he took with a seat belt buckle thrown by the Littlest One. It didn't leave a mark, but that's about where he got hit with it.) He would call me to bring him to outpatients at the hospital to have silver nitrate put on it to shrink it. Of course, he didn't call, and it kept growing. Thursday of last week the Littlest One hit it when they were playing, and the big bleed was on. I took him up to the hospital, and our doctor happened to be on call. He put the silver nitrate on it and said to call on Monday to set up a time for treatment #2. The next morning his hair was sticking to it, and I noticed it was weeping and getting quite ugly. It bled a bit a couple of times, and the doctor had said if it did that to put a clean cloth on it and apply pressure. Anyways, I really didn't think it should be doing what it was doing, so Monday morning I called the office and told the receptionist. I had to take him back to the hospital in the evening, and sure enough, it wasn't supposed to look like this. He said it should have just shrunk by one third or one half. He wouldn't do anything else to it til the surgeon that comes to town looked at it the next day.

So the next day I have to go to the school and get him, take him back to the hospital to see this other doctor. He takes one look, calls it a big long complicated name, says he's never seen one on the forehead before, and it won't heal on its own, bleeds like crazy if it's hit, has to be removed. He gave the Oldest One two choices -- he could freeze it and take it off that day, or he could wait a month and be knocked out in the hospital in the next town over and have it removed.

The Oldest One does not like needles, and he's a big boy, so we have not had good experiences getting blood samples, booster shots, flu shots, etc. He had found a penny on the floor, so heads he did it today, tails he waited. I'm like, "Do it today and get it over with." It was totally yucky, I wanted it gone, plus it had grown a lot in the past week. So after several coin flips he ended up, "You may as well do it today." Not a peep, not a cry, nothing. I was soooooo impressed. He did ask lots of questions during the procedure, though. Nosy! Of course, I had to go in with him, but I made sure I look away once the cutting began. I don't like blood and can't stand stuff like that, and since it was on the forehead it bled like crazy. Five stitches later we were outta there. He goes Tuesday to get them out. (The shiny stuff is polysporin.) He had school skating yesterday, but we didn't stay. The helmet came across the stitches, so I didn't want to irritate them, and he said it hurt. They are not allowed to skate without a helmet.

This doesn't really have anything to do with anything, but when I was younger all the doctors were old. Or I should say older. They were near retirement or had kids a bit older than me. There are some in town now around my age with kids a bit younger than mine. This surgeon was about my age. I met another one of the new doctors before Christmas, and he's a young 'un, looked more like a surfer dude than a doctor. (Heard afterwards that he does surf!) He's very nice, and I've heard good things about him. Anyways, I just can't picture some day when I'm 60 getting a pap test from some young whipper snapper about 30, but I know it's gonna happen. My doctor is in his early 50s, and I can't picture him working til he's 77ish, which is when I'd be 60. Bad enough that he teaches a lot of interns, and when the day comes I go in for the yearly thing and the intern is the one supposed to do it? Ain't gonna happen. If my doctor ain't there that day, it will be rescheduled.

This is one of the pictures of the seal that I took the other day. You can see he was quite far away, Tim's camera has a great zoom, but he was a little closer when he took his pictures. He was back yesterday, but not until after lunch. I took the kids down to see him. I looked for him today, but I didn't see him.

Lastly, I will leave you with a strange bit I overheard at work today. (We take passport pictures.)

Boss Man, "Are you getting your picture taken, too?"

Lady, "No, I don't have my teeth in today."

She did end up getting her picture taken because the passport people will reject pictures if the person has his/her mouth open even the slightest crack, so it doesn't matter if they have teeth or not. They don't class an open mouth as a "neutral expression". Trust me, we've had them rejected for that reason.

Happy knitting!