tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-235386642024-03-13T09:28:13.057-05:00PhotoLooney<b>My life as a photographer, and then sometimes as an antiques dealer, collector, knitter and foodie - I'm never bored. </b>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.comBlogger233125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-24536944832835584312014-06-26T15:20:00.001-05:002014-06-26T15:20:16.408-05:00I haven't been here for ages... It's been so long since I've been here. I've not written, and it feels like I've lost my writing mojo. So now I'm trying to get back here, to that place where writing seemed to sooth my soul. I miss writing.<br />
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My brain is all over the place. <br /><br />Trying to stay busy today, trying to settle my heart, so started the morning weed whacking (Lordy, it feels good to destroy weeds), at least until I ran out of trimmer string. Who would have guessed that killing plants would be comforting? Went out for a drive in the country with Rocky, stopped at a few sales, found nothing but still it was good to get out for a backroads country ride. Ignoring the phone - don't feel like talking today. I talk all day long at work because that's what I'm supposed to do, so my days off are mine to talk-or-not-talk. Now getting ready to make freezer jam with the local strawberries I picked up yesterday. <br /><br />Mostly I'm trying to not think of six years ago today. On June 26, 2008, my life changed forever. It began a year of fear and pain, a year of trying to deal with life spinning beyond my control, a year of stress through horribleness. On June 26, I had a stroke while living and running my antiques business in Maine. Then I learned that God really doesn't give you more than you can handle (although I certainly questioned that at the time) - three months later we discovered that Tom had Stage IV esophageal cancer. I left Maine to return home to Michigan to help him through a year of treatments at the University of Michigan. Tom died in October 2009, taking a piece of my heart with him forever.<br /><br />So today I am trying hard not to think about that time, yet still, I am grateful. I am grateful that I am alive after having a stroke. I am grateful that I was able to spend that last summer in Maine, doing what I love - antiques - in a place that I love. I am grateful that God sent me a very specific message to return home to take care of Tom, although at the time of my stroke, neither of us realized that the upcoming year would lead us down that cancer hell-road. I am grateful that I had one last year with Tom, and we made the best of it. I have such good memories. <br /><br />I am trying hard not to think of the future we had planned and looked forward to. Life changes, and I've learned to be flexible enough to handle those changes. I don't have to like them; I only have to live with them. Time allows for healing if you want to heal, and I'm getting there. A few years ago I decided to heal. Sure glad there's no time limit...<br />
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It's an ongoing process, that healing thing. My life is nothing like it was six years ago, and I'm ok with that. It's evolving, and I trying to look forward to the next unknown, whatever it is. Change is ok.<br />beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-37043708380666492152012-05-10T11:44:00.006-05:002012-05-10T11:44:55.079-05:00First Annual KazooYarnies Fiber Retreat - Fabulous!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">We didn't really know what to expect at our first annual KazooYarnies Fiber Retreat. After all, we'd never done anything like this before. But a dozen of us got together for a fun weekend at the Miracle Camp in Lawton, Michigan, on beautiful Bankson Lake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Friday night started with a potluck supper, with everyone bringing something to share. It was an evening of relaxation and getting to know each other, and then we settled in to watch a presentation on Ravelry on the big screen set up by the Miracle Camp just for us. We used that screen throughout the weekend to watch movies too, and to share some other fiber info from the Internet. We had our own private meeting room for the entire weekend, just steps away from our private rooms. The staff had brought in comfy rockers for us, and we just kicked back and gabbed the night away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Saturday brought Jill June, of Studio June Yarn - and she came ready for us, filling five 8 foot tables with her wonderfully hand-dyed yarn. This is Jill below setting up her bounty for us - it took her a full hour to get it all out. (And we did our best to put a serious dent in her inventory...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Jill brought knitted samples so we could see how her yarn worked up - here's Carolyn modeling one of Jill's shawls. </span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Carolyn and her sister Mary (in blue) didn't waste any time finding goodies - and this was just their first go-around! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After
a quick lunch, we enjoyed an afternoon with instructor Kelly Jensen, of
Your Local Yarn Shop in Battle Creek. She brought along a sample shawl
showing her mosaic knitting technique, and then taught us all how to do
it. Her course was specifically designed for beginning knitters (for
which I will be forever thankful, since I'd never learned how to read a
chart before). It was an excellent experience, and we learned that this
technique can be used both for flat knitting and in the round too.</span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Instructor Kelly Jensen, showing us her just finished shawl with a Mosaic border.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is an example of Mosaic Knitting, done in two directions.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Kelly's sample shawl showing a mosaic border.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then we were off to zipline! A few brave souls gave it a try, and others came to give moral support. We had a blast, once we got past that first step...</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was a long walk up those stairs, and then three flights up to the top of the tower.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's Janet getting hooked up...</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">and here's Janet flying!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">This is me zipping and smiling - and screaming all the way down!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Gloria did it twice - this was her second trip, where she was free-styling in lay-out position!</span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Saturday evening we relaxed with our Silent Auction. Nearly everything started at $1, and several of them sold for $5 or less - lucky bidders ended up with some wonderful bargains. These were all items donated by KazooYarnies this past year.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Big Book of Kids' Knits - $3</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">10 balls of Ceres yarn for $17</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hip Knits - $4</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">two skeins of Paton's Mohair plus the cute basket - just $1 !!</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Kids' Knitted Sweaters - another $1 bargain!</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">10 skeins of SoySilk - just $10</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">4 skeins Nashua wool-alpaca mix - $9</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sunday was sunny with a cool wind, and we went on the hunt with Janet "WeedWalkWoman" Clawson, who showed us a wide variety of edible wild foods - young poke berry shoots, wild strawberries, mint, and lots more. Foraging is fun!</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gg2O1Ka_eZ4/T6XHreJ2poI/AAAAAAAAD6o/brWeDuZu7hs/s1600/IMG_9615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gg2O1Ka_eZ4/T6XHreJ2poI/AAAAAAAAD6o/brWeDuZu7hs/s320/IMG_9615.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Gloria showing Val something wild and yummy....</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Such a pretty place, the Miracle Camp. Here we were finding wild goodies just a few steps away from the martin house, right between the Lodge and Bankson Lake.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yup, we were sniffiing Autum Olive bushes - they smell so sweet in the Spring. But the real treat is in the fall, as their berries are delicious!</span></span> >>><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Janet fearlessly eating something... </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't remember what we found at the base of this tree, but it was edible. Everyone had borrowed a book from Janet's vast collection on foraging and edibles, and we were having such fun finding things we never knew existed!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Janet showing me another edible - maybe mint?? </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We had our own private dining room, with direct access to the lake. Chef Matt came in to check on us regularly - his food was wonderful! We had a full salad bar at lunch and dinner (even yogurt was available), plus for breakfast we had french toast, sausage and bacon, oatmeal, donuts, fresh fruit and more. Just some of the offerings at lunch and dinner - grilled cheese sandwiches, lasagna, veggies, many desserts, plus all the juice, milk, coffee, tea, and hot chocolate you wanted. Nobody went hungry!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The best part of our retreat was that no one had to participate in anything if they didn't want to. Some went for a walk outside, some went for some quiet knitting or tv watching in the lobby, some took an afternoon nap. It was a successful weekend - everyone did what they wanted to, and we all had fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On Sunday after the retreat, I took a leisurely drive through the country on the way home, and found these beautiful wild trillium - what a great way to end the weekend. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And now - already making plans for next year's retreat!</span></span>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-54462039584653781092010-10-18T19:29:00.000-05:002010-10-18T19:29:53.902-05:00Yellow Kid - One Tough CatIt all started innocently enough. My yellow and white tabby, Yellow Kid, had been battling a stubborn infection in his paw for months. We'd get it cleaned up, and it would return, time after time. Finally, our new vet cleaned it out completely, and all was well.<br />
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Or so I thought. His paw was looking pink and healthy, with just the smallest scab. He was walking normally,, no longer limping. Everything was going well. And then - of course, on a Saturday when vets generally aren't available - he started walking stiffly. The cat with the voracious appetite wasn't eating, although he was sniffing his food as if interested. He'd then just walk away - something I'd never seen him do before. Yellow Kid just never passes up food.<br />
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The stiff walking became more pronounced that evening, and by Sunday morning he was walking with his back arched, just a step at a time, looking seriously ill. I was sure he had some kind of blood infection from the paw problem. But soon Yellow Kid was becoming sicker by the minute, and I knew that waiting until Monday morning was a bad idea.<br />
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So off we went to the Veterinary Emergency Hospital. That's the only choice one has around here on weekends. By the time we got there, Yellow Kid was unable to walk, which was a major change from 30 minutes prior. His body was stiff, and he wasn't able to move. He couldn't sit, stand, walk or do anything other than lay flat on his side. He couldn't move his head. His tail was stretched out ramrod straight, his legs were extended and not bending at all, and his ears stood erect without moving. That's when I learned from the ER vet that Yellow Kid had tetanus.<br />
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The vet had never seen a cat with tetanus. Neither had the other ER vet working the clinic that day. Turns out that cats have a natural immunity to tetanus, so a cat with tetanus is a true rarity. It also turns out that there is no blood test for tetanus in cats; the only way it can be diagnosed is visually. Unfortunately, Yellow Kid had all the signs - stiff ears and tail, locked jaw (which sadly explained why he had sniffed his food and walked away), body stretched out and unable to move. If you picked him up, his muscles were so taut that he was literally as stiff as a board.<br />
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It was heart-wrenching to see him that way. In fact, so painful for me that I couldn't take any photos of him. I didn't know how much longer he'd be on this earth, and I didn't want a photo of him like that as my last memory. My camera stayed in the car.<br />
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Talking with the ER vet, she said that although he was in rough shape and not far from death, that she believed that with treatment he had a chance of making it. So they immediately pumped him full of IV antibiotics and muscle relaxants, and fed him intravenously since he hadn't eaten in at least two days.<br />
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What I didn't know when I brought him in was that transporting him in my noisy, bumpy big diesel van wasn't a good idea - an animal with tetanus reacts to sound and movement in a negative way, stiffening up with each noise and bump. That explained why Yellow Kid had been able to walk just prior to our trip to the vet, but not after we arrived. Though not intentionally, I'd inadvertently bounced him in my noisy city-bus-of-a-van for the 20 minute ride to the emergency vet, which worsened his condition considerably.<br />
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After discussing the options with the ER vet, we decided that they'd treat him until the next morning, when I'd transfer him to our regular vet for continued treatment. So Monday morning I moved my board-stiff-cat - now in my quieter, smaller Kia van - and we headed to Denney Veterinary, where they babied him while he slowly recuperated.<br />
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His convalescence was slow in coming. They set him up in a big laundry basket in the middle of their work area so they could check on him frequently. Everyone fell in love with Yellow Kid. Even in his sad state, he'd purr when they talked with him, said a kind word to him, petted him, or encouraged him. They had never seen a cat with tetanus either, although they had experience with tetanus in dogs and horses. They were cautiously optimistic that Yellow Kid would pull through, and they worked hard to make it happen.<br />
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After several days of antibiotics, he slowly showed improvement. At first, he could just lift his head from his stiffened position, still laying on his side. He was hungry, and they discovered that he could eat wet cat food on his own, although he slopped it down his face and all over his blanket. Then he was able to move his shoulders, and then he was off IV completely. He could eat and drink on his own, although he was still stiff and laying on his side. They were able to feed him his antibiotics in pill-form. He'd started to move his front legs a bit, and they'd been seeing more and more improvement, so after ten days it was time for him to go home.<br />
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That night at home, after giving him the physical therapy suggested by his vet, I carefully placed him in the bathtub. He was still stiff and laying on his side, but he was safely "caged", unable to climb out of the bathtub. I fed him - he was back to voracious eating again - and left the door open to the bathroom so the other cats could visit.<br />
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Early the next morning I checked on him, only to find no Yellow Kid in the bathtub. Or in the bathroom. Or anywhere. He'd disappeared, and after several minutes of worrisome searching, I found him leaning against the stairs in a half-sitting position. He stood up to greet me, then toppled over. Somehow, he'd managed to crawl out of a extra tall porcelain bathtub and drag himself on his side to one of his favorite hiding spots 20 feet from the bathroom. He still had almost no balance, but was now able to half-sit up and lean against something, very tentatively. Progress! <br />
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So much for physical therapy - there wasn't any point in doing it when Yellow Kid was creating his own PT program. From then on, we just went outside, where he could crawl around in the grass and do his own thing for a half hour. Crawling turned to cockeyed sitting, then attempting to standing (and toppling over many, many times), then finally standing and taking a wobbly step. He was so determined, this big three year old cat who had endured so much. The improvements were amazing - for a cat that was stiff as a board just days prior, he was moving a different part of his body nearly every day.<br />
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Forgive me - this might be considered a gross photo, but when you realize that this was an impossibility just a few days earlier, you'll understand how astounded I was to see him grooming!<br />
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His appetite has definitely returned, right down to his daily 'salad', which is part of the Yellow Kid ritual. <br />
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And rolling around in the grass on a sunny day feels sooooo good!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TLyRdEKzKWI/AAAAAAAABlA/9fu38p7ufI0/s1600/IMG_5792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TLyRdEKzKWI/AAAAAAAABlA/9fu38p7ufI0/s320/IMG_5792.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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All amazing moves from a cat that used to look like a piece of firewood...<br />
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It's nearly three weeks since he came home, and he's 95% back to normal. I've noticed his stance is a bit bow-legged, but it doesn't seem to cause him any problems. He's now doing normal cat things - running up stairs when he hears the vacuum, jumping up on furniture, antagonizing his fellow kitties. But he's slowed down a bit, and also has become much more a loverboy, spending quite a bit of time rubbing up against my leg, asking for a head or back rub. It's as if he realizes he wouldn't be here except for the superb medical care and love he got from his vets.<br />
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A gigantic Thank You to veterinarians Dr. Denney and Dr. Heikes for their loving care of Yellow Kid. Though he's probably gone through half his lives with this episode, Yellow Kid is still one tough cat!beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-47110691112476381502010-10-07T13:43:00.000-05:002010-10-07T13:43:07.304-05:00Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=8870661&id=791920598" id="myphotolink" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img id="myphoto" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs186.ash2/44941_10150265528480599_791920598_15151441_734996_n.jpg" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Love this - it was a good kick in the backside this morning when I needed it. Thanks, Andrea Martin Cummings, for sharing this! </div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-26074233971812018332010-10-06T11:36:00.000-05:002010-10-06T11:36:20.592-05:00Thomas<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TKyNYMOluFI/AAAAAAAABis/L2NP_3h0YYM/s1600/IMG_1345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TKyNYMOluFI/AAAAAAAABis/L2NP_3h0YYM/s320/IMG_1345.JPG" width="213" /></a><br />
It's been one year today since Tom left. It seems like one day.<br />
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Lately, I've been thinking a lot about those last hours in the hospital with him. I knew the inevitable was coming, and that I would have to be strong because he needed me to be strong. I also knew that he was aware of everything going on around him, even though often it looked like he was sleeping.<br />
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I held his hand throughout that last night, couldn't sleep, knowing the hours were slipping away. The nurses kept checking on us, aware that Tom was leaving soon. Actually, they were checking on me - they'd become my temporary family, and they were there for me if I needed anything. <br />
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Tom's respirations were slowing, and he was peaceful. I'd talk with him, and he'd move his hand to let me know he'd heard me. Just before dawn, he confounded both his nurses and me with an unusual response. His respirations began picking up, getting stronger - not exactly what dying people do. At the time, it was confusing and disheartening. I wanted Tom move forward, to let go and to find himself in that wonderful place we call heaven. For reasons only Tom would think of, he wasn't quite ready yet.<br />
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Dawn came and went, and his breathing had strengthened for no apparent reason. Typical Tom - he was doing it his way.<br />
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My brother Andy showed up unexpectedly, walking into Tom's room in mid-morning. He said "Hi Tom!" and settled into a chair to visit. Andy lives more than an hour away, so I was surprised to see him as he hadn't mentioned he was coming. He told me that he hadn't been able to sleep (he works the afternoon shift) and so he decided to come see us.<br />
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Andy hadn't been there two minutes, and suddenly I realized that Tom was squeezing my hand really hard. He knew Andy was there. And he knew he could finally go home. I asked Andy to give us a few minutes alone, because I realized that Tom was saying goodbye. <br />
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Seconds after Andy left the room, Tom died. It took a few moments to sink in - but I suddenly realized why Tom hadn't died during the night, and why his respirations had increased so unexpectedly.<br />
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You see, Tom always had a sixth sense. During our 21 years together, he'd often tell me about his "thoughts". They weren't dreams. They were just "a feeling" he'd have about someone, usually someone he personally knew, about something that was to come but hadn't happened yet. Most of the time, his "thoughts" turned into reality, as if he was able to accurately predict the future. I just called it his sixth sense.<br />
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Somehow, Tom knew that Andy was coming to the hospital. And in true Tom-ism, he didn't want me to be alone when he died, so in the middle of the night he decided to wait around until Andy showed up. It's was Tom's final act of love for me, making sure that I had someone who loved me to be there when he chose to move on. That final long and hard squeeze of my hand told me everything - that he knew I was in good hands, that he loved me very much, and that I would be okay.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TKyNMVbl61I/AAAAAAAABio/JdbW0v_BxcE/s1600/IMG_0216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TKyNMVbl61I/AAAAAAAABio/JdbW0v_BxcE/s320/IMG_0216.JPG" width="283" /></a>It's a beautiful day today, an Indian Summer kind of day, warm, blue skies and trees turning colors. It would have been just the kind of day we'd jump in the car and ride back country roads for hours, roaming around with no particular place to go, enjoying the day. So that's what I'm going to do today. I'm going to roam around, enjoy a good afternoon, and then go visit Tom. He's at this lake, one of several places I've left his ashes. It's a wonderful, quiet place, a favorite lake where he fished for perch and trout. <br />
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Thank you, all my family and friends, for calling today, writing me emails, and letting me know you are thinking of me. Although it's a tough day, I'm ok. There's tears, but the good memories are out-weighing them. <br />
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Thank you all for your love - it's meant everything to me. May you be as blessed as I was for 21 years. He was a wonderful husband and a great friend. I was lucky enough to have the best.<br />
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Miss you, Thomas. xoxox<br />
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</a></div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-46988669172936964612010-08-22T10:51:00.071-05:002010-08-22T15:18:47.394-05:00A Good Day at Fiber Fest.<br />
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This year, I went to the Michigan Fiber Festival on Friday. Last year, although I enjoyed being there on a Saturday, I found myself feeling far too crowded. Because of the huge number of people at the show, you couldn't walk two steps in a straight line, and the opportunity to talk with vendors was non-existent. So this year I went on Friday, a fairly quiet day and a good chance to really <span style="font-style: italic;">see</span> Fiber Fest.<br />
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One of the first things I noticed is that vendors were selling. Consistently, I saw customers buying, buying, buying.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ4RGDJlI/AAAAAAAABJ0/Q1OY8t8N_cw/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508265050261104210" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ4RGDJlI/AAAAAAAABJ0/Q1OY8t8N_cw/s320/IMG_0145.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 205px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Sales were brisk at the Fiber Fest products booth.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">Not just at the festival booth - though they were doing very well - but everywhere I noticed that people were buying. In this economy, that was a welcome sight. I saw a lot of vendor's bags being carried, but I also saw spinning wheels and weaving frames going home with new owners.<br />
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Friday works well as a family day. There were plenty of women with their children, and because there wasn't an overwhelming crowd, it was actually fun for kids.<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ5P3OseI/AAAAAAAABKE/YFRRTATv9Ww/s1600/IMG_0152.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508265067110380002" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ5P3OseI/AAAAAAAABKE/YFRRTATv9Ww/s320/IMG_0152.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 187px;" /></a>These little girls were sitting on Mom's feet, playing the "I Want To Stay Here" game. It was actually pretty funny to watch .Mom was having fun teasing them, and everyone was having a good laugh. They were right in front of this booth:</div></div><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ5KcHSnI/AAAAAAAABKM/3krJzusMPWI/s1600/IMG_0153.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508265065654471282" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ5KcHSnI/AAAAAAAABKM/3krJzusMPWI/s320/IMG_0153.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 268px;" /></a>Once Mom had pointed these bags out to the girls, they immediately jumped up to see them. There were a whole lot of questions, and I was laughing as I left when I heard Mom explaining why there was poo in brown paper bags. (But $5 a bag???!!) <br />
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Vendors were able to relax in-between customers. They were spinning and rug hooking, which attracted even more customers curious about their crafts.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX12TO0KI/AAAAAAAABLc/wjHT5XvyL24/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> <img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508280401871687842" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX12TO0KI/AAAAAAAABLc/wjHT5XvyL24/s320/IMG_0162.JPG" style="height: 438px; width: 302px;" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX1sTU1hI/AAAAAAAABLU/yT5G3PxbsOs/s1600/IMG_0155.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508280399187727890" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX1sTU1hI/AAAAAAAABLU/yT5G3PxbsOs/s320/IMG_0155.JPG" style="height: 439px; width: 294px;" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFKu_jAliI/AAAAAAAABKU/uFSiErQ8TGo/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFXz9gWD6I/AAAAAAAABK8/buerIPjkZqk/s1600/IMG_0156.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508280369445998498" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFXz9gWD6I/AAAAAAAABK8/buerIPjkZqk/s640/IMG_0156.JPG" style="height: 360px; width: 199px;" width="353" /></a>People watching at the show was fabulous. I saw this woman in her completely knitted outfit and couldn't help but take a photo. She was knitted from head to toe, and even her bag was knitted in complimentary colors. Turns out she wears knitwear to the Fiber Fest each year, and vendors actually recognize her for her knit clothing.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">Some of vendors were a bit different than what one might expect at a fiber show. I loved this watercolor artist's paintings - they were absolutely gorgeous. But the vendor that really caught my eye was the felting artist - at first glance, I thought it was a painting. Her felted scenes were astoundingly accurate; she certainly was an imaginative artist, and has taken felting to a new artistic level.<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508265056578575010" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJ4ooQGqI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ew-y3eRcfC8/s320/IMG_0148.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 284px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /><span style="font-style: italic;">These watercolors really added to the show.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THGCYbQt53I/AAAAAAAABME/e7qmL7FNGWo/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THGCYbQt53I/AAAAAAAABME/e7qmL7FNGWo/s320/IMG_0151.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgMcJsYNI/AAAAAAAABLk/Yc27dPr1kho/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="155" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508289586082373842" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgMcJsYNI/AAAAAAAABLk/Yc27dPr1kho/s200/IMG_0150.JPG" style="height: 249px; width: 320px;" width="200" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgNGvBWyI/AAAAAAAABLs/aIjrzGPcHpI/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgNGvBWyI/AAAAAAAABLs/aIjrzGPcHpI/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgNGvBWyI/AAAAAAAABLs/aIjrzGPcHpI/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgNGvBWyI/AAAAAAAABLs/aIjrzGPcHpI/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFgNGvBWyI/AAAAAAAABLs/aIjrzGPcHpI/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> <span style="font-style: italic;">Yep - both these pictures were felted. (Sorry for the glass glare on the shepherd - there was a white pole right in front of this picture.) The photo on the left sold immediately, but the adorable kittens and puppies picture was still available. </span><br />
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Then there were the classes. Classes were everywhere, scattered in buildings throughout the show. I took a few shots of friends taking classes - thanks for allowing me to shoot you! :)<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX1U2GurI/AAAAAAAABLM/4IMjIEOuMKU/s1600/IMG_0160.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508280392891153074" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFX1U2GurI/AAAAAAAABLM/4IMjIEOuMKU/s320/IMG_0160.JPG" style="height: 320px; width: 251px;" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THF0U15G-nI/AAAAAAAABL0/OpzEFJcHwdc/s1600/IMG_0173.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508311720663644786" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THF0U15G-nI/AAAAAAAABL0/OpzEFJcHwdc/s320/IMG_0173.JPG" style="height: 320px; width: 290px;" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFKvau7gkI/AAAAAAAABKc/C9U0mdk1m_U/s1600/IMG_0173.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"> </a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFKvau7gkI/AAAAAAAABKc/C9U0mdk1m_U/s1600/IMG_0173.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i>On the left, Karel was concentrating on her Knitting Tips class, while on the right, Terri was sitting outside<span style="color: black;"> </span></i> <i><span style="color: black;">in the shade, finishing her basket class. </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And then there were the animals. Many of them hadn't arrived yet, and some were just being unloaded.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">The photos pretty much speak for themselves. All of these guys loved attention, and although a bit shy, most of them allowed a pet or two. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJJFMAHXI/AAAAAAAABJc/vUePwCl6faY/s1600/IMG_0135.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508264239610994034" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/THFJJFMAHXI/AAAAAAAABJc/vUePwCl6faY/s320/IMG_0135.JPG" style="display: block; height: 228px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<i>The little guy at right was one of my favorites - I think he was a Pygora (cross between a Pygmy and an Angora goat). He spent much of his time literally sticking his nose into my camera lens or happily chewing on the hem of my blouse. He was a lot of fun, especially when I could get him far enough away from the lens that I could actually get a shot.</i><br />
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Overall, it was a great day. Very relaxing, with good food from the Allegan Band Booster concession (quite reasonable too - a Brat was only $2.50, and along with a fresh hand-cut fruit cup and large iced tea, the who bill was around $6 or so). I walked the show three times, didn't feel crowded even though there were a lot of people there, and had lots of fun wandering with my friend Gloria.<br />
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It was a good day.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"></div></div></div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-52992670627849788412010-08-15T11:31:00.012-05:002010-08-15T21:04:57.961-05:00Knitters at Smashburger!A few weeks ago, I received this mysterious email via Urbanspoon Kalamazoo, a local restaurant review site where I occasionally post. The email was from Katie Hallin, of SmashVenture, inviting me to a "social media lunch" at the new Smashburger restaurant. It was a "soft opening", scheduled the day before Smashburger officially opened, designed to give the new staff some early practice. <img src="file:///C:/Users/Beth/Pictures/Smashburger/DSC04819.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Beth/Pictures/Smashburger/DSC04819.JPG" alt="" /><br />Smashburger is the newest franchise restaurant in town, and is owned by Terry and Jean Henderson, longtime Kalamazoo restauranteurs. This Smashburger is the only one in Michigan, and the Hendersons are planning to expand in other Michigan locations.<br /><br />After a few emails back and forth, I told them I was coming, with friends - knitting friends, all ready to test out the new menu and give their opinions.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiYSUAygAI/AAAAAAAABIo/daEj0luiWhM/s1600/DSC04819.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiYSUAygAI/AAAAAAAABIo/daEj0luiWhM/s320/DSC04819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505817984837517314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"> Here we are, just before lunch arrives - Kay, Val, Karel, Becky and me. </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;">(Note the knitting on the table!</span>) </div><br />Five of us arrived, and after ordering, we took a look around. The restaurant isn't large, but still manages to handle a good-sized number of people. About 20 people were joining us for lunch initially, and others came a bit later. There's both booth and table seating. We happened to discover that the bench seating we were using needed a bit of adjustment - the one end kept sliding downwards, making for uncomfortable seating. We mentioned it to the staff, who quickly responded.<br /><br />We also checked out the ladies room. It's clean, neat, spacious, functional.<br /><br />Then we ordered. Amongst us, there were several who are diet-conscious, but Smashburger can handle it. Not only could we order salads as a main course, but some of us custom-ordered our sandwiches, picking and choosing ingredients that specifically suited our dietary requirements.<br /><br />The sandwiches were rated well, with everyone liking their choices. One of the top-rated sandwiches was the Avocado Chicken Club sandwich, which included chicken you can have your chicken crispy or grilled. The apple-smoked bacon was generous, and added much flavor. Now if they could add just a teensy bit more avocado, it would be a perfect sandwich!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiRZ210sBI/AAAAAAAABIg/ftBxcT7djzs/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiRZ210sBI/AAAAAAAABIg/ftBxcT7djzs/s320/IMG_0127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505810417864454162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Friends Karel and Val testing the onion rings.</span><br /></div><br />I ordered the sweet potato fries to share with the table, and they were fabulous. Not greasy at all, with good yammy flavor - I'll eat them anytime! On the other hand, the Haystack onion rings were nice, very thinly sliced and served with a dipping sauce, but a bit too salty.<br /><br />For fun, we tried the fried pickles, and found them to be quite different - dill pickle slices deep fried, so definitely not diet food, but very tasty. I probably won't order a whole order again - the serving was <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> generous, but if they add a smaller portion serving, I can be tempted.<br /><br />Although they weren't ready to offer full servings of their shakes, several of us tried the test portions of Smashburger's Michigan cherry shake. We all gave that one two thumbs up. Great cherry flavor, very natural tasting (unlike some restaurants that use a cherry syrup flavor that is artificial tasting). That's going to be on my list for my next trip.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiZj-f8-MI/AAAAAAAABIw/Cu2fKwZLSig/s1600/IMG_0128.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGiZj-f8-MI/AAAAAAAABIw/Cu2fKwZLSig/s320/IMG_0128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505819387811920066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Smashburger owners Jean and Terry Henderson, with Marketing Manager Katie Hallin.</span><br /></div><br />Thanks, Smashburger, for inviting us - you've found five new customers, and there's more knitters from where we came from!beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-6952096578088544682010-08-10T19:19:00.007-05:002010-08-10T20:34:14.193-05:00Shopping Isn't My ThingWith the exception of grocery shopping, I <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span> shop. Well, occasionally yard sales, just because my car chokes every time I pass one and it's just not fair being mean to my car. But my clothes and household items usually come from yarn sales, just because that's my price point - pretty cheap. I have jeans that are older than your college-graduated kids.<br /><br />So going into a Target the other day was sorta scary. After all, I didn't have a shopping list, and my budget was small. But after spending three and a half hours there (really! nobody believes me, but I had decades to make up), I came away with some good - no, great - finds.<br /><br />I had to have a purpose to set foot inside Target. As I'm going down to Georgia at the end of the month for son Shawn's graduation from Army Officer Training School (Yay Shawn!!), I needed a few things.<br /><br />Like a dress, for example. For the past 20 years, I haven't had much need of a dress. You don't need one to be an antiques dealer, or a photographer, or a freelance writer (my office dress code is jammies), and the only dress I own is a long sleeved black velvet dress. Definitely cute, but not Georgia-tolerant in August.<br /><br />Why do I need a dress, you might wonder. Shawn surprised me last month with the news that he wanted me to pin his officer's ranking thingie (sorry, Shawn, I don't know what the heck you call that thing) on him at graduation. <span style="font-style: italic;">This is a very big deal. </span>It's a big deal for him, because it represents five months of grueling training in the super-hot Georgia sun, and it's a big deal for me, because I'm representing Tom, who won't be there. We're going to have a big cry, and then we're going to celebrate. Shawn's definitely earned this one!<br /><br />So back to Target. After much searching and comparison, I found this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGHw3vYGqAI/AAAAAAAABHY/oN23m7xFvPU/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 496px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGHw3vYGqAI/AAAAAAAABHY/oN23m7xFvPU/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503945060024494082" border="0" /></a>Yeah, I hung it up outside on my barn, just so I can take photos of it. Barns are great for that. The best news is that God was smiling upon me, and let me find this great blastedly-hot-Georgia-weather dress for <span style="font-style: italic;">only $20.</span> Regular price, not even on sale. And it even fits, not always an easy feat.<br /><br />Even better, it's lightweight, and scrunches up in a ball, a necessary requirement, since I have to jam it in this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH0qJEHVmI/AAAAAAAABHg/vb0oJs_7SPc/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 409px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH0qJEHVmI/AAAAAAAABHg/vb0oJs_7SPc/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503949224448317026" border="0" /></a><br />It looks bigger than it is. It's 20x13x7 inches, so it will fit up in the plan's overhead. I just refuse to pay to take a suitcase on a plane. Yes, I am cheap. Usually that's a good thing. But wandering around Target in circles was a whole new experience for this unshopper, and I somehow found myself way in the back corner looking at luggage. My old duffel bag is probably still serviceable - after 25 years, it only has a couple of small holes - and I was just planning on using that. But I did a double-take at the price, and then a triple-quadruple-quintuple-take. The regular price on the tag said <span style="font-style: italic;">twenty dollars</span> for all three pieces. God was still smiling on me. Of course, he already knows what's in my wallet, because Tom told him.<br /><br />So I dragged my dress and my luggage towards the front of the store, quite pleased with myself and with my finds, in that order. But wait! There's a 50% sale rack - can't pass that up! And I found myself flipping through that rack and six more, until I found - 45 minutes later - this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH4CDlnq4I/AAAAAAAABHo/SoeVGBa6Ybw/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH4CDlnq4I/AAAAAAAABHo/SoeVGBa6Ybw/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503952933829979010" border="0" /></a><br />That raspberry color just screamed "Take me home - <span style="font-style: italic;">now</span>!" and once I'd seen this third price tag, I knew it was being piled on top of the dress on top of the rolling luggage. It was $10. By now, I just know that Tom's sitting in his boat up in heaven, fishing rod in hand, laughing himself silly. He knows how I hate to shop, and he knows God is messing with me.<br /><br />But, of course, all good times must come to an end.<br /><br />I was so excited that I'd found this adorable lightweight blastedly-hot-Georgia-weather sweater, that I set down my wallet for a moment to try it on. And look it over for any problems that would cause other savvy shoppers to ignore it. Not finding any problems, I headed up to the cash register to quickly pay for my finds before someone discovered that I was robbing Target blind.<br /><br />And that's where God had his last laugh. I no longer had my wallet with me. And I didn't have the slightest idea where I'd left it. I'd been in six different departments, had circled half the store in mindless amazement of all the cool stuff one can buy, and most likely set my wallet down thirty times. In thirty places.<br /><br />So I tried to nonchalantly wander back through my circuitous path - as I remembered it - and after 45 minutes and passing the same spot four times, found my wallet. Nobody had touched it - after all, it looked like no one had opened it in years - and I dragged myself up front to the cash registers again, paid and left. Total time in Target: three-and-a half-hours. Really.<br /><br />One more stop, and I'm headed home. I needed to swing through Joann's Fabrics just to ogle some yarn I've been thinking about. And I had the last laugh (forgive me, God, but I was really only laughing at Tom):<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH9jbFosAI/AAAAAAAABHw/IHQ9WeEkgDA/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 551px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TGH9jbFosAI/AAAAAAAABHw/IHQ9WeEkgDA/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503959004632100866" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Giant needles, at Joann's, on sale - all three for $5.19. <br /><br />Take that, Tom!!!<br /></div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-20660050287409509392010-08-03T09:47:00.002-05:002010-08-06T10:25:53.757-05:00Art Yarning The Kalamazoo MallThere's a reason they call them "yarnstorms" - it's because all of us in ZooKnit have been knitting up a "storm" for our latest art project: the Kalamazoo downtown mall. If want want a closer look at any of the photos, just click on them.<br /><br />We chose the Mall because of it's central location for tonight's monthly Art Hop, where many galleries and restaurants are open late on the first Friday of the month. Here's the result of many, many hours of knitting by many different people.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwYizER1dI/AAAAAAAABEc/TiDAGxbJamA/s1600/IMG_0001.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 508px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwYizER1dI/AAAAAAAABEc/TiDAGxbJamA/s320/IMG_0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502299830842676690" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZcBifZDI/AAAAAAAABEs/d61NNwSCYTU/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZcBifZDI/AAAAAAAABEs/d61NNwSCYTU/s320/IMG_0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502300813980034098" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Sheila's many tree scarves were bright and colorful, just as she is!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZLxvTBrI/AAAAAAAABEk/x88vKnhxSZo/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZLxvTBrI/AAAAAAAABEk/x88vKnhxSZo/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502300534860875442" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwoAgE4R8I/AAAAAAAABG0/2loFTS7VpNc/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwoAgE4R8I/AAAAAAAABG0/2loFTS7VpNc/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502316833815414722" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /></div>The piece above was hung from an umbrella that sits over one of the public patio tables. After we were finished with our project we went across the street for supper. When I came out, it was gone. Obviously, someone <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> liked it. It lasted less than two hours.<br /><br />We know our art won't last long after installation. We accept that, and we hope it's new owners will appreciate the time and effort each piece required. I'd love to think that this brightly colored piece will be worn this winter. If so, then I am honored to have made it for someone who loved it enough to take it, and probably needed it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnWNG-c9I/AAAAAAAABGc/UoEEjguYX-g/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnWNG-c9I/AAAAAAAABGc/UoEEjguYX-g/s320/IMG_0021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502316107169428434" border="0" /> </a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnhkepYLI/AAAAAAAABGk/4I9moc2Bbu4/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnhkepYLI/AAAAAAAABGk/4I9moc2Bbu4/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502316302421287090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We have a rule: We check our installations regularly, and if any remain after two weeks, we remove it. Our yarn art is meant to be a temporary joy, hopefully bringing an unexpected smile or giggle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnvejoQ6I/AAAAAAAABGs/Gd7Wa56X7fw/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwnvejoQ6I/AAAAAAAABGs/Gd7Wa56X7fw/s320/IMG_0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502316541349741474" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwos6dfpgI/AAAAAAAABG8/2IIyDM3ANJE/s1600/IMG_0047.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 305px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwos6dfpgI/AAAAAAAABG8/2IIyDM3ANJE/s320/IMG_0047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502317596812224002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We attracted a lot of attention. First, there was the grumpy police officer, walking through the Mall. He stopped and watched us for a few minutes, sipping his cold drink. I waved, but he didn't wave back. Since he was only about 10 yards from us, I waved again. He frowned. I asked him why he wasn't waving back (may as well strike up a conversation, right?), and he answered gruffly, "I'm trying to figure out what you are doing."<br /><br />During this exchange, the other gals are continuing to install our yarn. They're pretending he doesn't exist, while I'm explaining, "Oh, we're just doing an art installation for the Art Hop."<br /><br />"When's that?" grumps the cop. "It's tomorrow night," I said. "Hmmmpphhhh." said the cop, and he wandered away. I would have taken a photo of him, but decided to leave well enough alone. No point in aggravating a non-yarnie with a badge.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwbjgMV3RI/AAAAAAAABE8/wXmXHCX5BCI/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwbjgMV3RI/AAAAAAAABE8/wXmXHCX5BCI/s320/IMG_0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502303141490973970" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />So we continued on. And we attracted a lot of attention from passersby. Street people abound in downtown Kalamazoo, and they've learned to befriend - temporarily - anyone who will talk with them. One man talked quite a bit about his poetry about God, and about his obituary poem. Another man, sitting on a nearby bench, mostly talked to himself but would occasionally would direct his discussions towards us, and we would nod sagely and smile. Nearly every street person asked us for money, and just smiled and moved on when we politely said no.<br /><br />(Within two blocks of the Kalamazoo Mall are two different missions, both available to street people; all the local street people are familiar with and use these missions. However, we were new "targets" on the mall, so we were fair game for panhandling, especially since Mr. Police Officer was no longer around.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZ6hclyJI/AAAAAAAABE0/AFy6noIVP5k/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwZ6hclyJI/AAAAAAAABE0/AFy6noIVP5k/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502301337941297298" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwcfOlTM3I/AAAAAAAABFM/UgJTFlKcQmY/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwcfOlTM3I/AAAAAAAABFM/UgJTFlKcQmY/s320/IMG_0014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502304167555969906" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">One of the funniest moments was when we learned we had just beautifully decorated a mobile plant! Val had placed pretty glass ornaments with yarn inside around what she thought was a big bush, only to learn from the owner that the bush was in a planter on wheels, and that they wheeled it into Cafe Casa each evening at close, fearing it wouldn't be there the next morning. We quickly offered to undecorate it, but they liked our decorations very much, and asked if it was okay if they could just wheel their yarned bush inside and then outdoors each day! (Sorry, the camera didn't come out until after they'd closed for the day, art yarned bush safely inside their cafe.)<br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We liked those folks so much for their positive attitude, we left them a present - a rainbow yarn curlicue with the tag "You are beautiful" on their shop's door handle. (see photo above)<br /><br />We had so many positive comments from those strolling the mall. And three people offered to take our photo with our camera! Guess they recognized our pride in our art, and wanted to help us document ourselves doing what we love.<br /><br />Here's some more art we installed last night - enjoy!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwghfD8tTI/AAAAAAAABGM/vVlSa_Gi5w0/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwghfD8tTI/AAAAAAAABGM/vVlSa_Gi5w0/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502308604385735986" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgSVVyO4I/AAAAAAAABF8/YhmZXRMWpP8/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgSVVyO4I/AAAAAAAABF8/YhmZXRMWpP8/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502308344078154626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Glass yarn balls hanging from a tree, plus a neckerchief for the water fountain.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwf9dxHzDI/AAAAAAAABFs/Gh2WqydctD8/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG"> </a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwf9dxHzDI/AAAAAAAABFs/Gh2WqydctD8/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwf9dxHzDI/AAAAAAAABFs/Gh2WqydctD8/s320/IMG_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502307985563044914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwf4KJS2SI/AAAAAAAABFk/hjxm4hWBqYw/s1600/IMG_0029.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwf4KJS2SI/AAAAAAAABFk/hjxm4hWBqYw/s320/IMG_0029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502307894396377378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Chain and Lock was a fabulous project that Terri knit and then hung on a pair of doors at one of the closed stores on the Mall. We did our part to beautify the trash bins, too!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwfxVJCFqI/AAAAAAAABFc/dtfzbnU4MsA/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwfxVJCFqI/AAAAAAAABFc/dtfzbnU4MsA/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502307777088984738" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwfrZMrfnI/AAAAAAAABFU/8Z-t8fmURys/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwpNTLWJrI/AAAAAAAABHE/jPpLdtkWXGQ/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwpNTLWJrI/AAAAAAAABHE/jPpLdtkWXGQ/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502318153202804402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We love all the seating on the Mall, and concentrated on decorating them too. But one of the best parts of our installation was the Dog-wood Tree, sporting knit dogs from Zooknitter Joan.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgYYsWQNI/AAAAAAAABGE/AujcJf-dGys/s1600/IMG_0048.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgYYsWQNI/AAAAAAAABGE/AujcJf-dGys/s320/IMG_0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502308448057311442" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgFnnfomI/AAAAAAAABF0/hhs1rzZvNmQ/s1600/IMG_0037.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwgFnnfomI/AAAAAAAABF0/hhs1rzZvNmQ/s320/IMG_0037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502308125645972066" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We left hanging tags attached to our art throughout the project, asking for comment at this blog, hoping to get some input on our art mission. In the meantime, we're gearing up for our next project. More guerrilla knitting coming somewhere in Kalamazoo soon . . .<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwjbHYoTPI/AAAAAAAABGU/oErg5XA140I/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TFwjbHYoTPI/AAAAAAAABGU/oErg5XA140I/s320/IMG_0002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502311793485696242" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /></div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-30305368769206578722010-06-20T12:27:00.015-05:002010-06-20T14:02:27.957-05:002010 World Wide Knit-in-Public Day - I love Challenges!.<br />It was just a few minutes before our event, and I pulled up in front of the restaurant we were using for WWKiP this year. I was running a bit late, but had it all planned in my mind for set-up of the registration table, the Sponsors' Table, and the table our speaker would be using, so I wasn't sweating it at all - until I saw <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span>:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5ePoTG-8I/AAAAAAAAA94/VSQwZNbQBrU/s1600/IMG_0270.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5ePoTG-8I/AAAAAAAAA94/VSQwZNbQBrU/s320/IMG_0270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484925018792459202" border="0" /></a></div>Since I'd spoken to both restaurant managers within the past two weeks, I was dumbfounded. But closed they were, and WWKiP participants were arriving as I stood there in disbelief.<br /><br />It took seconds to sink in, and a few minutes to re-think and move to Plan B. Unknown numbers of people were expecting their WWKiP, and I had to think fast.<br /><br />First, I drove over very quickly to a nearby restaurant a mile away to ask if we could move there. The restaurant wasn't open for another hour, but I could see movement back in the kitchen, and pounded on the door until a somewhat bewildered manager opened. After all, it isn't every Saturday morning that some crazy woman is pounding on your restaurant door an hour early.<br /><br />But the crazy woman had a knitting emergency!!! As I explained the problem, he immediately welcomed our group, but mentioned that he was short on staff and that they wouldn't be there for another 45 minutes. Ahhh, I said, not a problem - we knitters come prepared with our own personal entertainment.<br /><br />After giving him a giant hug for allowing our group inside his restaurant early, I zoomed back to the Stupid Restaurant and posted our "new meeting place" sign:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5Qinfs0RI/AAAAAAAAA8I/ZEqzGuzt2lA/s1600/IMG_0269.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5Qinfs0RI/AAAAAAAAA8I/ZEqzGuzt2lA/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484909951831560466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Notice the other small pink sticky-notes? Those are two other groups who were planning to use the Stupid Restaurant, and had also left memos about where they had moved on.<br /><br />At the Great and Wonderful Erbelli's Restaurant (that's what I call them, but their sign doesn't include the superlatives) we quickly set up our WWKiP. I say "we" because several of the gals helped me drag stuff in, set up our tables and generally get the show up and rolling. Thank you to Jan and Karen - your help was much appreciated!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5QjfefKQI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/u0dJA9VPwlo/s1600/IMG_0272.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5QjfefKQI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/u0dJA9VPwlo/s320/IMG_0272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484909966858856706" border="0" /></a>Barb Marr, of Marr Haven Wool Farm in Allegan, gave a great presentation on being a small business owner of a Merino-Rambouillet sheep farm. She's funny, and quite entertaining, and we all enjoyed her discussion of the trials and tribulations of buying rams, owning sheep, and the differences in her wool. Great talk, Barb!<br /><br />She also donated beautiful yarn for our WWKiP drawings. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UHFZAI1I/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Z-ThXG_egoc/s1600/IMG_0276.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UHFZAI1I/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Z-ThXG_egoc/s320/IMG_0276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484913876866704210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Other wonderful Sponsors for the KazooYarnies' 2010 WWKiP included Ideal Images of Kalamazoo, Your Local Yarn Shop of Battle Creek, Studio June Yarn of Kalamazoo, Becky Chambers and Kay Alexander, both KazooYarnies. Here's their generous donations:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UHQPRGMI/AAAAAAAAA8g/IxqQ6dD6Ksw/s1600/IMG_0289.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UHQPRGMI/AAAAAAAAA8g/IxqQ6dD6Ksw/s320/IMG_0289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484913879778662594" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UIrFEtzI/AAAAAAAAA8w/xudoT7IWtW0/s1600/IMG_0291.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UIrFEtzI/AAAAAAAAA8w/xudoT7IWtW0/s320/IMG_0291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484913904163534642" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UINXYUKI/AAAAAAAAA8o/ZNAnLMt6xFA/s1600/IMG_0290.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5UINXYUKI/AAAAAAAAA8o/ZNAnLMt6xFA/s320/IMG_0290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484913896187252898" border="0" /></a><br /><br />One of our KazooYarnies made special knitterly buttons with some fabulous mottoes, and they were only $2 each. I quickly snagged one of the "Charity Knitter" buttons. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5cSmSvT3I/AAAAAAAAA9o/brk9p1jYy7g/s1600/IMG_0293.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5cSmSvT3I/AAAAAAAAA9o/brk9p1jYy7g/s320/IMG_0293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484922870770388850" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The food at Erbelli's was great, and having a bar made it even better. I was surely tempted, and encouraged by very understanding K-i-P friends. However, the worst was over and the WWKiP was going well. Here's our group with their door prizes:<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5Z1B51EAI/AAAAAAAAA84/tsJfPxVSmC0/s1600/IMG_0311.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 470px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5Z1B51EAI/AAAAAAAAA84/tsJfPxVSmC0/s320/IMG_0311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484920163762769922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Note: Linda (front right) was having a glass of wine for me, which I made me feel a whole lot better.<br /><br />Thanks to our best-of-best Sponsors for their generous yarnie prizes - many of our group went home smiling because of you.<br /><br />We also did show-and-tell, and were inspired by beautiful projects - here's just a few:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5beI9gDtI/AAAAAAAAA9g/XqqESZn9U0c/s1600/IMG_0307.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5beI9gDtI/AAAAAAAAA9g/XqqESZn9U0c/s320/IMG_0307.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484921969543483090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bdpCPE4I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/IAo8RxvXS_E/s1600/IMG_0302.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 304px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bdpCPE4I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/IAo8RxvXS_E/s320/IMG_0302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484921960973407106" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bdTZQBgI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/oudGq_MQyVs/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bdTZQBgI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/oudGq_MQyVs/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484921955164358146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bcsyfJKI/AAAAAAAAA9I/Mey5CPHbME4/s1600/IMG_0296.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bcsyfJKI/AAAAAAAAA9I/Mey5CPHbME4/s320/IMG_0296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484921944801223842" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bcFpphXI/AAAAAAAAA9A/-WAWh9zyx58/s1600/IMG_0295.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5bcFpphXI/AAAAAAAAA9A/-WAWh9zyx58/s320/IMG_0295.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484921934295172466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Below is the ChickenLady, aka Kim Wood, who won a ten-pack of beautiful Cascade 220 wool yarn, donated by Your Local Yarn Shop. Kim sure is smiling - she won the "farthest from home" Grand Prize by driving 35 miles one way to our WWKiP!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5cTWjZcuI/AAAAAAAAA9w/Ju1tGOZR5Qc/s1600/IMG_0308.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TB5cTWjZcuI/AAAAAAAAA9w/Ju1tGOZR5Qc/s320/IMG_0308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484922883725161186" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I want to thank everyone who came to this year's World Wide Knit-in-Public. Sorry for the temporary disruption, but sure glad you were able to share a really fun afternoon! Special thanks to Barb Marr of Marr Haven Wood Farm - hope you can join us at one of our regular K-i-Ps to share more sheep stories!beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-17757982059930845382010-06-06T17:36:00.019-05:002010-06-07T20:28:55.433-05:00Other People Must Love Yarn Storming Too.<br />Last week we yarned Bronson Park, and - because we're a curious group of gals - several of us checked the park over the next few days to see what was or wasn't there.<br /><br /><br />Before we'd even left the park on the first night, one of our knitters noticed that I'd dropped one of the parking meter cozies. I hadn't yet realized it, but since she did, she headed over to pick it up - <span style="font-style: italic;">except</span> a fellow walking by it saw and snagged it, read the card attached, and stuffed it in his pocket.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwqTYMXEAI/AAAAAAAAA6o/GX93hdfZa9Y/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwqTYMXEAI/AAAAAAAAA6o/GX93hdfZa9Y/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479801359003226114" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ever since, I've been wildly imagining what interesting event he's planning with his own personal parking meter cozy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgZr11sI/AAAAAAAAA6A/F9F2CW_roX4/s1600/IMG_0028.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgZr11sI/AAAAAAAAA6A/F9F2CW_roX4/s320/IMG_0028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479796085183862466" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The next morning, Sheila checked the park and immediately noticed that the felted yarn ornaments she'd made were gone (above). We've been laughing about that; while she was hanging them, she told us that she was going to feel really bad if all the other stuff was taken, but not her ornaments. Obviously, she underestimated her beautiful ornaments and their public appeal. Loved and gone!<br /><br />The bench scarf was gone too, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwrFhRqrfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/w-0S1CZMLUk/s1600/IMG_0054.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwrFhRqrfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/w-0S1CZMLUk/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479802220434861554" border="0" /></a> as was the trash can cozy. <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgzgYIDI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/AraMFskTcSU/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgzgYIDI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/AraMFskTcSU/s320/IMG_0130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479796092115099698" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgrztcnI/AAAAAAAAA6I/wkZ25I9mqIs/s1600/IMG_0135.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlgrztcnI/AAAAAAAAA6I/wkZ25I9mqIs/s320/IMG_0135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479796090048705138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlhUJA87I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/Mac_yY5pTJc/s1600/IMG_0112.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwlhUJA87I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/Mac_yY5pTJc/s320/IMG_0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479796100875482034" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />And for some reason, someone really wanted that picnic table scarf. That didn't last 24 hours. Not surprisingly, Terri's beautiful tam was gone too - and someone now has one gorgeous little hat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwpTJU4x-I/AAAAAAAAA6g/IJF5LV3Xz5Y/s1600/IMG_0099.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwpTJU4x-I/AAAAAAAAA6g/IJF5LV3Xz5Y/s320/IMG_0099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479800255500830690" border="0" /></a> <br />Over the next couple of days, our yarn art was pretty much left alone. Only the parking meter cozies disappeared - five of them were gone, two remained.<br /><br />But some time after the two-day Art Fair opened, things started leaving quickly. One of the benches no longer had it's bright sweater, and one of the evergreens had lost it's shawl - but the<br />new owner had left the tag so we wouldn't forget.<br /><br />.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwrFhRqrfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/w-0S1CZMLUk/s1600/IMG_0054.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwrFhRqrfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/w-0S1CZMLUk/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479802220434861554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsPu7NYTI/AAAAAAAAA7A/6fGVcVvqKvo/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsPu7NYTI/AAAAAAAAA7A/6fGVcVvqKvo/s320/IMG_0145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479803495409082674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />While wandering the Art Fair on Saturday, I was tickled to see the reaction of the public. The photos below speak for themselves.<br /><br />Children played on the statues, and this young girl enjoyed the art fair activities from her own special seat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsQCToa8I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/YwANei6l_KI/s1600/IMG_0206.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 390px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsQCToa8I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/YwANei6l_KI/s320/IMG_0206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479803500611791810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Women laughed at the adorable pink hat and scarf on the pointing little girl;<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsQYfAUSI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/srFikS2__4w/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 371px; height: 337px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsQYfAUSI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/srFikS2__4w/s320/IMG_0207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479803506565075234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>And a lady deep in conversation with her friend never even noticed the bench decoration she was resting her hand on.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsP0bxNKI/AAAAAAAAA7I/3TtiT-z3_MY/s1600/IMG_0174.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsP0bxNKI/AAAAAAAAA7I/3TtiT-z3_MY/s320/IMG_0174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479803496887825570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But of all I saw, this is the one that gave me pause, then brought me the biggest grin. Originally Val had placed the yarn bracelet on this little girl's wrist, but someone thought it looked much better as a headband. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Interactive Yarn Art!!!! </span><br /><br /></span>How cool is that? Especially since that Artiste had to climb quite high on the statue, carefully balance themselves, and then stretch it tightly so it would fit around the little girl's head.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsPObVgaI/AAAAAAAAA64/Kmniq3KnUxw/s1600/IMG_0144.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAwsPObVgaI/AAAAAAAAA64/Kmniq3KnUxw/s320/IMG_0144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479803486685462946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Less than an hour later, it was obvious that others really liked that headband too - it was gone, taken in the midst of more than 1,000 people enjoying the Art Fair.<br /><br />That makes me smile too.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-61835545627173121532010-06-06T14:26:00.002-05:002010-06-06T14:40:06.002-05:00Yarn Storming at Bronson Park, Kalamazoo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4gqEhEKI/AAAAAAAAA5o/nJtDJFfjJJY/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4gqEhEKI/AAAAAAAAA5o/nJtDJFfjJJY/s320/IMG_0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479746611559076002" border="0" /></a><br />.<br /><br />Our first yarnstorm, and right off the bat we meet the police.<br /><br />Kalamazoo's Finest were on bike patrol in Bronson Park, and even though it's large park, somehow they just happened to sit at a picnic table <span style="font-style: italic;">right in the middle of where we were installing yarn. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriOU9lXqI/AAAAAAAAA3U/P80R4935CcQ/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 479px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriOU9lXqI/AAAAAAAAA3U/P80R4935CcQ/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440632422686370" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The three of them watched us for a while, somewhat bemused at these ladies of the yarn, and then finally asked Sheila and Becky very politely, "Whatcha doin'?"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriPIjArjI/AAAAAAAAA3c/94p30lKnYDU/s1600/IMG_0027.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 665px; height: 178px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriPIjArjI/AAAAAAAAA3c/94p30lKnYDU/s320/IMG_0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440646269873714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I suddenly realized that Becky was explaining our purpose to them, and quickly shot the above photo from quite a distance away. Sheila never batted an eye, and never stopped hanging yarn balls from the tree. Becky told them that we were installing Yarn Art for the upcoming weekend's Kalamazoo Institute of Art's annual Art Fair. One of the officers responded, "Art Fair?????" They just smiled, got on their bikes, and rode off to catch bad guys. Guess we just didn't fit the bill.<br /><br />So we continued on, laughing and giggling our way through trees big and small, benches, trash cans, statues of children in the fountain, a picnic table, the Abraham Lincoln historical sign, parking meters, and the railings to the band shell.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriM1ZCHiI/AAAAAAAAA3M/jpFnM7XW0pI/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 397px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriM1ZCHiI/AAAAAAAAA3M/jpFnM7XW0pI/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440606768012834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAvsOfoaoyI/AAAAAAAAA5I/EAUwxDI1JjA/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 470px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAvsOfoaoyI/AAAAAAAAA5I/EAUwxDI1JjA/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479733105379681058" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Terri wrapped a huge sycamore with a giant tree cozy, and Val placed a little yarn bracelet on one of the children in the fountain. She and Terri also installed gorgeous hats and scarves on the children as people nearby watched us in curiosity.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4gqEhEKI/AAAAAAAAA5o/nJtDJFfjJJY/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4gqEhEKI/AAAAAAAAA5o/nJtDJFfjJJY/s320/IMG_0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479746611559076002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We hung bright pink laminated tags on many of the works, in hopes that folks might recognize them as art and leave them alone. However, we all knew that most likely our yarn art wouldn't be there long, and it was okay with us if they were liberated.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR3pde3_I/AAAAAAAAA2s/jHrgasl9Tno/s1600/IMG_0031.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 251px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR3pde3_I/AAAAAAAAA2s/jHrgasl9Tno/s320/IMG_0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479422650602151922" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAvsNGzlSSI/AAAAAAAAA4w/KTdtn31Pt-U/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAvsNGzlSSI/AAAAAAAAA4w/KTdtn31Pt-U/s320/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479733081535760674" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4hIuBkLI/AAAAAAAAA5w/Fj9yFsrOAxE/s1600/IMG_0043.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv4hIuBkLI/AAAAAAAAA5w/Fj9yFsrOAxE/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479746619786236082" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We even brought a ladder, knowing that we'd probably have something to hang high. Except that I got the tree shawl stuck on a branch, and couldn't straighten it out of it's lop-sided drape. Terri tried too, with help from her yarnfriends, but it was very definitely stuck. We all finally agreed that it looked best lopsided.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv3v2xzLXI/AAAAAAAAA5g/eLFgo1bDWos/s1600/IMG_0070.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv3v2xzLXI/AAAAAAAAA5g/eLFgo1bDWos/s320/IMG_0070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479745773156642162" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR4Etv0GI/AAAAAAAAA20/OmnYTZsJGpk/s1600/IMG_0071.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 599px; height: 435px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR4Etv0GI/AAAAAAAAA20/OmnYTZsJGpk/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479422657918128226" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When we finished, we snagged a passerby and asked that he take our photo in front of the beautiful children. Nice guy - snapped our shot, and didn't even ask why we wanted a photo of us in an empty fountain with yarned-up children statues. Call us crazy, but by the end of our adventure, we were beaming.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR4tkb5zI/AAAAAAAAA28/Z3VKFlDdLqQ/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 657px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TArR4tkb5zI/AAAAAAAAA28/Z3VKFlDdLqQ/s320/IMG_0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479422668884928306" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Before we left, we noticed folks walking up to our yarn art and reading the tags. That <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>made us smile. Even if he was carrying a beer bottle.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv1GYqkJMI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/-rSff7QeZrY/s1600/IMG_0129.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 523px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAv1GYqkJMI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/-rSff7QeZrY/s320/IMG_0129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479742861675340994" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br />But best of all was this hand-written note that Sheila left on one of her felted tree ornaments.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriLmWAWpI/AAAAAAAAA3E/j667rxerrXc/s1600/IMG_0141.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 435px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/TAriLmWAWpI/AAAAAAAAA3E/j667rxerrXc/s320/IMG_0141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440585548913298" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /></div>Yes, it was a good day for friends and laughter, and most of all - we are now officially GUERILLA KNITTERS!beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-37380899797172617912009-11-22T21:17:00.008-05:002009-11-23T13:59:59.554-05:00Kalamazoo Antiques Show<span style="text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It's been quite a while since I've attended an antiques show, and even longer since I exhibited at one. Although I doubt I'm going back to actually doing</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> shows as an exhibitor, it sure was fun to wander </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">and catch up with old friends at this show.<br /></span></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">There was a full house of dealers, 65 total </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">to be exact</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">. A</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">nd Promoter Linda Cross had a waiting list. Here in Michigan, the antiques business is slowly coming back from it's stagnant state of the past few years, and more and more dealers are willing to do shows.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This two day show showed a strong attendance in the first few hours, and people were buying. Small antiques is what they were interested in. They weren't spending big money, but they didn't need to - there were many antiques and collectibles available at this show for super-reasonable prices.<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Like the ones below:</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn2C7ubuVI/AAAAAAAAAsA/sWLrwUwANCE/s1600/4+Bullard+-+Rsvl+vase.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn2C7ubuVI/AAAAAAAAAsA/sWLrwUwANCE/s320/4+Bullard+-+Rsvl+vase.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407123357887609170" border="0" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This is a 1940s Roseville Snowberry vase, only $50. The dealer selling it didn't even know what the pattern was.<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn2e5XAwVI/AAAAAAAAAsI/7pNmFOpQcTU/s1600/11+Miller+-+sidebd.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn2e5XAwVI/AAAAAAAAAsI/7pNmFOpQcTU/s320/11+Miller+-+sidebd.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407123838288838994" border="0" /></a>Antique furniture doesn't show up at Michigan shows as much as it used to, mostly because it hasn't been selling. But there were a few dealers at this show who bravely brought furniture. The quarter-sawn oak sideboard above was beautifully refinished, and a steal at $495. Something comparable in contemporary furniture at the same quality level would be three times the price.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn3ayP980I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/E5WzTC2lSns/s1600/17+Carlson+-+dining+set.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Swn3ayP980I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/E5WzTC2lSns/s320/17+Carlson+-+dining+set.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407124867172397890" border="0" /></a></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For those who love the 1950s, this five piece bold yellow dining set was a fabulous buy at only $275. Let's see - that would be less than $60 per piece. Try to find THAT at a local furniture store. It got a lot of attention, yet it was still on the floor and available when I left the show.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were many more good buys, like the Royal Doulton set of four dinner plates in the classic Indian Tree pattern for only $10 each. And there was lots and lots of really fun costume jewelry for under $20 - perfect for gift giving. I was able to buy a few items for my <a href="http://www.rubylane.com/shops/redmoonantiques">Red Moon Antiques shop</a>, and will be posting them next week. But overall, this was a great place to shop, whether you are looking for Christmas gifts or buying for resale. I had a blast, and it was good to see old friends again.<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If you are shopping for something different for Christmas gifts, don't pass up your local antiques show - you'll be pleasantly surprised at what you'll find, both for yourself and for loved ones. Remember - buying an antique means you are recycling!<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></p>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-25195594749529138132009-10-15T10:40:00.007-05:002009-10-15T19:45:30.434-05:00The Prayer ShawlA few months ago, I finally managed to get to one of my knit group's get-togethers. My attendance this past summer had been sporadic, mostly because I wasn't willing to leave Tom alone for more than a couple hours.<br /><br />But he was having a good day, and he encouraged me to go. The group was having a going away party for Mary Adrian, who had just taken a great job in another state.<br /><br />When I arrived, I was quite surprised when all the gals gathered around me and handed me a gift bag. Inside was a beautiful blue prayer shawl. It's tradition in this group to group-knit a prayer shawl for any member having a rough spot in their life, and the ladies each took turns lovingly knitting on my shawl and saying a prayer for me at the same time. I was overcome by their generosity and compassion. Lots and lots of tears. It meant so much.<br /><br />The photo below shows the members of the group at the going-away party. Several who actually knitted on my shawl weren't able to attend that day. I am thankful for such wonderful, caring friends. That's the party girl Mary Adrian front-left, and me in my beautiful shawl on the right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdG7F94N1I/AAAAAAAAAo4/MxbPlnUn4IU/s1600-h/IMG_4710.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 193px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdG7F94N1I/AAAAAAAAAo4/MxbPlnUn4IU/s320/IMG_4710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392857059827398482" border="0" /></a>I took the shawl home and showed it to Tom. I was in tears again; the emotions that shawl released were overwhelming. He understood - and gave me a huge hug. I wrapped that shawl around both of us, and we just sat there holding on to each other for a long, long time.<br /><br />These past months I wore the shawl when I was feeling down. Our journey became increasingly rough, and I would wear it even when it was way too hot to wear a shawl. It was very calming to me, mostly because I knew how much love was being shared when it was being made.<br /><br />When we went to Ann Arbor in early September, I didn't take it with me. After all, we were just going for a quick consultation with a pain specialist - I had no idea that Tom would be admitted to the hospital, and that we wouldn't be returning home that day.<br /><br />After two weeks in the hospital, I managed to get back home for a few hours of bill-paying, paperwork catch-up and cat checking. I saw the shawl as I was walking out the door to return to Ann Arbor, and threw it over my shoulder. I can't explain why I did that. Somehow it just seemed like it was necessary. At that moment, I had no idea that Tom wouldn't be coming home.<br /><br />Two weeks later, I was holding Tom's hand when I realized that he needed my prayer shawl. I tucked him in it as he was sleeping. I knew it was going to be his last weekend on this earth, and felt much better sharing my comforting, prayer-loaded shawl with the most important person in my life. He slept, with me holding his hand, surrounded by that beautiful shawl.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdC1B-UhEI/AAAAAAAAAoY/wmQZh6jv0D8/s1600-h/IMG_4927.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdC1B-UhEI/AAAAAAAAAoY/wmQZh6jv0D8/s320/IMG_4927.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392852557629785154" border="0" /></a><br />That weekend, his sons came up from Florida. He slept some of the time, resting some of the time with his eyes closed, but was awake frequently. He was fully aware that they were there with him, and although he wasn't able to talk much, he was able to communicate with them with hugs and hand motions.<br /><br />One of his sons brought a new photo of our youngest granddaughter, Shaylen, with her newly-discovered Mona Lisa smile. That last morning, I tucked the photo next to his hand, above the prayer shawl. Even though he was sleeping, he knew what I'd done. He squeezed my hand, showing me that he realized I was sharing with him things which are important to us - friendship, love and family.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdCmnS22EI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/OIyu3IsZi4M/s1600-h/IMG_4937.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/StdCmnS22EI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/OIyu3IsZi4M/s320/IMG_4937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392852309949995074" border="0" /></a>I miss him. He's in my heart, every moment. But it's sure not the same as having him sit with me on the sofa. I'm okay with his leaving, but I wish with all my heart that he was still here. That he was able to squeeze my hand so strongly just moments before he died was a special, one-of-a-kind gift - it meant he knew where he was going, and he was saying goodbye.<br /><br />I love you, Thomas.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-72954185471201553352009-10-12T19:38:00.004-05:002009-10-12T20:16:57.838-05:00Scream Therapy??Well, I gave it my best shot. I tried scream therapy, thinking that some extreme-loudness while in the shower would make me feel better.<br /><br />The first scream was less than impressive - since I haven't done much screaming in my life, I'm just not very good at it. It was sort of squeaky, and my volume wasn't anything to be proud of. I still had lots of hot water left, so I gave it another go. Absolutely pathetic. Maybe I'm not doing it right (there's a "right" way to scream???), but I sounded like one of my cats when I accidentally step on her tail. More tries, sounding worse than better, and I suddenly thought about what Tom must be thinking: "The woman's gone completely nuts. Who screams in the shower??" Tom used to sing, badly, in the shower.<br /><br />That thought brought a big smile. He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But it was a good memory. Maybe scream therapy isn't going to work in the traditional sense, but since it brought me a small giggle and smile, I guess it's working backwards. That seems to be my story right now - so much of my life seems backwards since Tom died - so it must be okay to scream and then end up smiling at how stupid I must sound.<br /><br />I've been staying busy with "stuff." Mostly it's things I have-to-do - paperwork, phone calls, re-arranging our accounts, etc. My brother has been here for several days, and is helping me with chores around the house, plus errands that must be done. I'm still mostly operating on auto-pilot, but I'm sure looking forward to that time when I can do some want-to-do-things instead. Soon. Maybe. Right now, auto-pilot is keeping me going. That's okay.<br /><br />After reading Tom's obituary, several of you wrote me asking how you can donate in Tom's memory towards his Masonic Lodge, or how you can help with funeral expenses. Thank you for your kind offers. I'll leave the "Helping Tom" PayPal donate button up for another week for those who wish to help. If you could specify which is your preference - Tom's Masonic Lodge or funeral expenses - I'd appreciate it.<br /><br />Thanks for all your wonderful support. It's been a rough 18 months. After my stroke, Tom and I decided that God must have a plan. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Little did I know that God's plan was to have me take care of Tom while he battled cancer. This past year allowed me to find courage in the face of true adversity, and to love Tom even more than I thought possible. Sometimes, when you think you are dealing with the worse possible situation, you actually find out that good things can come out of bad. It definitely happened for us.<br /><br />And now, off to bed for me. There's an emergency candy bar waiting on my nightstand. Chocolate has become my new best friend.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-9742267885058895502009-10-09T18:25:00.005-05:002009-10-09T20:46:04.364-05:00A Good Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Ss_kOMOeuHI/AAAAAAAAAmc/_Pst97i7wYA/s1600-h/IMG_0141.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Ss_kOMOeuHI/AAAAAAAAAmc/_Pst97i7wYA/s320/IMG_0141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390778211437033586" border="0" /></a><br />We said goodbye to Tom today.<br /><br />So many good friends showed up at the Masonic hall. Tom's former co-workers, our old friends from law enforcement days, my knitting friends, our antiques dealer friends, Tom's fellow massage therapists, our neighbors, and so many of his Lodge brothers all came to honor him. Even our attorney was there.<br /><br />A large photo of Tom, centered in a huge wreath of woodland theme, was center stage. I'd love to show you a photo of that wreath - it was very "Tom". It was lovingly designed by one of his former windows clients, a floral shop he'd done business with for more than ten years. They knew him well and captured his woodsy character. I loved it. Masons aren't comfortable with cameras within their Lodge room, so no photo. But that really wasn't important - what <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> important was the beautiful celebration service the Masons presented their fellow brother. The thoughtful eulogy showed a strong emphasis on Tom's willingness to help others in need, as well as his dedication to the Masons. Through the tears, I couldn't help but smile - Tom did love to help others, and it was so comforting to me that he was recognized for that great trait.<br /><br />I hold close to my heart the special appearance by a long-time friend who never attends funerals. He just doesn't do funerals. Never. I've know this about him for 30 years, and never ever did I expect to see him walk in the door. That he would honor Tom and me with his presence was like a warm blanket around my soul - it meant so much.<br /><br />The spaghetti dinner made by the Masons, complete with dessert, was excellent. The portions were huge, leaving hardly any room for dessert. I wasn't very hungry, so I did it backwards - a lovely large piece of chocolate cake for an appetizer, then salad as my main course. Never got to the spaghetti - I just didn't have room. Well, that's what I told everyone. But really, my appetite just hasn't quite yet returned. It will soon. In the meantime, my scale is appreciative - I've lost eight pounds in the past three weeks. Positive things happen in strange ways.<br /><br />Surrounded by all that Tom-love from our friends was overwhelmingly wonderful. Lots of good tears, and plenty of smiles and laughter too. Only 90 minutes in all, from the beginning of the service until the end of lunch, but it's helping me heal. Sure, it's going to take time to find my place in this world again. But I carry Thomas everywhere with me, and that's my balance point.<br /><br />One more thing.<br /><br />Tom is still helping others. His corneas have been donated to two people who desperately need that special gift. Somewhere out there, there's pieces of Tom that will be giving sight for years to come.<br /><br />It was a good day.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-45334406858961477292009-10-07T10:35:00.007-05:002009-10-12T21:10:56.866-05:00Thomas Duane Pulsipher 1952-2009<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Ssy11DFMHQI/AAAAAAAAAmU/40VUe9XyLe4/s1600-h/IMG_2797.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Ssy11DFMHQI/AAAAAAAAAmU/40VUe9XyLe4/s320/IMG_2797.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389882777020407042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Thomas Duane <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pulsipher</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">August 29, 1952 - October 6, 2009</span><br /><br /><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Tom passed away softly, without pain, from esophageal cancer at U of M Hospital on Tuesday, October 6, with his wife Beth holding his hand. He was born August 29, 1952 and raised by parents Ada and Duane <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pulsipher</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Muskegon</span>, Michigan. He lived a full, happy life – over the years he was a Corrections Officer for the State of Michigan, a Motor Carrier Officer for the Michigan State Police, in grounds maintenance for the Kalamazoo Country Club, and also self-employed as a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fulltime</span> partner in his wife Beth's antiques business, as well as his own businesses in commercial window washing and as a Certified Massage Therapist. He was a hard-working man who was always willing to help others. Tom loved to travel, and made friends everywhere he went. His laughter was contagious, and he enjoyed friendships with people from all walks of life. His hard-fought battle with cancer lasted 12 months, and he proudly participated in successful trial studies that will help others in their own cancer fight. Besides his wife Beth, he leaves behind his sons of whom he was so proud - Shawn (Shannon) and Shane (Janette) of Florida, grandchildren James, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Skyla</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Shaylen</span>, mother Ada and sister Debbie (Bob) of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Muskegon</span>, and brother-in-law Andy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Chernecki</span> of Detroit. He was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">preceded</span> in death by his father, Duane. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Cremation has taken place. Services will be Friday, October 9, at 11 am at Kalamazoo County Masonic Center, 4371 West U Avenue, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Schoolcraft</span> (1/8 mile west of US 131). Please join us in celebrating Tom's life, and for a light lunch after the service. Arrangements provided by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Avink</span> Funeral Home Cremation Society (<a href="http://www.avinkcremation.com/" target="_blank">www.avinkcremation.com</a>), <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Schoolcraft</span>, and the Kalamazoo Anchor Lodge #22.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Memorial contributions can be made to the Kalamazoo Anchor Lodge #22 at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">KCMC</span>. He loved his Masonic brothers and all their good works; his family requests that you honor his memory by helping them help others.</p><br /></div>beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-80046963001533173002009-10-04T10:55:00.004-05:002009-10-04T11:44:07.702-05:00Tom's Final DaysWe're still at U of M hospital. It's been 24 days.<br /><br />Our plans of using hospice didn't work out. He needs more physical care than I can manage, meaning that at-home hospice wouldn't work. Both of the Kalamazoo area in-patient hospices were unable to take him. We will remain at U-M until the end.<br /><br />The hospital was finally able to find him a private room, which has made both of us much more comfortable. The staff even ordered him a special air bed from a local medical supply company - it's big and thick and soft, and he's enjoying it very much. They even arranged for meals to be brought for me, so much appreciated since the hospital patient food is so much better than the cafeteria.<br /><br />Tom's now on his final journey, and is resting comfortably with plenty of morphine to quell his body's disagreements. He sleeps a lot now, but occasionally wakes up to find me holding his hand and talking about whatever is on my mind at the moment. He hears me talk about family, friends, our cats, knitting, the great nurses we've been blessed with, the now-changing Fall colors outside our window, the U-M hospital helicopters that we see frequently through our big picture window. Most of the time he just rests with his eyes closed, sharing an occasional smile.<br /><br />Once in a while he still talks, though usually it doesn't make much sense to anyone but him. The other night he talked all night long, but most of it wasn't understandable. The morphine has clouded his words. I agreed with everything he said, just in case.<br /><br />He sees people in the corner of the room, and when he tells me who, it's someone I don't know. But I'm glad he has company visiting him. He told me he saw snow on the ceiling. He told me there were "little Emilies were all over the floor -<em> lots </em>of them!!" Turns out he was seeing little baby Emilies, dozens of them. We don't know any Emilies, adults or babies. But it gave me a smile.<br /><br />His humor is still strong. His night nurse - one of our favorites, a man who has truly connected with Tom these past weeks - came in the other night at the end of his shift:<br /><br />Bill, the night nurse: "Well, Tommy, I'm about done with this shift and just wanted to know if there's anything you need before I leave?"<br /><br />Tom: "Yeah . . . "<br /><br />Bill (patiently waiting, since it was taking Tom a few moments to get it out): "What can I get you, buddy?"<br /><br />Tom (with a huge grin): "A hooker!"<br /><br />I laughed so hard I was crying. Leave it to Tom to come up with such an unexpected, hilarious answer. After a moment of re-grouping, hysterically-laughing Bill the nurse said: "Tommy, you are one in a million!"<br /><br />That exchange made my day. And there's been other funny moments, as he meanders though his life's final path. The other day he was picking something imaginary off his blanket, then motioned that he wanted to place it in my hand. Holding my hand out, I watched him carefully place it in the center of my palm. I asked him what it was that I was holding for him, and with a look of digust (what was <em>wrong </em>with me - couldn't I SEE it??!!) he then loudly said "Butter knife!!!!!"<br /><br />Well, heck, I didn't know he was collecting imaginary butter knives . . . <br /><br />This all from a man who is completely comfortable with the concept of dying. He told me the other day that he's not afraid, and that he's looking forward to seeing loved ones who have gone before. We've talked about serious subjects, and laughed about silly ones too. We are okay.<br /><br />Even when he's sleeping, he hears me. He squeezes my hand sometimes. It's comforting to me, and I appreciate his attempts to connect even though lately he's not been able to say much.<br /><br />I've been staying at the hospital most of the time now, sleeping when I can in the big LazyBoy recliner the staff set up for me. Time is getting shorter for us, and I'm trying to be there with him as much as possible.<br /><br />His sons Shawn and Shane have flown up from Florida for the weekend, and have been here most of the time. Sometimes he's awake enough to recognize them. He's not talking much, but I can tell he really appreciates that they are here. Me too.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-42728630408701912072009-09-15T11:12:00.003-05:002009-09-15T11:37:49.685-05:00Tom's in the Hospital, but it's okay . . .It's been so long since I posted here. I've really missed writing. But life is giving us lots of ups and downs, and I've not been able to write.<br /><br />Tom is holding his own. After suffering from intense back pain, he went in last week for a pain consult. That's where we learned that his spine cancer has moved into five vertebrae, causing him agony. Walking more than a dozen steps was impossible. We knew he had some cancer in his spine, but it's grown considerably.<br /><br />During the pain consult the surgeon, realizing that Tom was in such dire need for pain relief, switched his next day's surgery schedule around, making Tom his first surgical patient of the day. U of M docs are so wonderful! He felt he could help Tom; late that same night he was reviewing Tom's MRIs, and called us around 9 pm at the hotel to confirm that Tom was scheduled the very next morning.<br /><br />Unfortunately, when Tom arrived at 6 am they discovered that his breathing was so impaired that they couldn't do the surgery. Instead they tapped his lung to allow his lung to expand, and then scheduled him for the pain surgery the next day. That required that the surgeon <em>again</em> re-arrange his schedule, but he did and Tom received the surgery.<br /><br />This special pain surgery is so really cool it's almost unbelievable. Cancer had eaten away at the interior of four of his vertebrae (the fifth showed only the very slightest signs of cancer), so what the surgeon did was inject four of them with cement. It's the same cement used for hip and knee replacements, and it fills in the void where the cancer is, thereby strengthing the vertebrae. It's not a fusion - his spine is as flexible as ever, and he bends and moves much better now, with little or no pain. But this cement also has an element of heat to it, and apparently kills off the painful nerve endings that were so debilitating. It's four days after surgery, and he can walk again.<br /><br />Except for the breathing issues . . .<br /><br />Tom isn't out of the hospital yet. We've been here eight days while they try to help him with his lung problems. The sac around his lung keeps filling with fluid, and he's been tapped three times to lessened his discomfort. He says it's like having a tie-down strap cranked as tightly as possible on his chest. He's been on oxygen since he was admitted. He can't walk to the bathroom without being out of breath.<br /><br />Right now we're waiting for the options the thoracic surgery team can offer. They've evaluated him, late last night (U of M doctors work around the clock, apparently), and we're soon to find out the results. In the meantime, he's resting comfortably, and I'm knitting constantly . . .<br /><br />Thank you for all your prayers. God does listen, and all your prayers count. May you receive back all the wonderful good wishes you have sent our way.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-68678191959151497452009-08-08T20:35:00.011-05:002009-08-08T21:36:35.155-05:00Good Times in FloridaAfter Tom's doctor suggested that he take a break from chemo again, we decided to take advantage of the time and go to Florida to see his sons and their families. It's been more than two years, and we now have three grandbabies to catch up with.<br /><br />We rented a lovely house on a lake near New Port Richey, and arranged for plane tickets and a rental car. The trip down was tough on Tom, but we expected that and planned for a nice, relaxing two week trip just to allow for fatigue. By the second day, he was raring to go - and every day after that we spent with family.<img src="file:///C:/Users/Beth/Pictures/Florida%20Family%20July%202009/IMG_4602.JPG" alt="" /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4vxrN-LhI/AAAAAAAAAj8/sgkFE0sHTmE/s1600-h/IMG_4602.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4vxrN-LhI/AAAAAAAAAj8/sgkFE0sHTmE/s320/IMG_4602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367780336333630994" border="0" /></a> Tom holding his granddaughters Skyla, age 28 months, and Shaylen, 8 months, with son Shawn and daughter-in-law Shannon and a very damp, overheated me. (Why is it that I'm the <span style="font-style: italic;">only</span> one that doesn't look cool???)<br /><br />What we didn't do was spend much time outside. Typically, Florida in July and August means the temps are brutal - every day was consistently in the 100 degree heat index range. At night, it only got down to around a very humid 80 degrees - that's really hell for Michiganders like us, who are used to summer nights in the low sixties or even the fifties. Thankfully, the house was air conditioned, and we were comfortable.<br /><br />Seeing Tom's sons, our daughters-in-laws and our two granddaughters and grandson was heaven. Babies grow so quickly, and our grandkids are now nearly three, 2 1/2 and 8 months. I met two of them for the very first time. Here I am with Skyla, who had stolen her baby sister's pink hat I'd knitted.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rRk7_XaI/AAAAAAAAAjM/w2q69VSvIwY/s1600-h/IMG_4699.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rRk7_XaI/AAAAAAAAAjM/w2q69VSvIwY/s320/IMG_4699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367775386845273506" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'd taken plenty of knitting along to Florida. Not only did I have charity socks to finish, but I brought along enough yarn to make a baby blanket and a white baby hat with ears. I'd already packed the pink hat I'd made for Shaylen, but also a purple bunny that I'd knit for Skyla.<br /><br />Guess I went on knit-overload, but it surely made me feel good. During the two weeks, I finished the socks, the baby blanket and the white ears hat. Skyla loves her bunny, but Shaylen isn't quite so sure about the hat with the ears.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rR20xg9I/AAAAAAAAAjc/jn9ubo6X7f8/s1600-h/IMG_4551.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rR20xg9I/AAAAAAAAAjc/jn9ubo6X7f8/s320/IMG_4551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367775391646843858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4t-lWlgaI/AAAAAAAAAjk/MEeN6_j3vJI/s1600-h/IMG_4691.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 258px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4t-lWlgaI/AAAAAAAAAjk/MEeN6_j3vJI/s320/IMG_4691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367778359074193826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's Tom with his son Shawn and baby Shaylen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rR7BeLbI/AAAAAAAAAjU/ciZyHE13q04/s1600-h/IMG_4578.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sn4rR7BeLbI/AAAAAAAAAjU/ciZyHE13q04/s320/IMG_4578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367775392773844402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Tom was exhausted but happy every night. The two weeks went way too fast. We just got back two days ago, and we're both slowly getting back to the routine of life. Very slowly. Two weeks from now we go back to the doctor to evaluate what the next step is. In the meantime, we're making the best of every day we have. Above all, Love prevails.<br /><br />Taking a break from chemo has been good for Tom. His brain fog has lessened considerably, and he hasn't fallen in several weeks.<br /><br />Thank you all for your positive thoughts, your prayers, and your support. We've had a difficult road, and you have made it so much better for us. God bless.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Beth/Pictures/Florida%20Family%20July%202009/IMG_4602.JPG" alt="" />beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-59271153257987294632009-07-20T20:36:00.003-05:002009-07-20T21:03:33.415-05:00U of Michigan Hospital - Our Temporary Home Last WeekWe had a difficult week last week, but we are adjusting.<br /><br />After Tom's un-stroke on Sunday, we went for his scheduled chemo on Tuesday. After learning about his trip to the ER, his oncologist felt she wanted to know why he has had brain problems, physical weakness and walking instability, so she postponed chemo in favor of a referral to one of U-Michigan's neurologists.<br /><br />She's good at getting appointments - inside of two hours, we were sitting in the neurologist's exam room. After a battery of physical tests and questions, the neurologist recommended that Tom have further testing. If we wanted to do it on an out-patient basis, it would probably take a couple of weeks to schedule.<br /><br />Or . . . she offered to admit Tom immediately to the hospital, guaranteeing him all the tests he needed within the next day or so. Well, heck, we were already there, and Tom wanted to get it over with, so he was admitted and scheduled for tests.<br /><br />By Tuesday noon, he was in his hospital room, and within two hours he was off to get an EEG (I think that's what it's called - anyways, a brain scan). The next test was an MRI, which came at 5:30 am Wednesday. Tom hates MRIs. But he managed to get through it, all that pounding noise giving him a headache, and was fairly chipper by the time I showed up Wednesday morning.<br /><br />By early Wednesday afternoon, they performed a spinal tap. In his room. And I was allowed to stay with him. Actually, I should describe it as spinal taps - because the first one they attempted didn't take. More neurologists and nurses were called in, plus more morphine, until they were able to make the second spinal tap work. What is supposed to be a less-than-one-hour procedure took more than 2 1/2 hours, and a whole lot of morphine and local anesthetic. Tom needed to be awake during the tap, which is difficult since this procedure is so terribly painful. He toughed it out, and when it was done, was even able to laugh a bit with his comedian-neurologist.<br /><br />Afterwards, he didn't remember the pain. The brain definitely knows how to block bad situations, and he'd completely forgotten the intense pain he'd endured.<br /><br />By Thursday, he was released. None of the possible problems they were searching for were found. That's the very good news. Prayer works.<br /><br />However, that means we are back to Square One. No one can explain why he's stumbling and falling, nor why his brain is sometimes - but not always - so foggy he can't talk more than one word at a time, comprehend questions, add simple numbers, and why he shows Parkinson's-like symptoms. The only possible explanation they've offered is that he possibly has "chemo brain", which may or may not clear up on it's own. There apparently is no treatment for chemo brain.<br /><br />Tom's oncologist has suggested that he take a few weeks off from chemo, hoping that he will strengthen physically, and that his brain will return to normal. Since last week's hospitalization, he's only been noticeably wobbly once, but hasn't fallen. His brain is still foggy off and on, and we're not seeing any major improvement yet.<br /><br />We are staying strong. Time will be our friend. He's had eight grueling chemo treatments; his brain needs a vacation.<br /><br />Thank you all for your prayers. God does listen.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-41493148398864174372009-07-13T12:45:00.003-05:002009-07-13T13:57:59.618-05:00Tom, the Ambulance GuyLately, Tom's been struggling with brain fog. It comes and goes, sometimes severe and sometimes just minimal. Then there's times when all is working, and our life seems normal. Well, Tom-Pulsipher-normal. It doesn't seem like anything we do these days is normal compared to most other people.<br /><br />Around 4 am yesterday morning, Tom returned from trip to the bathroom, but didn't quite make it to bed. He became dizzy (not an unusual occurrence), and before he had a chance to steady himself his legs buckled and he fell.<br /><br />He landed on his back, and was in quite a bit of pain, so I gave him a couple of pain pills. He told me he didn't hit his head, and just his back hurt. Eventually, he was able to get up on his own power, and then into bed.<br /><br />I hadn't gone to sleep yet that night - can't really explain why. Just wasn't sleepy, I guess. But an hour later, in the dark I heard noise from Tom, not really words but sounds that I couldn't interpret. Turning on the light, I found him dazed and confused. He didn't know who I was. When I asked him questions, he couldn't answer - he was unable to speak anything other than one-syllable sounds.<br /><br />Fearing that he'd had a stroke, I spent a few minutes determining what the next step was. Because of my own experience stroking just a year ago, all of it came back to me. It was surreal, all those not-so-fond memories of that day rushing back, but since decisions had to be made quickly, it was something I just had to deal with.<br /><br />Asking him to squeeze my hands produced only mild strength from him, not the usual strong grip he has. He didn't understand my questions asking him to smile, or tell me what today's date was. Nothing was processing in his brain, yet he kept trying to get out of bed and I was having a difficult time convincing him he needed to stay there. Try getting dressed, finding the phone, and keeping a determined man in bed when he didn't want to be - guess I should take a course in juggling.<br /><br />The cell phone was closest, and I called 911. They sent both the local fire department and an ambulance. Before long, there were six burly guys standing in our bedroom, trying to help Tom. Eight people in our bedroom was a whole lot of people. But around here, when you call for help, the best people in the world come running - and I am so thankful they came.<br /><br />His condition hadn't changed any - still confused, unable to speak, not responding to questions. A quick check of his blood sugar proved to be normal. He couldn't comprehend why all those strangers were in his bedroom at 5:30 in the morning, and I had the feeling that he didn't want to have anything to do with them.<br /><br />Quickly it was determined that Tom needed a trip to the hospital, and that he would have to be carried downstairs in a special chair paramedics use when the regular gurney won't work. It took nearly 20 minutes for us to convince him that he needed to sit in that darned chair; he didn't want to go anywhere, and definitely didn't want to go to some unknown place with strangers. But eventually he did, and off we went.<br /><br />We were all convinced that Tom had suffered a stroke. The ER doctors immediately ordered a CT scan. Tom was still not able to speak, until the nurses tried to take blood samples and hook up an IV. Suddenly, the language skills kicked in, but unfortunately, the wrong language - he told off those poor nurses in no uncertain terms with words he never uses. He was so angry I thought for a moment he might take a swing at the nurse inserting the IV, but I was able to distract him enough that he calmed down.<br /><br />He definitely did not want blood drawn, and he most certainly did not want to be hooked up to an IV. It was sort of a good news/bad news kind of moment - good that he was talking again, but bad news because sudden change and drastic of demeanor can indicate bleeding in the frontal portion of the brain.<br /><br />But more good news (thank you, Lord!): the CT scan showed no bleeding, and no signs of stroke.<br />Alas, it gave no clue as to what was going on with Tom's brain.<br /><br />But as the hours ticked by - and when you are sitting in an ER exam room, they tick by very, very slowwwwly - Tom began talking again, could answer some but not all questions, and his anger disappeared. After consulting both the ER doctor and the ER chief, we mutually decided that Tom could go home. Initially, they believed that he should be admitted, but after seeing him improve, they decided there wasn't much they could do for him other than to observe him, and I'm already pretty good at doing that . . .<br /><br />So today we are saying prayers for the positive results, and thanking God that it wasn't a stroke. Today, he doesn't remember anything about yesterday other than the ambulance ride. (That figures - he used be a volunteer driver for the local ambulance service.) But he's home, a bit brain-foggy today, but not bad. And he's stroke-less. Good news comes in strange ways.beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-25127109163229649362009-07-09T14:00:00.000-05:002009-07-09T13:54:54.057-05:00Chocolatea - Knitting with Chocolate is Good, Spinning is BetterAfter a very successful Knit-in-Public event a couple weeks ago at the local chocolate/tea cafe "Chocolatea" (hence their name) - we had more than 40 knitters/crocheters attend, beyond my wildest dreams - we decided to do it again.<br /><br />Chocolatea is a specialty shop from heaven if you happen to like tea - they have more than 140 choices. Or if you like chocolate, or coffee, or fancy desserts. It's fairly new in town, so the curiosity factor brought out many of the K-i-P knitters. There aren't a whole lot of non-yarn shop knit-in-publics during evening hours, and since evening hours tend to be slow in many cafes, it's a perfect place to plunk down and enjoy a few hours of gabby knitting.<br /><br />Or, in my case, spinning.<br /><br />What's spinning, you ask? It's not the bicycle kind of spinning. This kind of spinning is what you do when you want to turn fleece into yarn. Some people do it with a spinning wheel, but some like to use a drop spindle - it's much more portable.<br /><br />Shannon, of <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5177027&page=1&section_id=&order=">SpinSanity</a> on Etsy, had joined us at Chocolatea, and brought some of her drop spindles. After watching her for a few moments, I asked if she would show me how. She had me spinning in under five minutes!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/SkVonMSWlxI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A-W6cK_obqw/s1600-h/IMG_4326.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 249px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/SkVonMSWlxI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A-W6cK_obqw/s320/IMG_4326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351798754722092818" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><br />>>> I'm sorta getting it . . . but have a long, long way to go before this stuff looks like yarn! (photo by Karen Lason) >>></span><br /><br />Ummmm . . . well, maybe I should describe it as "attempted" spinning. But I had fun learning, so Shannon loaned me a spindle and gave me some wool to play with. I'm still messing with it, but now I have my very own customized spindle from Shannon. Shannon makes them to order, and also has ready-to-go spindles that can be ordered from her Etsy shop. They're all finely painted, signed and dated, and she carefully hand finishes each one. She'll even toss in a bit of fiber with your order to get you started.<br /><br />She loves to make special spindles, and you can see some of them on her shop blog -<a href="http://spinsanityspindles.blogspot.com/"> spinsanityspindles.blogspot.com</a>. Or, you can describe in an email to her what you'd like, and she'll give it a whirl (okay, so pun intended . . .)beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-47942626920943222212009-06-20T18:37:00.015-05:002009-06-20T20:54:25.575-05:00World Wide Knit in Public Days X 2From a knitting standpoint, it's been a busy week. About a month ago I decided to become involved with the project <a href="http://www.wwkipday.com/">World Wide Knit in Public</a> days. It sounded like a lot of fun, and since I truly enjoy organizing things, it was just the right thing for me to b<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Cywm9lHI/AAAAAAAAAd8/L63I09vVl1g/s1600-h/IMG_4288.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Cywm9lHI/AAAAAAAAAd8/L63I09vVl1g/s320/IMG_4288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349575740939408498" border="0" /></a>e involved in. Good distractions like this can keep one sane.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> Our official sign, which I dumbly left at The Coffee Bar today and will have to return (oh darn . . . Heilman's chocolates . . . ) to pick up. >>></span><br /><br />Before long, fellow knitter Mary Adrian Gunkel joined me in working on local KiPs. Soon we were able to secure many door prizes from four different yarn shops - some local, and some 30 to 60 miles away. Most yarn shop owners recognize that a serious knitter will travel a distance to find the kind of yarn she's searching for, so we were really pleased to hav<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2E1ONgj1I/AAAAAAAAAeU/wN9DEc_Ml_w/s1600-h/IMG_4282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2E1ONgj1I/AAAAAAAAAeU/wN9DEc_Ml_w/s320/IMG_4282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349577982268706642" border="0" /></a>e excellent door prizes donated from shops near and far.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> Outdoors on the deck at Chocolatea, a table full of door prizes >>></span><br /><br />Door prizes included gift certificates, yarn, books, needles and patterns, plus each of the cafe locations donated food gifts too. It was a wonderful way to introduce local knitters to several different yarn shops. Each shop had minimal investment in their donations but hopefully will have strong returns when these knitters (and their friends) visit these shops. At both KiP events, I overheard several gals comparing notes on the different yarn shops, and all shared very positive information.<br /><br />The first KiP was held at Chocolatea, in Portage, Michigan last Sunday. Chocolatea - as you can probably guess from it's name - is a new cafe specializing in a variety of specialty coffees and teas, as well as first class chocolates by the piece or the pound. They have a beautiful outside deck that overlooks Portage Creek, a silent gem of a trout stream.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2DP6oWw1I/AAAAAAAAAeE/q2NXQtESJ5s/s1600-h/IMG_4296.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2DP6oWw1I/AAAAAAAAAeE/q2NXQtESJ5s/s320/IMG_4296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349576241845814098" border="0" /></a><br />That morning, the local paper had published an interview with me about the two KiPs, and it resulted in a crowd showing up - more than 40 knitters and crocheters of all ages! They arrived before the KiP actually began, and were still coming in after it officially ended. Not to worry - the Chocolatea staff was very happy to have our group stay later. We packed that deck with people (yes, we had four men knitters join in) and the group overflowed into the main portion of the cafe. It was a perfect weather day, partly sunny skies and 75 degrees; fortunately several brought their own lawn chairs, and we squashed together on the deck. The owner later said that was the most people who have used her deck since she opened.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> Jane and her son Alex, knitting away . . . > > ></span><br /><br />One of the WWKiP goals is to promote the fun of knitting, and the knitters attending this event helped three newbies begin their first stitches or learn a new technique. Another goal is to support local businesses, and we were able to promote both the four local yarn shops plus the two cafes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2D2XbO6_I/AAAAAAAAAeM/7b3gUSkj42Y/s1600-h/IMG_4291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2D2XbO6_I/AAAAAAAAAeM/7b3gUSkj42Y/s320/IMG_4291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349576902410431474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> The Chocolatea deck, overlooking Portage Creek . . . > > ></span><br /><br />We certainly made the owner of Chocolatea happy - we kept her staff very busy with orders for three hours. The owner showed her knitter-appreciation by setting dishes of free chocolates on every table. It was a very good marketing plan and we eagerly took advantage. She even showed us her interpretation of chocolate knitting - a single round ball of chocolate and two long sticks of chocolate, representing a ball of yarn with needles. (Sorry - no photo of that. The photographer ate them.)<br /><br />Then on to the next KiP weekend - today was our second event, held at The Coffee Bar in Oshtemo, Michigan. Great food and good knit friends made for an excellent day. It was another good turnout - 30 people came, some returning from the previous event, and some attending for the first time. I was so pleasan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Gcst3h0I/AAAAAAAAAec/wSbA1rAbdnI/s1600-h/IMG_4306.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Gcst3h0I/AAAAAAAAAec/wSbA1rAbdnI/s320/IMG_4306.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349579759984019266" border="0" /></a>tly surprised to find a friend who'd seen the newspaper article and came to specifically to see me - we haven't seen each other in many years. So good to see you, Myra!!!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> Instructor Kay and a new knitter . . . oh crap, I'm not supposed to tell anyone she's an instructor . . . but she's really good at it. > > ></span><br /><br />We did show-and-tell knitting at both events, and we displayed business cards from the donating LYS (Local Yarn Shops), maps to help knitters find those shops (courtesy of Mary Adrian, the mapmaker!), plus free patterns too (thank you Ideal Images, Kalamazoo).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Kpu9FyvI/AAAAAAAAAek/DRI0X00D9uk/s1600-h/IMG_4311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2Kpu9FyvI/AAAAAAAAAek/DRI0X00D9uk/s320/IMG_4311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349584381969550066" border="0" /></a><br />We also placed a sign-up sheet for new knit groups for both Chocolatea and The Coffee Bar - mid-week evenings once a month. Both cafes have invited us back! Guess that means we pretty much behaved ourselves (though I remember quite a bit of raucous laughter throughout both events) . . .<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">>>> Karen with her door prize - a sock yarn kit from Stitching Memories . . . > > ></span><br /><br />Thanks to all who came. I had a blast. Especially, thanks to those of you who offered positive feedback. I'm in process of firming up the once-a-month details for both Chocolatea and The Coffee Bar. If you left your email address on your door prize ticket, I'll be sending you the knit night info when it's available.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">> > > and the final word: </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Live to Knit!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> Paula had this henna-ed on her arm, which will last a few more weeks. Go Paula!! > >></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2LtTD_O7I/AAAAAAAAAes/Kru2dEn3JUM/s1600-h/IMG_4314.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tsNQ1abjSZ4/Sj2LtTD_O7I/AAAAAAAAAes/Kru2dEn3JUM/s320/IMG_4314.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349585542713392050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Local Yarn Shops involved:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stitching Memories, Portage</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ideal Images, Kalamazoo</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Your Local Yarn Shop, Battle Creek</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Threadbear Fiber Arts Studio, Lansing</span><br /><br />If you won a door prize from these shops, please tell them how much you appreciate their generosity. A quick note would be nice, but a visit and purchase from them would be even nicer. Support these shops - they sure can make us happy, can't they???beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538664.post-26440937906980781402009-06-16T18:51:00.003-05:002009-06-16T19:42:35.433-05:00Change is GoodThe past three weeks have gone by so quickly. We had several downs, with some ups mixed in. But we're staying strong.<br /><br />The bad news: Tom's latest CT scans are showing increased tumor activity in his lungs. The good news: they are very small, and not obstructing his airways in any way.<br /><br />With new tumors, that means that the trial chemo is no longer working. But there's good news there too - the trial chemo attacked the cancer in his liver, with those tumors knocked down by more than 80% over the past six treatments. Now they're just tiny little buggers, not nearly so scary as they had been. His doctor is quite pleased with this, and reminded us that the liver cancer was the most life-threatening, so she feels he's made major progress.<br /><br />Since the trial chemo has done it's job, Tom's doctor has taken him off the trial and has now switched him to a different chemo therapy that specifically targets lung cancers. One of the things we've been very happy about with the U of Michigan staff is that they are quick to move in a different, positive direction when it's necessary.<br /><br />At first Tom was quite disappointed to be taken off the trial chemo study. But when he learned that the next rounds of chemo will specifically work on his lung cancers (the other cancers appear stable right now), he realized that he was getting excellent care and that it's definitely in his best interests to move forward with the next set of drugs. We're keeping our fingers crossed, since this pairing of chemo drugs has worked well for others.<br /><br />He had his first treatment today, and will repeat it in two weeks. It went well - so far - and we'll wait to see if he has any side effects from these different drugs.<br /><br />He'd taken a five week break from chemo to let his body become stronger, which initially was a good plan. The idea was to give his body a break from all that toxic treatment, and allow him to gain some weight.<br /><br />Unfortunately, he had a severe drug reaction to two prescription drugs he'd been taking for chemo side effects. These caused him to have zombie-like symptoms to the point where his brain just wasn't working at all - his conversation was non-existent (I should have video'd this, since anyone who knows Tom knows he can't be quiet for more than 30 seconds). He was showing Parkinson-like tremors, and he was having a difficult time mentally processing even basic information. His doctor took him off the offending drugs, but <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> caused him three straight days of severe nausea. Oops - a side effect of the side-effect drugs! Finally, it's been resolved by finding a new drug to replace the two he can't take, and he's been feeling a bit better these past few days.<br /><br />He's also been sleeping a lot, which is always worrisome to me just because he can't eat when he's sleeping, and one of my major goals is to stuff him full of good food. Or even not-good food. I actually smile when I now see him eating a Whopper. He's actually eating meat! And if eating meat means it's a Whopper, I don't care. It meets our criteria - high calories and protein - and it makes him gain weight. The more weight he can recoup, the stronger he'll be in his fight against cancer.<br /><br />But right now he needs rest more than anything else, so it's time for me to let up on the feeding frenzy. That made him quite happy - no more stuffing-of-Tom for a few days. Today's weigh-in at the doctor's office was a nice surprise - even though he couldn't eat for five days last week, he only lost a half-pound of weight, much better than we expected. So Tom gets a temporary food-reprieve, at least until I find a new recipe that I want him to guinea-pig for me . . .beth pulsipherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10819255358961364716noreply@blogger.com1