a smaller life

the twelfth list of Very Good Things

  

   

Another list of Very Good Things. Broken out in flickr, here. (Apologies for a cut and paste link- I'm typing from my phone, and I'm not sure if this app accepts HTML.)

For those who haven't heard, Sam is in the hospital again. He's been in Hopkins since Sunday, when he suffered a cerebral vein thrombosis. It is his third- the first two showed up in 2006. He had been chipping away at those clots for 4 years with a blood thinner called Coumadin, and last month a vascular Neuro gave him a clean bill of health and took him off of the blood thinners. The chance of recurrence in someone of good health with no clotting disorders was virtually nil, he said.

I don't know what the word for someone who has the luck to be that .1% is, but we're it. I think the word is unlucky, actually. Hell.

It is harder today to focus on what is good, although they do tend to stand in stark contrast against everything else right now. Still, it isn't all bad; they doctors and nurses are kind, the prognosis is thus far pretty good, and the outpouring of support and well- wishes has been wonderful.

For those who have asked where to send cards- and thank you, so much, thinking of us- here is the address.

Johns Hopkins Bayview

Samuel Taylor, patient

Neurology critical care unit, 677A

4940 Eastern Ave

Baltimore, MD 21224- 2780

 

Be well, all. 

Monday's list of very good things, even better

 

Broken out here, as ever. Holding the page down is my new flask. I wish you could see it better- it has a giant squid on it. A giant squid! Giant! Squid! You can see another like it here. I love it.

Speaking of love: Sam and I went to meet with his vascular neurologist this afternoon. We've been waiting for this appointment for about four years now, I think. It's an immense relief to be able to say that finally, finally, finally, he has a clean bill of health. The doctors have declared him healthy- no more clot, no major vascular or clotting disorders, and no more Coumadin.

That's all I really have to say, today: the best thing that has happened in 4 years happened today.

 

Haitian Relief Auction

"My own experience and development deepen everyday my conviction that our moral progress may be measured by the degree in which we sympathize with individual suffering and individual joy." -George Eliot

Haiti's recent misfortunes are hard to write about; how do you even begin to get a mental grip on suffering at such a scale? It's mind- boggling. In case you've missed the news this week, Haiti has been hit by a series of terrible earthquakes which have devastated the nation. The number of dead, dying and injured is staggering, but aid is finally reaching the country; supplies are being flown in daily, and more and more aid personnel land every day. The outpouring of support and assistance is one bright, shining point in all of this; there has been a stunning amount of fundraising and humanitarian aid offered.

While we know we can't fix the world via yarn, we do make our efforts. Tonight, from 7pm EST to 10pm EST, we'll be auctioning off 4 custom- dyed skeins of Bugga on the Ravelry CPA Haitian Relief Auction boards- a sweater's worth of yarn. We'll dye the skeins in any colorway past or present- you name one of our colors, and we'll make it for you, whether it's a current colorway or a discontinued one. All proceeds go towards Doctors Without Borders.

The details are in the auction thread itself, but to sum up: the auction occurs on the actual thread itself. Winners of every auction- and there is a lot more going on there than just us, some really lovely items!- are asked to pay their donation directly to the charity itself, and then to forward the reciept to us, at which point, we'll get into our dyepots and get working on your skeins.

Please, do take a look at the auctions, and if you've got a Facebook account, or a Twitter account, or any other social networking website, please help us spread the word. Thanks, everyone.

in which there is only so much time

The incredible Spinster Yarns and Fibers, of Lauraville, Baltimore, is closing its doors. The owner, Andrea, has been a friend of mine for years, and she really made this shop wonderful and unique- with a focus on natural, organic, and indie yarns, this was a fantastic store. Actually- as of right now, it still IS a fantastic store- it should be open for a few more weeks, yet. Andrea is selling everything at 50% off- yarn, fiber, books, Addi and Lantern Moon needles (I totally stocked up on LM needles last week), yarn bowls, you name it. If you're in the area, you really, really should stop by- the prices can't be beat and there is still a ton of haul to be had. The address is 4337 Harford Road, in Baltimore, MD, and if you go during the day, you should check out The Red Canoe, upstairs. They have good, strong coffee and the best muffins in the city.

 

 

 

There's a pretty awesome knit night, too- Saturdays, starting at 6ish. I'm there every week, barring major emergencies and shows. You should stop by. Really, before it's over. We're a great bunch.

R.I.P., Koko.

Koko Taylor, 1928 - 2009.

(Photo courtesy of Marc Norberg.)

in which there is insomnia

30 / 365, originally uploaded by s.eyre.

Holy hell, I'm stressed out lately. I never have insomnia out here- I work hard to avoid it, with runs and long walks, constant activity. Last night was the first time in a long time and it was serious- there was just no rest.

I came well equipped, of course- ready for anything- so tonight is dedicated to knitting a few inches of Billy's scarf while watching german movies, a ridiculously early bedtime, some short stories from Haruki Murakami (oh, just finished After The Earthquake, he's so amazing), and of course, my favorite little helper.

In other news, it appears someone in Autsin, Texas wants to be my next BFF.

 

(Thank you, Lex. That completely turned my damned day around.)

in which I continue with the hopefulness

Today opened beautifully- a perfect day for a new start, clear and gorgeous.

Jess writes beautifully about the inauguration. Highly recommended.

Chion Wolf's photos are just as eloquent. (That first shot just destroys me.)

in which there is amazement and gratitude

We really did it.

Here on Bagram, I can hear people celebrating outside of my hut; despite the base being dry, you'd think we were drunk. I feel drunk, certainly, at least with possibility and hope and optimism; what a wonderful day. I wish I could be home in Baltimore for this, although with the crowds, I wonder if folks home in D.C./ Baltimore might think I was nuts for that.

in which I yearn for adventure, or at least giant zombie snowmen

Sundown by the power plant on Bagram, December 2008.

Curse words said today: a lot. A lot, a lot. Apparently I can't discuss anything with real feeling without  massive amounts of swearing; took a long walk with Jason tonight and stopped trying about 10 minutes in. Le sigh. At this rate, I'll never get this done. I do hate that it half- proves everyone right, although I haven't given up yet. (I never did know when to give up.)

In other news... well, I really have no other news. It's a quiet life out here, and a small one, to boot. The most exciting things out here lately have been an earthquake that hardly anyone even noticed, the massive improvements I see every time I run, and designing mittens. Those are all really nice, but I'm feeling the need for a little adventure. I think I'm finally getting to the stir- crazy part of the deployment, unfortunately.

I've stopped reading the news- I'm on a news boycott for the next week. The situation in Israel is sickening, and the drama on the India- Pakistan border is killing me; if I let myself think on that last too much it'll just get obsessive. Instead of the news, I curl up in my room, listening to music, drawing robots and hoping for snow. Snow would be exactly the thing- I'm team lead, I could totally order the boys to take the morning to make snowmen with me. HUGE, terrifying, monster snowmen! It would be too awesome.

Tomorrow, the knitting update; it's too late to take pictures tonight. Be well. Send snapshots of snow if you've got any. Hell, send me a snowstorm if you can manage it, please?

in which I am dumbfounded, and joyful

This was a big election. This was a big election for me, personally; I've never used a poll, actually. Every presidential election I've been able to vote in I've been outside of the state I was registered in; I've always voted absentee. Tramping up to the elementary school in our neighborhood to join the line of voters waiting in the rain this afternoon was absolutely thrilling.

And oh, America, you shocked me. I'm so sorry I didn't believe in you. I honestly didn't think we were big enough or good enough to see this day yet. That you did it so quickly, too; so decisively- how wonderful.