Last night, bolstered by a cup of tangerine tea, I hooked up my lap stand, took a deep breath, and decided that I was going to put one stitch into Red Velvet Cake or else.
It was very slow going, and first it felt very awkward, but before I knew it, I had completed another whole section!
Oh, wait. I forgot.
DANG YOU, BLOGGER ERROR 400 AND YOUR REFUSAL TO PUBLISH PHOTOS!
(Because, let's face it. Without photos, this is just a long rambling mess of drivel from a neurotic old portly broken down lunatic spinster.)
(And nobody needs very much of THAT in their life on a random Wednesday.)
I suppose it will all work itself out, but confess that the stress of not being able to use my iPad to engage with the world in this way kept me tossing and turning last night. I finally embrace technology and then it bites me in the heiney.
Today will be a day for research into how to solve the problem, but if any if you have insight that would keep me from throwing a perfectly good iPad across the room, that would be swell too. (Once again...I am able to compose a post using Blogger, but if I insert a picture of any kind I get an "Error 400...unable to publish" message if I try to save or post it. Text only seems to be working just fine.)
The big black dog (*) is still here with me, I'm afraid, but tomorrow I will visit with Dr. Melfi, the surgeon, and then my family doc for a good look-see. Between the three of them, I'm sure we'll come up with a solution...even if it's eat more kale and ramp up the morning treadmill time.
(But I'm really hoping it's more along the lines of eat more doughnuts and ramp up the stitchy time.)
Another very heartfelt thank you for visiting with me down here at the bottom of the well, Dearies. I am especially grateful for the personal notes and all of the beautiful pictures on the social medias. (If one is going to lie flat on one's back in the cold dark mud of wallowness, it sure is nice to have sweet notes from friends to read and pretty things to look at!)
(*) Does anybody know which author used this metaphor for the d-word? I knew once, but forgot...Hemmingway? Roth?
(It's here that I should clarify that I am in no way implying that big black dogs are in any way bad. It's just an expression that I have always used because it stuck in my little brain.)
(But I am completely terrified of big black dogs...both the actual and metaphorical kind.)