Last night, I got into baking cookies for this morning because of a meeting the husband and I were attending, but I didn't really sleep last night because I was stressed out and my brain wouldn't shut down in spite of three milligrams of melatonin to sleep. Sleep just didn't happen for me, so of course I'm draggy today.
It was a meeting with our construction manager. We're in the middle of our house being built, which is something we've never done before and while we've dealt with our realtor, banker finance guy, and builder rep, we hadn't met the construction manager until today. He was awesome and said we're still on track for the end of March. These people have taken a potentially hugely scary experience and made it not so very bad at all, expect me spazzing out about the weather. Nobody can fix that but me. We have had one weekend where it spit snow a bit and one or two days where it was drizzly. The rest of the time, even with it being cold, we've had clear weather which has been great for construction. We now have not just a slab with the necessities for that, but also walls, adorable windows, and a completed roof and our fireplace has been installed! ZOMFG!
Three years ago, if someone had told me that my husband would lose his job and be unemployed for six months while I finished out the abuse of chemo, we would move halfway across the country, drive over to Colorado to visit Army Monkey and his Adorable Wife for a few days, I'd be volunteering at a nearby barn grooming horses, be included in the Celtic Guide publication multiple times, and we'd have a son in college, one who is part of a team who won the state championship, and that we would be able to repair our credit well enough to be building a house in the same neighborhood we lived in, and find some nice neighbors, the reply I'd have given that person would have been to tell them they were batshit crazy.
Bat. Shit. Crazy.
But obviously not.
I still don't have any ink to cover the vile scars on my upper chest. I still have to pack us up so we can move in two months. (I've learned a local move can be just as stressful as a cross country move.)
I didn't get barn time in today because I needed to give Fuzzy Manatee some medicine earlier today and one of her little teeth sliced my thumb. It's just one of those things. She's not mean, she wasn't being mean, she was in self-preservation mode because "ZOMFG!Two-Legger-Is-Shoving-Something-Icky-In-My-Mouth!" Because I'm on blood thinners, this is a problem. Because I've had lymph nodes ripped out of my body on the right side, that means my lymph system is damaged and doesn't function normally any longer, so that's yet another potential problem. Even a paper cut or hang nail being pulled so there's a tiny open nick or cut can result in or trigger a massively serious infection and/or swelling in my arm on that side. It's fucking ridiculous, actually. Being stepped on by a horse isn't a problem, but a fucking paper cut can be--go figure.
Streak has taught me how to crochet, which is awesome because I didn't figure I was smart or coordinated enough to actually learn how to. She has got to be one of the most amazingly kind people I have ever encountered. She encouraged me and would explain some things to me without actually seeming like she was explaining whatever about it and she wasn't confusing about it at all.
Because I can tie my shoes, my logic was since I found This Project by Hidden Daisyy that I should be able to actually make that. And I did, in a dark teal color, so I actually made something.
Three year amputation-versary is this week, so while I'm pleased about the house, I'm also not so great mentally because of the stupid bilateral mastectomy three years ago, but that's another post for another day.
Hopefully, I can get barn time in on Thursday.
It was a meeting with our construction manager. We're in the middle of our house being built, which is something we've never done before and while we've dealt with our realtor, banker finance guy, and builder rep, we hadn't met the construction manager until today. He was awesome and said we're still on track for the end of March. These people have taken a potentially hugely scary experience and made it not so very bad at all, expect me spazzing out about the weather. Nobody can fix that but me. We have had one weekend where it spit snow a bit and one or two days where it was drizzly. The rest of the time, even with it being cold, we've had clear weather which has been great for construction. We now have not just a slab with the necessities for that, but also walls, adorable windows, and a completed roof and our fireplace has been installed! ZOMFG!
Three years ago, if someone had told me that my husband would lose his job and be unemployed for six months while I finished out the abuse of chemo, we would move halfway across the country, drive over to Colorado to visit Army Monkey and his Adorable Wife for a few days, I'd be volunteering at a nearby barn grooming horses, be included in the Celtic Guide publication multiple times, and we'd have a son in college, one who is part of a team who won the state championship, and that we would be able to repair our credit well enough to be building a house in the same neighborhood we lived in, and find some nice neighbors, the reply I'd have given that person would have been to tell them they were batshit crazy.
Bat. Shit. Crazy.
But obviously not.
I still don't have any ink to cover the vile scars on my upper chest. I still have to pack us up so we can move in two months. (I've learned a local move can be just as stressful as a cross country move.)
I didn't get barn time in today because I needed to give Fuzzy Manatee some medicine earlier today and one of her little teeth sliced my thumb. It's just one of those things. She's not mean, she wasn't being mean, she was in self-preservation mode because "ZOMFG!Two-Legger-Is-Shoving-Something-Icky-In-My-Mouth!" Because I'm on blood thinners, this is a problem. Because I've had lymph nodes ripped out of my body on the right side, that means my lymph system is damaged and doesn't function normally any longer, so that's yet another potential problem. Even a paper cut or hang nail being pulled so there's a tiny open nick or cut can result in or trigger a massively serious infection and/or swelling in my arm on that side. It's fucking ridiculous, actually. Being stepped on by a horse isn't a problem, but a fucking paper cut can be--go figure.
Streak has taught me how to crochet, which is awesome because I didn't figure I was smart or coordinated enough to actually learn how to. She has got to be one of the most amazingly kind people I have ever encountered. She encouraged me and would explain some things to me without actually seeming like she was explaining whatever about it and she wasn't confusing about it at all.
Because I can tie my shoes, my logic was since I found This Project by Hidden Daisyy that I should be able to actually make that. And I did, in a dark teal color, so I actually made something.
Three year amputation-versary is this week, so while I'm pleased about the house, I'm also not so great mentally because of the stupid bilateral mastectomy three years ago, but that's another post for another day.
Hopefully, I can get barn time in on Thursday.
Aww! Thanks girl! I love the necklace you crocheted. You're doing good and picking it up fast!
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