snow day

It snowed about 4 inches last night, maybe 5. Buddy, despite having a badly twisted knee, enjoyed a little time in the front yard today whilst I shoveled.

I started writing a little bit about Buddy…and then realized he deserves his own page. If you don’t know about our marvelous tripod dog and how he survived Hurricane Katrina, maybe pop on over and read his story and peek at a few extra photos of him.

Twisted Knee (ow!)

Being a tripod means extra stress on Buddy’s remaining joints. He has a bad back hip; he’s twisted that knee twice this winter because of the bad hip. This time, he stopped using one of his back legs completely, and was actually running around on just TWO legs! (Pretty amazing to see that, actually.) We were worried he had torn something and would need surgery, but Xrays showed his knee is just swollen, nothing torn. Whew!

However, we have to keep him off the knee, and that’s a bit of a challenge for Mr. Dancing Dog.

Answer: Drugs. Some for the pain, and some to keep him quiet.

This is Buddy a bit earlier in the day, when the pain drugs were at full strength. Looks a little stoned, doesn’t he? Poor kid.  He can’t have NSAIDs because he is prone to stomach ulceration. (Prone, as in: His stomach wall ruptured last spring due to NSAIDs and he nearly died. No more NSAIDS for him, ever.) So he’s on stronger stuff to help keep him resting and off the knee for a bit.

And snow, as we’ve discovered, makes for a GREAT ice pack. I take him outside and let him just sit in the snow for a little while. Works like a charm, and he enjoys the time outdoors.

Buddy says “Thank you!” to everyone who inquired about him over the past week and sends knee licks back to everyone for their kindness.

In Other News

I’m having some serious writer’s block today, which is all the more frustrating because yesterday at this time I was BURSTING with blog ideas. I wanted to do a post yesterday, but we had vet appointments and errands and a snowstorm to fit into our day.

And of course, I did not take notes.


Some days I feel as though I could write and write all day. Some days, I kid you not, I sit at the computer and put my fingers on the keyboard, and shazam! It’s three hours later and I’ve posted once to Twitter and twice on Ravelry and for the life of me, I can’t figure out what else happened. Three hours. What? Did aliens suck me up to the mothership and download all my good blog ideas? (That would definitely NOT take three hours to do. Just sayin’.) Did I go into some sort of ecstatic yarn trance? (Where’s the darn ecstatic YARN, then? I want ACTUAL YARN if I’m going to have a yarn trance.)

I know one thing: I certainly did not clean house during that lost time. Nor did I empty the dishwasher, nor do the laundry. Nor did I do my accounting, or walk 5 miles uphill in the snow.

The Girls in the Basement

When I worked at Interweave, I used to do what I called “wandering.” I’d get up from my desk, and go walking around the halls, pausing to say hi, or to see what projects were going into the next issue of one of the magazines, or to ask a question…or to gaze lovingly at the contents of the office supply closet. I’m sure this habit used to drive my boss crazy, because it would look like I was goofing off. I always felt guilty about it, until one day Bonnie, the phone operator/shipping coordinator/SheWhoRunsTheWholePlace said to me: “I love it when you come by my desk in your wanderings. I always picture you working out your posts in the back of your head while you’re talking with me, and it’s interesting how that works for you.”

I'm sure the mothership is out there...somewhere

I realized she was on to something there. My wanderings weren’t idle time, they were a chance for my brain to work on stuff in the background, out of range of my conscious Inner Critic. I’d wander for a bit, then go back to my desk, sit down, and write like a crazy person for a while. In fact, I think most of my posts at Knitting Daily were written as I walked up and down the halls, hassling the production folks or peppering the mag staff with insightful (coughcough) questions.

After my month of writing daily here, I think I haven’t gotten into the “groove” of writing three times a week yet. My brain is ready to write at a certain time of day every day, and if I don’t do it when I’m ready, it’s poof, gone. It’s as though I am trying to catch sparkles on the surface of a stream: If I stand in the stream Now, the sparkles will be one way; if I wait a couple of hours, the light will have changed, and the sparkles will be entirely different.

I wonder if this means I’m just not disciplined enough yet. I don’t know much about how other writers write; Stephen King is the only one I know much about because of his wonderful book On Writing, as well as his descriptions of characters who are book authors (particularly in Bag of Bones, I LOVE THAT BOOK, and I know I’m weird, but then, you knew that too, right?). King speaks of “the boys in the basement, moving furniture around,” which fits my experience of writing being something that happens almost in spite of the conscious me. The more I try to control my writing, the more unruly the girls in my basement become, and the more staring at the screen I do. The more I let go, the more the words flow.

Sheesh. Look at me. For someone who spent three hours today on the mothership in a yarn trance, I just wrote over 700 words in about ten minutes.

Now Boarding…

This is why I have trouble planning a post. Planning a post is Sure Writing Death. I can say to myself, Girl, today we ought to talk about Buddy, because everyone’s asking about him. Or I can say, Girl, let’s talk about our project queue. (Apparently, I refer to myself as “Girl” in a black woman’s cheeky voice, and I am “we” when I address myself. Confusing, but let’s just nod and move on, shall we? Thanks.)

But if I say, Girl, let’s talk about Compassion, then that’s a guaranteed ticket to the mothership.

I was a PITA for my boss at Interweave, I tell you. The poor thing so badly wanted An Editorial Calendar for Knitting Daily. We’d sit in meetings, my boss, me, the marketing folks, the reps from the mags, and they would all try to get me to talk about Subject A on Monday, and Magazine B on Wednesday, and Free Pattern Z on Friday…and they’d bust their butts trying to plan six or eight weeks’ worth of post content at a time.

I would nod. And smile. And then proceed to go wandering again.

“Flight 459 bound for the Mothership, now boarding in Conference Room 2.”

(Current word count: 1200. OK, someone rein in the crazy person.)

P.S. Is the formatting funky or is it just me? New software. Driving me nuts. Sorry.


At least 90 of you have left a comment on Monday’s post to enter this week’s giveaway for the Eunny Jang DVD colorwork tutorial or the Surprise Second Thing. Deadline is midnight (EST) Thursday, so go leave a comment! (Details are in that post as well.)

Today’s Random Good

Sometimes, when I’m editing a photo, I see something I did not see when I was taking the photo.

The dryad who lives in this tree was grinning for the camera! See the face?

I went outside to say hello and then I saw that there was actually a second dryad living in the same tree.

I love it when Nature shows her sense of humour.

About sandi

Knitter. Spinner. Quilter. UFO Wrangler. Sometime bead artist and weaver. Two toddler-age kittens, 1 permakitten, 2 grownup cats, 1 beloved dog angel, 1 spouse, 1 crazy life. I suppose that the 5 cats make me 1 crazy cat lady; OTOH, apparently, yes, I do need that much feline supervision.
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13 Responses to snow day

  1. InJuneau says:

    Good to know that the snow is good for something for Buddy, as it must be crushing to him that he can’t run around in it.

    Thanks for sharing his story too.

  2. Buddy looks very happy in the snow! Lots of times its much more fun and interesting to follow the flow than the structure.

  3. Naomi says:

    Nice sparkles, those.

    I spent a while today on a similar mothership. I got a few stitches knit, but it was mostly yarn-holding and powerpoint-staring.

  4. Michelle says:

    Why do you think I always took a walk at lunch when I was the editor of Beading Daily? The treadmill works for thinking/writing now, except that it’s near the bead table and sometimes I can’t hear the words over the beads . . .

  5. molly says:

    i don’t blog, but i do write a little letter once or sometimes twice a week to a couple of dear friends, and it works the same way…i have a marvelous idea, a great train of thought – the wrong day, i’m away from the computer – poof – it’s gone….the great train derails!
    fortunately, for us, even days when you have been spirited up to the mothership, you take us along. thank you.
    and thank you for buddy’s story. he’s a lucky boy. and a very sweet one.

  6. Luu says:

    Sandy, I like your wandering thoughts. You are thought-full and I am happy you share your ideas. HVe fun in the snow. Lu

  7. Karen says:

    Keep up with the ‘wanderings’. glad to hear Buddy is doing better, he is a sweety!

  8. cocokat says:

    Hugs to Buddy! What a great story.

  9. Laura says:

    I, too, find myself victim of the whims of the Writing Muse(s). Or aliens, as the case may be. I have heard much of the advice that says to be a consistent writer you must have A Plan, and A Daily Word Count and all that. While I wouldn’t say my current (lack of plan) system works, I would say that planning things out in that manner often leaves me very frustrated. It’s nice for me to hear someone else who “writes” by talking to people. But I also think that some of your experience writing this post testifies to one more thing: that writing can also develop just by the act of writing. Maybe that thought will help me get more writing done today, too.

    Oh, and Buddy is adorable.

  10. RichelleCK says:

    Glad to read the pupdate on Buddy!

    It strikes me how common it is for those who don’t actually do the creation to think they are so brilliant they can schedule the creation. In my line of work, it’s more those who don’t deal with the details think they know when, how, and how quickly things should be done…when they really have just a shimmer of a clue.

  11. Pat says:

    Loved the post. Sparkling water makes me happy, as happy as pictures of snow (and walking in snow, and driving in snow) make me sad. If I hurry outside(I’m in Southeast Michigan) I may actually see sunlight. I guess that I will go to the yarn shop and buy yarn. Peace

  12. Kathy says:

    I LOVE your writing–whatever the topic, whenever it appears, whatever the length. I don’t believe real creativity can be scheduled or confined in boxed parameters. Give yourself permission to write when you are inspired to do so and not worry about the days the words just don’t come but your schedule tells you “should”. You have to give your creativity room to be and grow.

    Here’s another tidbit that might be useful–remove the word “should” from your vocabulary and replace it with “could”. “Should” invokes guilt but “could” allows choice. Wishing you the free and happy creating

  13. Tamara says:

    You are the Wordsworth or Coleridge of knitting writers, that’s all. They walked all over blooming England, and see what they produced? Deathless prose. So the wandering is of course what you should do.

    It also sounds as though you do have a particular time that you feel the urge to write; why not just write at that time of day? Is there a particular reason you can’t? And I agree with Kathy, who said get rid of “should”. Easier said than done, but a good idea nonetheless.

    As other people have mentioned and I have noticed (which is why I came in search of you), KD has suffered tremendously under that tight-fisted editorial control. I never read, nor look forward to the posts anymore because I just don’t want to be sold to. I think almost everyone probably much preferred your KD to the KD of today. So let that be a prop for your ability to draw people to your writing, and to you.

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