Goodbye Bushka

Childhood nicknames die hard, especially when we don't want our kids to grow up and we are confronted with the fact that the cuddly little kid he once was is gone forever.  Life goes on.  Chaplain/Father Aaron (AJ) and I saw Mission Impossible yesterday and enjoyed it thoroughly.   I mean, it was great.  I can't find anything wrong with it, aside from the expected gratuitous violence in a spy/action/thriller, and I was on the edge of my seat.  I like TC, always have.    Home to chores after a stop at WM.. What incredible prices on things like cat food, milk and paper towels.  It's the store we love to hate, but I give too much money to the little local markets on a regular basis to feel guilty about abandoning them.   Home to chores and a freaky farm accident.  I was climbing the hay mow ladder with a passle of kitties milling about waiting for the scoop of food I was carrying.  One cat was knocked into the void and came flying down with claws splayed.  One paw caught me in the lower lip and chubby cheek.  The nails were fairly well embedded requiring me to pull them out of my face.  I managed to hold on to the scoop of food and get down the ladder.   Lots of blood and me really pissed off.  AJ says I look like The Joker.  Oh, well, thankfully she didn't get my eyeball.  I'm rubbing lots of Shepherd's Friend Hand Creme on the cuts to let the lavender get in there.   Think I'm looking at a scar,  but there's an old Jewish saying - "This should be the worst!"  AJ left for New Jersey this morning after the puppies woke him up at 4 am.  The little poopers are fat and happy.  I'm looking forward to them going to their homes shortly.  They are four weeks and I'm thinking maybe 6-7 weeks and they are out the door.  I'm feeding them the pricey Rachel Ray Nutritious High-Dollar Dog Food blended into mush with warm water.  Reba loves it, too.  She keeps whispering to me that it's time for them to go, but we need a little more time on the teat I tell her.  Reba says what do I know about kids dragging on the teat, but I tell her, oh, yes, I do know about multiples dragging on the teat.  Let's not go there.  I'm enjoying watching the end of the year news wrap-ups on the TV shows.  I have a GIANT fiber run in the works - burnt orange, pumpkin orange, dark purple and brown BFL wool, alpaca, kid mohair maybe with a tinge of teal thrown in.  That's my fiber Modus Operandi - another color that you wouldn't think of putting in there.  God Forbid I make a BORING run of Mother Fiber.  I get so bored spinning with these mono colored runs I see so often.  I'm ditzy with fatigue, having gotten up so early with AJ, and rather dotty with all this picking of fiber.  I'm not even finished with last year's fleeces.   I've got dye pots going, and a long queue of wet fibers in bags waiting for the drying table in the former guest room that was taken over by my business.  I know Father AJ would have been much happier in a room of his own, instead of the living room sofa next to the puppy box with dogs, cats, TV and his mother on the other sofa.  I told him that's what we do in upstate NY in the winter - we sleep around the stove!  Mia says her friends think I have a factory of my own to make all this wonderful stuff.  Little do they know I've driven many away with my creative clutter in this tiny apartment.  We work with what we've got, don't we?