365 Days Handmade

Making life a better place, one day at a time

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Day 90/365: On the Mend

I spent most of today on the couch.  I drank cups of hot tea and crocheted a few more rows on the garnet afghan.  I played some old DVDs on the television, more for background noise than for any actual watching.  At around 5 PM, I realized I would need to leave the house and do some grocery shopping if I wanted to eat any meals for the rest of the week.  I put together a grocery list and walked out the front door for the first time all day.

I may have mentioned this before, but in case I hadn’t and you’re not aware of it:  Our house is situated in a neighborhood that is built on the side of a steep hill.  It makes for good exercise when you’re walking to and from downtown.  It’s also a lot of fun when you’re riding your bike and coasting downhill (but not so much when you’re trying to pedal your way back up).


This is a photo that I took about two months ago.  Sean and I were walking home from downtown, and I wanted visual proof that it is a damn steep hill.


That yellow fire hydrant is where you would turn onto our street. Don’t you feel out of breath, just looking at this climb? I know I was.

I do know that I’ve mentioned before that Sean and I enjoy skateboarding.  And that is the second thing you need to know, in order to understand the significance of the following text exchange between me and Sean (who is currently down at the Ventura homestead while I’m up here at the Morro Bay house).  Because on my way home from the grocery store, I stopped to take a photo and send it to him.  He responded within a few minutes.

Me:  Newly paved!


Sean:  WOW!


I definitely need to get well soon.


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Day 43/365: You Should See The Other Guy

Given my unfortunate skateboarding incident four days ago, along with the recent unfortunate incident with my size 3 circulars, I haven’t made any significant progress with my current projects.

At the same time, I do have to tell you that I’ve enjoyed walking around the prison with bruised knuckles and a wrist brace all week.  Because when any of the inmates asks, it gives me the opportunity to say (as I hold up my hand in a fist), “This is what happened when that last guy disrespected me.”


Ah, my lovely. We will ride again.



Day 40/365: Broken Wing’s Wife Feels the Pain

Okay, so remember the story of how Broken Wing broke his wing riding his skateboard?

Well, I guess it would be hypocritical of me to tell that story and then not share mine, which I’m embarrassed to say happened for pretty much the same reason:  yesterday afternoon I tried to ride a board that was faster than I expected.

Anyway, it’s not much of a story.  We took the skateboards out and went riding with some friends, and I was cruising on my longboard and having a pretty good time.  One of our friends had a shorter board that wasn’t really suitable for his build, so he was having to work harder to make it go.  I offered him the use of my longboard, and then Sean suggested I try his other board, which seemed like a perfectly good idea until I stepped on it and the thing quickly slid out from under me.  I tried to break the fall with my left hand and landed on my palm with the full force of my body weight.

Luckily I didn’t break anything, but goddamn, it hurt like a sonofabitch.  But you know what?  I got back on my board as soon as the pain subsided a little, because you can’t let shit like that stop you.  No point in sitting around, crying or sulking or blaming the board or your husband for suggesting you try something new.  When you fall down, you got to dust yourself off and get yourself back up.

And anyway, I still had to roll my sorry ass home, because sure as shit wasn’t nobody gonna be carrying me.



See? Nothing broken. Maybe a little bruised and swollen.  That hand will be punching again in no time.



Day 17/365: Second Completed Pair of Socks for 2015


For Christmas, Sean bought me yards of cute fun fabric (including this wrestling mask print), and I got him a skateboard.  He actually selected the board, trucks, wheels, and bearings, designing it specifically to go fast around the hills in our neighborhood.  The guy at the skate shop assembled it, and then I paid for it.  They packed and boxed it up, and then we took it home where I wrapped the whole shebang in Christmas paper and set it under the tree.

The Monday after Christmas, we were up and about, lazily considering our breakfast options and discussing what we would have that morning.

“I can make eggs and potatoes,” Sean offered.  “But we’re out of eggs.”

“I don’t feel like driving,” I said.  “Do you feel like going to the store?”

“Sure,” he said.  “I’ll go.”

It didn’t occur to me at that point in time that he didn’t put up a fuss, because usually he disliked driving to the store as much as I did.  If I’d thought about it, that would have been a red flag that he was up to something.  But I didn’t, and I kept sewing, or knitting, or scrolling through Facebook, which are usually my top three activities to do when I’m sitting around the house on my day off from work.



(Can you see the sea otters in the background?)


About forty-five minutes passed, and I thought it was pretty strange that he was taking so long to make the one mile down to the supermarket and back.  But I wasn’t too worried.  He’d probably chosen to drive to another local grocery store a few more miles away.  Several more minutes passed, and then he was coming in through the front door with his backpack and baseball cap on, looking sweaty and suspiciously like somebody who did not just drive his car to the store.

“What’d you do?” I said.  “Ride your bike?”

“No.”  He started unzipping his backpack to remove the groceries.  “I took the skateboard.”

That’s when I noticed the side of his pants looked like they’d just been dragged through the street at about twenty-five miles per hour.  “Did you take a spill?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal…  Look!  The eggs aren’t broken!”



(The ripples in the water really are sea otters. Click for a bigger picture.)


He made us breakfast (a really good meal of over-medium eggs with country-style fried potatoes), and then I went back to doing my thing and he decided to watch one of his Netflix DVDs.  The movie was only halfway through when he got up and said, “I kind of am actually in a little pain.”

I stopped the sewing machine.  “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

“No… But maybe to Urgent Care.”

We went to Urgent Care and sure enough… the eggs weren’t broken, but he couldn’t say the same for his elbow.