Do a little local good. You know you want to.

Hi all;

My good friend Joey’s father was very recently diagnosed with lymphoma. While they’re trying to sell his house, their dogs need a place to crash. I know knitters are good people, so I was hoping that some of you might be willing to foster.

Mercedes (a bull mastiff) is great with families and small kids. (She is fixed)

JP (a Jack Russell) is great with families and everyone along with kids, but of course, loves being hyper and barking. (He is fixed.)

Bailey (lab retriever mix) is a lovey dovey dog, but no good around small kids. He likes to be the center of attention.

Bentley (german shep) is lovey dovey guy and great with kids, but can be very loud and aggressive to strangers.

Joey would be happy to pay for food, flea treatment, and (depending on cost) any vet bills incurred. This would be a temporary situation, until the house is sold and they get things a little more settled.

If you're interested, and in the California Bay Area, please send me an e-mail at: cuteknitterAThotmailDOTcom.

A little good

When traveling, I like to pick stuff up stuff for my dogs. So, when I was in Maine, we stopped at a place called Planet Dog- which has LOADS of cool dog stuff. I saw that there was a grooming station, and peeked over the barrier to coo at the dogs.

I chatted with the gal who works there, and spotted an ADORABLE chow/shiba inu named Gigi. She's less than 30 lbs, and sweet as all get-out. And, available for adoption, it seems.

"We've got two dogs," I told the gal. "And we live in California. There's no way we could adopt a dog out here."

But then, I started thinking. People from all over read my blog. People, maybe even, in (or near) South Portland, Maine. So here it is:

I love my dogs. Adopting Niki and Elphie was the best thing I have ever done. They are incredible companions, they make me smile, and they keep me on my toes. They're also a little expensive side and loads of responsibility. Think children with much less talking back.

If you've ever thought about getting a dog(s), and you have the extra time to devote to them, please do adopt one.

And, if you happen to be around Portland, Maine, go into Planet Dog and meet Gigi. She's a sweet girl who needs a home.

(If you do adopt her, send pictures!)

A more direct route, perhaps?

Today, I gave blood. This is kind of a big deal for me, since the last two times I tried to give blood I was gored by the person checking my iron levels, only to be told that they were too low to donate.

In preparation for today, I've been taking iron pills. (Sorry, I can't eat enough red meat to keep those levels high, and I'm not organized enough to do it with fish.) The woman checking my iron levels gave me the BAREST of pinpricks (as opposed to stopping when the lancet hit bone), which was - in my mind- a good start.

I sat in the chair with my book (paranormal stuff with vampires and werewolves seemed appropriate), and the phlebotomist attended to me. Last time I donated blood, there was a slight pinch when the needle went in, and then nothing until it was over. Uneventful.

This particular phlebotomist kneaded my arm (like dough) to get my veins to rise nice and clearly, then put in the needle so deeply that I thought that going directly for an artery might be faster than trying to make the needle a central line to it. But, since being polite is my default, I let it go. I can deal with a little discomfort.

When I was finished giving blood, she bandaged me up, and the first thought that crossed my mind was, "Drat. I bet she left a bruise."

You betcha. So, for your reference, I am not a junkie, just a blood donor.

Oh, and I officially submitted my stuff to be part of the bone marrow registry. Not bad for a Tuesday.

Oh, positive.

I posted a few months back that I gave blood at work. This was super exciting, since this was the first time I weighed enough to give blood (and had the opportunity to do so). In addition to cookies, juice, and ice cream, they told me that they would let me know what my blood type is. Super cool.

A few weeks later, I got a card from Stanford's blood center, letting me know that I'm O+, and that they were in desperate need of O+ blood and bone marrow. So, every chance I've had to give blood since, I've tried.

(I'm battling my iron count. I'm trying to keep it high enough to donate every two months, so I'm taking iron supplements.)

Now, I think I'm going to try and get into the bone marrow registry. I need to do a little more reading on the subject, but mostly as to how to get in and whatnot.

Am I sure?

Oh, positive.

Purging, Round 2

I’ve done more purging. Anything I haven’t worn in the last year, or that looks like I’ve worn it every day for the last year- GONE!

Some of these items include:

• My marching band “travel uniform” pants. Size 3. (Don’t hurt yourself laughing trying to remember how long ago that really has been)
• Most of the sweaters I’ve knit for myself. Two are cropped, two are super-bulky, and the rest I just don’t like anymore.
• Three pairs of combat boots. ‘Nuff said.
• Three skirts that are too short to wear anywhere without fishnets and vinyl boots.
• A wool coat that my mother bought when she first came to the US. 30 years ago. It’s lovely, but too tight in the armholes.
• A raincoat that also is a little too tight in the armholes.
• My wedding dress. I’ve worn it twice. That’s plenty for a $10 dress, right?
• My first pair of “ugly shoes” that I bought with Christine in 1996. I’ve worn them, I’ve loved them, but I’m too old to wear them.
• Two ugly, cheap, and incredibly functional purses.
• Two sweaters that were beautiful when I bought them (ahem, four years ago), but have had the “pretty” worn out of them.
• One sweatshirt that the sleeves “aren’t right” on. (Those with OCD will understand.)

Some days, it just feels better to donate the stuff that weighs you down.

Come One, Come All!

I've blogged about Caps to the Capital before, so I'm not going to repeat myself.

As truly a community oriented store, Commuknity is hosting a Caps to the Capital Knit A Long on December 8th, from 6-11 PM.

As for my own contribution, I will be knitting baby hats and likely bringing donuts. Please join us all and help a worthy cause.

Knitters to the Rescue!

A receptionist friend of mine handed me a snippet out of the most current Women's Day with the following text:

Save a Baby's Life Did you know that as many as 2 million babies born in developing countries die within 24 hours? Simple measures like putting a cap on a newborn's head to keep him warm could prevent 70 percent of these deaths. That's why Save the Children teamed up with the Warm-Up America! Foundation to launch Knitters and Crocheters for Newborns: Caps to the Capital. Knit a cap before January 2 and Save the Children will deliver it to President Bush in a plea to allocate more federal funding toward health programs for mothers in the developing world. Find patterns and info at savethechildren.org.

Click HERE to go directly to Caps to the Capital.

Although I am a strong believer in the adage that charity begins at home, Americans, as a group, tend to be insular. As a country, we have done immeasurable damage globally, whether it has been with the best of intentions or not. Please take this opportunity to help those who can't help themselves- children.

If you are local (California Bay Area) and wish to participate but don't want to pay/ can't pay for shipping, please send me an e-mail (hit the "Contact Me" button) and we can arrange to meet and I will send your contribution in our box/es. I will also make loads of the tags at Kinko's (as opposed to printing one per page) on tagboard/cardstock.

Blog lurkers/commenters are encouraged to spread the word and participate.

The deadline is January 2nd, so this will be an ongoing project.

New Hair!

That's right, I've been more or less a recluse for the last week. Last Saturday, I decided to cut my hair and donate about a foot of hair (about 10" braided) to Locks of Love. I've talked about doing it since... forever, but finally mustered up the courage to go to the hairdresser and get it done.

I love my hairdresser, especially since I've gotten married. Now that I'm an "adult" (it's cultural), she actually does what I ask her to, instead of what my mother thinks I should do.

So I show up, hair braided, hair ties securing the braid at both ends (because I am prepared), and I tell her what I want to do. As she is cutting- about halfway done cutting my braid off, something in my stomach screams, "Nooooooooooo!"

"Oh well, too late to go back," I think as she hands me my braid.

Ick. Hair is okay when it's on your head, but I find it really gross otherwise. I have no such qualms about hair from other critters, I'm just grossed out by detached human hair.

I bag it, and we commence with the giving-me-a-cute-haircut process. It was great, she blow-dried my hair straight (which makes it "flippy", a la my nieces and nephew), and I went over to my parent's house to pick up mom to do... whatever it was we were doing that day.

I proudly brandish my braid-in-a-bag, and my mother (not missing a beat) says, "You think that's cool? Wait 'til you see this!"

She comes out with a braid. From when I was really little. I know parents do this, but EW! I guess loving my gross, no-longer-attached-to-my-head hair is something only my parents would do.

Pics to be posted once we download the pics off of the camera.