March 23 will always, I fear, be Plan C day. This was the day that the doctor was firmly non-committal when it was becoming obvious that Bob's second transplant had not taken, and I asked her what the next step would be. After she left, I looked at Bob and said "I don't think there's a Plan C." And there wasn't.
I found a jewelry store that would talk to me about my ring. Melting and recasting isn't recommended - because there is also solder involved in the setting, it could contaminate and weaken the gold, especially since it is a small ring. They could put a new setting and diamond in it - but I don't want that; it simply would not be *my* diamond, the one that 19-year-old me squealed when they chose it. So what they are going to do is cut off the setting and file and smooth the ring. I should get it back in a couple of weeks.
It's still bothering me so much not to have it, psychologically of course, but also physically. I didn't realize how much I fiddled with it, just touching it with my thumb. And my fingers on either side were used to feeling it there. My hand just feels weird. Before I took it in (and leaving it there was so hard) I would sometimes put it on in the evening just to de-stress and be able to feel it again.)
In other news, I came home with a spinning wheel last week.
A Rick Reeves (one of the iconic names in spinning wheels). Handmade, red oak (weighs a ton), double table Norwegian style. But I don't particularly want it, and don't plan on keeping it.
Here's the story. A woman who used to be a neighbor (about 30 years ago) tracked me down. They're moving out of town, and she had some fiber (alpaca) that she wanted to give me. She also wanted to know if I knew anyone who wanted a spinning wheel - she got this beauty, but doesn't use it much. I said I knew someone in the weaving guild who might be interested, but their budget was around $500, and this wheel is worth about three times that much. When I got to her place, and we were talking, she said they were moving in three days and she really didn't want to take it with her, so would part with it for $500. At that price, I know that I can pass it on at some point, so home with me it came.
Also, "some alpaca" turned out to be about 30 pounds. Guess I'll be busy sorting/washing for awhile.
The Renaissance Faire was this weekend. I got my outfit finished - I took it as a challenge to use only stuff that I had on hand. I had a beige sheet - so that got dyed green and made into a skirt. Some paprika linen became a bodice, and brown linen for a witch's hat and belt pouch. I needed a belt - so I strung up the loom and wove one (in the background of the picture with the hand.
OK - I did buy one thing, but it's to go with my puppet and not specifically for this outfit. The dragon uses the "fake arm" illusion. Normally I just use a stuffed glove, but I wanted to upgrade. I bought a poseable hand (normally used for manicurists to practice on). It was, of course, a dead pale "flesh" tone, but I did some painting and texturing on it. I also covered most of it with a fingerless mitts (and wore the matching mitt on my real hand). It was surprisingly effective.
Here's the whole ensemble, with dragon.
It was a lot of fun - after I finally got there. They weren't expecting the turnout that happened. When I got close to the Fairground (at a point that I would normally be about 5 minutes away) I sat in a traffic jam for one and a half hours. I had made the outfit, rigged the arm, gotten dressed, bought my tickets online - so what the heck, somehow I was going to get there.
I think the three months of living in the hospital room, just sitting and waiting and sitting and waiting rewired me. I *never* used to be able to sit still, or wait for anything, and if a line was going to be more than 15 minutes long I would strongly question how much I wanted something. Now, if a long wait comes up, I just sort of shut down.
I also immediately gave up my plan of eating fair food. There wasn't a single line less than 30 people long, and I had done enough waiting for one day.
It was a smallish Faire (it's an organization that does Faires, but this was their test one in Tallahassee) but fun. There was jousting (guys in real armor on real horses) live music, jugglers, fire eaters, circus acts, storytelling, and dancing.
I had my dragon. She was important. Without her, I would have been there by myself. Walking around, looking and enjoying stuff, but also being aware that everyone else seemed to be in couples or groups. With her - there were *lots* of interactions. Lots of photographs taken. Lots of compliments, of course. A chance to talk to other makers. I got to feel like I was part of something. It was fun.
I needed that - to get out, talk to people, get outside of my own head. For the last month I've been feeling myself shutting down, being disoriented (when it gets dark and cool outside, I sometimes think it's fall and forget what time of year it is). I just want to sit and wait things out - without really having anything to wait for.
In a week, 2020 self will get up, take a last longing look at the empty shell that use to hold Bob, walk out of the room and come home.
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