Free Range Mind

It dawned on me when reading your comments--besides that you all are the coolest people I know--that it probably seems like I am visited on a terribly regular basis by the bad-day fairy. Not true--although it IS true that my face was attacked by an evil-minded virus bent on ugliness and I DID iron my fingers and the deer absolutely munched down on my coral bells (the apples on one of our apple trees, too, but I don't mind that so much--we have lots. You just always have to remember to check the apples at the Knitingale house for deer spit .), I really didn't have all that bad a week. It's just that "I'm enjoying my job, I have a great hubby, and we sat in the hot tub every night this week" just doesn't have the same humor potential as ironing one's fingers. I figured I ought to own up to that, lest you think a black cloud the size of Romania was hovering over the Knitingale house.

There is, however, a largish cloud hovering over the clinic where I work, or perhaps the f*&%-up fairy has a fondness for their electrical equipment, because the second refrigerator since I've been there went crazy yesterday and froze a bunch of the antigen. Since our shotroom gives allergy shots with that antigen all day long every day, and since freezing it ruins it, this was a problem. The guy who works in the shotroom spent all day going through it and identifying what had to be replaced; I volunteered to stay after work and help him mix down new stuff. The strongest mixes didn't freeze, so we could inject it into bottles of diluent to make new mixes of the weaker stuff. We went through all 150 bottles of diluent bottles we had in stock going alphabetically through the shot patients.....and got through the L's. Amazingly, writing labels for 150 bottles, drawing up thick antigen, injecting it into a bottle, drawing up some of that and injecting it into the next bottle, and so on for 2 and a half hours is actually not as fascinating as it sounds, which means the Knitingale mind got to wander freely for that time period. I know--me, with a free-range mind for 150 minutes. It's worrisome. But, if you have the courage to read on, I offer you:

News From the Mother Goose Morning News Show (don't ask....the path to this bit of weirdness is very convoluted indeed--but it's far more entertaining than a description of the assorted antigen stains on my new pink scrub pants):

"The Bear family today reported coming home today to what was apparently a home invasion in progress. The perpetrator, seemingly exhausted from her food theft and vandalism, had fallen asleep in one of the beds but fled the scene upon awakening to the sight of the Bear family gathered around her. She had been muttering something in her sleep about hard chairs and soft beds.

Mrs. Bear had this to say: 'I don't mind so much about the porridge--although, if she was hungry, I wish she'd just asked. But my son's chair is in pieces and that was a family heirloom!' The chair in question was hand carved from maple and was, it seems, too small for the bottom of the vandal. Police have no solid leads at this time, but believe it to be the work of the criminal known only as 'Goldilocks', due to her flowing mane of blonde curly hair. She is suspected in a number of home invasions, including one with a boy believed to be her brother in which they stole candy off the outside of a home while the owner was present, and then pushed her into her own oven. The owner, a practicing witch, survived the incident but was quite shaken. She installed hurricane fencing the next day.

'Goldilocks' is said to be about 4'9" tall, with blonde hair and a fondness for sweets. She seems to prefer to work alone, but may be in the company of a small boy. If you know anything about this criminal, you are asked to contact the Mother Goose Police department.

In other news today, the giant has reported another theft of his golden-egg-laying goose, right after spotting a strange new plant in his garden. He states that a boy appeared to be using the plant to gain access to the giant's home where he went on a robbery spree, stuffing thousands of dollars worth of gold coins into his satchel and escaping down the plant with the goose under his arm. The police received an anonymous tip from someone living next door to a man named 'Jack'--the caller has observed Jack jumping over candlesticks nightly and believes that he may have been practicing for the leap from the plant necessary to access the giant's gold. Jack has not been seen since the theft took place, and the neighber believes he may have fled the country.

Picketers surrounded the home of Snow White today, bearing signs and shouting slogans related to what they perceive to be her lack of moral character. One picketer said this: 'She lives there with seven little men! It ain't right, I'll tell you that. I don't even want to let my children walk by this house! What am I supposed to tell them?' Snow White insists that she is employed by the men, and only serves as a live in housekeeper, but neighbors aren't so sure, reporting seeing dancing and hearing music at all hours in the little house. Some of you may recall that Miss White entered our city under a cloud of suspicion, when her stepmother mysteriously died immediately after Snow awoke from a persistent vegetative state. There were rumors that the vegetative state was the result of poisoning by the stepmother and that this provided motive for the murder, but no evidence was ever found that definitively implicated Miss White.

Humpty Dumpty is recovering in Mother Goose Memorial Hospital this morning, after tumbling 7 feet from his garden wall. Hospital spokespeople report that Mr. Dumpty suffered multiple fractures and is listed in fragile condition. No word yet as to what might have led to the fall.

Finally, in lighter news today, Princess Sophia is said to have found a frog today that spoke to her and asked her to kiss him in order to turn him into a handsome prince. The Princess declined the offer, but kept the frog as a pet, pointing out that 'this kingdom is lousy with princes--but a talking frog? Now THAT'S cool.'"

I know...it's scary where my mind wanders to, isn't it? I'd try to explain it, but one of our heads would probably explode.

Happy knitting to one and all. It's the weekend, and I'm going to try to sneak in some time with the needles myself--but no ironing. Definitely, no ironing.