Thumpity-Thump!

"Twas the Every Other Month Visit To The Doctor today in order that I might be weighed, measured, queried as to my overall functioning, tagged for future study then released back into the wild. I usually make a day of it. If I have to go to the doctor where they keep the cold stethoscopes and long, scary cotton swabs, then I am also going to take a day off to watch TV and maybe do a little shopping. It's like a reward and one that makes the doctor visits almost something that I look forward to.

But, this one was cause for a little anxiety. No. I do not have some weird growth that looks like a turnip or a third eye growing in the middle of my earlobe or anything. But, in some ways, that might be preferable.

For, you see, I had a good summer. A very good summer. For the first time in years, I wasn't working at a second job and I took full advantage of the time to explore the joys of being Me In Summer. Basically this means that I spent a great deal of time lolling about on the couch looking for all the world like a modern day Cleopatra on history's most tattered and cat-hair festooned barge. I used that time to think about how great it was to have all the time in the world to do cool things.

I also seem to have eaten a great deal. Mostly black and white cookies. I love black and white cookies. I love them very, very much.

In fact, I love them so much that I kept a few around once the Summer Of Snacks was over. I gained 8 pounds. Over the period of a month, I gained 8 pounds. Maybe not a lot, in the grand scheme of things, but enough that it was going to take a little focus if I wished to shed them.

Hence, I was nervous when I stepped up on that scale this morning. I've been doing pretty well with the diet and exercise over the last month or so. But, I think we all know that pounds like to come to visit far more than they like to depart. And it's not like I haven't slipped once or twice. Or ten times... This was going to be either a great triumph for aerobically challenged Sheep everywhere or a disaster of epic proportions and one that would forever change the landscape of my jeans.

Well, it turned out to be neither. I've lost 2.5 pounds. Respectable, but nothing earth-shattering. Still, it was a relief to know that I am on the right track at this point. With the holidays right around the corner, this is not the time to find new poundage.

The level of my stress over this matter was made plain during the taking of the Sheepie pulse. 120 beats per minute. Not my personal record, by any stretch of the imagination. I beat that with beats to spare last winter when I had the Mole of Disturbing Dimensions removed. But, it still had the nurse in a bit of a tizzy. Fortunately, my doctor is a bit of a "chatter." She likes to hang out with her patients and visit a spell. This means that I have a good deal of wait-time in between the taking of the pulse and the seeing of the doctor. By the time she got in there, I had successfully managed to bring the racing pulse down to a more reasonable 88 beats per minute. My pulse rate runs high on any given day. I'd say I'm "excitable." But, I seem to spend a great deal of time lolling around on the couch so I'm not really sure just what is going on in cardiac land.

88 bpm was enough to get me out of there without a stress test, so no harm no foul. I give a great deal of the credit to my own sense of inner peace and amazing self control. Oh...and maybe a little to this:

A Humble Homespun Scarf

With socks on the back burner until the holidays are past, scarves are the traveling project of the season. I am in love with this one for the simple reason that it is probably the best yarn I have ever spun. I only wish that there were more knitters (or any knitters) at the doctor's office in order that I might have passed it around like a new puppy or one of those babies that people are always handing off to be admired. Nothing against puppies or babies. Both are delightful in their own unique ways. But a well-spun yarn is more cooperative about being passed around and will not leak any offensive fluids on you. Assuming you've done it right, that is...

With the doctor's visit over, a shiny new prescription in hand and a heart rate that was considered acceptable for the average driver, I was able to head out and run a few errands before heading home for my day of relaxation. I picked up some crackers, some salsa, a bag of bagels...and a carpet deep cleaner. I know, I know. The cleaning thing has gotten a bit out of hand. I'll work on it. After I deal with the carpets. There is kitty goo in there. It must be extracted. Kitty goo can easily migrate into the bathroom that I just spent two days cleaning and I simply won't have that. The living room was sprayed down, scrubbed and the grimy waters sucked back out in short order. Don't be too impressed, though. It's not like I moved any furniture or anything. I just worked around it. The gooey cats moved themselves once they realized my plan for the afternoon.

There was one other purchase made while I was out seeking grime-busting paraphernalia. I have an affection for zip-front, hooded sweatshirts that is deep and abiding. I have a vast collection of these garments and still feel that more would be perfectly reasonable acquisitions. Here's one I found today. Tell me...is this appropriate for a teacher to wear to school on a Friday when the already relaxed dress code becomes pretty much non-existent?

Or is it maybe too much?

I'm wearing it anyway. I just wondered what you think is all...

See you on Saturday!

SA