Pop Goes The Sheepie

I'd had my eye on the weather reports since yesterday.  Hence, I knew that there would be some tricky driving this morning.  But, I am nothing if not wholeheartedly devoted to teaching the children of America and fully planned on braving whatever Mother Nature saw fit to hurl upon us.  

Someday, they'll make a movie about me.  

Still, I wasn't all that disappointed to hear a two hour delay announced in order to see if we couldn't maybe get a bus or two on site without incident.  There was more of the white stuff involved than was called for and sleet was soon to follow.  Plus, this meant that I could enjoy my morning coffee and breakfast sandwich from the comfort of my couch rather than the driver's seat and that made me pretty darned happy.

So happy, in fact, that I gave a nice, long, contented stretch from my seat on that couch.  And that's when it happened.  When I tell the story in real life tomorrow, I shall probably say that I actually heard the, "pop."  That can't really be true.  But, I certainly did feel it.

I almost hate to admit that this isn't the first time this has happened.  In truth, it has happened a couple of times.  And from the same exact spot on the couch, now that I think about it.  Apparently, this is where my aged body likes to fail me.  And it always happens the same way.  There is the moment where I realize that something has popped in a way that it really shouldn't.  I wait.  Nothing happens.  I get cocky.  I think I've gotten away with my haphazard use of contented stretching.  And then reality sets in.  Or, as I like to call it, The Cold, Creeping Clench.  It starts low in the back, gripping and twisting gleefully.  Then it travels up a bit, all the while maintaining a death grip on whatever muscles happen to be in its path.  I can't even breathe for a minute...

There is no getting around it.  I am too old for such vigorous activities as stretching.  Sometimes I forget that.  I think that I am youthful and spry, that I can leap tall buildings and maybe even touch my toes should the need ever arise.  I'm kind of a hopeful Sheepie that way.

It's a temporary Clench, thankfully.  With the liberal application of heat and over-the-counter pain killers, I'm good to go in a few hours.  Assuming, that is, I don't do anything crazy like turn to the right or try to visit the restroom.  (As of this writing, we are in fine form and only a little bit stiff.)

Happily, the phone was within easy reach of my now rigid self and I could call the school to report my absence for the day.  The computer was also already turned on as I was double-checking the delayed start times so I could email my Cheerful Teaching Assistant and give her some helpful tips for getting through the shortened day.  Then I sat for a few hours.  

This was probably all for the best as it is my understanding that the roads were really quite hideous for much of the morning.  It would not have been a fun commute and probably too long for someone who would have gone into spasms should she have a need to check the side mirrors.  

The day of rest from my paying labors was not wasted, however.  I got to spend some time reading and finished "Duma Key."  This means that I can sleep again without all that tossing and turning and wondering how it will all come out.  I also spent some quality time with "New Pathways For Sock Knitters" and am giving serious thought to erecting some sort of shrine to Cat Bordhi.  She can't be human.  She was clearly placed on this earth to show us a higher path.  

I, on the other hand, do not walk a higher path and will never inspire wool wranglers to reach new heights.  But, I did finish another baby sweater.  With the demise of two baby blankets over the weekend, I was desperate to do something in crochet as part of my parade of wee, tiny things.  Thus, I threw caution to the wind, crocheted a bunch of shapes that seemed to mimic a small person and came up with this:

Crocheted Baby Sweater For Long-Armed Babies

Hey, the kid could have long arms, right?  If not, Niece Sheep is quite stylish.  It isn't too much of a stretch to think that her son will have the ability to roll up his sleeves in a casual and rakish manner incorporated into his DNA.  I need to believe this so let's all just go with one of those theories, 'kay?

In addition to being long of sleeve, this is something of a "sturdy" sort of garment.  In single crochet and of worsted weight acrylic, it is built to withstand the ages.  If the little feller ever happens to find himself in need of a bullet-proof vest, I am pleased to report that he will have one close to hand.  Plus, how much do babies need to move around anyway?  It's not like they have to conduct orchestras or direct traffic on a regular basis, after all.  A heavy sweater isn't going to be a hinderance to someone who doesn't have to walk to work.  

All in all, I rather like it.  It has a button.  I normally don't place buttons all that well and this one is in the right spot so I'm happy.  It's going into the "finished" pile and that's that.  

So, you see, it wasn't a wasted day at all.  Sure, I couldn't move for a couple of hours and the Big, Fluffy Kitty wasn't all that thrilled by the state of her litter box or by being awakened periodically by my Spasm Squeals.  But, I managed to make lemonade out of the lemons so I send out a hearty, "Neener-Neener" to Karma and her latest attempt at thwarting my good humor.  

Which I shall need.  The wild weather is going to be back tomorrow afternoon.  Same stuff, different day.  And no well-timed Creeping Clench to save me from the exciting commute...

SA