Spica Fever

So greetings, one and all. Sorry I haven’t been updating recently, but my right hand’s been a little under the weather. The tendonitis has been getting progressively worse since it first cropped up in May, to the point where I was referred a hand surgeon, who evaluated it this morning. I have a brand new spica splint, this one molded to my hand. I’ve also received a cortisone shot, along with an appointment to be re-evaluated in a month. No improvement by then equals probable surgical outcome. I’d be worried that this is going to cramp my interview mojo, but considering my job applications have yet to make it to the interview stage that probably isn’t going to be a problem.

On the plus side, I’m going to try and show my devil-may-care side by getting some funky socks to wear under the spica. I’m thinking maybe some argyle, or maybe Pippi Longstocking stripes. I’ll have to hunt around in the discount stores to see what’s cheap and available.


As for LGS, she is now officially rechristened as SLFC (Satan’s Little Fart Cloud). We are three lime sulfur baths into the new treatment, which happily seems to be working. She has good secondary hair growth in all her lesions, although no primary growth has appeared yet. Even baby steps towards recovery are positive at this point. If she stays on track, we’ll run a culture her the beginning of September. If that one is clear, there will be a second culture the end of September. And if that one is clear, I’m planning a jail-break party for SLFC for mid-October.

Meanwhile, each successive bath turns her under-coat yellow. The yellow wears off after a period of time, but it seems to take longer after each bath to wear off. Fortunately the smell seems to wear off faster than the color. In all honesty, I’m sorry I didn’t take this approach from day of diagnosis. It might have been nastier, but SLFC would have been out of quarantine and basking in the pools of mid-morning sunlight instead of spending her early a.m. hours screaming for attention while locked in a bathroom whose windows face north.

Yeah, I’ m feeling guilty.


There is a local craft show in mid-September in the small town I grew up in about five minutes from where I live now. Yesterday I had contemplated trying to get enough beads together to man a booth, but I’m going to have to seriously go over my inventory to see what I’ve got that might pass muster. I don’t know if I have enough to actually set up shop, and with my right hand in bondage I’m not sure how much I can add to my current stock. I have discovered that while most of my beads don’t have a center hole large enough to fit the current Chamilia/Pandora/Troll bracelets (I’ve only got one mandrel that is the right size), most will easily fit inexpensive slender chains. If I can pull fifty or so of those together, I’ll see how much it would cost to rent a booth. I might be able to flesh out the stock with pink ribbon and paw-print beads, both of which are popular. I’ve been working on the paw-print style as a potential fund raiser for the cat shelter I volunteer for; making them available at the booth for an inexpensive price might pull some traffic over and garner some pity sales. I plan to spend part of tomorrow evaluating what I’ve got and estimating what I’d need to price things at to make the loss of a Saturday in September worthwhile. An eight foot spot would cost me $20 … a rod of glass costs between 1 and three dollars … a tank of gas makes between four and two dozen beads, depending on complexity … I have no idea how to factor in stuff like bead release, anneal time and artistic talent. Guess I’ll be spending at least part of the day tomorrow on Etsy to see what artists of equivalent talent charge for their wares. And I’ll have to price out a supply of inexpensive chains. Gads, and then I’ll have to figure out how to display wares – that’s going to up the costs. I’m already thinking this isn’t going to pay.

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