well-stated in january

quotations featured this month on what maisie knows

“I want to appreciate the health, happiness, and home-life, and the people and pets, that I am so lucky to have. I want to be more generous and helpful, because I haven't felt like I've had much to offer anybody lately. I want to be a better friend and listen more when people are talking. I want my shoulders to relax because they're just riding so high it's giving me a sore neck. I want to be outside more. I want to cook more and eat healthier. I want to have patience. I want to trust my intuition again, and have more faith in myself. I want to not always feel so left behind. I want to be more free, and even brave. I want to give more love than I do. Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace. That is my wish for 2012.”
- Alicia Paulson, Posie Gets Cozy.  From her moving and beautiful New Year's post.

"Getting an inch of snow is like winning 10 cents in the lottery."
- Bill Watterson

"I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place, is taking considerable many resks, though I ain't had no experience, and can't say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and yet here's a case where I'm blest if it don't look to me like the truth is better, and actually safer, than a lie. I must lay it by in my mind, and think it over some time or other, it's so kind of strange and unregular. I never see nothing like it. Well, I says to myself at last, I'm a-going to chance it; I'll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see where you'll go to."
- Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn


(cartoon from Zoom-Comics)

a matched pair

my own phlebotomy experience

You may recall that I mentioned having come up as a potential match for someone who needs a bone marrow transplant. Last week, I had blood drawn for further testing to determine how close a match I might be (and to verify that I don't have any blood-borne infectious diseases).

I lucked out and ended up with a terrific phlebotomist. After pronouncing that my veins were tiny,* she declared that she likes a challenge and proceeded to hit the vein on the first try.

And when she was done, she dressed my arm using neon pink vet wrap, just like Izzy's!

Here, as proof: this very strange photo.**

Now I'll wait for up to two months to hear if I'm indeed the best match. I'm okay either way. If it turns out that I'm chosen as the donor, I'll be happy to help. If not, it's been interesting to learn more about this process. No matter what, I'll send a prayer out that all will go well for the patient.

*I'd rather have tiny thighs.
**I should have been able to realize this without having to actually try it, but taking an attractive photo of one's own arm is impossible.

recovery

a tale of two temporary invalids

We, meaning Isabel and I (Maisie has been happy, healthy, and hungry as ever, thank heavens), have been under the weather these past few days.

Right after I noted that Izzy's been doing great lately, her appetite dropped off and she had a few episodes of vomiting. The explanation, discovered incidentally on last week's routine labs, turned out to be another urinary tract infection.

As for me, after making it past mid-January without a single virus-induced sniffle, I was feeling grateful and just a little smug about the robustness of my immune system. And then . . .

Friday I noticed an increasingly scratchy throat . . .

and Saturday nasal congestion descended like a tidal wave . . .

and by Sunday, I was so achy and miserable and fatigued that any activity except lying in bed sounded like too much to undertake.

But now that Izzy's on an antibiotic and I've had rest, plenty of liquids, and time, we're both getting better each day. Izzy ate all but a few pieces of food in her bowl today. I'm pleased to be more energetic and able to smell and taste again, and I'm newly grateful for (but no longer smug) about that immune system.

just enough

perfect snow

"A light snow last night, / and now the earth falls open to a fresh page."

- Billy Collins, from "Ornithography"

Happy Friday!

We had a beautiful winter day today. Last night about two inches of snow fell, but the morning dawned crisp and sunny. The snow was powdery and crunchy under foot, and as my boss astutely observed, there was just enough to be pretty without interfering with the day.

Last winter, my snow boots sprang a leak (as I finally surmised after noticing the toes of my socks kept getting wet), so I ordered a new pair back in the fall. I've been convinced that my having a brand new pair of boots waiting to be used has been the reason for our peculiarly snow-less winter thus far. I just learned of another person with a new pair of boots, however, and a third who has brand new skis, so apparently the responsibility is shared.

I decided on Bean Boots this time. After wearing them all day today, including for the 3.4-mile round trip between home and work, I understand their fabled status. My feet have been happy: warm and dry, with nary a twinge of discomfort.

stymied

isabel meets vet wrap

Tonight Isabel the Princess Kitty went in to the veterinary hospital for some follow-up labs. She's been doing very well for the past couple months, thank goodness, but was sick in late October with a quite severe kidney infection.

We were lucky enough to get one of the best vet techs today. When Izzy had some oozing from the blood draw site, rather than subject her to several minutes of having her leg held (a prospect of which Izzy was definitely not in favor), the tech quickly applied a pressure dressing using a gauze pad and this marvelous stretchy, self-sticking stuff called vet wrap. She instructed me to leave it on for about 30 minutes.

Once we got home, Izzy, who's never had occasion to wear such a dressing before, was understandably perplexed about the thing on her leg. First she hopped around for a bit on three legs, shaking her bandaged leg vigorously.

When that didn't work, she next applied herself diligently to the characteristically feline solution of trying to lick the offending item off.

Lick, lick. Pink bandage, pink tongue.

Lick, lick, lick.

Pink bandage, pink tongue, pink tummy. (Izzy, who if human might be diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, overgrooms her abdomen.)

"Why so many pictures?"

"How 'bout doing something more useful? Like taking this thing off?"

"Fine. I'll just live like this forever."

"Whew! Finally."

In other interesting medically-related news, I received a call this evening from the Be the Match Marrow Registry. I've been part of the registry for about 15 years, since signing up during medical school, but for the first time, I came up as a possible match for someone. They asked me to fill out a health questionnaire, which I did tonight, and said I'd hear back in three to four weeks if I turn out to be the best match for the patient in question. We'll see what happens!

and there was light

welcome, pretty lamp

I'd had my eye on the Gemma lamp for ages now. Part of her allure for me, I've realized, is her name. What more perfect moniker than Gemma for an old-fashioned, wasp-waisted lady such as she? Those product naming people are wily indeed.

When Gemma went on sale last week "for a limited time," I couldn't help but snap her up. She was waiting for me in the front foyer when I got home today, and right away, even before poor Maisie got her dinner (sorry, Maisie!), I set her up in the kitchen corner for which I intended her.

Such a difference her gentle glow makes in that formerly dim and shadowy locale! I basked in her radiance during dinner.

Dinner, by the way, was leftover pad see ew from Zenna Noodle Bar in Brookline, to which I was introduced last night by my friend, Eileen. If you live around here and haven't been, I highly recommend! Delicious.

the solace of tea

wintry mornings

Recently I discovered Harney & Sons' SoHo tea. The distinctive lilac and black tin first caught my eye - the tea buying analogue of judging a book by its cover, I suppose - but it was upon reading "notes of chocolate and coconut" that I was sold.

Happily, the book lives up to its cover. The tea is delicate and light, suited to porcelain cups, quiet conversation, Chopin preludes. The promised flavors of chocolate and coconut are delectable and subtle. Breathing in the aroma upon opening the tin is an experience in itself.

Mornings these days: Emerge from bed after too many snoozes. Immediately don bathrobe and felted wool slippers. Make quick trip to the loo* (my, that seat gets cold!). Serve breakfast to hopeful, big-eyed Maisie. Boil water; start tea brewing. Give medications to gently grumbling Isabel, who is as enthusiastic about waking as I. Then crawl gratefully back into still-warm bed to sip tea, eat yogurt, solve a Jumble, with Izzy dozing in my lap.

*Use of this Briticism is justified as this post features tea.

restorative

brief reflections on ballet

Happy Friday! The idea for this piece started floating around in my head last fall. One night in late October, my ballet teacher announced that the school was seeking perspectives from adult students to feature in a blog post. That provided the push I needed to finally put my thoughts down on paper. (The web team wanted only excerpts, so just the last paragraph ended up being included on the ballet school's blog.)

Slipping my feet into canvas slippers acts like a quiet switch, shifting my mind into ballet mode. I perform a few simple stretches before class and feel calmer, more focused. I hear the lyrical opening bars of the piano, ease into the familiar motions of the first pliés, and the cares of the world fall away, at least for these 90 minutes.

I believe ballet works its magic in a variety of ways. One is surely the wonderful endorphin surge that accompanies any exercise. Others, however, seem pretty particular to ballet itself. Concentrating on the intricacies of a combination prevents you from dwelling on troubles outside the studio, whatever they might be. Jumping, turning, or trying a new step (while laughing at your own ineptitude) serves as an opportunity for whimsy and a chance to play, both rarities in adult life. And focusing on physical grace and lightness seems to cultivate those qualities internally, as well.

As much as I love ballet, I’m sometimes tempted after a long or frustrating day to stay home rather than venturing out to class, especially when it’s cold or rainy or snowy (or not uncommonly in Boston, all three). I’ve learned not to trust that feeling. No matter how tired my body or dispirited my mood, I can’t recall a single time that I didn’t leave class feeling better than when I came.


(photo by Lucía Sáenz, on Flickr)

bounce!

a much-loved hamster

Possibly the cutest pet adoption update we've received to date:

Hi Berry,

Here is a picture of Bounce and me. Bounce is now 10 months old. Bounce doesn't bite. She is a very good hamster. My mom calls her Hammy. Daddy calls her "the mouse" and won't hold her. He says, "He will bite me" - he doesn't even know Bounce is a girl!

Bounce likes to hide in the sofa cushions, and I like to find her. She looks so adorable when she sits on her hind legs and begs for a treat. Sometimes she just wants to play. I play with her everyday.

Berry, do you know if hamsters like other hamsters because I don't think so. I made a clay model of a hamster and Bounce tried to eat it!

Veronica

Berry is an MSPCA adoption center staff member and apparently the one who helped Veronica and her family to adopt Bounce.

Oh, the scorn for that poor dad! Withering.

(photo by family of Veronica and Bounce)

an evening in the life

on hubris and plumbing

I'd gone for a run after work and had already fed Maisie, eaten dinner, and showered by 7 o'clock. I had a blog post already planned (not this one) and was congratulating myself on being on track to have a productive evening and early bedtime.* And then, unexpectedly (okay, I realize this never happens expectedly), the toilet backed up.**

Bad: I realized a toilet plunger is one of those things you never miss until you need one. And that no, neither my landlord nor former tenants happened to have left one in the basement.

Good: Google is awesome. I typed in "makeshift toilet plunger" and discovered that dishwashing detergent and hot water plus/minus some vigorous motion with a toilet brush can unclog a toilet in a plunger-less pinch. I'm not sure whether any one or all of those did the trick, but something did.

A toilet plunger has been added to the shopping list.


*Early bedtimes remain an elusive but sought-after goal.
**Dad, I swear that I didn't use too much toilet paper and don't know what went wrong.

2012 calendars

Pretty new calendars for the new year.

For work, I enjoyed the elegant calendar by Satsuma Press so much last year that I chose the 2012 calendar by the same artist.

For home, this delicate creation from Moontree Press and Studio Carta. They offer matching blank books, too. So far I've managed to resist.

it's alive!

The blog, that is. Not the wooden dove.

Happy New Year, dear friends! If you're reading this, I know it means you're remarkably loyal because you've not given up on what maisie knows despite its long hibernation. Thank you. To all of you who've gently said, "I miss reading the blog" or "You must be busy lately," you've made me feel so pleased to realize you enjoy and missed my natterings here.

I hope this first day of the new year has been peaceful and bright. As I write, I'm sitting at home in Boston, cozy in a voluminous flannel nightgown with Isabel the princess kitty curled up on my lap. For the first time, I didn't spend Christmas with my family. Sachi, Erik, and the kids are with my parents in Hawaii, but alas, I couldn't go, for Isabel would have needed to go, too (she requires daily medications yet would bite anyone else who tried to administer them), an impossibility due to Hawaii's pet quarantine requirements.

I've missed everyone, of course, but I've also been savoring the quiet days at home. I've still been seeing everyone via the wonder that is FaceTime. I watched Aidan and Kayleigh open their presents on Christmas morning. Both kids have been more enamored with seeing the kitty girls - Kayleigh tries to pet them on Sachi's iPad screen - than seeing me, which I don't mind at all; that iPhone/iPad video camera is surely unflattering.

I love the week between Christmas and New Year's Day. Mostly I've been existing in a state of extreme laziness, doing oodles of non-mind-improving reading, sleeping in and staying in pajamas till late in the day. I had a multitude of projects planned for the vacation, but I always forget while making those plans how much less appealing the projects become compared to alternatives like reading another romance novel.

Fortunately, my usual New Year's inspired cleaning compulsions did come upon me over the past few days, so I have completed some worthy tasks like purging and organizing my exercise clothes and cleaning cupboards and countertops. I've done a bit of baking and cooking. (I made these cupcakes; they required dirtying a fair number of pots and bowls, but they're worth it.) I've also been pretty good about my vacation goal of running more regularly. Running makes me happy. I need to remind myself of that when I'm tempted to make other things higher priorities. Or maybe I need to just put on my shoes and go before I have a chance to come up with excuses.

My other goal was to start off the new year by resuscitating this poor blog. Writing it makes me happy, too.