Purse by Purse

A few years ago, when the health issues really took a dramatic turn for HP, I kept my calm by knitting simple stuff, in waiting rooms, doctors' offices, operating waiting rooms, intensive care rooms, rehab rooms, and the principle item was the kitty blanket. There were a couple of artworks, too, but the blankie was the core item.

These were about 18 inches square, no two alike, all different colors, stitches, you name it, but all contributing enormously to my equilibrium under a hail of bad news broken up by worse news.

So this last week and a half, which HP's doctor visiting today, confirmed is a new stage, very likely a stroke/seizure with damage that will most likely not repair, has been another crisis time for both of us. He needs much more help now, hand feeding, holding his cup, putting his hand on his spoon, readjusting in his chair in which he can't stay very upright, doing exercises for him that he can't do himself any more. He's angry and upset, which is probably a symptom of stroke. So the calming work for me has to be small and very portable and very interruptible.

Yes, there's serious art going on, too, with a big new weaving in progress, too soon to show you, and others working out in my mind, but this is the forefront busy work.

Enter the cellphone purse. I made one for myself years ago when it was clear that I needed to have a phone at hand all the time without having to look for it or walk off without it, so I made a purse that slung around my neck. Made a couple for gifts for forgetful friends, too.

Anyway, the cellphone purse. Here are a felted one and several crocheted ones, which will probably be foisted off on innocent friends at some point. But meanwhile they've kept me together this week.




And in the last few days some of this collection has appeared, guarded by Duncan, who thinks they are probably advanced kitty toys, along the lines of the kitty blankies. And my own cats still demand to know where all those dozens of blankies WENT, anyway, they didn't get any.

I explained they went to little kittens who didn't have a blankie. Or bowls, or toys or a home, but were in search and the blankie was their first piece of luggage. They were unconvinced. But it's true, and I have a book of pictures of happy feline owners clinging to their blankies with all four paws to prove it. Carol Q. the rescue lady who distributed them to foster homes for cats sent me a wonderful album of them, which I keep with my handmade books and look at frequently.

I now have to make arrangements for more help at home, which I need but would rather not, but needs must. Sigh. Anyway, for the moment we have nursing visits weekly, doctor always on call, and that's good for the moment.

Big thoughts keep on hovering around the outskirts of my mind, like, what if HPs life is coming to an end, what will that mean for everyone, what if he still has years to live, what will that mean for everyone. And so on. I do know that he's in the right place now, and that I need to adjust to the new normal. Again.