About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Friday, August 13, 2010

So, the way to hear from my family...

Is to mangle a reference Harry Potter or to leave the S’more kit leftovers [of which there are a plethora] in my cubicle at work. Good to know.

Pray for frost, my blessings. If I tried to bring the 18(!!!) unopened Hershey bars home now, Lorelai would do an excellent impression of a chocolate fondue fountain.

I have an amusing HMO story to tell you. Those of you who are regular readers know that I have been wrangling with athlete’s foot for over two years, with varying degrees of success. When I had my well-woman last month, she looked at my foot and tut-tutted. And said that before she prescribed another week of Diflucan, she wanted to see my liver function tests.

I called back last Thursday, and her part of the practice was closed for the weekend. So I called back bright and early Monday morning and left a message for the nurse, who conferred with Doctor, who said my liver is just dandy, and we are going to try Lamisil, instead. They phoned it in to my neighborhood pharmacy, and I went by after work (and Zeke’s) to pick it up. The pharmacy tech apologized profusely and said that it wasn’t ready, would I mind waiting a few minutes?

Since (unlike other occasions) my feet were giving me relatively little grief, I smiled all the way up from my toes and told her I'd be back in the morning. Which I was, to be greeted by a different pharmacy tech who told me that my HMO had not approved it, and that Doctor needed to call them and explain why it was medically necessary, otherwise it was going to be $64.

Oye. I went to work and left them a message, only to have my cell phone die, and my charger back here in Fort Worth. After I charged my phone and checked my messages, my doctor’s office was quite naturally closed for the evening. So I called them back in the morning, and the nurse told me she had no idea what was up with the HMO, because it is a $4 generic prescription at Wal-Mart: would I like them to fax the Rx there?

Sixty dollars would buy a whole lot of yarn, so yes please.

Rather like the difference between “Diagon Alley” and “diagonally,” wouldn’t you say?

In other news, I think I finally have a workable idea for Chutzpah’s skirt. I have taken two scraps of lace leftover from Celeste’s silk necktie skirt and am embellishing them to a fare-thee-well. Beading may ensue. I wonder if I could make her a pair of sandals using silk ribbon for the straps and Ultrasuede or leather bits for the soles? Does anybody have two postage stamp sized scraps of mossy green Ultrasuede hanging about in your fabric stash?

[Hey, you don’t ask, you don’t get. If all else fails, I can always knit up and felt a bit of fabric for the soles.]

Happy Friday the Thirteenth, everybody!

2 comments:

Jenni said...

Look at it this way, three of your children regulary read your blog!

Bonnie said...

I'm fresh out of ultrasuede, but I'll second what Jenni put. I read, but sometimes I have no useful comments to contribute. But Harry Potter, that I can help you with. :)