I had planned the weekend to be quiet and fruitful. I was going to make a major dent in the shawl work, hopefully knocking out most of the 168 lace rows of the body so I can start the first border on Monday.
You know what they say about plans.
Friday morning the entire plan was negated. Instead, I went in for emergency root canal work on a tooth that is perfectly healthy, except that pressure mysteriously built up inside of it.
I don’t relate to dentistry well. In fact it has gone past absolute fear into absolute phobia. The panic starts the minute I know I’m headed to the dentist.
Because of my extreme phobia, I have a very good dentist who specializes in people like me. I mean how many dentist’s offices have a meditation room, massaging dental chairs, a tv in every room, and head phones where you can listen to any type of music you want? I always choose the spa music channel. She also has nice soft pillows to fit around your neck. Cozy, soothing, blankets, and eye pads that keep the harsh dental light out of your eyes.
So Friday was a lost cause. Between pain meds and the terror of going through the root canal, I was totally spent.
Saturday dawned and I was still drained. This time with the lingering hangover from having gotten my nerves so strung out plus I was still on the pain medication.
Now it’s Sunday and I am feeling more myself and I plan to tackle the shawl as soon as I figure out what the hell the immature red tail hawk is doing. He is extremely immature, I can tell by his markings, but I am not sure that his mind is all there. He flew into and got tangled up in the butterfly bush early this morning. He can fly from tree to tree, but he doesn’t go into the upper branches like hawks do so they can see their food source. So far he’s swooped down and pounced on a stick, which he then preceded to play with for 15 minutes. Jumping away from it, then pouncing back on it. He also swooped down and pounced on a rather large leaf and exhibited the same playing movements.
He sits in the trees and will cry for hours. When he’s not crying, he’s sleeping. He shows no fear of us and I am wondering if he’s getting enough food. I don’t eat meat or flesh of any kind, but The Skipper has a big steak in the fridge for his dinner tonight. I am wondering if I cut a nice slab off, and if I can locate some falconry gloves, if the hawk would eat out of my hand. I have some knowledge of hawking.
Like I said, I am planning on working on the shawl today and knitting does require two hand and two arms that are working. But the hawk is once again awake. I’m going to call around the neighborhood. Somebody must have falconry gloves they can lend me.