Monday, September 5, 2016

A New Hobby is at hand.

I'm learning a new art. Ice dying. Basically you bunch up the fabric, cover it in ice, sprinkle powdered dye over it and let the ice melt.
I used an old cream color flat sheet for my first attempt. After 12 hours the ice was melted, ad being curious I took a peek. I wasn't overly impressed, there was to much of the original color showing. So I bunched it back up with the bare patches on top, covered in ice, added dye, and left it alone.
I love how it looks.
unfortunately right now blogspot isn't letting me upload pics right now. I will keep working on it and hopefully it will let me eventually.
after a trip to the park yesterday with Lee we stopped at goodwill to look for a rack I can use in the dying(last time I used the oven rack). I found some fence stuff that will work great. I also went looking at sheets and blankets for me to practice on. I found a couple curtains and a baby blanket to try. I wanted different fabric types and I think these will be fun. One is lace, I'm not sure it will work real well, by I'm going to try.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

It's really not poison


Oh good God.
I left two pain pills out for Lee to take in case the kidney stones hurt him while in an at work.
I get home tonight, he's in bed. I go in to talk to him and he says "I didn't take that poison" . After several minutes of me asking him questions he finally says "those two poison pills you left me, you said they were poison so I didn't take them".
I just want to cry for him. I wish I could get through to him all the time.  My heart breaks when he's like this because I can't help him, I can't fix him, I can't make him all better and as a nurse I should be able to.
But I can't fix this. I can't make him better. Instead I climb into bed next to him, after getting his bed time pills together and convincing him they aren't poison. I give him a kiss and I lay here silently crying as he drifts off to sleep and I listen to his slow, even breathing, my heart full of love, but breaking at the hopelessness I feel.
I am a caregiver. I am a wife. I am a nurse.