Lots going on here in my little corner of the blogosphere. So much, in fact, that this summer whizzed by without a single blog post since June. So I have to ask, Does this thing still work? And is anybody still out there?

Because very soon I will be leaving this:

For this:

And this natural splendor will be left behind:

In exchange for splendor of a very different kind:

And instead of seeing these on my way out the front door:

I’ll be seeing these:

Just in case you haven’t already figured it out, we are moving to Chicago. My husband has accepted a new job there that starts right after Labor Day weekend. As soon as our California house has sold, I will join him there. It promises to be a strange autumn, and I’ve no doubt that knitting will help keep me sane.

More new designs are on the needles (that’s one thing I managed to accomplish this summer) that I’ll share over the next few weeks. Stay tuned for more details about the relocation!

I had foot surgery today to remove a neuroma that had been causing me lots of pain for over a year. The worst part of the surgery was the anaesthesia injections. My daughter could hear me yelling from out in the waiting room.

And this follows last week’s cortisone injection in my spine for a herniated disc (on the heels of the cortisone injection, one might say).

The good news is that Shadow is keeping an eye on me. Now if only I can train her to refresh my ice pack every couple of hours… and maybe to bring me a little bowl of ice cream once in a while when I’m feeling sorry for myself.

I should be back in action again after a weekend of elevated foot and minimal activity. If I ever needed an excuse to be a couch potato, this is it. It’s never going to get any better than this.

Today is my parents’ 55th wedding anniversary… quite a milestone for any couple, but perhaps especially so given that the last year has been a difficult one for Lily and Herb. Their health has suffered, and they have endured a seemingly endless winter. But they are still alive despite the odds, and still together.

This photo was taken in 1968 or 1969, by which time they had already been married for about 12 years, already had their three daughters, and had already built their dream house. Inside the cover of this photo, my mom had written “Best looking couple at the office party,” and I do not doubt her word.

Their first decade together was during the “Mad Men” years, and my mother was every bit as lovely and put-together as Betty Draper (but so much nicer and more loving that there is no other basis for comparison). How she managed to do this with three little girls demanding her attention, I’ll never know.

My dad worked on Wall St. rather than Madison Ave., but he was home by six o’clock every evening secure in the knowledge that dinner would be on the table fifteen minutes after he walked in the door. And my mother never failed to run a brush through her hair and freshen her lipstick a few minutes before his arrival. It was another era to be sure, but it worked for them.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Yesterday I ventured out into the rain to the post office, where I mailed a large padded envelope containing a light scarf. I used the post office’s time-saving Automated Postal System machine in the outer lobby, which I do as often as possible to avoid the long lines inside. Excellent – check one chore off the list.

From that point on, rain literally spewed down from the sky like Niagara Falls at full capacity, complete with high winds and hail. Open-your-mouth-facing-skyward-and-you’ll-drown kind of rain. I enjoyed watching it from indoors, knowing I didn’t have to go back outside.

Then today’s mail arrived, including the very same large padded envelope that I had posted just yesterday. Returned due to “Insufficient Postage.” How, you might ask, is this possible, when I had used the U.S. Postal System’s own automated postal machine, located on the premises of our local post office? Well, I wondered that myself.

I returned with said envelope to the post office today (still raining, though fortunately not as hard as yesterday’s deluge) and stepped up to the counter with this very question. The personality-free postal employee informed me that the size of my padded envelope meant it was not actually, despite all appearances to the contrary, an envelope, but instead had mysteriously been designated a “parcel.”

This, despite the fact that it was totally flat, padded, and contained an adhesive flap at one end. Oh, silly me. How could I possibly have mistaken this article for an envelope when obviously it’s a parcel?

Of course, “parcels” are more expensive to mail than “envelopes.” And of course, nowhere on the Automated Postal System’s machine does it tell the unsuspecting individual anything whatsoever about this bizarre and seemingly arbitrary fact. So, I ponied up the additional postage and headed back out into the rain, muttering under my breath.

Shadow just wants to know why nobody licks envelope flaps anymore – licking being a special talent of hers.