Well it's been the All I See Dead People Channel, All The Time around here, and I'm ready to move on back to some yarny goodness and let all the sad stuff sink back to the murky depths of Not On My Blog.

I have FIBER!



There are some other clubs I belong to as well, and this is what was waiting for me when I got home from all the sad stuff.


Spinning Bunny yarn

Spunky Eclectic roving

Funky Carolina roving.

There was also some Sumptuous Sock Yarn in there, but I can't get the colors to come out right, so I'll wait till I can do them justice. I am a huge fan of the sock and fiber club. It is like free fiber. Except not free because you paid for it, but long enough ago that you've forgotten the pain.

I tell ya, having all that yarn on the dining room table was enough to get ME to forget the pain. Not to mention the kids baked a gorgeous cake for my return, took me out to C&O for pasta and I was plied with Chianti until I was nice and relaxed. I love my little family. I missed them!

I got a great whack of knitting finished when I was away dealing with all the funerary fun. No idle hands, here.



Liesel, which is being worked in "Ivory" Handmaiden Casbah Sock, and a pair of spiral ribbed socks being worked in "Spinel" BMFA lightweight, and a little stripe of "Tanzanite" at the top. No internet access and a lot of emotional turmoil are goooood for the finishing of the objects.

Last but not least, my BMFA Rockin Sock Club yarn arrived and I have put it at the bottom of this post here, so as not to spoil it for anyone. It's GORGEOUS. I love it. I can't wait to knit with it.



My trip to parts north culminated yesterday in meeting friends at Zachary's for pizza in Berkeley and then a pre-airport dash to Dark Carnival to load up on books. I almost had to jettison my clothes, as a result. That is a dangerous bookstore. The flight back to LA was pretty uneventful, except for the part where I was convinced we were all going to die because of turbulence on our descent. I think that might have been the worst flight ever, or the worst 20 minutes of an otherwise okay flight.



Seriously.

It's so good to be home.

I should probably elaborate on my funeral musings, lest people think I was singularly insensitive and unmoved by the occasion. Let me first say, that I am really profoundly bothered by open casket funerals. Death, I think, is private.

We get to the chapel, and there is my grandpa, lying there for all the world to see. It took me a full 10 minutes to work up the courage to walk IN to the room. I could not look, it was hard and emotionally scary to see MY grandpa like that. So I sat and tried to act like it was ok and not look. Meanwhile, everyone else was walking up, kissing him goodbye, tucking stuff in his pockets and talking about how "wonderful" he looked. And folks, he looked NOT like my grandpa. He looked dead. And that was not wonderful to me. He was wearing too much makeup. He looked like a wax doll. I did not like it. I did not want to be there, in that room with a dead grandpa. I felt about six. I felt a pout coming on.

Everyone kept offering to hold my hand and walk up with me, so I could pay my respects. But I had paid my respects by buying a plane ticket, renting a car, writing a eulogy and showing up. I paid my respects by speaking.

I did not want to be there in that room, with a dead grandpa in it. I did not want to tuck candy in his pocket or kiss his cold cheek. I respected him enough to not want to see him like that. That is not how I want to remember him and now my last vision of him is cold, dead, in a box, in a suit I never saw before, wearing too much makeup.

MY grandpa did not wear makeup, he wore cardigan sweaters and he was not cold.

My elderly auntie and other relatives kept saying, "he is only sleeping. He's just sleeping peacefully."

And THAT is when I lost my shit a little bit and said that NO, he is dead. And that it was ok, because at 92 you can be dead and it is sad, but not something to gloss over with platitudes. It just is.

Part of life.

Not sleeping.

Cue insensitive (but funny in my brain) comment about how if he wakes up I am aiming for the head. And yes, listening to Lime & Violet's "Jesus is coming" bit on the plane at 6am that morning DID plant that one in my subconscious, I am sure.

Auntie looked upset. I apologized and said yes, he looks peaceful. Auntie pretended she had not heard zombie humor. I pretended he looked wonderful. Family harmony prevailed.

At 92, I feel like, he's doing what is natural. His knees don't hurt now. He never has to be sad again, or worry or be lonely. And that is okay, at 92. I don't mind that he passed on. We all do. May we be so lucky to live so long and so well. Don't have to pretend it is a nap. And for god's sake, let it be private and let the dead have their dignity. Which is why, naturally, I reacted with the I'm so going to hell now humor. Because I am all about the dignity.

I did go look. I did say goodbye and pat his stiff shoulder. I wish I had stuck to my guns and remembered him living instead.

Then we all drank punch, ate ham and it was over.

I have knit a sock and 12 repeats of Liesel. I want to go home and see my kids and my kittens. I do not want to be here any more.

I am safely in the Central Valley, for my Grandpa's funeral. This is my one chance to be online and the connection is glacial. I have a lot of email to return when I get home. If you have not heard from me, don't be offended. Cows move faster than the DSL out here.

One note. WHen at a family funeral, and an aging aunt tells you that the deceased is "just sleeping." just SMILE AND NOD.

Do not tell her that no, he's really dead. In a box.

Do not elaborate and tell her that if he wakes up and tries to get OUT of the box, that you are going to "aim for the head."

This will make your aging relative uncomfortable. This is bad manners. Save the zombie jokes for the wake. When everyone is drunk.

The funeral was lovely. Zombie jokes aside.

ABC along

The ABC along is helping to save my sanity. Allow me to explai... er, no. It would take too long. Let me sum up. Everything that could go wrong with my grandfather's funeral, thus far, has gone wrong, culminating in my not being able to traverse the Grapevine because of snow, therefore not being able to get to the funeral.

To this end, I am flying out freakishly early in the morning, renting a car and driving like a bat out of hell to where the funeral is being held. And I declare the obstacles to be DONE because I need to get there now, with no further hijinks, no more hilarity and absolutely no more arse marmotry.

I give you B.

B is for...

Buddha and also Bottles


Guanyin is actually a Bodhisattva and not the Buddha. But please note that one of the Buddhas is holding a bunny and "bunny" starts with "b." And bottles are cool. The more vintage, colorful or interesting, the better.

and BAD. as in, "BAD KITTY. Not on the counter."

Go ahead, punk. Make my day!

So what are the top ten blogs you read every day? Your "Make My Day" bloggers? I have so many on my blogroll, some are good friends and others are people I haven't yet met but enjoy a great deal. I pretty much squee and jump to read all of the blogs on my blogroll, but these are ten that really do make my day when a post comes up.

L.A. Is My Beat! Ellen Bloom's blog about fiber and her adventures around town.

The Yarn Harlot Well, duh.

Crazy Aunt Purl Who doesn't love a little CAP?

Enchanting Juno

Back Yard art, inspiration, and yarny goodness. It's a daily treat, especially since she's blogging more these days about her 101/1001 journey. I am particularly enjoying the ATCs and general creative goodness.

Franklin Dolores, talking sock yarn and all around very funny, nifty guy.

Eating L.A. LA-centric eats.

The Smitten Kitchen OMG swoonworthy recipes, pictures and tutorials. Food Porn extreme.

The Rotund Fat positive commentary, acceptance and health at any size. This girl got mad props in the NYT article about blogging in the fatosphere yesterday, and I am SO proud of her. She works hard.

#10 is... well you know who you are, sweetie. :-)

How pleased am I??

I am so pleased with the results of my studio day! While I am sure that it will relax a bit after I set the twist, it's still really plied about as tightly as I wanted and I think the skein is fairly balanced. It is exactly what I was going for. I'm so pleased.

I spun two bobbins - being careful to preserve the colors and paying attention to the transitions and then plied the bobbins together so they lined up - things not being exact, of course, I have some of one bobbin left over. Suppose I'll andean ply that together later and have a mini skein to add to the project. Lovely transitions that will heather up between the stretches of color. It's going to be a lovely scarf. I think it's going to bloom really nicely and be nice and squooshy soft when it dries.





Have not decided which fiber I want to spin up for February's skein. Am going to rummage through bins later today and ponder the question. Will probably take the last of that Strawberry Fields that I've had languishing on the Bossie forever, and finish it while I'm at Mom's over the weekend. I'm sure there'll be a good bit of downtime from funeral business where I'll want something in my hands.

Studio day today.

Completed an ATC, did a little art journaling, played with some ideas and different media, rewrote my grandfather's eulogy, then finished spinning up the wool from Sachi and got a lovely squooshy two ply DK weight yarn out of the dealio. So there is January's skein.

A few goals met - if not crossing anything off the master list, it was at least all going towards satisfying a few of the ongoing tasks.

Pictures tomorrow when I have natural light to take them in.

Grandma Thelma died on Sunday, I just found out tonight. She was not really my grandma, but she was my dad's sister's mother in law and I spent a great deal of time around her when I was younger. I didn't see her at all in later years, so do not grieve for myself, but I feel badly for my cousins and aunt and uncle. They were a close knit family and saw her often. We all lost our in common grandmother just about this time last year and it brought our little family back together a bit. Now I have lost my grandfather and they have lost their grandmother and we are all suddenly orphan grandchildren, all of us cousins, all in the space of one short weekend. It is an odd and sad synchronicity.

I will be lighting a candle for Thelma tonight.

Life, it goes on, and we are all fleeting things, really. I guess that makes the connections we make all the more precious.

Today was the big show at MOCA. My girl had a piece in the SICKNASTY show that was an adjunct to the Murakami exhibit. That piece will go into a larger, multi-school showing after the 2nd, which is when the SICKNASTY thing wraps up.



I am not sure what we'll be doing with it when it comes home from the museum. I don't think I want a 5' tall mushroom with huge googly eyes, in my living room. It might put me off my morning tea. It might even, dare I say it, displace yarn.



Some of the work was quite directly derivative of Murakami's work - I think the grrl's piece is a good example of this. Other pieces were somewhat indirect - they took themes of media and pop culture and then made pieces around those themes with a sort of Murakami twist.



I am not sure what is going on with my grandfather's funeral. I'll be heading up to Modesto at some time within the next 3-10 days, I am sure, but aside from that, I have no clue what is going to happen. All I've wanted to do for the last two days is sleep. Family can be difficult.

Resquiat in pace

James Ross Hilton
2/20/1916-1/19/2008

We had a kind of complicated relationship, but he was my grandpa and I will miss him.

Everyone Else Is Doing It

So why not me?

I'm doing 101 Things in 1001 Days

You can read all about it here if you are so inclined. I'm setting up a separate blog for it so as not to get overly spammy here, though there will doubtless be some overlap of blog posts and pictures, depending.

In other news, saw Sweeney Todd last night and now I can't get the bit about Mrs. Mooney's Pie Shop out of my head because she uses pussycats (and them is quick!) and my favorite threat when the kittens are being naughty is that I am going to bake them into pies. With a nice bubbly gravy.

So that was a good laugh.

There've been some real ups and downs in the last few weeks, but I'm pretty happy overall. I have been seeing someone pretty fantastic for about a month and change now, and that seems to be going fairly swimmingly. Internet dating kind of worked out, eh? Plus The Handsome Cabin Boy is well though I see him infrequently, because he is busy training for the AIDS Ride most of the time now.

The oldest has a piece at the MOCA (LA Museum of Contemporary Art) that was installed last Tuesday and will remain on display for about a month. Official artist's reception is this weekend from 2-4 and if any locals are interested in going and seeing the show (it's put on by the AVPA at Culver High School) just drop me a comment and I will get you details. It's an adjunct to the Murakami exhibit, so you can get in and see his stuff at the same time!

The youngest was mugged for her backpack on school grounds last week. The culprit made off with her iPod and other belongings, but she was unharmed and responded by getting spitting mad. The boy who perpetrated the act was twice her size and a high schooler to boot. Such a Big Man On Campus, he had to mug a 13 year old middle schooler? He is as yet uncaught and will probably remain so as the school is doing nothing about it and are understaffed as far as security guards go. Little Miss Feisty tried to run him down and get her backpack back after he took off. I am glad she didn't catch him as that is a good way to get hurt, but we all do admire her gumption to try. We have, of course, already replaced the iPod - which was her big Xmas present this year. How much does it suck to have it stolen less than a month after?

Public schools, I am telling you. Infuriating. They're both taking self defense classes this semester.

And off I go to knock some stuff off my list.

I swear to god I don't know how those two skeins of Handmaiden got into my shopping cart at The Loopy Ewe. A kind of sickness, it just came over me. "Cashmere. Sea silk. Meriiiinoooooo.... springy leafy green!!" the voice whispered in my ear. "Come on baby. You know you want some."

And... and... I did. I wanted it bad.

So I got it.

Ayeah, that "I am not buying any new yarn until I destash a bit." is going really well for me, here, heading into 2008.

ABC Along

I missed this last year! The ABC ALONG all fresh for 2008.




A is for...
Art supplies... watercolor pencils, ink, brushes, and pencils specifically. Impossible to capture the boxes and boxes of art crap I've got stashed around the apartment but I do seem to accumulate lots of tools and stuff related to making everything from fabric to clay to fiber arts and a bunch of stuff in between.

Artisan handcrafts... handspun yarn, a glazed pitcher made with my own hands, and art made by other people - muertos from Oaxaca, a stained glass child's toy from the Renaissance Faire.

Artifacts... from childhood - a miniature spinning wheel that belonged to my grandmother, sent to me by my cousin when he learned that I love to spin.

Art Trading Cards... my new time suck. This was just a doodle, having fun and getting to play with new pencils. Prefect's Bathroom. Remember Moaning Myrtle?

I'm trying to do something creative every day in 2008, whether it's spinning, knitting, painting, sketching, beading or some other craft. Last year was all about letting the ground lay fallow. This year I'd like to get into making art again. Not for sale necessarily, but for myself.

It seems to be a theme I keep seeing repeated. Lots of folks out there trying to reconnect to their creative spark and give it the worth and weight it deserves.

Have a Happy Period!

IN which I pull on my ranty panties...



Tonight I had to run to the drugstore so that I could buy some “feminine hygiene products” because in a house with 3 women of childbearing age (ok, two of ‘em had best not be bearing any children until after grad school and I’m done but you know what I mean), we tend to run out real fast.

SO there I am, in the “feminine hygiene” aisle, staring at this vast array of plastic wrapped, colorful, over-packaged products in complete bafflement. And I had a few thoughts that I wanted to share with my readers.

First. “Feminine Hygiene products.” Ok, nuff said. How about “Stuff for when you are bleeding because you’re a girl and that happens.” or just “Maxipads and Tampons” there in the aisle header.

Second. Wings. On maxi pads. Okay? Who thought that up? Who thought little plastic sticky wings were a good idea? This is not a remake of Aladdin for my vagina. I am not going to fly anywhere. It is not a whole new world. Why then, I ask, do I need wings? Can someone answer this question?

“To keep your panties fresh.” I am sure some Madison Ave. exec is muttering. “Duh.”

I am here to state, for the record, that wings don’t help with the freshness issue. What wings do is get all stuck the wrong way and then when you try to adjust things, they stick themselves to the bottom of the pad and become unusable. Then there you are, in the second stall in the ladies room, swearing at your panties and wondering why your coworkers all look at you funny when you walk out. And if you do by some lucky chance get the wings wrapped around there right, creating a little plastic freshness ensuring panty burrito, the odds are very good that at some point during your day (unless you have a Brazilian), a stray hair will work its way into the adhesive, creating a very painful pulling sensation that must be rectified immediately. And there you are, casually limping into the nearest broom closet or bathroom to fix things but trying to look as if you haven’t a care in the entire world.

“Well gee whiz, Martha Sue. That there gal sure does have a curious hitch in her gitalong.”

Thank you Madison Avenue, I’ll skip the panty burrito. The only reason I might want wings anywhere near my panties is so that the rabid mongoose currently residing in my uterus can hop on and fly away, back to rabid mongoose cramps land.

Third. Little adhesive strips that read, “Have a happy period.” I’m sorry? Have a happy what? What is that all about? Please refer to item #1 and the part where I talked about the rabid mongoose. There is nothing you can write on my hygiene products that is going to help with that. Unless I suddenly get a houseboy with mad skills at hot fudge sundaes and foot massage, I probably am not going to have a happy period. At last put something helpful on there like, “How about a nice cabernet?” or “For God’s sake, eat some chocolate.” or even “Put the .22 down and go take a nap.”

Madison Avenue, I don’t want pink plastic or cartoons, cute little sayings, quotes, pearlescent coverings, tampax dusted with pixie dust or symbolic flowers. I don’t need six sizes and absorbencies of ultrathin now with super absorbent power and wings and a cute quote on the back plus flower fresh perfume. I am not embarrassed by my body’s functions and do not need these things to make the experience more palatable to myself or anyone else. BUT I am a little abashed when I have to stand there blocking the aisle for ten minutes scratching my head and trying to figure out which box of “hygiene” products has been specially formulated for my specific needs while some pubescent box boy unpacks aspirin 7 feet away. That process is not palatable to me one bit.

If you’re going to try to make the experience a little nicer? I wouldn’t say boo to a complimentary Ritter Bar or 3 pack of Godiva truffles inside each package. Or a coupon for a nice Merlot. That would not be overkill, in my book.

And for god’s sake? Lose some of the plastic over-packaging. I really don’t want to destroy the environment over this.

Next time on The Too Much Information Channel… trying to buy over the counter yeast infection treatments. Why they keep that shit locked up behind plexiglass and why I always get the one clueless male checker who has to shout across the store “What kind of YEAST CREAM did you want again, lady?” when I have three frat boys in the line behind me, is beyond me. Hilarity always ensues.

Got the camera back! And here, in glorious 2 ply color, is my finished yarn from Funky Carolina's "Unearthed" roving. Her colorways are so very pretty. It's definitely more underplied than I wanted, which is what I figured would happen after setting the twist. I think the main problem is that I've been going too fast. I need to slow it way down when I'm plying. Naturally, this means I need more singles in order to properly test my theory.



This is going to be some gothtastic sock yarn when it's all said and done, y'all. "Enough With The Girly" dyed by Sachi. Eggplant, plum, charcoal and deep deep green, subtly shading one into the other. Gorgeous.

More than anything these days, just having a little extra time to sit down at my wheel and spin for a little while makes me feel happy.

Mittens is doing SO much better!! He is regaining his weight and his spunk. I believe he is out of the danger zone and firmly on the road to health. I am going to start him transitioning back to his normal food, over the course of the next few days.

I've been feeling a little creatively unfulfilled lately and this seemed to be as good a time as any to teach myself watercolor technique (properly), so I am now the proud owner of not only tubey watercolors but pencil style watercolors, brushes, frisket, paper, board, tape, stuff... stuff... stuff... all for something I don't know how to do yet. I do not know what comes over me in art supply stores and yarn stores, except that it is some kind of frenzy, a kind of madness really. I really should stay out of them. My brain races with pretty pictures and I see all the things I could do... and then suddenly I'm forking over the grocery money for paints and cold press paper. Or yarn. Or fiber. Or clay. Or beads. Or.... you get my drift. Acquire the shiny first, then figure out what to do with it. That's how we roll around here.

I am trying to get myself out of the creative doldrums. Sometimes the doldrums are necessary. Sometimes life hits us hard and it's really soothing to stick with the unchallenging and uncomplicated. It is just nice, when you get the energy back, to remember to challenge yourself a little. To remember that you can still learn and grow. Or that you even want to. Maybe some new materials and mediums will spark something good.

Plied off the Funky Carolina singles that I'd been spinning since before the holidays began.



I got two skeins of fingering weight two-ply out of 4 oz of fiber and I'm estimating a total of 400 yards of yarn, give or take. The second skein is more evenly and tightly plied. The first skein is a little too loose. I slowed way down with #2 and counted treadles and it really made a difference. I absolutely gained some insight into the plying process out of it. I'd have a picture here, but someone who shall go unnamed but whose name sounds a lot like my oldest child's, has absconded with my camera and I cannot find it. I went into her bedroom to look, and came out with two glasses, four mugs and a bowl, all of which were growing science experiments - but no camera. So no gorgeous pictures of plied yarny goodness for y'all. Probably good, I might have opted to record the science experiments for posterity and that's maybe not the best blog fodder.

The kids are back to school today and I am reveling in my mostly clean, very quiet house. The last of the holidays are truly gone and "normal" has descended upon us once more. I hadn't realized how much I needed a few quiet hours until I got them. How happy were the morning's agonized groans as alarm clocks sounded and how sweet the sound of kvetching about school. Whine, little children! Moan! Complain! And then hasten your mopey little butts out the door, because the schoolbells will be ringing ever so sweetly for you to get to class and you would not want to miss it!

Joy. Tea. Silence.

Just when I decide to narrow down my focus in the next year, when I decide I want to really work on improving my spinning and knitting actual wearable garments to the exclusion of other things...

...I discover Artist Trading Cards.

Fuck. Because that looks fun and what I need is another time suck, right? Yeah, I do. It looks fun. I want to play too!

Mittens has improved a lot today. He still obviously does not feel well, but he is absolutely improving. I cannot believe how much my entire world has narrowed down to making this little kitten healthy again. I love him SO much and I just can't bear the thought of him not getting well. It's amazing how they put such hooks in your heart in such a little amount of time. I have absolutely done no knitting lately on anything other than some cursory stitches taken on Lady E, and that is the world's most boring project to update because it is just more little squares.

Slowly, my normal customers are coming out of hiding and back into the store. Thank GAWD. I actually think that people were worse during our post-Christmas sale. There is something about a 50% off sign that just brings out the very worst, most entitled, rude behavior in people. I may have mentioned this before.

I'm also not sure why people think it is acceptable to unscrew the lids on products that they are not intending to buy, so they can "just smell them." In my book, you open it? You bought it. Until you buy it, it is MY product and you do not get to open the bottle. I had a woman open a bottle yesterday, slop half of it on the floor, laugh apologetically and set it back on the shelf and walk away, leaving the mess for me to clean up. And didn't buy the product. We have a sample counter for a reason. We ask people to let us help them with samples, for a reason.

I'm afraid to say that I enjoyed watching one woman unscrew a jar of honey body balm and surreptitiously take a big whopping mouthful because she thought it was food and she thought she could get away with it because nobody was watching. I The moment that she realized that omg, she had a big mouthful of Not Food? That was priceless.

Yes I saw her unscrew the bottle and yes I knew she was going to taste and no, I did not say anything. I just watched, quietly, from across the room. And smiled to myself, a small, evil, satisfied little smile. This is because I am a bad person. Or possibly, just really over helping someone past the consequences of their stupidity and lack of ethics. Sometimes, when you steal, you don't end up in handcuffs. You just get a big mouthful of bad karma.

So the holidays are over and hopefully I will stop being such a misanthrope about the general public. I am all for a much more positive spin on my relationship with the public, in the next few months.

All around me people are making their resolutions for the new year, commitments to themselves, promises to do this or that, setting goals and taking advantage of the bright shiny newness that the turning of the year always seems to bring.

I am honestly not sure how I feel about resolutions. On one hand, I love the idea of another chance, a clean slate, the opportunity to get my shit together, but I don't really need a new calendar to give myself any of those things. I could say, "Today is the rest of my life starting NOW." and resolve anything at any time, right? So why does the shiny new calendar seem so hopeful? The reality is, I never keep the damn things. I make these sweeping, grand commitments, and then I peter out with them when life gets hard or stressful and it's all I can do to hang on by my fingernails. I end up feeling like a total failure and that's not a very nice way to end the year.

Maybe the trick to it, for me, is not in making the huge, new changes but in simply shifting the spotlight to areas of life that are already in play, and paying more attention to them.

Maybe rather than focusing on goals and the finish line, I'd get more of a sense of growth and WIN if I just looked at how certain situations and things have changed in the course of a year. Maybe I'd feel less like a loser because I don't have to confront all the dropped balls.

At any rate, whether you have a bucket full of resolutions or are playing it cool and refusing to make any, here is hoping you are able to make all your desires come to fruition in the new year.

Home.

Mittens got to come home tonight. It took them about 3 hours to do his discharge, after I got there, because the vet was busy with a trauma. We didn't get home till quite late, but I didn't want to leave without him, so I read a book and we cuddled in a room until it was time for him to get to go.



We are all very relieved.

He immediately ran to his fluffy green pillow and did the biscuits, sucking, kneading thing and went straight to sleep with his face buried in his pillow.



He's on special medication for 15 days, tummy coating stuff, and appetite stimulants for a few days. We've got some special food that is very bland and they say that if he does well on this, we can begin to slowly transition him back to his normal food in 3 or 4 days. I am really hoping that we're over the worst of it. At least he is eating again and *knock wood* he hasn't had an episode of vomiting since he got home tonight.

I'm so happy to have my little man back where he belongs.

If you ever have an animal in the LA area that is in need of a critical care ward (kitty ICU) or trauma center, or, for that matter, a cancer or eye specialist, I highly recommend City Of Angels Regional Vet Center in Culver City, off Jefferson at Duquesne. They're really good at taking care of sick kitties. Or dogs.

Oh and sucking is ok, as long as it's not fun fur or something stringy or super long-haloey. His pillow and his monkey are fine. Which is a good thing, because that was the first thing he went for.