- Two 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!
Thursday, July 30, 2015
"I think this is your file?"
"No," she said quietly, "he's not here anymore. The file's been reassigned to your attorney." I've only gotten snippets, and it's not my story to tell. But I will miss him. He was a good friend to me, and I wish him only the best.
We also had a software upgrade, which will probably be wonderful once I learn my way around, but there were several small glitches today that hampered my productivity.
I got about 40 of the emails dealt with. Maybe more. There were a few new ones throughout the day. I got all the way through both attorneys' calendars, and I got all of the emails from SemperFi wrangled, and reports saved for both of them, and was led to catch a couple of things that I absolutely had to do today, but as far as formally touching my To-Do's or working the mail, that did not happen. And unless the Court grants our motion for continuance, I will have to assemble trial notebooks tomorrow afternoon for a trial that will take place on Monday.
Tomorrow could get interesting, in the Chinese sense, in a Noo Yawk minute. But I will pray like crazy and work like crazy, and hope that I am working smart as well as working fast. And I am not going to give it one more thought until morning prayers tomorrow.
I'm off on Monday for my quarterly bloodwork. So next week might be crazy as well, at least until I get new cases opened and old cases closed and wrangle seven days' worth of mail and catch up my To-Do's.
For now I am going to open the package of quilt fabric that was waiting for me when I got to the office today, and I am going to knit at least one row on the stealth project. I finished reading Standing for Something, by the late Gordon B. Hinckley. I highly recommend it.
Last night before bedtime I finished the travel reading, a first novel that was mostly wonderful but had one foul-mouthed character and his mother who continually admonished him, "Language." while ironically harboring murder in her heart. Interesting bit of irony, there. I cannot explain why I continued to read the book. I'm not going to recommend it to you. But I am going to continue pondering plot details and literary devices.
Ack. It's nearly 10:30. I meant to be asleep half an hour ago.
Did I mention that I shredded my toes in the pool last night?
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
My brother-in-law has several meticulously organized notebooks of family group sheets. I innocently picked up one on Thursday. Entered those people onto ancestry.com. Started linking records. And family started pouring out of the woodwork like ants at a picnic. I have one pile of new family group sheets in which all the parties have been entered and matched to records. Another, smaller pile that I am actively working on linking records. And a third pile that I hope to finish before going home. All of these will stay here. And I will tag a bunch of sheets for him to photocopy and mail to me. I need to remember to ask cousin Norm if he wants them when I'm done.
I've walked with my sister every morning except Saturday and Sunday. Yesterday we walked with one of her friends. I am taking home a couple of that friend's recipes; she dropped them off earlier this morning.
Making steady progress on the stealth project. It's a pattern I've worked before, and I'm tweaking the decreases a little. My flight home tomorrow is nonstop, and I have to guess whether, if I knit up to and including the next beaded rows, there will be enough knitting to keep me occupied until I get home. 'Tis a puzzlement.
Today we're going to Powell Gardens, the site of a former gravel pit. I love how lush and green it is here. My sister's fuchsia blossoms are somewhere between the size of ping pong balls and golf balls. Unopened, they're the size of large cherries.
I think I will go tag the family group sheets that I want my brother-in-law to copy for me. And then knit a bit. They'll watch the Mariners game tonight, and I'll listen to them having fun (or groaning) while wrangling the dead people.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
The new (living) cousins are delightful. Everything you could wish for: smart, funny, kind. You know that's a home run for me.
(Sorry. Sister and brother in law are watching the Mariners game downstairs.)
Stealth project is coming along.
Body is tired. Going to bed after I read my scriptures.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Brother-in-law and I spent several hours on genealogy today. My mind, heart, and spirit would like for me to stay up all night connecting more dots. My common sense (stop laughing) tells me to put down the phone, turn off the light, and go to bed, dadgummit, because tomorrow we are driving to Olympia and then heading toward Portland for the family reunion on Saturday.
There has been minimal knitting on the current stealth project. There will be more while we're on the road tomorrow.
Walked a mile with my sister this morning. Uphill both ways, as her neighborhood is all ups and downs. But only 61F, so I didn't even break a sweat.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Picked up beads for a stealth project yesterday. I may be picking up more beads on Friday. I've started collecting the items that will need to be packed for my vacation: vitamins, toiletries, et al. And making a honey-do list for Fourthborn, who will again be house-sitting for me.
I've been a scanning-and-shredding fool this week. There's a full bag that will go out with the recycling, Tuesday after next.
The July quilt block is done, after a blunder on my part. When I was cutting out pieces last week, I cut the red ones 3/8" too short on all sides. So yesterday I had to make a run by the quilt shop and purchase another block kit.
I would really like to finish the scanning before I go to bed tonight, but I think sleep will win out over diligence. I did not sleep well Friday night, although I got a respectable night's worth last night. But I'm still feeling as if I had been dragged through a knothole, sideways.
The house is warm. Very warm. I keep meaning to call the AC magician and ask him to drop by a copy of the manual, or send me the link. I don't know how to program my smarter-than-I-currently-feel thermostat, and the ambient temperature is now 83F. Which is several more F's higher than I would like.
I am working on another stealth project: supervising drive time for Turnip (Fourthborn's nickname for her former fiance, previously referred to here as Fiance. You get Turnip instead of an unpronounceable symbol.) His mom and stepdad are lovely people, with good intentions of giving him driving hours so he may get his license. Something always comes up. So as of yesterday I am quietly furthering his ambition. When he's officially licensed, his grandfather is giving him one of his cars. And then I hope to be able to see more of him, because he's one of my favorite people. We spent an hour and a half in the parking lot of the church, while he practiced turns, head-in parking, back-in parking, and approximations of parallel parking.
Then he came back here with Fourthborn and me, because he's never seen the house, and I parked the Tardis on the street, and he practiced parallel parking some more. I took them home and came back by way of the gym, where I walked in the lap pool for half an hour. I spent six-plus hours in the car yesterday, two two-hour round trips and some miscellaneous stuff around town, with none of the whining from my right knee that used to be a given, anytime I spent more than an hour or so behind the wheel. This tells me that if I choose to drive to Galveston for my birthday next year, I will not arrive so crippled that I cannot enjoy myself.
Now that is a happy thought on which to end this post.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Firstborn and 1BDH, and Secondborn and 2BDH, all have far more demanding callings than I did when I was their age. So this is in no way intended to be a criticism of their unavailability to help me wrangle my (pushy) ancestors who are wanting their work done. There is a time and a season for everything, and this is my time to do family history research and temple work. Their time will come later, and then we will progress faster.
Last week I did the temple work for my great grandfather's first wife. I have seldom felt such a pervasive sense of joy as I did in the temple that night. Last night I did the work for their daughter. That feeling did not come until I finished her endowment. Some other kind soul did the work for Alice, the daughter-in-law. And I will have to sweetly press-gang the brethren in my ward to do the work for the two sons so I may seal this family together. Mama Amanda wants it done.
These people are very much alive, just out of sight. They have feelings, and opinions, and are begging us to pay attention to them. I'm just glad that I'm at a time and place in my life where I may cooperate with them.
In other news, 2BDH was recently ordained a high priest and set apart to serve in the high council of my old stake. (This is a big deal.) I don't have time to go into the theology, or how the church is organized, but it's a position of great trust and responsibility. The kids invited me to be present for his ordination and setting apart. Much leakage of the eyes.
This is the part where I grab the bags which I've set down by the front door and drive like the wind, Daniel-san.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
There is a phenomenal article in the July 2015 issue of "The Ensign" which is directed at young adults but applies equally to this less-young one, on the virtues of arising early (check!) and going to bed early (oops!)
I tried last night. I really did. Picked up Fourthborn for what I thought was a doll meet, only to discover that I had gotten the date wrong (for the second time in ten days), and we were at PieFive one week early. So we went across the parking lot to In N Out for burgers and were reasonably content. The dolls aren't speaking to us (dolly joke). Came home and went almost directly to bed.
Fourthborn had been up since 1:00a.m., and I had slept in until 5:30. So I said my prayers and called it a night, only to wake about two hours later by the warbling call of nature. Back to bed. And awake about every hour and half after that, for one reason or another, notwithstanding that at the end of the midnight comfort call I dabbed my forehead with lavender massage oil, which usually does the trick.
When I reached for my phone this morning to wake it up, I discovered that I had not quite plugged it in. So when I did, it registered at 43%. Which is about where I feel at the moment.
The day will get better. I will figure out breakfast. Fourthborn will stop reading hilarious Tumblr memes at me, and I will be able to complete a sentence without cracking up. We will pick up our quilt blocks with Firstborn, then come back to Garland to check out the flea market, and an organic gardening store somebody told me about.
I have a short but comprehensive honey-do list in my head, but items keep flying off because I am snickering. I need to get off the computer, forage in the fridge, take it into my room (the food, not the fridge) with a notepad and pen, and close the door. Love my kid, but she is literally too fun for words.