I’m With the Band [???]

The dance last night was great. We had a live band, and they were good. Covered a lot of late 60’s and early 70’s stuff, the songs of my misspent youth. They fired up “Black Magic Woman”, and in those magical opening chords, my hips and feet took on a life of their own. Next thing that I knew, the lead guitarist had jumped down from the stage and was dancing with me. [I thought I had wandered into a Springsteen video by mistake; nyah nyah nyah, Courtney Cox!]

How. Cool. Is. That.

A few bars before the end of the song, he wandered on back to the stage. Absolutely the best dance that I've been to since I started coming to the singles’ activities. They’ll be back next month. [So will I.]

Took me almost two hours to drive home, as there was a horrible accident on I-635. I was so sleepy once I got past the accident site that I stopped at a drive-through to pick up a shake. Took another 20 minutes or more to get through that line, as the folks at the head of the line were apparently having issues with their order. As I type this section, it is now two and a half hours since I left the dance, and while I am tired, I am not sleepy.

I moved all the boxes that I packed on Thursday night to stacks on top of my long folding tables, before leaving for the dance. And I packed another five or six boxes and typed up the last of my labels. I will probably need more. I brought home five more lidded boxes and enough knocked-down smaller boxes to fill 2/3 of my back seat. But since it is 1:01am, I don’t think I will traipse out to the car and bring them in.

So, here is my new-to-me flatware.



And here.



I’m also bidding on a small mahogany chest to store them in. Polishing silver is one of those meditative activities that’s fun to do every once in awhile but would be a pain in the patoot on a weekly basis.

OK, it’s now almost 1:30, and I’m officially sleepy. Heading over to the new ward later this morning to meet all the powers-that-be, particularly those who will be helping to unpack the truck in a few weeks.

Night, all!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

LittleBit went out and got her own phone plan and a new number and a much fancier phone than I would have sprung for. On her own nickel, no less! This will give her a bit of credit history, and that’s a good thing.

I called our provider to ask them to drop her old number, which they will do at the end of the billing cycle. I have also downsized from the family plan to the empty-nester plan and cut my text messaging limit by 70%. I’m not one of those obnoxious folks who treats everybody else on the train to half of a phone conversation, so I think that 500 voice minutes will be plenty. [And someday I will be sufficiently saintly not to look down my nose at the folks who break up with their boyfriends on the 5:46. Someday isn’t here yet.]

In today’s “I am so impressed” department? The comment left on Wednesday’s post by the designer of that luscious smoke ring scarf. I followed the links to a page where I could purchase a PDF. So I did.

Since the Serpentine [medium] is now a full pair...



...and the second Serpentine [small] is cast on, it’s time to start thinking about the next project. I am not quite ready to tackle making both Anastasia socks the same size. [I suspect that it will involve ripping both socks back to the toes.] And I am resisting the idea of two socks on two circs, but that might just do the trick, particularly if I go with a smaller needle size for the sole.

I’m not sure if this smoke ring pattern will be suitable for knitting on the train. It looks like about a week’s worth of knitting. And like all good lace patterns, it looks deliciously complicated, but I suspect that the actual knitting will be straightforward. After I’ve worked one repeat, I’ll know if it’s a good one to take on the road.

My eBay silverware arrived at the office on Friday. It’s gorgeous! I wanted to go home immediately and bake up a batch of popovers and use my new plates. Photos of said silverware to follow, just not today. But here is a plate.



And here are my newest Dansko clogs.



Followed by the ones that came a couple of weeks ago.



Love that rich red!

I feel like a little girl again, playing house. Only this time there are no tiny boxes of pretend food, or stubby plastic forks or miniature copper-clad Revereware pans [I’m tracking some of those on eBay]. Now there is neat stuff that nobody wanted anymore, which I am saving from a landfill. Beautiful, milky old silver and vintage linens and clever cupboards.

There was an interesting profile waiting for me from the Churchboy Dating Service last night. No obvious red flags, so I responded cautiously and have forwarded his profile to Brother Sushi to see if he knows him.

I packed seven boxes of books last night before bedtime and slept in until just after 6:00 this morning! LittleBit’s senior voice recital is at 10:00 this morning, so I need to start getting ready. Fourthborn will be riding with me. And I’m supposed to call Brother Karitas sometime today, because he thought he might have stories to tell me. Tonight there is BBQ and dancing with a live band [as opposed to a dead one?] and a carful of boxes to pick up from one of the Good Brothers, who has been collecting them for me all week.

I snapped a few good pictures of downtown BigD on the walk to the train station last night, but they will have to wait for another post. I need to update Flickr and Ravelry so I can put Serpentine [medium] into my Finished Objects list.

Taking Up a Collection for a Thesaurus, and Other Mutterings

1. On the train into work yesterday, there was a young man who seemed to have only two words in his vocabulary: “shi’man” and “foo”. And let the record show that he was not of the mocha persuasion. I think we should also buy him some consonants while we are at it. If you are going to curse, at least be intelligible...

2. In which Ms. Ravelled appreciates a new context for the phrase “hell on wheels”. Just in case you’re wondering where I fit in his classification system, let me state for the record that I have a reserved parking space in the Pharisees’ parking lot on Whited Sepulchre Lane. With a brass name plate. And a valet who hands me a bag full of peeled grapes as I hand him my keys.

One more character issue for me to work on.

On to happier things. I am ready to bind off the top of the second Serpentine [medium]. I will probably finish that before work this morning. So, photos coming soon! Can the second Serpentine [small] be far behind?

I went to our ward’s monthly Home, Family, and Personal Enrichment Meeting [formerly known as Homemaking Night] last night and had a great time, as always. Mostly it was a potluck and a chance to sit and visit with friends. We had a brief book review, on a book that had vaguely interested me when it came out a few months ago, and now sounds like something I want to read and keep in my personal library. [I know, I know. One more book. Just trying to keep things interesting for my executrix.]

But the best part is that LittleBit [who turned 18 last December and now qualifies to be part of the largest and oldest women’s organization in the world, a/k/a Relief Society] and I are now assigned to be visiting teachers together. It will only be for this month and as much of next month as we are still in the ward, but this is the first time I have ever been able to go visiting teaching with one of my daughters. And we have been assigned to visit two of the liveliest, loveliest sisters in our ward.

OK, time for me to post this and quickly get ready for work. I tried a different station yesterday and learned an alternate, non-flooding route to the one that I prefer. I love having options!

“The Lady’s Not for [Drowning]”

With apologies to Christopher Fry. I dashed out to my car in the cloudburst yesterday morning, headed up for the park and ride, made it through the first low-water crossing with only a little uneasiness, and came to a lake where there should have been an intersection. With two low-water crossings yet to go. There was a pickup waiting to turn, and somebody else stopped a couple of blocks ahead of me, so I put on my left-turn signal [because my car is mysteriously without one that says “Hang on a minute. I’m making a U-turn.”] and headed back the way I came.

I figure that my life is worth the $15.00 that it costs to park under my building. And two of the monthly-parkers were out of the office yesterday, so another co-worker with the same idea and I, both got to park for free.

Preparing for the future. Some things that have been on my mind for the past several months, and new ideas that have popped up like mushrooms after the rain.

Emergency power supply for CPAP machine
It’s one of those things you don’t think about until you’re sitting in the dark and wondering if you’ll have to sleep propped up in a chair all night. After our brief blackout a couple of weeks ago, I spent some time researching options for a backup power supply.

My friend Brother Karitas’ father has a BiPap; it pushes air into his lungs and pulls it out again. Their backup is a gasoline-powered generator on the back porch, and when the power is out, it is Brother Karitas’ job to sit on the back porch in the exhaust fumes and make sure that the generator continues to function.

These are some of the options that I came up with. When I have a place of my own, I would like to set up the solar panels as the primary backup, with a conventional battery in case of extended darkness. I don’t know if any of you also use a CPAP or if you’ve thought about the need for an alternative power source. If you have one, what did you choose, and why?

http://www.powerenz.com/store/index.php?_a=viewProd&productId=24
http://www.cpapdiscountstore.com/catalog/super-cpap-battery-pack-bgc222-p-709.html
http://www.cpap-supply.com/Articles.asp?ID=146
Note in the last that they recommend a deep cycle marine battery. What a charming accessory for the boudoir! I wonder if it comes in red...

I forwarded my research, embryonic as it is, to one of my co-workers who uses a CPAP. It hadn’t occurred to him, either, that “no power” = interrupted sleep.

My second pair of Dansko’s arrived at the office yesterday, and the snack plates, both won on eBay. Which leaves the mystery package from England [well, it's not a mystery to me, but it needs to be one for everybody else, at least for now] and the silver flatware.

And I bid on more of the salad plates last night.

I’ve been reading the home dec and gardening magazines that my co-worker and his wife share with me, and I am getting itchy to try unblackening my thumb. He also brought me a sheaf of Cook’s Illustrated, which I have yet to sit down and peruse.

The second Serpentine [medium] is about halfway done, and my row counter has gone missing. I think I had it at Knit Night. It might have slipped off my lap on the train, night before last; I don’t know. So I am making do with check-marks up one side of the chart.

I brought home five boxes from Knit Night [thanks, Jeri!], which we loaded into the car before the sky opened up, and which I unloaded after I got home last night. We have a potluck at church tonight. My contribution will be whatever I can pick up at the store after I get off the train. So, probably no packing tonight, but I’m bowing out of a dinner group activity for tomorrow night, and maybe I can get half a dozen boxes packed before bedtime.

Gotta dash. We had more rain last night, so I need to find an alternate route to the park and ride.

I have “No Reservations” about “Mostly Martha”.

Somebody, I think it was Kristen, asked if I’d seen either or both. And the answer to that is “yes”. Both, and I like them both. And I like both soundtracks, and I think it’s funny that both scores share that wonderfully ditzy jazzy song.

This appealed to my sense of whimsy.

Link to another article that will make you think.

I love Bloglines. I love getting notified when one of my girls posts to her blog, or one of my friends. I am a relative latecomer to brooklyntweed’s blog. That smoke ring he is knitting just knocks my [hand-knitted] socks off! I clicked on the link he provided, and I like the pattern, and I balk at paying $5.95 to ship a $5.00 pattern. I think the pattern would be perfect for my lone skein of Jojoland Cashmere.

But I also think that I will be sitting down with my four volumes of Barbara Walker and designing my own. Blame it on eBay, where my formula for maximum bid on an item is that X plus shipping should be no more than half of retail. So, when shipping is more than the cost of an item, I think twice. And sometimes three or four times.

I have been really lucky on eBay recently. Two new-to-me pairs of shoes. Dishes in one of the patterns that I collect, at hardly more than yard sale prices. Yesterday I scored 36 pieces of silver flatware, missing only one teaspoon, which I just happen to have, packed away in one of the boxes in my dining room. For $15.50 plus shipping. I was outbid on the kitchen toy that I want, and that’s OK. That particular item shows up much more frequently than buses, trains, or age-appropriate men.

I am nearly ready to begin the pattern on Serpentine [medium]. If I don’t drown in the deluge that’s coming down.

In the Middle of the Night

My mom had an uncommon amount of common sense. When I was a young, hormonal girl in the throes of unrequitedness, she would smile gently and remind me, “Lynn, boys are like streetcars. There’ll be another one in 15 minutes.” And she was right. When I was young.

Now that I am squarely in the middle of my life, I have learned that not only are the pickings decidedly slimmer [even if the men and I are not], but there are downsides to public transportation as well. For example, if you need to go home in the middle of the day and there is no bus waiting at the usual stop to take you to the station, so you walk four blocks to the station and arrive in time to see the train pulling out? You will have to sit on a metal bench for an hour and a half and smile sweetly at panhandlers and tell them that you have no money to give them, because you are a single mom and have no money, just blessings.

[This, I know, is what our British cousins would call a prevarication. I have no money because I just paid my tithing and my bills, and I bought a spinning wheel. I told them the truth. I just didn’t tell them all the truth. I learned this from my children.]

There was another middle-aged woman waiting for the train. We were Safety Kids and sat together. And the transit cops were much in evidence, so we weren’t really bothered by the transients. And I had my knitting. So it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been. Even when the platform was invaded by a horde of middle-schoolers heading back from a field trip, who had enough collective energy to power a small village [who am I kidding; they were a small village].

Even though I was not in the best of moods, and their noise level matched their energy level, I could tell that they were good kids. One of them gave up his seat and squished in with two skinny friends so that another woman my age could sit down. They were not profane or abusive; they were just loud. And as we rolled past Children’s Medical Center in Dallas, I was impressed how great it was that these kids were outside, living their lives, not inside the hospital, fighting for them.

I hit the drive-through at Panda Express and picked up an order of orange chicken *and* spring rolls with mustard. I left the office a little after 1:00; I was sitting here at my computer about 4:00 and went to bed around 5:00, full of fiery food rather than the chagrin which had occupied the last several hours.

I woke up a little before midnight, just as LittleBit was getting home, so we had evening prayers together for the first time in weeks, maybe months. And then she went to bed, and I am apparently up for the duration.

The guys among you are probably scratching your heads and wondering why I had to come home in the middle of the day, when I was not throwing up. [Yay! for not throwing up!] The ladies among you will have figured out that I had a Female Emergency yesterday, something that is prone to happen at the beginning of the reproductive cycle when we are getting used to having hormones, and unfortunately also at the end of it when we thought we were safely past it.

I do not know if there is a male equivalent of the helplessness that you feel as you overflow your protection, or the embarrassment which accompanies the knowledge that anyone standing behind you can tell what time of the month it is. Thankfully, I learned decades ago that it’s almost impossible to die of embarrassment. And mercifully, it was a coolish day yesterday so I had a long jacket with me. Still, I think I was never so glad to be sitting in my own car as I was last night.

I am about ready to hit the fridge and bring out the rice I was unable to finish last night. She tossed in a side of sweet and sour sauce, and I have some leftover pineapple as well, so I think I am in for a treat. Not sure what I will do for the next four hours until my alarm goes off. Maybe finish binding off Serpentine [medium] and cast on the next one and then a little spinning?

I think we could use a little music. And I seem to be on a kick. But you can’t argue with the classics.

Firstborn sent me this yesterday. Her boss sends out inspirational thoughts to their office.

Good morning.
Patience
A man must learn to endure patiently what he cannot avoid conveniently. [Michel de Montaigne]

So, apparently, must a woman. Even when she is her own personal Red Sea, and drowning like Pharaoh.

56-Year-Old Women Should Not...

1. Be having visits from the Red Fairy.
2. Eat refried beans while enduring a visit from the Red Fairy.
3. Need Midol, and be without it on the Sabbath.
4. Have flushed the anti-inflammatory prescription last week, just because they hadn’t taken it in two months.
5. Have food cravings; see #1.
6. Miss church because they had chills and fever; maybe it wasn’t those beans after all?
7. Throw up on Mother’s Day. So hard they get a nosebleed.
6. Kill spiders by throwing up on them; so I didn’t, but that deserves its own paragraph, below.

I called my friend Leslye to let her know that neither of us would be at church. LittleBit had a command performance at her restaurant; all those Sabbath-breakers taking Mom out for her once-a-year lunch. And I? I was otherwise occupied. I asked Leslye to snag some chocolate for me, if that was what they were handing out, because I wasn’t always going to be throwing up.

I really hope they didn’t give me another mouth to feed geranium to keep track of.

I woke up a little past 2:00, about five or ten minutes before Middlest called me from Virginia. I asked her what time it was. [Our block of meetings run from 11:00 - 2:00.] I suspect that the real reason I was sick is because the Adversary did not want me at church, and not simply because Mother’s Day is my least-favorite holiday. Witness: I’ve never gotten sick on Father’s Day, and I’m not all that crazy about it, either.

After I was done chatting with Middlest, I left a message on Leslye’s cell phone. “Please tell me there is not a tall, good-looking man wandering around the chapel with a ring box in his hand, looking for me!” Hey, if he really is Brother Right, then he’ll be there when I’m there, and not when I’m not. Right? It’s all about the timing.

My friend Tinks sent me this Mother’s Day card. [OK, that link takes you to a generic page. Click on Mother’s Day More and then on What Mom Hears. Unlike Mother’s Day per se, I like this card!

And on we go to the story about not-barfing-on-the-spider. I was sitting in the tub, minding my own business, hoping that the hot water would warm my cramping abdomen and get it to stop. And all of a sudden my mouth started watering, so I grabbed the little washtub that I use when LittleBit and I are having Gilmore Girls moments, soaking our feet side by side while we eat popcorn and watch old musicals. And I propped it between my knees and my chest, and I waited. And then I saw a tiny little spider, no bigger than the head of a quilting pin, scrambling frantically to get out of the washtub. And I thought, “Nobody, not even an eensy weensy spider, deserves death by vomit.” So I dipped a corner of the washtub into the water and drowned him in tub water. It seemed the kinder thing to do.

OK, how lucid are you when you know you’re about to hurl?

I cautiously sipped some apple juice around 4:00pm. It stayed down. I followed that an hour later with a bowl of ramen noodles. They stayed down. Bowl of applesauce at 6:00pm? It stayed down, too. Houston, our stomach has landed! I spent the late afternoon updating my queue on Ravelry and the evening watching most of Waking Ned Devine while knitting away happily on the medium Serpentine Mitt. And catching up, gingerly, on a day’s worth of calories.

Got an email from one of the Good Brothers, offering empty boxes and a strong back, for my move. Got another one from Leslye, saying that she had my chocolate for safekeeping. Got about four hours of sleep when I went to bed very late last night, and while I would rather stay home and knit or spin!!! I think I am well enough to be a responsible corporate citizen and get on the train this morning.

It’s Monday. I’m vertical. That’s progress!