The Ravelled Sleave

New calling :)

2012-02-13T05:51:00.003-06:00

I was set apart after church yesterday. I am the new fourth-Sunday teacher in Relief Society. I will take the assigned General Conference address and build a lesson from it. In my previous stake, we had to meld two or three addresses into a coherent whole. In this stake it will be easier, as there is only one chosen by the stake presidency per month. I teach in two weeks.

Church was good. I have slightly mixed feelings about the new ChiaoGoo needle. The cable has a finely-plied steel wire core inside the plastic sheath. I wish they had had a 40” needle in the shop, as the steel makes the cord less flexible, and the needle portions are a little longer than what I need for this job. It made the gusset decreases on the baby sock more fiddly than I would have liked, dealing with two loops until I had decreased down to 20 stitches on the instep. Now that I am doing a pure and simple Magic Loop, I am very much pleased with the performance.

I waited at church while Beloved did his duty as ward financial clerk. Knitted a little and read the second half of last week’s RS lesson and the first half of the lesson we studied yesterday. I finished that lesson a few minutes before bedtime. So I am now in position to read the lesson for next week, if belatedly obedient and studious.

I made spanakopita from memory, after a short nap. It was pretty good, and next time it will be better. I have been married to Beloved just long enough that I am starting to acclimate to his tastes. I will put in more onion next time, and some freshly-grated pepper, but I was pleased with the onion/spinach/egg/cheese balance overall. And you can’t go wrong with a recipe that uses an entire stick of butter!

I also made a simple salad: sliced baby carrots, grape tomatoes, small red grapes, almond slices, a couple of radishes, a couple of green onions, mine topped with balsamic salad spritzer. I have two days’ worth of salad ready to go, and two portions of spanakopita to take with them, plus a larger container with about three servings of spanakopita that will probably get eaten by Beloved for his lunches.

He fed the dishwasher and did a load of whites and washed the flannel sheets we got as a wedding present; I put them in the dryer. We are having a cold spell, and some areas are getting snow and/or sleet. So we plan to break in the sheets tonight, after an empty-nesters’ dinner.

We are starting to get a rhythm on chores. He’ll wash a load and dump it on the bed. I’ll fold it while sitting on the bed and talking to him as he gets ready for bed. I put my stuff away; he puts his away; we have family prayer, and one of us stays up and putters on the computer for a few minutes.

He wanted to get all the wedding presents out of the living room and into what will become our office. I got that taken care of while we watched [most of] the Grammy Awards. I discovered some singers whose voices I like (Adele, the lead singer of the group Jack Black introduced, the lead of the group that covered the first Beach Boys song), and I thought Jennifer Hudson’s rendition of Whitney’s song was just lovely. Brian Wilson looked a little lost. Glen Campbell and Tony Bennett were heartbreaking. Sir Paul was inspiring. And Elton John in the Pepsi commercials was a hoot!

I’ve paid bills this morning. And mopped the guest bathroom. Beloved is about to fix breakfast. He checked the driveway and road. The sleet woke us up in the middle of the night. It’s wet out there, but no snow on the ground.

This is the part where I mosey out to the kitchen and flirt with the cook. Happy Monday, everybody!

And another [paycheck] bites the dust.

2012-02-12T06:53:00.002-06:00

I got paid on Friday. You would not necessarily know that from the balance in my checkbook. Spa treatment (next time I am getting brave and trying the b****i wax), Costco, Sprouts, Albertson’s, and I finally, finally made it to The Knitting Fairy, hoping to replace my broken 4” size 0’s with Signature DP’s, but they do not (yet, anyway) make them that small.

I came home with a ChiaoGoo 32” circ and have transferred the baby sock onto that for today’s church knitting. The ruana is just too big to wrangle in tight quarters. And the whole point of church knitting is to remain awake and engaged during a three-hour block of meetings, not to say “Look at me, I’m knitting, and you’re not. I’m ever so much cooler than you are!”

I am pleased that we got out of Costco without spending $200. By the time we finished all of our errands (including taking Beloved’s sister to the airport), it was dark, not to mention colder than a bill collector’s heart. But the food is all stowed, and we have a nice addition to our three month supply (more on that in a bit), and I have the makings for a batch of reduced-sodium spanakopita.

I am hoping that when we get home from church the urge to cook which was been tantalizing me since Friday morning on the drive to work, will have returned. Because at the moment it appears to have taken off for Club Med and taken my cheese shaver (one of those triangular thingies with a narrow slot and a handle, as opposed to a traditional cutter with a roller and a wire) with it.

I was trying to explain food storage to one of my non-LDS friends at work. It is such a blessing to be married to a man who keeps the commandments. He and his late wife established a year’s supply of the basics: wheat, honey, rice, dried beans, oils, powdered milk, canned tuna, peanut butter, etc. The sorts of things that will, for the most part, keep for 20-25 years under proper conditions and prevent starvation in case of famine. We also both have 72-hour kits, in case of sudden emergencies. Mine is filled with MRE’s. He has better food, and camping gear. We both need to rotate/upgrade the edible contents of our kits, and I am sure he will be tweaking the inedible portions of mine. We are also counseled to build up a three-month supply of things we would actually want to eat during a period which is neither an acute emergency nor a long term crisis.

With the insurance questions pretty much settled, we can now turn our attention to reorganizing and inventorying our long term storage, so that we can use and replace items that are approaching the end of their usefulness, deal with the 72-hour kits, and build up our three month-supply.

Note to self: put a ball of sock yarn and some needles into the 72-hour kit, and another UNO deck.

This is the part where I blow-dry my hair and put on the one skirt of whose whereabouts I am certain and ogle the man who just stepped out of the shower.

Life is good.

Observing the tribe (his).

2012-02-11T06:32:00.002-06:00

I spent a good chunk of the party sitting in the kids’ loveseat with Beloved’s sister, watching the last of the food preparation. What the boys lack in numbers, they make up in volume. All of it, last night at least, good-natured.

The kids’ house is lovely. They’ve chosen a warm neutral palette, and it works. The couch, loveseat, and ottoman are covered in a subtle rust paisley. (All the Beloved menfolk are mad for paisley; works for me. [In Beloved’s case, this would include Brad Paisley, which also works for me.])

When Beloved’s firstborn was married last year, there was a superabundance of food. One of the dishes looked as if it held taquitos. Not a big fan of the taquito, so I passed. I have since learned that I missed eating lumpia, which are Filipino and are to the ordinary Tex-Mex taquito what cashmere is to Red Heart. I did not repeat that mistake last night.

We have slightly simplified our schedule for today. After complicating it a little. We will leave shortly for Arlington. I will drop Beloved off in about an hour at my insurance agent’s office. Beloved wants to discuss some aspects of the homeowner’s coverage in person. While they are doing that, I will be getting my pits and face waxed at the spa. Then my agent will drop Beloved off at the spa on his way to his next appointment, and Beloved and I will go to my bank and put him on my account. I am hoping that the changes do not immediately invalidate my debit card, as I pay a lot of my bills that way. The next couple of weeks could get interesting. I may need to borrow one of Beloved’s gas credit cards to keep Lorelai happy. We are probably going to defer putting me onto Beloved's bank account until next Saturday, as that is less critical than getting my bank account into my new, married name.

And then we scurry back here and pick up his sister at the kids’ house and take her to the airport. They had a good, productive meeting with their mother’s doctors yesterday. His sister put the fear-of-Beloveds into the young and somewhat cocky cardiologist.

Gotta scoot. I need to look up some addresses for Beloved, and one for me. Life is good.

Insert mildly exasperated snort here.

2012-02-10T05:11:00.001-06:00

I guess if the snooze alarm is the worst of his faults, I’m getting off easy. Welcome to Ravelledland, Ms. Debra. I tried to go over and say how-do from your comment yesterday, but all I have done is to boost your profile views by three. I’m guessing that you blog privately. I’m always a little curious about how people find me. [Many find me just a wee bit strange, but that’s a discussion for another day...]

Today is going to be crazy-busy for Beloved and me. We are both out the door before seven. Me to the salt mines, and Beloved to pick up his mother and sister for a day of doctor visits. Beloved and his sister are loaded for bear. I would like to be a mouse in the corner.

The snooze alarm just went off a second time. The first time it happened, I told Beloved, “This is the part where you get in the shower.”

To which he responded, “No, seven more minutes.”

And I went “Aughhhh!” hence today’s title.

The second time it went off, he said, “This is the part where I get in the shower,” leaped out of bed, came up behind me and fluffed the girls (sending me into helpless fits of laughter), and said, “Ravel that sleave!”

I think it’s fair to say that I am now thoroughly awake, and he is thoroughly pleased with himself.

In other news, we have made a decision on insurance for the house and the cars, and my insurance agent will be a busy boy getting that taken care of. I’m so pleased that the numbers worked out and I get to continue a long and cordial working relationship with him.

I had a good session at the temple last night. I never know what my assignment(s) will be until I get there, and sometimes my schedule changes due to an influx of patrons. We may look like a bunch of serene and interchangeable blue-haired angels to the temple patrons, but sometimes we have to scoot and scurry without appearing to do so. It’s never the same night twice. I always go home physically tired and spiritually uplifted. Last night was no exception.

May I just say how nice it is to get home less than half an hour after leaving the temple, rather than having to drive an hour (or more, depending on construction) to get to Fort Worth. Not to mention how nice it is to have a lively, loving husband waiting up for me at home. We were both pretty pooped last night, but not too tired to sit and talk awhile before crashing.

I am totally jazzed about the birthday party tonight. Beloved had just taken a German chocolate cake out of the oven when I got home last night and was making the coconut-pecan frosting (all from scratch). He will pick up the birthday cards and the gift cards, and all I have to do is drive home from work and look pretty. I’m not used to that. I could get used to it.

My turn for the shower, before he walks over here and fluffs me again and I totally lose my concentration. Happy Friday, everyone. I hope it’s payday, or that you have a chocolate stash, and that all the surprises will be good ones.

Over and out.

Home, home I’m deranged

2012-02-09T05:40:00.002-06:00

I’m reasonably sure that I’ve used that title before, and it doesn’t really fit how I’m feeling, but I wanted to use it. So I did.

Work is going [suspiciously?] well this week. Attorney B’s secretary is out on vacation, and I’m getting both attorneys’ mail read pretty much on schedule, and their mail out, and my inbox whittled down a little, and the to-do’s checked off as they crop up.

My attorney has been working remotely for much of the week. Sick child, workers at his home, and the usual assortment of depositions. Which means that he will be bringing me a raft of dictation tapes when he returns to the office this morning. But Attorney B will be out, dealing with workmen at his home, and that should keep things fairly calm. I have three new suits that need to be answered on Monday, two for my attorney and one for Attorney B, so we know what I will be doing today. I am just hoping that my PRT (annual performance review) does not get sandwiched in there somewhere.

I am making slow but steady progress on the ruana. I joke about how Beloved is cutting into my knitting time. He reminded me, lovingly, that I am cutting into his reading time. We spend a lot of our evenings just sitting and talking, watching cooking shows, or doing stuff at church or with the family.

The twins’ birthday is tomorrow, so there will be a tribal feast at his firstborn’s new home, which I have yet to see. Like Secondborn’s, it is the largest venue and best suited for when this half of the family gets together. Can’t wait!

I spent half an hour or more yesterday, getting Beloved on my health insurance, which I thought I had done two weeks ago. I had to haul in the big guns from HR, as there was some sort of glitch that prevented my completing the process on my own. I am reasonably tech-savvy. Maybe I should say intermittently tech-savvy. But when I called my HMO to inquire about Beloved’s insurance card, they told me he wasn’t on the system. He is now. And in another 2-3 weeks we can call and get his PCP entered into the system. We can keep our respective PCP’s, both of whom work for the same local physician group, just in different offices. Mine is in Arlington. His is in Richardson. I would drive halfway across Texas to see mine.

Plumber is supposed to come today, rescheduled from yesterday. And next week Lorelai goes into the shop for maintenance and then her safety inspection. On Saturday we are putting one another on our bank accounts: yay for Saturday banking! And then I can deal with Social Security, and we can work on getting the cars co-titled (it is too a word; I just made it up).

This is the part where I log off and hit the shower. Beloved is leaping up to make a good, old-fashioned breakfast for me, as today is my long day. One of his sisters is flying in tonight, and tomorrow they and his mom tackle some issues with her healthcare providers.

I am so thankful to be married to a man who is kind, competent pretty much all across the board, and just a joy to be around.

Even if he is inordinately fond of the snooze alarm, which tends to set my teeth on edge. (He snickered when I read that to him.)

Wednesday? Really?

2012-02-08T06:37:00.002-06:00

Good, productive day at work yesterday. Nice visit with the home teachers last night. Another fantastic dinner before they arrived. Quiet(ish) evening at home with Beloved.

Hoping for another productive day at work today. I have a lot on my to-do list that must get done. Maybe a little knitting in the break room before I fire up my workstation, but I spent half an hour moving furniture around and am running a bit behind. Then more knitting at lunch, and more puttering when I get home tonight.

We broke open the UNO deck last night. I was ahead by over 100 points and had two successive hands that effectively cured my smugness. I was pleased to discover that my formerly excessive competitiveness has cooled somewhat. Somewhat.

Marriage, almost one month in, is even better than I had imagined it might be. I really, really like this man!

Stick a fork in me.

2012-02-07T05:43:00.003-06:00

Or just fold me up and toss me into a moving box. Every scrap of stuff, and nearly every scrap of dust, is out of the duplex. I was very, very happy there, for over three and a half years. It was perhaps the longest stretch of peace in my adult life. I am grateful for that time in which to study and ponder and serve and grow. Without it, I might not have recognized the jewel that is Beloved when he came into my life. A different sort (and level) of peace has entered my life; I am well and truly blessed. Now I get to help figure out how to turn *his* home into *our* home.

And one of my young friends said, “M&M Dark Chocolate Raspberry - best thing since Hershey stopped making raspberry flavored chocolate chips.” I need to stop at Wally World to pick up another padded envelope to mail the house keys. I will look for M&M’s while I am there.

I knitted up three rows of the Elsebeth Lavold Silky Wool yesterday. Wonderful yarn. I will need to save up and make a sweater from this. And in the meantime it is playing nicely with the other yarns in the ruana.

Today I need to contact my health insurer and request an insurance card for Beloved. I hope that he can keep the PCP he has been seeing, who is part of the same outfit as mine, just in Dallas County, not Tarrant. And I need to let my insurance agent know that I’m out of the duplex. And Beloved needs to get numbers from his insurance companies so we can consolidate policies, one way or the other.

Home teachers are coming tonight. Plumber is coming tomorrow. And I’m skipping Knit Night for two weeks.

Time to go soak my head. Later, gators!

He’s watching the Superbowl.

2012-02-05T20:39:00.002-06:00

I’m typing in here for a few minutes. As I dropped a kiss on his forehead and headed back to the computer, I grinned and said, “I’m married to you. I don’t have to watch the game. Of course, it’s not the Packers.”

I did watch the halftime show and thought it was much better than last year’s, my qualified appreciation for Madonna notwithstanding. At least she kept all her clothes on, and she sang two of the handful of her songs that I like and love to dance to.

I went over to the duplex after church. The oven is clean. The fridge is clean. The shower stall is clean, and I have goosed the bathroom floor with enough 409 to make the final installment of I’m-outta-here a breeze tomorrow night. (As I did not get my nails done yesterday, I’m killing two stones with one bird.)

I have a new calling at church. I am elated. Will share the details after I’m sustained next week.

I broke one of my four-inch DP’s while knitting at church today. I took a baby sock to work on, because the ruana is getting unwieldy. I stood to let someone into our row before sacrament meeting, and I felt the needle snap between my fingers. (Given the chance, I’d still stand to let them sit down with us. I can buy more knitting needles. And will, most likely next weekend. This is one of my relatively new KnitPicks Harmony DP’s, and I’m not crazy about the points on the teensier sizes, although I love my larger Harmony’s like you wouldn’t believe.

Let the record show that with great attention and a generous scoop of patience, it is possible to make progress on a baby sock using three whole needles and two half-needles. Just in case you were wondering.

I’m heading back out to the living room to flirt with my husband, which is even more fun than knitting, watching the Superbowl commercials, or eating raw sugar cookie dough.

Long crazy day.

2012-02-04T21:21:00.003-06:00

I woke up about 5:30 after what I think was a solid night’s sleep. Knitted for awhile, then started moving furniture around. Late in the morning, I loaded empty boxes and the cooler into Lorelai and headed west. The bathroom is packed up; so are the fridge and its freezer. I sprayed oven cleaner inside the oven and will bend the Sabbath ever so slightly by heading back to Fort Worth after church tomorrow to clean the bathroom and kitchen. I have a duplex in the mire, and I have reached the end of my patience with this project.

I had hoped to get my nails done between working on the duplex and coming home for dinner with the missionaries. I ran out of time. (Too much time spent fixing up one corner of the living room before I left.) I did make it to Ulta and pick up another bottle of palest pink nail polish, which was on clearance. So I got an $8.50 bottle for $3.00; way better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

When I pulled into the driveway, Beloved had manhandled the psychotic loveseat out onto the curb, to be picked up on Tuesday if somebody else doesn’t make off with it first. It’s not pathologically ugly, even if it is my least favorite shade of blue. It’s just nearly impossible to get up out of, once in. And I would rather use that energy for much knitting or other fun activities.

I had a small falling-down in the LYS (local yarn shop) in Fort Worth when I went in to say goodbye. Came home with a skein of Elsebeth Lavold Silky Wool in a lovely garnet, also a hank of Fiesta Gelato in red-to-plum. I wound the former by hand, as I have no idea where my umbrella swift and ball winder might be. I know, I know: in a box, in my studio. I am regretting, slightly, not taking the clerk up on her offer to wind up both hanks for me. The Silky Wool offered little attitude as I slowly and reverently wound it; the Gelato is 100% rayon, a slinky ribbon yarn, and to attempt to wind it without the proper tools would be an express ticket to a rest home.

Beloved tweaked what I had already accomplished; when I came home the other half of the living room was not merely tidy, it was vacuumed and spot-treated. Our living room, and our breakfast table, look like grownups live here! Tomorrow during the Super Bowl he will go through the contents of the hope chest, and I will pack up anything he deems appropriate for donation.

I am now going to attempt to enter my new yarn in my stash on Ravelry, and then I will rejoin Beloved in the living room. He is watching “Chopped”. Thankfully, he does not have HGTV in his TV package, or I would disappear into the handful of shows I’m aware of, there, and get nothing useful done at all.

Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody. I will be bending mine mercilessly. If your team is playing tomorrow, I hope you enjoy the game. (My children are scratching their heads and wondering what has happened to their mother. Apparently football fumes are as pernicious as yarn fumes. Who knew?)

The puns are flying thick and fast.

2012-02-03T06:32:00.001-06:00

Told him that it was nice to be needed. Or kneaded. He cracked up.

Yesterday was weird. Another good, productive day at work, notwithstanding the first of four quarterly secretarial job function meetings which lasted something over two hours.

My attorney is on vacation today and Monday, so I have a fair chance of getting completely caught up, depending on what Attorney B needs; his secretary is off today and all next week.

My sinuses have inexplicably decided to drain. This is not, in and of itself, a bad thing. I just wish they had waited until tomorrow. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cough reverently in a temple session? Particularly if you are one of the ordinance workers? And I had no voice for much of the evening, due to my efforts to suppress the coughing. I had a pocket full of Mento’s. They helped.

Beloved told me that we had some Mucinex in a kitchen cupboard. My own stash is in one of maybe a hundred boxes somewhere in the house. Sadly, he has Mucinex-DM, which might suppress the hacking but would also make me hallucinate, so that would be a no. I ended up taking a single cayenne capsule washed down with plenty of water, and another one about 4:30 this morning, and not only does my head feel better (I think I cauterized something), but the inflammation in my lower legs is almost completely gone. They have been a little poofy all week, I think from the stress of moving, but never as bad as they were before I started massage therapy last summer.

I was so tired when I got home last night that I was on the verge of tears. Beloved had me in stitches within minutes. Being married to him is better, in every way, than I imagined at my most imaginative.

In a few minutes he will hop in his car, and I will hop in Lorelai, and I will follow him to the gas station and bring him home. His car (unnamed as yet) needs some work. And then it will be Lorelai’s turn, and we will have three functioning vehicles (his is drivable but needs some fairly significant work, as does she).

I am hoping for a quietly productive day at work, and a quiet evening at home. Tomorrow morning I will head back to Fort Worth and clean the duplex, and then I will be done. We are feeding the missionaries tomorrow night. Heaven knows where we will put them, but as Miz Scarlett would say, tomorrow is another day.

Checkbook is balanced.

2012-02-01T21:10:00.002-06:00

Ms. Ravelled is somewhat balanced. Sorta like the karma chameleon, it comes and goes, it comes and goes... I have also done my taxes (but not yet filed) and will owe the grand total of $28, unless there is some sort of glitch that pops up when I go back and review. My bills are paid, except maybe the phone bill; need to check on that. And the tags on Lorelai, which have to be taken care of by the end of the month, but I want to combine that with switching over to my married name and putting Beloved on the title, as he will be doing with his car.

I am reading an amazing book, And They Were Not Ashamed, by Laura M. Brotherson, CFLE (Beloved says clinical fun lover extraordinaire?), an LDS counselor. It pertains to healthy marital intimacy. We always think we are normal, right? but sometimes it is good to get a second opinion.

Turns out that all the counseling I have gotten for one reason or another, over the years, particularly the spiritual boot camp I did about five years ago, has healed or cured most of my hang-ups. This is a book from a Christian perspective, with more detail than one finds in most Christian books on marital intimacy, and it is specifically written to help good women get over the Good Girl Syndrome.

We spend a lot of time and energy teaching our children to just-say-no when it comes to premarital sex. We spend very little time teaching them that once we are married, God wants us to relax and savor our spouse. Lots and lots of uptight people out there, men as well as women, but mostly women. I tried to teach my kids that married sex was wonderful and worth waiting for, but mostly they did not want to have any sort of discussion about the topic, and I certainly had my own issues to deal with, which I have mostly-done. This is a good book (combined with appropriate counseling) for women who have been sexually abused, to help them wrap their heads around healthy, appropriate behaviors.

Even if you have a good marriage and a healthy sex life, you might learn something. I have learned a lot, and I am only on the first, skimming, read-through. I will go back later (soon-later, rather than eventually-later) and do the exercises. I read bits of it to Beloved. There is one fantastic cartoon, fairly early on, that almost made me weep with laughter.

Time to log off and tell Beloved about my day and listen to him tell me about his. One of the many, many things I like about being married to this man.

Deep cleansing breath + nap.

2012-01-31T16:42:00.003-06:00

We got most of the big stuff moved on Saturday. When we left the duplex last night (after almost the last of the packing), it looked the way we wished it had when we left on Saturday. When we left it today, it looked the way we wished it had last night. All that remains is the stuff in the fridge/freezer, a shelf and a half of stuff in the loo, and my cleaning supplies. Wow, look at that! Light at the end of the tunnel and not even a hint of oncoming train!

I. have. a. lot. of. stuff. Even after all the winnowing I have done over the past three and a half years.

I filled Lorelai with small boxes and open containers. She is parked out on the street, locked up tighter than the nun I used to live like, and will get unloaded when it is a little cooler and I’ve had a nap. I have showered and shampooed, while Beloved returns the trailer and the pickup. I am very very clean, and very very tired.

I popped a nail last night. Found it this afternoon when I emptied something annoying out of my sneaker. The intelligent thing to do would be to put on a fresh pair of jeans and head back to Arlington and have NailDude fix it tonight. And then go on to Knit Night. The more likely scenario is that I will post this, shut down Beloved’s computer, take three steps backward, and see how much of a nap I catch before he comes home from his errands.

I may need to go shopping in order to have something to wear to work tomorrow, because a stack of storage tubs as high as my head, maybe higher, is blocking the IKEA armoire in which I cleverly placed such clothing whose whereabouts I knew.

My W-2 arrived in yesterday’s mail. I got most of the way through preparing my return before we left the house this morning. As it stands, I will owe a whopping $28 to Uncle Sugar. Whatever shall I do?

I might as well bid you all a gracious good evening. I think I can stay awake just long enough to put my remaining juice (this glass is definitely less than half-full) into the fridge and toddle back here to bed.

Bending the Sabbath, ever so slightly

2012-01-30T05:22:00.003-06:00

We found places for two bookcases and two dressers yesterday. I temporarily transferred the clothing I hang to the IKEA armoire in my studio. I found my brown suede jacket and wore it with the only skirt whose whereabouts I know, to church, where my name was read in as the newest member of Beloved’s ward. Our friend the RS president has submitted my name for a calling.

No nap after church, but I finished a small project while Beloved tidied up one of his responsibilities as ward financial clerk. And I got some knitting time, some reading time, and some family time with two-thirds of his kids and his mom.

Beloved’s shredder has a new home, and kids picked up their dogs. The cat seems a little lost to have his nap buddy gone (the two Crickets would curl up in dog-Cricket's bed as if they were litter-mates).

I just woke up from a reasonably good night’s sleep. We seem to be solving the conundrum of elbows and knees and what to do when somebody rolls over. His restless legs (a byproduct of the chemo) no longer startle me awake. The souvenir aches and strains from Saturday’s move are pretty much resolved. I no longer squirt water up my nose with the hand-held shower. I know how he prefers the dishwasher to be loaded, and I know where the forks live.

Beloved is going to vacuum the floor in the studio, and I need to find the outlets so I’ll know where to put my sewing table, the bookcases, etc. But that is a project for another day. Right now I need to hop in the shower and hope that there is just enough mousse left to un-scary my hair for the workday ahead. I think the replacement canister is still in the cupboard at the duplex (I’ll find out tonight).

I have no idea what I want to wear to work today, but I know where my options are.

He hung one of our engagement pictures in the dining room last night. One is on my desk at work, and the third is atop the black bookcase, out in the hall (this is the bookcase that the children’s father found in or near a dumpster at our first apartment in Arlington 19 years ago, which we scrubbed thoroughly, and which has followed me through the 1-2-3-4-5-6 moves since then). The bookcase which stood in the hall outside the loo at the duplex, and contained my collection of cookbooks, inspiring Beloved’s respectful query as to why I had so many if I didn’t cook.

I have yet to cook, here, but I’ve helped. We are feeding the missionaries on Saturday. Depending on how tired Beloved and I are after his chemo pump comes off that morning, I am toying with the idea of making a big pan of lasagne (and wondering just how to adapt it to my new lactose-free world). Ah well, we will think of something.

This is the part where I step away from the computer and into the shower. Depending on my workflow today, I will see if I can leave work early or take all or part of tomorrow off, to finish up the move.

Girls just want to be done. Girls? just want to be done!

Welcome, welcome Sabbath morning.

2012-01-29T06:45:00.004-06:00

The kids closed on their house Thursday afternoon. I came home from the temple to a house that was significantly less full of boxes than the one I left that morning. We still have their dogs, as the recent rains have made the ground too wet to scrape for the installation of sod in their back yard.

Ways in which marriage has changed me: I woke up, wandered out to the kitchen for a glass of chocolate almond milk, and was greeted by the dogs and our cat. “Good morning, Gracie. Good morning, Cash. Good morning, Cricket.” Walked back into our room and told Beloved that I now talk to animals. (I guess as long as they don’t talk back to me, I am not in Dr. Dolittle territory...)

The move yesterday went remarkably well. This is the first move in fifteen years over which I have not been in total, if relative, control. We knew when we went to bed on Friday night, after spending a couple of hours at the duplex boxing up more stuff, that we were not going to git ‘er all done yesterday. But we got the big pieces, and most of the boxes, brought over while we had the rental truck. My pretty armoire, the worktable in my studio, the Chastity Bed, and the sofa table that Br. Sushi helped me build, still need to come over here, and there are a few dibs and dabs in each of the rooms, but we’ll take care of that next week. My wonderful landlord says not to sweat it.

1BDH, Fourthborn and Fiancé, and one of our friends in this ward got us loaded up. 1BDH went off to his study group (he has one more year of college and will graduate in December and by the way turns 40 on Tuesday and hates having a fuss made, so of course I am going to make a fuss; singing may be involved). The kids and my bed and Beloved’s old mattress and the sofa got dropped off at their place. I picked up a gift card for now-eldest grandson, whose birthday was Friday and whose party was yesterday afternoon, tanked Lorelai, grabbed a burger and fries at In N Out (moving apparently requires tons of fried potatoes, because I had an egg sandwich and hash browns as a second breakfast after picking up my kids), and headed over here.

When I got here, Beloved and mutual friend and Mel and Squishy were nearly done unloading the truck. She was playing Tetris with boxes in my studio. The friend went home with instructions for his wife to hug the stuffing out of him. The tribe and I went on to the birthday party (seriously good cake, and I met more of the family). Beloved and I came home and took a nap. He cooked dinner (chicken cutlets, steamed vegetables, and you should worry about me because I actually enjoyed the broccoli and cauliflower, probably because they were consorting with carrots) while I puttered.

I know he was a little frustrated because we didn’t get it all knocked out in one trip. And I was a little frustrated because his chemo schedule means we can’t wait until next weekend and grab another truck, with my spending the next few evenings boxing and packing what’s left, and cleaning the duplex within an inch of its life. But the cool thing is, we were not frustrated with one another, and we were not cranky or short. I don’t mind sharing control with a man who is so quietly and humbly competent.

The timing of our wedding, and the mini-moon, and the delayed closing on the kids’ house, could have turned what we both devoutly hope is the last move into a big ugly mess, and while it was not as smooth or quick or seamless as either would have wished, I am both pleased and relieved at how well it went.

Today’s project, after church, is to move all the wedding gifts that are stacked against one wall out of the way, so that we can move my pretty dresser (the painted one I scored on closeout at Pier One a couple of years ago, with the Indian/Russian motifs and the glass fronts on the drawers and on top, where the dolls have been lounging for the past two+ years) into the bedroom and start filling it with my clothing. The dolls are safely out of the way in what will become our office.

I will probably take a little time off from work, maybe as early as tomorrow afternoon, maybe all day Tuesday depending on how much Beloved gets done while I’m at work tomorrow, to take care of things at the duplex. But first, there is church, and then the kids who just moved out are coming over to grab a few last things (not sure what at this point, but Beloved says they are coming over, and I’m happy to see them and to not have to be in charge of anything), and then I hope another nap.

Feeling a little like one of the pioneer children who sang as they walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, but there is a good-smelling man standing three feet from me, and it’s my turn for the shower, and the raisin bran is calling my name.

Will leave you with a bit of moving advice: if you are planning a big move on Saturday morning, probably not wise to help consume the last third of a bag of gingersnaps as a bedtime snack on Friday night. The 1812 Overture had nothing on me yesterday!

Yesterday was a wee bit crazy.

2012-01-27T06:39:00.003-06:00

The kids did close on their house, and they are about 85-90% moved out. The big dogs are still here until, probably, Sunday night. The sod in the back yard has to be down for 24 hours or so before they can go frolic.

Suddenly, the house is huge. My small dolls are in a basket on the bed which is in the room that will become our office. There is a ginormous armoire (Ikea, I think) in what will become my studio. Beloved is meeting me over at the duplex this afternoon or evening, and we will be doing what I devoutly hope is the last of the prep work for tomorrow’s move.

Beloved is making breakfast as we speak: raisin bran and toad in the hole, which is what I grew up calling gashouse eggs, probably a corruption of gasthaus. Piece of bread with a hole torn out in the center and an egg fried in there. Comfort food at just about its most simple.

Beloved is planning to dismantle my computer tonight and bring it back here. He is most generous with his computer, and I am thankful, and I want my own computer with my own bookmarks and files and fidgets and stuff.

Pottery Barn has a nice little touch: the gift tags that have come with some of our wedding gifts, have little keys attached to a house-shaped card. The keys are just about the perfect size to whip up a chatelaine for Blessing. I would love to make a fitted Renaissance gown for her, with a proper chatelaine hanging on her hip. Something fun to think about.

I did not eat properly yesterday, didn’t drink enough water, forgot my enzymes and my vitamin D, and was so groggy that for the first time in four months, I had to resort to a bottle of Cherry Coke just to keep my nose from diving into my keyboard at work. That bottle was gone by lunch. Thankfully, I was able to sleep last night. I stole the pillow off the bed his mother has been sleeping in, and I slipped it under the down pillow on my side of our bed, and no TMJ this morning, woohoo!

The memory foam pillow is too thick and unyielding for my recalcitrant head. The down pillow is lovely and soft and inadequate. I will be buying a fat, sassy feather and down pillow this weekend, to go with some of our new pillowcases.

Ankles are still a little swollen this morning, but I managed to avoid hives. I think it’s just a combination of wrong food, inadequate sleep, inadequate hydration, etc.

Breakfast is ready.

Milk and cookies at 4:00a.m.

2012-01-26T04:31:00.002-06:00

I woke up half an hour or so ago, with an aching jaw but otherwise fairly well rested. I need different pillows. We have two memory foam pillows and two down pillows (one apiece), neither of which is just-right for me.

I was groggy off and on all day yesterday, the natural consequence of staying up too late on Monday and Tuesday nights. Last night was somewhat better; I think I was asleep around 10:00. The household is all pretty excited: the kids are supposed to finally, *finally* close on their house this morning and start moving this afternoon. All that happy energy bouncing around inside the walls of our home, made it a little tricky to get to sleep.

Beloved made a huge pot of pasta last night. I made a huge salad. I will be taking leftovers of both to work with me this morning. And I will have more of the same for lunch tomorrow.

I got some serious knitting done yesterday, before work and at lunch, and just before bedtime. I am within a couple of inches (I think) of halfway done on the ruana.

Beloved and Firstborn are both making noises about being at the temple tonight. Maybe they will be serving on the same session? I won’t know my schedule until I get there, but my bag is packed and ready to go. I am so thankful for this weekly opportunity to reset my internal clock to Heaven Standard Time. Everything sort of slows down when I am in the temple. It doesn’t matter if I am there as an ordinance worker, or as a patron. It just sets my world right, every time.

It was raining cats and dogs and little fishes when I went to work yesterday. There was a small river running off the end of our driveway. I managed to avoid stepping in that, but it was dark enough when I stepped off the curb, that I stepped right into another rivulet and got my sneakers (and feet) wet. Thankfully I am neither sugar nor salt, and did not melt.

I like working in the kitchen with Beloved. It is definitely a one-butt kitchen, so I take what I’m working on over to the breakfast table in the corner and work on it there. I’m out of his way, and vice versa, but we can talk and banter and grab the occasional quick smooch. We have not yet worked out a seamless rhythm, but this is only Day Twelve of our marriage. Wow, almost two weeks!

He definitely needs more sleep than I do, both from his natural rhythms and the added stress of fighting cancer. And he loves the snooze button. Right now the alarm is off, because I knew I was up for the count. Otherwise, it would be going off right about now, and it would go off every eight minutes until he turned it off and got up to fix breakfast.

I am getting totally spoiled by this. I am eating better (in terms of quality) than I have since I left the parental home. I am also recalibrating quantity. I knew how much food I needed to get through a workday when I was creating/packing it myself. My appetite has been all over the place this week. I go from ravenous to stuffed in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

It is getting less and less weird to be sharing a bed again. I don’t think I’m waking up much more often on a typical night than I was before we got married. The middle-aged bladder still rousts me at least once, most nights. And I am losing that sense of holy cow, there’s a man in my bed! Elbows and knees are becoming less of an issue when it’s time to sleep. I’m still having mobility challenges with my right hip, but I think walking together in the mornings will take care of that, over time. It’s raining again this morning, not as hard as yesterday, but enough that I am not interested in swimming around the block before breakfast. Thankfully, in a couple of days the kids will have all of their boxes out of the dining room, and I would theoretically have access to the exercise bike, so that is another option for mornings like this. I am coveting, a little, Beloved’s son’s recumbent bike, which will be emulating Elvis and leaving the building.

Right now I am thankful for a husband who sleeps like a rock. He said it wouldn’t bother him for the computer to be on, and he wasn’t kidding. (The reverse would not be true: even with the hissing of my CPAP, the clicking of the keys would bug me, as would the light from the monitor.) I will be thankful to have my own computer here, set up in what is probably going to be our joint office, so that I can bang away to my heart’s content when the Insomnia Fairy pays a call.

But in the meantime I am so very thankful for what I have.

A packer, but not from Green Bay

2012-01-25T05:55:00.003-06:00

So, Monday night Firstborn and I organized the contents of the couch and the coffee table. Last night I tackled a small project that has been bugging me for awhile. Took about an hour, and when I left the duplex I had that small glow of satisfaction that comes from crossing something off the honey-do list.

We are getting rain in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Light rain, heavy rain, intermittent rain. No walking this morning, because I do not want two showers before work. Sounds like a frog-strangler out there. Lots of rumbles and booms, not to mention flashes of lightning.

While driving to Fort Worth last night, I hit a patch of water and hydroplaned slightly. Thankfully, I had both hands on the wheel, and I took my foot off the gas, and two seconds later (and for the next minute or so) it was thankYou-thankYou-thankYou. Not enough time to be scared, even after the fact.

From the duplex, I drove to Knit Night, where I handed off bits of yarn to my friend Grace for her friend the art teacher. I was still coveting, slightly, the last couple of yards of purple Manos Lace (leftover from the shawlette I made for Lark last year), but hand it over I did.

Tonight I will not be driving to Fort Worth after work. Instead, we have a Blue and Gold dinner at church, and at least one of my new grandsons is a Cub Scout. Beloved and I are planning a quiet evening at home, after that, and a much earlier bedtime than I’ve had the past couple of nights.

The new commute is working out well. I drive the dreaded Central Expressway into downtown, and rather like the Dread Pirate Roberts, it’s not so scary.

Beloved tells me that breakfast is almost ready, so this is it for now. Happy Wednesday, y’all!

Tuesday morning.

2012-01-24T06:37:00.004-06:00

Work went well yesterday. I cleared another two days’ worth of mail, then headed to Fort Worth by way of Firstborn’s. I was hungry. She was hungry. So I scooped her up, and we went to my place by way of In N Out Burger (where we shared an order of fries with our burgers).

She helped me tackle the couch and coffee table. In an hour of work, we had all the sewing stuff together, all the knitting stuff together (and mostly in an open box), had found my thank-you notes so I can get started on that, another batch of printed-off knitting patterns which are now loosely tucked into a big notebook that is a souvenir of my Mary Kay Lady days. I need to pick up more plastic sleeves to hold those pages; there is still plenty of room in that notebook.

I dropped her off at her house at 9:44 and headed home. Beloved was dozing when I got there, but the porch light was on, a night light was on in our room, I slugged down some dark chocolate almond milk and a cookie, and it was lights out for Ms. Ravelled.

My friend Rebecca will not be at Knit Night tonight, so I will head back to Fort Worth after work, tackle what’s left in the kitchen, and come home (I hope) significantly earlier than I did last night.

Wish I could give you a visual of Chutzpah’s little bear sitting in the tee-ninetsy red wagon. But we’re thinking that the computer will come home with us on Friday night, when we plan on batting cleanup prior to getting the truck on Saturday morning.

The kids are really, truly, supposed to close on their house this morning. Beloved says that the last email they received, said that there were six closings ahead of them, and they should close yesterday afternoon late (not!) or sometime this morning.

Gotta go. There’s a dear man who needs a goodbye smooch, and then I’m out the door with grapes, some potato salad, the leftover salad from Sunday, and oh, I need to grab my hummus from the outside fridge and fix a half dozen skinny slices of cheese for the last of the melba toast in my cubby at work.

Be good. Remember who you are. You know the drill!

Sitting here with my mother-in-love’s dog.

2012-01-22T20:26:00.001-06:00

Who just trotted into the bedroom as if he owned the place. This would be Cricket-the-Dog, as opposed to Cricket-the-Cat, who belonged to Beloved’s late wife. The two Crickets get along famously, frequently curling up for a good snooze in the dog bed.

Good day at church, although I did not take quite enough yarn along for working on the ruana. I finished the stripe repeat about ten minutes before Beloved finished his clerk duties, so I danced through my inbox and posted a couple of responses on Facebook while I waited.

I am seriously digging being married, and not simply because of the food. Love him, love his family, the food is amazing [it would be a sin of ingratitude not to mention how good the food is, chez nous], the helpless fits of laughter are frequent and exhilarating. I like the ward. I like not being a Primary teacher. I like the Gospel Doctrine teachers, who are well-prepared and elicit lots of class participation. Relief Society rocks, pure and simple.

Mel and Squishy ordered Temperance a pair of black slacks for Christmas, which have been riding around in the bottom of my bag for a couple of weeks. Today after church I finally put them on her, and they are a perfect fit, and she is delighted to no longer be commando under her jumper.

When we were on our honeymoon, I picked up a key chain in one of the shops which is a wee replica of a Radio Flyer wagon. It’s just the right size for Chutzpah to haul her bear around in. This will be fun for photo shoots, once we have the house reorganized.

Tomorrow night Beloved will be feeding the missionaries, but I will be heading to Fort Worth right after work, to deal with some of the packing that only I can organize. There is stuff on the couch that has drifted out from my studio, and I need to take everything off the couch, sort it out, put it where it belongs, and then we can pack everything together by topic or interest. I am planning a shorter pack-fest on Tuesday, which is earmarked for Knit Night if my friend Rebecca will be there. She has several yards of fabric that I have promised to take off her hands, which I think will be suitable either for doll clothing or for me-clothing.

He is puttering out in the kitchen with the game on. I am enjoying a few minutes, guilt-free, to type in the manner to which I am accustomed. If he is in the room with me, I’d far rather be paying attention to him (not to mention it is also good manners).

Not spending much time on Facebook or the computer these days, but not missing either particularly much, except for my blog time.

I also got a great nap after church. A couple of hours’ worth. This whole sleeping together thing is a bit of a mixed blessing. Still trying to figure out what to do with elbows and knees, and how to rearrange myself if one of us rolls over. I am used to going to sleep on my left side, then rolling over on my back. So if I happen to be on my right side, there is some interference from my CPAP mask, because the air tube feeds in on the right and smooshes into my face, and sometimes it disorients the part that snugs up against my nose. I think I must have awakened 20 times, that first night together, mostly from the uh-oh-there’s-a-man-in-my-bed-no-wait-I-think-he-belongs-here-OK-back-to-sleep-now.

He says that last night the machine was noisier than usual, and he thought it was maybe not fitting me just right, and he asked if I was OK, and I said yes, none of which I remember. I do know that I woke up a lot last night, and I didn’t feel as rested, but the nap this afternoon seems to have taken care of that.

Dinner tonight was salmon burgers, and I made enough salad that there are leftovers for two days’ worth of lunches, and I’ll have another burger to take for dinner on the drive to Fort Worth tomorrow night, and he made his first attempt to replicate a dessert we had while on our honeymoon.

I think I will play an AARP game or two to sharpen up my brain, and then I’m heading out to the living room with my knitting, to watch him watch the game.

He just brought me a bowl, saying, “Here, have a bite of this. It’ll be better after it’s chilled overnight and set up a bit.” Homemade potato salad, for tomorrow’s non-drive-by fooding of the missionaries.

Seeya!

The kitchen is nearly packed.

2012-01-21T20:41:00.004-06:00

First thing we did, was to empty out the pretty chest of drawers in the living room, pack up or pitch its contents, and start filling the surrounding floorspace with towers of filled and labeled boxes. It never ceases to amaze me that two people, working well together, can accomplish things more than twice as fast as one person working alone. Synergy is a miraculous thing!

We packed for an hour or two, then went to lunch at Star Cafe, where we both had the chicken fried steak, cream gravy, salad (w/ranch), authentic (i.e., slightly lumpy) mashed potatoes, and a biscuit lightly flecked with cheese. Yes, I know, very little of it was on my good food list, and other than feeling parched because of the salt, no discernible consequences, i.e., crankiness, swelling, or whining from my bad ankle. Though I did get a little croupy at Firstborn’s because of Willow’s cat.

Who is in heat, and very vocal.

Beloved’s chemo pump is off, and so far there seem to be no side effects from this new drug. The neuropathy in his fingers seems to be going away.

I woke up at dark-thirty this morning and put several rows on the ruana before the rest of the household was up and about. So it’s been a longish day, with much to show for it, and I’m somewhat more tired than I would expect for it only being 9:00. I’m about ready to call it a night.

Current plan is for me to go to the duplex after work on Monday and pack up some or all of the stuff that needs to be packed by nobody but me, and put the trash and recycling out on the curb. On Tuesday I’ll hit Knit Night, pack more boxes if I didn’t finish on Monday, and bring the bins back in; then on Friday we’ll both head over there for any last-minute stuff, but we devoutly hope that when we go home that night we will be ready to start loading the truck bright and early Saturday morning, because now-eldest grandson is having a birthday party that afternoon. He turns 12 on Friday, which means another priesthood holder in the family on Saturday.

Night, y’all. [Yes, I’m still as happy as if I had good sense.]

He put a love note in my lunchbox!

2012-01-20T21:45:00.002-06:00

That was Wednesday, my first day back at work after our mini-moon. And then this morning, when I grabbed a neatly-rolled bundle of underwear another was tucked inside.

This is one seriously cool dude I have married!

Work went well again today. I dealt with either two or three days’ worth of mail, plus the day’s to-do’s, and by the time I left the office, I had a respectable-looking desk. And two more rows of knitting done between pre-work knitting and my lunch hour. I am nearly halfway done with the ruana that may turn out to be an afghan. I will need to make that decision fairly soon.

We went out for Japanese food tonight. I had their Scottish salmon but could detect no brogue. Just perfectly cooked fish with an impeccable and thoroughly fascinating sauce, plated on seven or eight small logs of asparagus, a little shredded lettuce, and thinly sliced/steamed?fried? yams and pumpkin, with a huge bowl of steamed rice.

I bought the Winter IK, their handmade-gifts issue, and the premier issue of another magazine that has a red cabled shrug on the cover and all sorts of neat stuff going on inside the magazine proper.

It’s almost 10:00, and we have a lot going on tomorrow: Beloved gets the chemo pump off, and we are going to try to finish packing up the duplex, even if we don’t move anything until next weekend. I want to swing by Firstborn’s and pick up the cake topper and the Scentsy stuff which she gave me a year or two ago for my birthday or Christmas; I had her keep it in the interim, because at the duplex I don’t have enough outlets to run a Scentsy burner.

My sweetheart has finished his puttering. Time for me to log off and go be a good wife. Later, gators!

Another wedding vignette.

2012-01-19T22:55:00.003-06:00

You will be getting this in dibs and dabs, as Beloved waited up for me to come home from my shift at the temple, and we have much to talk about.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

So, the morning of the wedding, I woke up and did some productive puttering before it was time to leave for the chapel. I loaded stuff into the car, fired Lorelai up, and was about five blocks from the house (as in, almost onto the freeway) before I realized that my wedding gown was still on the back of the couch. I was praying, which is probably the only reason that the Spirit’s “ahem, forget anything?” got through.

I turned Lorelai around, headed back to the church, and in due time peeled out of my street clothes, put on my slip, then my thigh-high lace stockings, and the garter, and reached for my shoes.

Which were still in their box, on the couch, at home. Thankfully, Lark and her boyfriend and Middlest-as-navigator were all willing and able to drive the 4-5 miles back to the house to fetch them.

The really cool thing is that I was not in the least upset, just a little sheepish, and grateful for my family.

I will leave you with the thought that you should cast your memories back to the final episode of M.A.S.H., which is what Beloved said I should do, in a conversation about a week or ten days before the wedding.

Radio silence.

2012-01-18T21:56:00.002-06:00

Ms. Tola thinks it’s deafening. Hey, y’all, canoodling takes a lot of energy that might otherwise be spent typing. He’s cutting into my knitting time as well. (He just pointed out that I don’t seem to be objecting a lot.) Plus, there was no internet connection at the cabin.

I took a lot of pictures of the interior of the cabin, which was charming. We had a wood stove, a creatively painted bathroom floor (sponge painting and stamping and free-hand water lilies). The outside was pretty cool as well, with a dock that meandered out into the bayou, tons of cypress stumps and Spanish moss.

On walking back to the cabin and observing all the cypress stumps, I told Beloved, “Maybe it’s just me, but those seem seriously ph_ll_c”. He cracked up. It was fairly indicative of the weekend. My inner gypsy had a field day.

He posted a link to Brad Paisley’s song “Ticks” and commented that both of us were certifiably tick-free.

Oh, wait, you probably want to hear about the wedding. There will be plenty of pictures, both here and on Facebook, once his firstborn gets them developed and/or sorted out. (Probably 2-3 weeks, as they still haven’t closed on their house.) Secondborn took a bunch as well, and lots of friends snapped candid shots after we moved back into the cultural hall for cake and punch and general insanity. There were brief appearances by his Green Bay Packers cap.

He asked me a couple of days before the wedding if I remembered the final episode of “MASH”. I did. He told me that he just wanted to give me a heads-up, that he was going for something like unto the kiss Hawkeye gave HotLips. Which he did, right after the “I do’s,” to thunderous applause, especially after I started tapping him on the back of his right shoulder with the forefinger of my left hand, as in “Please let me up for air.”

One of his sons says that Bishop was starting to get a little fidgety.

Good night, all. I have work in the morning, and he has chemo (a new drug), and he is cleaning off the bed from our evening spent unwrapping gifts and entering the information on Excel. I suspect he might have a different sort of unwrapping in mind...

He says I figure things out pretty well.

Tuesday. Cake. Laundry. Fried taters.

2012-01-10T19:46:00.002-06:00

I got all of my to-dos, to-done before leaving the office. Tomorrow is a me day. Fun and games at the dentist, followed by getting stuff waxed at the spa where my hair magician used to work. Or maybe still does; she has a new baby, so I’m not sure what her days look like now.

Blogging from Beloved’s, where the second load of laundry is in the dryer, perhaps an hour later than it should have been, because Ms. Twitterpated forgot to push the button to make the dryer go round and round.

I will be taking frozen cake over to Secondborn’s as soon as the laundry is done. I would like to stay later, but Beloved’s brother is here, and he is almost as much fun to talk to as Beloved is to kiss. Which is saying something.

Dinner tonight was two eggs, over easy and seasoned to perfection, a modest first portion of home fried potatoes, and a piggy second portion, plus one cautious experiment: a pork sausage, which thus far has not attacked my ankles.

Laundry is about done. Frozen cake is about to come out of the freezer and head for Fort Worth. Four dolls have made the move over here, so I can toss boxes around in the living room. I packed three boxes before breakfast.

Four days. Pritnear only three days.

Wonderful, but not entirely fair.

2012-01-09T17:12:00.000-06:00

I thought I would be a good fiancée and spend a little time working on Beloved’s neck and shoulders while he was sitting in his easy chair, waiting for us to invade his mother’s storage unit in search of something she needed for the upcoming nuptials. I figured that his neck would be as tight and tense as mine. It is not. He has good muscle tone, (there is nothing soft about that man, other than his heart) and his neck feels like neck, and his traps feel like traps, and his shoulders feel like shoulders. The man is relaxed!

Boggles. The. Mind. Because we know that you could hang a good-sized suspension bridge from each of my trapezius muscles and support morning rush hour quite well, and I probably wouldn’t even notice.

He is confident that once we are married, I will relax significantly (get your minds out of the gutter). I carry my kids on these shoulders. I carry my grandkids on these shoulders. I carry my church responsibilities on these shoulders. Yes, I share the load with Heaven, but nevertheless, pretty much anything that passes through my mind spends at least some time on my shoulders.

It will be nice to share that, or give a good chunk of it up entirely.

When I arrived at my desk this morning, there was a lovely bag waiting for me, a present for us from two of my co-workers. I did take pictures, but my home computer is still incommunicado, so you will have to wait. Inside were items as colorful as they are useful.

Film at 11. (I won’t say which day.)

Five days. Somebody asked him at church yesterday if he were starting to count the hours. For fun last night, in between smooches, we did a little mental math. Today, of course, it is less. As I post this, we are looking at a smidgen under 113 hours.

Three more days of the long commute. He thinks we can find something vastly more interesting to do with that time. I’m inclined to believe him.

Those who can’t, teach ;)

2012-01-08T12:50:00.003-06:00

With apologies to my friends who are excellent teachers. I taught Relief Society this morning in Beloved’s ward. Lesson prep kept me out of the pool halls all week, and my mind more or less off the honeymoon, and I learned things, and I assigned reading and got some great participation.

I do like teaching. I love the Church. I love the gospel upon which it is founded. I love the doctrines of the Restoration, and I am uncharacteristically jazzed about the lesson manual this year. This is not to diss any previous manuals. I am just really jazzed about this one.

Most of the brethren who lead the Church today were successful in earthly terms before being called to set aside their nets and go fish for men. I respect them enormously, and while I’m smart enough to know that they did not progress from ease to ease, it is difficult to think of them as having dealt with poverty, starvation, rebellious children, unemployment, debt, or other issues that the rest of us ordinary mortals have to deal with on a daily basis.

George Albert Smith, who died the year before I was born, had ill health much of his life, became visually impaired as a young adult, grew up in poverty and was not financially successful. Nevertheless, he developed character traits more valuable than a fat 401K while dealing with the ordinary stuff of life. This is a man I can relate to, and I am looking forward to getting to know him better.

I felt the Spirit every time I picked up the manual to study the lesson material. I felt the Spirit while I was teaching.

I learned this weekend that the Brethren have nixed the traditional wedding music in our chapels. So, no "here comes the bride" or the customary recessional. I have an email in to my bishop for our musical Plan B. I am not upset in the least about this, because the really important event will take place when Beloved and I are sealed in the temple once we are given clearance.

Saturday morning is about the legalities and about rejoicing with our friends and family who might otherwise not be able to participate. Saturday night is about the perks of marriage. About which I am trying not to think too much, because while blushing is very good for my complexion, it does tend to wear on one.

After church, I popped into the clerk’s office to hug Beloved and to introduce my BFFE from my childbearing years. As I left, I told him that I would let myself in, and when he got home he would find me unconscious on top of his bed, as opposed to next weekend, when he would find me unconscious in his bed. At which point he responded that he very much hoped I would not be unconscious when that time comes.

He is planning a little mischief for shortly after the ceremony. I am planning to enjoy it.

Six days, unless he’s the one doing the counting.

Bring on the weekend!

2012-01-06T16:56:00.002-06:00

I have wedding shower the second this evening, followed by snuggling with Beloved in his well-chaperoned living room, and then the long, groggy drive home to my own chaste boudoir, where visions of something more rowdy than sugarplums are likely to clutter my dreams.

We are eight days out, and the hormones are spiking, but thus far still no Bridezilla episodes.

There is nothing on my calendar for tomorrow. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I do plan on trucking over to the optical shop and having them put new pads on my new specs, because the factory-issue ones are digging to China on the left side of my nose, and I’d like for everything to heal up before the big day.

Other than that, I foresee a little cooking, a lot of packing, and oh please, more knitting than I have seen since Tuesday night.

My checkbook is balanced. Me? not so much. My back is tight, my hip is aching, the twinge in my knee has returned, and I think it is pure and simple repression, which will continue unabated until shortly after we arrive at the cabin next weekend.

Catching a bit of a break.

2012-01-05T16:38:00.000-06:00

In the old days, when a client gave us a disc with photos or a video, it was a simple matter to save it to the file. We got one recently with about three dozen photos on it. This time around, I had to convert each image to a PDF and save it to my desktop. Then I combined the images according to topic and saved those combinations. Then I converted three videos to zip files and saved them. Then I started importing them into the new system. And, finally, I dragged and dropped each item on my desktop into the recycle bin. All told, perhaps 45 minutes to do what would have taken me 45 seconds to do, before. On the other hand, I am now a whole lot faster at it than I was when I opened that disc.

In other news, Beloved’s platelet count was low, so no chemo this week. That means he gets to drink cold beverages until his next chemo in two weeks, because the sensitivity from the last round of chemo is wearing off.

We have a winner in the cake trials! It would seem that I was truly inspired when I suggested combining a spice cake mix with a carrot cake mix. We got height, we got great texture, and we got amazing flavor. [And I’ve got the last slice in my fridge at home. Hey, he wanted it out of his house. I do try to be obliging!] My slice of cake was dinner last night. I finished my bison burger at lunch today.

I had a really good, productive day at work today. It is great to feel as if I know what I’m doing, once more.

Fun with food and friends

2012-01-04T17:00:00.000-06:00

We had lunch at Screen Door, a foo-foo place in Big D’s Arts District. I had a bison burger with feta. Yes, I know that the food analysis back in September said “no beef”, but strictly speaking, it wasn’t. And when I went to the churrascaria with Brother Sushi on Monday night, I ate sirloin, chicken breast (carefully picking off the bacon but enjoying the flavor it gave my chicken), a couple bites of pork tenderloin, with no discernible reaction. So I concur with Beloved that a recheck by a conventional medical practitioner is in order (it was on my honey-do list, anyway), and I will take care of getting a referral in the next few weeks. Or months, depending upon how busy married life keeps me.

Work is going suspiciously well. While I am not up to my former speed, I am getting there.

And now I am heading to Beloved’s. Today is my future mother-in-love’s 82nd birthday, and I have a B&N gift card in her name. Trying to score some serious good d-i-l points there. We will have cake at 6:00, and then I will accompany them to church, where his second grandson has Pinewood Derby tonight.

As I gave birth to five daughters, I know nada about said activity, so this will be considerably out of the box for me, and I am looking forward to it. After that, we are going to do something about dinner. At which point I might actually be hungry again. I am still full from lunch, and that was half of my burger, five hours ago.

Life at the moment is even more delicious than usual.

In which your intrepid heroine has adventures.

2012-01-03T17:11:00.002-06:00

The first one, entirely positive, involved procuring our marriage license.

We took his firstborn son’s advice and went to a satellite county office, where the lines were shorter and the employees were civil. (As befits civil servants. A soupçon of bureaucratic humor, if you will.)

That burned an hour and forty-five minutes of PT.

When I got to work, we discovered that the bus/train passes which are needed tomorrow morning, were not here. The person who was supposed to pick them up last week, drove in all week, had the check to purchase the tickets with her, and was off work today. (She was under the impression that because the passes expire tomorrow, she could pick up the new ones when she came into work; unfortunately, they expire at 3:00a.m.)

So I got to take a company car, drive within a couple of miles of Beloved’s house, pick up the check, bring back the company car, bump another company car while trying to park The Behemoth (fill out an intra-office accident report), walk the check over to the DART station and come back with the passes, which I then distributed.

And then I went to lunch, about 45 minutes later than my usual late lunch. It has made for an extremely short afternoon.

In a few days, this will be funny. Thankfully, the office manager laughed (a little) when I told her I’d hit one of our other pool cars.

So, I have had an extra hour of driving today, and a brisk walk in brisk weather, and fresh air and sunshine and rosy cheeks, and people get to ride the buses and trains tomorrow, and other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, I have very little to show for this day.

I told Beloved that I wish we were already married, because this is one of those days where, (if I were still a drinking woman, there would be some serious elbow-bending once I got home,) an evening of mommy-and-daddy would do wonders for my frazzled nerves.

Eleven days. And now goodnight, because I have an appointment with NailDude to fix the thumbnail which I broke getting into Lorelai on Saturday, or maybe Sunday morning (I forget), and the little finger nail which is about to fly off and go into orbit.

Ms. Ravelled, quietly falling apart here in BigD. Over, and out.

(Bridal shower the first, tomorrow at lunch, tee hee!)

Seriously cutting into my knitting time.

2012-01-01T15:53:00.003-06:00

On the other hand, the hugging, et al, is very nice. I had a really good day yesterday, working on wedding stuff. I found and installed new buttons on the wedding dress. I finished, really and truly stick in a fork in me I’m done finished, the corsages. I scored a dozen red pseudo-velvet bows at Michael’s on Christmas closeout at 59 cents apiece, as opposed to the box of pre-made wedding bows (white) for $49.99. Feeling a little smug about that.

Friday night I picked up the cake tower. The box was open. I put it in Lorelai’s trunk and headed to Lane Bryant, where I bought four new bras (one comfy but colorful, three racy) and five pairs of coordinating panties [reminds me of the old joke: six beautiful chorus girls, five beautiful costumes]. All of which are divvied up into gallon Ziploc bags and stowed in the honeymoon bag.

From thence to downtown BigD, armed with my driving directions. Which didn’t work. I stopped at the office, changed into a dress and confirmed directions with the security dude, and tried again. No such luck. I drove around for about half an hour, as it was getting darker and darker, and the neighborhood was getting scarier and scarier, and I was getting hungry and tired and more frustrated and finally just plain scared. So I called Beloved and headed to his house, where he held me until I stopped twitching.

Then we took the cake tower out of the box and started to play with putting it together, which is when we discovered that seven pieces were missing and it had been used: telltale green smear of icing on one of the support pieces, and more green icing on the assembly sheet. I took it back yesterday and got a refund and another 50% off coupon, which I will use tomorrow at another location. (I had bought the only box that store had.)

Dinner last night was baked potatoes, baked cod, his veggie sautee, and a small bowl of posole which the neighbors had brought over. Hominy is a sad thing to do to a perfectly good kernel of corn, but posole goes a long way toward redeeming it. Dessert was a sliver each of two test cakes when we came home from the dance. These would be contenders 3 and 4 for our wedding cake. The spice cake rose wonderfully and tastes better-than-OK. The carrot cake did not rise well, but the flavor is terrific. Tomorrow he is going to combine a box of each and see if we get the height of the spice cake and the flavor and moisture of the carrot cake. If so, that will be the wedding cake. And we have a friend in his ward who used to bake cakes, so she can loan us her cake leveler and a 12” pan.

I have bought the long tablecloths for the banquet tables, also the forks and the napkins, and priced out the rest of the stuff we need. I have transferred the information from our eVites into a spreadsheet, and I need to go into FB and pull that information as well, and then have Beloved add to it from the responses he has received.

He is snoozing quietly on the bed (they look so innocent when they are asleep). I am getting my internet fix.

What to say about the dance last night. The decorations were lovely: Christmas trees of varying heights, grouped in twos and threes, festooned only with white fairy lights. The food was good as well, a nice mixture of healthy and festive. I found several things that I could eat with a clear conscience. The music? Well, the younger generation seemed to enjoy it. We left about 9:40, in part because we were both tired, and also because the music was too loud and we had already hugged all or most of our friends.

Came back here, tried the cakes, visited quietly until it was midnight, then he kissed me, and I drove home. Two major wrecks on LBJ between one exit and the next, and I think a total of four during the course of the evening. I barely, barely made it home awake, falling into bed about 1:30 and getting approximately five hours of sleep. I tried to catch a catnap after church while Beloved was dealing with the tithing at church, but no such luck.

I am going to have to catch a few winks before I try to drive home again tonight.

Tomorrow night I am going to eat churrascaria with Brother Sushi, retrieve my spare key from Secondborn, and pack as many boxes as humanly possible between sunup and bedtime. I’ve already alerted the neighbors that there will be unusual cars and unusual activity chez moi for the next several weeks, and why.

And oh? I volunteered to teach Relief Society next Sunday. That will keep my mind on scriptures instead of honeymoon, but I’ve gotta tell you, a sixteen year old has nothing on me in terms of the-sap-is-rising.

So glad that I only have 13 days (almost, only 12) of this crazy commute, and then I can settle in chez Beloved. We are getting our license on Tuesday morning.

I am the poster child for crazy-tired. And I am heading out to the kitchen for more water, and thence to the AARP website, because the Sudoku is calling my name.

My vagrant earring has flown home.

2011-12-30T16:10:00.001-06:00

It was hanging from a pushpin on the bulletin board in the break room and is now resting quietly with its mate on Lorelai’s front passenger seat.

I have a 50% off coupon for Michael’s and will head that way after work, the better to pick up the cake stand I’ve had my eye on.

Our first wedding gift arrived today.

I am also going bra shopping. Ordinarily I opt for the white, semi-orthopedic ones that are designed to mask the effects of working in an overly cooled office building. However, I am thinking more in terms of the sort that are designed to be worn for approximately fifteen seconds before they are removed by an exuberant spouse and sent flying into the far corners of the room. Lane Bryant is having a sale, and there is one bra in particular which is perfectly modest, and perfectly hilarious, and I hope they still have it in my size.

I’ll wait for my children to stop twitching.

Heading out to pick up a Brita pitcher and two boxes of filters from one of my yarnie friends, and then I start shopping. Wedding reception at 7:00 for BestFriend’s kid.

Beloved’s after that, because it’s been two or three days since I have been well and truly kissed.

There may or may not be posting over the weekend. We have a New Year’s Eve dance tomorrow night, but I make you no promises, other than the one that I will, as ever, behave myself.

Making a list. Checking it twice.

2011-12-29T16:42:00.001-06:00

Last night I finished (lightly, not so much as you’d notice) beading the bodice of my wedding gown. Something like 26 beads across the back yoke. And became dissatisfied with the very plain plastic buttons on each cuff, so I will replace them with something subtly spiffier. If I can find very white natural shell buttons, I think that is what I want. I’ll look tomorrow after work, since I will have three hours between when I leave the office and when I need to be at BestFriend’s baby girl’s wedding reception.

I also put the finishing touches on the garter, and I am ridiculously pleased with it.

Whipped up the last two corsages, one for the pianist and one for the soloist. Still have not decided how to attach the wrist corsages to our collective herd of daughters. No doubt inspiration will smack me upside the head one night while I am lying awake at dark-thirty and the fabric and/or craft stores are closed.

Tonight I go serve in the temple. It’s been a wonderfully, quietly productive day. I love how that feels.

On the other hand, I have lost two, or maybe three, earrings in as many weeks. Last week it was a copper enamel one I’d had for years, sent to me by my sister and engraved with the maker’s name on the reverse. Something from Vashon Island, if I remember correctly. And last night one of my new feathered earrings migrated south for the winter. Maybe I should just stick to post earrings.

I found my grandmother’s pearl studs this morning and was reminded that one is missing a back. These are the old-fashioned ones with the slightly thicker posts, where the back screws onto the post. I vaguely remember that one back went missing maybe ten or twelve years ago. (Yes, yes, I have a screw loose. Ba dum bum ching!) So it is likely to be impossible to match the pitch of a new screw-back to the pitch of the post. And my cheapie white pearls from Target have grown legs and walked off. Or fins and swum away. I will probably find them as I finish up the packing, but probably not in time for the wedding.

Still, there is good news: my reimbursement for my new glasses will hit next Tuesday, which means that in theory I could order “Hope” to complete my trifecta of Faith, Hope, and Charity. Or I could save it for spending money on our mini-moon.

I love how God keeps His promises. There is no logical way for me to have had sufficient gas money to keep going this week, and yet I did. It is the day before payday, and I have three-fourths of a tank of gas, and I still have (a very little) money in my savings accounts and my checking account, and I am eating a chicken salad sandwich between sentences, and there is Greek yogurt for dessert, and just enough leftover oatmeal in the fridge at home to warm up for breakfast tomorrow. That may not be your idea of “enough and to spare”, but I am elated!

Tomorrow my various and sundry accounts will be replenished (but not from the East, nor with soothsayers; Brother Isaiah would be so pleased! [chapter 2, verse 6]), and I will buy enough fresh fruit and veggies to last me two weeks, and then it will be picnic basket + Jellystone Park + Beloved.

Spice, spice, baby!

2011-12-28T17:11:00.001-06:00

So, we are agreed on the type of cake. Spice cake is tasty, visually interesting, and not likely to set off digestive bells and whistles. And we can make a huge one for a pittance.

All the paper invitations have gone out (at least until we get word that we need to send more). Kristen, I just figured out how to add you to the eVite list, and I sent one your way.

Tomorrow BittyBit is seven. Boggles the mind. Next year she will be old enough to be baptized.

I had a lovely, productive day at work. All the angst of week before last was ultimately worth it.

When I got on the scale at work this morning, preparing to be seriously bummed by the results of three weeks of Christmas goodies appearing (and disappearing) from the break room, I had a happy surprise: the needle was farther to the left than it has been all year! I credit the enzymes; it’s the only possible explanation.

I resisted the urge to devour the chocolate frog which my attorney brought me back from Harry Potter Land, in celebration; I ate three peppermints instead.

Beloved sent me home with leftover salad and steamed veggies last night. I had the salad with my lunch today. I could taste the love in every bite.

This is the part where I go home and finish the last dab of beading on my wedding dress. And get to bed sometime before midnight.

As you can tell from the brevity of my paragraphs, my thoughts are going every which way. Seventeen days, unless I’m still awake at midnight, in which case it will be sixteen.

Can I get a yeehaw?

Deep, cleansing, Christmas-cookie-flavored breath!

2011-12-27T17:08:00.000-06:00

Wow! What a weekend! That blur you saw whizzing past? Probably me, either towing Beloved or being towed by him.

His present to me was perfect: a red(!) scrapbook to be filled with engagement and wedding stuff. A package of silver and white stickers to help out with that task. Prints of some of my favorite pictures.

I had dinner with Trainman on Friday night. Woke up about 3:30 on Christmas Eve and did a bit of holiday baking and put together the goodie boxes. Took a nap from about 9:30 until 2:30 that afternoon, then fluffed and foofed and headed over his way for his family’s Christmas Eve festivities. Drove home, slept a little – a very little – as I was awakened at 2:30 when I tried to roll over, by my ACL howling in protest. (I had LittleBit’s honey, a physical therapist, take a look at it at dinner on Sunday; it’s strained, but it’s not torn.) I did catch a few more hours of sleep, then drove like a bat out of Houston back to Beloved’s for the Christmas morning festivities, after which we drove to Firstborn’s ward, where she and Secondborn and LittleBit and I sang in sacrament meeting. From there to Secondborn’s for dinner.

Squishy and Mel accompanied us, and had a blast. My kids like them as much as they like my kids. This bodes well.

After dinner, we went back to Beloved’s, where he watched the Packers play, and I took a catnap so that I wouldn’t go off the road on the drive back to Fort Worth.

Yesterday morning was another party, breakfast for LittleBit’s birthday at Secondborn’s house. Where, in talking with the children’s father, I found myself asking him if he wanted to come to the wedding. He did. (I know, I know. Remember, the surest way for me to know that something is inspiration, is if it is something that is good and decent, that would not ordinarily occur to me.)

The lion’s share of the paper invitations went out in today’s mail. And as soon as I hit “send” and shut down my workstation, I am headed back to Beloved’s for dinner and, presumably, the launching of the eVites. If you want one and you have moved, or you aren’t sure we have your email address, message me here (not at the old Yahoo! address) or over on FB.

I am hungry, tired, disheveled (what, pray tell, is heveled?) and in need of more sleep than is likely tonight. But I am happy, and we are making progress on the wedding preparations, and we still like one another, so that is good.

My contender for the wedding cake has been crossed off the list. Taste is lovely, texture is heavier than he thinks appropriate. There will be further experimentation this week.

Let them eat cake. Quite possibly from Costco if we don’t find a more snazzy solution in the next couple of days.

OK, I’m outta here.

I am sitting here, eating cherries.

2011-12-23T15:54:00.003-06:00

Because life is just a bowl full of them, right? These ones are the candy-covered, chocolate-covered ones from Harry and David. And are probably not on what I laughingly call my diet, but they are delicious, and I am enjoying them.

Got the call from my eye doctor that my new glasses are ready, so I will be heading out in five minutes to pick them up.

Bridal shower with the work bunch is all set up. Foo-foo lunch, with a side order of frivolity before heading back to work.

I put ten rounds on the Christmas project while I was sitting in traffic on the Tollway en route to the temple last night. And promptly frogged seven of them after examination this morning. Angry knitting is not pretty knitting. I would knit three stitches, creep forward ten feet, knit three more, creep forward a couple of car lengths, etc etc etc. I was fifteen minutes late for the prayer meeting, so I skipped it.

Quite possibly will be radio silence until Christmas or thereafter. So merry merry, and happy happy, and may none of you find a lump of coal in the bottom of your stocking this year.

I love to see the temple…

2011-12-22T16:59:00.000-06:00

I’m going there tonight. It’s been a good day. I am not quite up to speed with the new programs here at work, but I am significantly closer than I was, and it makes for far less angst in my traps, neck, and upper back.

Beloved’s siblings would like to have lunch together after the wedding (when we had planned on making a quick getaway to the honeymoon cabin). I had hoped to check on availability of one of my favorite Tex-Mex restaurants, but I have been busier than the proverbial paper-hanger today.

Maybe tomorrow, when plaintiff attorneys are just about guaranteed to be out golfing or otherwise goofing off?

Had a blast at dinner with BFFE/early days last night. There is a fragment of leftover Thai omelette in my fridge, along with a handful of rice. All of it too good to throw away. Dinner with Trainman tomorrow night.

As you can tell, my brain is skittering like drops of water on a hot griddle. And this will not be an early night, but I will be trailing the peace of the temple behind me, all the way home and all through the night.

Can’t. Wait.

Nothing much to see here, just keep moving, folks.

2011-12-21T17:11:00.001-06:00

The shoes came. They are very plain. I am not disappointed, other than in the fact that they were not the white patent ones available on close-out in almost any size but my own. I think white patent clogs would have been spiffy. And we all know how I feel about the “no patent leather after Labor Day” rule (i.e., foolish traditions of the mothers, since we haven’t had real patent leather in decades, the kind where you had to grease them up with Vaseline to get them through the winter). I think these very plain shoes will lend themselves to a discreet amount of beading.

I have cast on the last knitted gift. It is a very, very small project. I may be knitting on it come Christmas morning, but I am reasonably sure that I will not be giving half a gift to one of my beloved granddaughters. And that is all that I am going to say on the matter, for now.

Another good day at work. And I am headed out to meet my BFFE from my childbearing years, to Thai one on. And run the beading idea past her for a sartorial reality check.

Dances with wolves, lunches with lawyers

2011-12-20T17:02:00.000-06:00

Two of my attorneys invited me to lunch with the rest of their staff today. We tried out one of the restaurants in the new Omni Hotel in downtown BigD. This is the edifice which ate my favorite parking space. I am somewhat mollified after lunch. I had a bison burger with goat cheese, and they substituted a fruit cup for the parmesan fries. (Yes, I know I should not eat beef; bison is not beef. Don’t ask, don’t tell.)

I got Mount Washmore checked off the list last night. It was an amazingly productive evening: spare floral bits returned, my sister’s Christmas gift mailed, and in bed relatively early.

Allegedly, my wedding shoes will be here tomorrow.

And now I am headed out the door for Beloved’s annual Chanukah dinner. With a little discreet smooching for dessert, once we shoo the missionaries out the door.

My brilliant children! And wedding stuff.

2011-12-19T17:00:00.001-06:00

Firstborn graduated cum laude yesterday afternoon. And LittleBit has a 4.0 after her first semester of college. Proving, in both instances, that when one waits until one is ready for college, one tends to do well. Or in this case, two tend to do well.

I left Beloved’s a little after midnight yesterday morning, after slaving over the mailing list. Still not done, but making noticeable progress.

Tomorrow I go over there for Chanukah. Yes, we’re Christian. We still think Chanukah is cool. He is feeding the missionaries, and we will eat some of the traditional foods, and he has a menorah, and once we chase the elders out, we will work some more on the mailing list and maybe smooch a little.

I had a great day at work today. I have whittled my to-do’s down to manageable size, cleared up some weird/missing/duplicate entries in the docketing system, and pretty much gotten my desk under control.

And now I am headed out, to mail off my sister’s Christmas present and then to tackle Mount Washmore. I am not quite ready to wash my unmentionables at Beloved’s house. Although if I poop out on the drive home, I may have to do just that.

Firstborn and Fourthborn and I spent the better part of eight hours on Saturday, assembling my bouquet, and my throwing bouquet (I did a practice fling over the shoulder, and I did not hit the ceiling fan, and the bouquet landed a respectable distance behind me, so I am not likely to either clock somebody on the big day, or embarrass myself with a repeat of my softball throw in fourth grade. Underhand: 50 feet straight up, landing a foot and a half in front of me. Guess which distance got measured?) Not to mention various corsages, boutonnieres, et al.

Life is good. And we are 26 days out...

A beautiful day in the neighborhood.

2011-12-16T16:33:00.002-06:00

On Wednesday I was squarely in Henry-VI mode (“The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.”) I would now appear to be in remission. I am caught up on filing my mail. My desk is approaching its normal level of tidiness. My to-do’s are mostly to-done, and I have three days next week to get them all checked off and two cases closed, before my favorite attorney returns.

In other news, we have a firm date for the wedding: 14 January, 10:00a.m., my meetinghouse. Tomorrow morning I will get together with some of my kids, and we will put together my bouquet, the corsages, and the boutonnieres. I still have not found the perfect (i.e., attractive and comfortable) shoes to go with my wedding dress. Nor have I figured out what to do as hair ornamentation, other than the firm resolve it will not be yet another veil. So done with veils.

If you are not a Facebook friend, and you want an e-vite, please email me at the google address or respond in a comment (Jerilyn and Robi, you are already on the list).

I am skipping Beloved’s ward Christmas party in favor of a massage and an early bedtime.

I attempted to mail my sister’s gift on the way to work, but the 24/7 post office now has shorter hours. So I will take care of that tomorrow, which is already going to be crazy-busy, but what’s one more thing, right?

And now if you will all excuse me, I have 23 minutes before it’s time to shut down the popsicle stand, and no work to do, and I am going to check out the Dansko outlet.

His fortune, my fortune.

2011-12-12T21:27:00.002-06:00

Mine: “Sail into the land of opportunity - treasures await!” Suitably generic, although if I give it a honeymoon slant, it’s good for a grin or two.

His: “You have the ability to excel in untried areas.”

Me: *snort*

Him: “Hey, keep it clean, keep it clean!”

So, maybe not untried, but definitely fallow.

Work today was way better than in recent weeks. I was justifiably tired by the time I got to Beloved’s, but I managed to slog through ten days’ worth of mail, and all but one item of the eleventh day’s. I still have three new cases to open, plus another that was tossed on my desk near the end of the day. As Miz Scarlett was wont to say, “I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”

We drove up into the frozen north to take engagement pictures. Much hilarity. His eldest is our photographer, and he has a wicked sense of humor. [Not unlike his father’s.]

They just walked in, and I really don’t have a lot more to say, so I’m going to steal a few quick smooches and head for home. I might even get a box or two packed before I crash for the night. This will be the first night I’ve been in bed before midnight since maybe last Wednesday.

Tomorrow night I’m getting a manicure, and then I am coming home and going to bed, because Wednesday night is his ward’s temple night, and Thursday is my regular shift at the temple, Friday is a well-earned massage, and Saturday is another whirlwind of activity.

Life is good. 33 days.

In which your intrepid heroine laughs at herself.

2011-12-09T17:11:00.001-06:00

Day before yesterday, or thereabouts, I mislaid the leather cover for my cell phone. I checked the loo on our floor. I inquired at the management office and with building security. Nada.

This afternoon, as I was finishing up work on a case which I had opened two days ago, the case fell out of the claim file.

In other breaking news, Beloved’s Christmas present arrived in today’s mail.

And I am heading out the door to meet Firstborn and sundry others for LittleBit’s dance recital at the college tonight. I am leaving behind me a desk which looks far more like what I’m accustomed to seeing at the end of a day/week. The massive, demoralizing piles of stuff have been wrangled into small, neat stacks, and while my attorney is still seeing all the stuff that isn’t yet done, I am seeing light at the end of the tunnel.

Tomorrow is crazy-busy. I have myself booked from sunup until dark-thirty. I’ll pick up boxes from Secondborn, get my nails done, meet Beloved to attend the temple wedding of some of his friends, and then go with him to a dinner/discussion at an outlying stake.

No, I haven’t looked at my Primary lesson for Sunday morning. Sufficient unto the day are the weevils thereof.

A silver sixpence...

2011-12-08T17:05:00.000-06:00

… along with half a dozen perfectly delightful magnets, arrived from Tola Faery today. Thank you, ma’am!

Not only did I enjoy a little genteel smooching with Beloved last night, I also got to meet several of the adult women in his ward, who were there for tithing settlement. Several great conversations.

I made significant progress at work today. And now I am headed out the door for the temple.

Be good, and remember Whose you are.

Another drive-by smooching, woohoo!

2011-12-07T17:14:00.001-06:00

My hair magician called to say that her neighborhood had been without power since about noon. We have rescheduled for next week. I have also booked an appointment with an esthetician she recommended, for massive waxing of the Ravelled frame, pre-wedding. I don’t trust myself with tweezers or a razor that close to the Big Day.

My pretty stockings arrived in the mail today. I am now only waiting on Beloved’s Christmas present, which should be here anytime between Friday and next Wednesday.

December is filling up fast.

I am feeling a little more effective with the new systems at work, and I am waking up each morning after approximately six hours of sleep, fairly consistently. The respiratory yuck is nearly gone. I have hardly coughed today, and what coughing there was, was nowhere near as eye-popping as on Sunday or Monday.

Beloved’s family has a tradition of hanging ginormous stockings on the mantle at Christmas. I joked that for next year, we should get a pair of red fishnet hose and hang one with the more traditional ones. He thinks that’s a great idea, and there might be one hanging there this year.

I’ve warned him that pretty much, whatever is on my mind, comes out of my mouth. This one may bite me in the ankle.

He’s got tithing settlement tonight, and since I am not in the mood to go home and pack boxes, I will grab dinner and go make mischief (and out, a little) in the clerk’s office.

No alarums; one excursion

2011-12-06T17:10:00.001-06:00

Dinner with Beloved, last night, was just what the doctor ordered. Chicken breasts sizzled in butter with plenty of pepper; sautéed spinach and mushrooms; steamed cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower (I am not becoming a convert, yet, but he seasons everything so well that I can even eat yucky vegetables without gagging). After dinner, we tossed my laundry from his washer into his dryer and took a little drive.

We headed for the park where he proposed. And, mostly, we talked. And it was very, very sweet and tender and respectful.

I was able to talk through some of my frustrations at work, and to put the sinus problems / borderline bronchitis into context. Consequently, I went home far more relaxed than when I awoke yesterday morning, and when I woke up today I was barely stuffy and hardly coughing. It has been a relatively quiet day, and my second consecutive productive day at work, and I am ready to head out for a manicure, if NailDude is available, or to go to Knit Night if he is not (but not for long, as I really ought to make an early night of it). The Relief Society Christmas social is tonight, and I have my contribution in the trunk for their professional clothing drive to support a local charity. I also have a car full of boxes that are the perfect size for books, and I’m thinking that maybe I just want to be a hermit (albeit a hermit with pretty nails) and pack as many boxes as I can before I have to pack it in for the night.

We laughed a little, as he bundled me into my car, about how we are both sorely tempted to just elope and get on with the happily-ever-after part. But there are too many people on both sides of the family who would be hurt, or livid, so we will continue to be good kids.

Engagement pictures next Monday night; pray for a good hair day.

39 days.

P.S. Send up some love and prayers for my friend Tan, and for her family; she lost her mother-in-love this week.

Posting at lightning speed.

2011-12-05T17:02:00.004-06:00

Or as fast as I can go, given that the Bronchitis Fairy has smacked me upside the lungs. I am heading to Beloved’s for dinner and a neck rub and some hand-holding. He had chemo this morning. Daughter-in-law will be cooking. And my stomach is yodeling for sustenance.

Picked up his ring on Saturday. It’s beautiful, and you could drive a truck through it. Just what you would expect for a superhero’s ring. I will try to remember to take a picture of it with a quarter for scale.

While I remember: Tola: 1952, 1949, 1975 (when I joined the church), or just make up a date. And where did you find the Christmas cards? I would love to get some for next year, when I might have the time, the funds, and the inclination to send out Christmas cards for the first time in decades.

I ordered his Christmas present this morning. We are already starting to have our little private jokes, and I think this will tickle him immensely.

I’m outta here!

Another marginally productive day.

2011-12-02T16:56:00.003-06:00

But I do seem to be picking up speed. My desk is still a wreck. Three years ago, it would not bother me. But I have been working for my attorney long enough that clutter on my desk now drives me a little nuts. (At home, not so much, although we count all the small victories.)

I got the birthday cake to work, intact.

I managed to stay awake all day, get the two critical reports done for Attorney B out in a timely fashion, and wrangle two hot potatoes for my attorney. I ate my lunch (sandwich, seriously yummy) at my desk and spent my lunch hour communing with the current knitting project.

I am now logging off and heading to the massage therapist. I have a number of errands tomorrow: picking up a superhero-sized wedding ring, looking for the last detail to complete my garter, getting a two-month supply of enzymes (which I have not been taking for at least three weeks now, and I can definitely feel the difference).

After the massage therapist, I foresee salmon and the usual veggie suspects at Black Eyed Pea, and then an early bedtime. Maybe just an early bedtime.

I leave it all in your capable hands.

Brutal day.

2011-12-01T17:01:00.002-06:00

I did manage to get a new case opened and most of the discovery ready to go. I’ll finish that tomorrow. Also maybe half of a report (one of two) which has to go out tomorrow for Attorney B.

On the other hand, I (we) got a Christmas card from Tola and her hubby. Knitterly humor, and much appreciated. And the jewelry store called to say that Beloved’s ring is ready. And last night my wedding dress was waiting on the front porch when I got home from the drive-by smooching.

Speaking of which, it’s time for me to shut everything down, brush a tooth, and scoot out the door toward the temple. Beloved is meeting me there for dinner before my shift.

I am tired and most everything hurts, from my fingers to my wrists to my neck. But notwithstanding all that, I am still as happy as if I had good sense.

44 days.

He never ceases to surprise me.

2011-11-30T17:00:00.002-06:00

(This is not a bad thing.) One of our friends is a gifted photographer. Beloved posted a link on Facebook, a picture of the groom spelunking amidst yards and yards of tulle in search of the garter. I allowed as how that was not going to happen at our reception.

First, because my wedding dress is not a Barbie dress (she looked lovely, and her style is not my style). Second, because I intend to park the garter just below my patella, thus displaying a bit of ankle and maybe a swathe of calf, but nothing in hey-sailor territory. Third, because Beloved might be a great one for teasing, but he would never do anything to embarrass me (nor I, him).

I think the guys in my office have seen my calves maybe half a dozen times in the ten years I have been working here. I am mostly a jeans girl, or dress slacks, or long skirts. I don’t want any of my co-workers to faint, or be snow-blinded.

Cake topper arrived yesterday. I ordered his ring this afternoon. My dress should be here in the next few days. The garter is mostly-sewn, and I have had second thoughts about its embellishment. What I chose, would be lovely; what I have in mind would be memorable.

Today was a far more productive, and far less stressful, day spent wrangling the new systems at work. While I didn’t get anywhere near as much accomplished as either my attorney or I would have liked, I am truly hopeful of being caught up by close of business on Friday. I even remembered to order the cake for Friday’s birthday celebration.

Jury is out on whether I will remember to pick it up on Friday morning.

As Beloved has tithing settlement tonight, and we have not seen one another since Sunday, and I fell asleep last night before he got home from his clerkly duties (ergo, no me on the other end of the phone when he called), I am doing another drive-by smooching after work. I told him not to expect me until I got there. Sprouts is having a sale on blackberries, and I fully intend to get my share of them. And maybe a healthy little treat for him and the other brethren who are slaving over a hot keyboard tonight.

45 days [tee hee]

Busy, spendy day

2011-11-28T17:30:00.005-06:00

Bought the flowers for my bouquet, boutonnières for the guys and corsages for the girls, pre-ordered Beloved’s ring (because it doesn’t come in superhero size). And now have florist wire and florist tape, but will wait on the ribbons until everything is assembled, then take finished objects to the craft store for matching purposes.

Also ordered the white lace stockings. This morning I partially assembled the garter. I want to look for an alternate trim to finish it off.

Land line at home is cancelled. Now to reconcile my checkbook, and then will head for home.

This has been a magical staycation. Who knew that I could be so happy, being at home for nearly two weeks?

Life is good.

Beloved gets blog privileges.

2011-11-27T19:59:00.002-06:00

I am blogging from his computer. And he is reading over my shoulder.

Church today went well. My ring is still gorgeous. He is still such a good guy. I would say all these things even if he were sitting in another room.

That stealth project I was mentioning? Forgot to tell you that this whole mushy business was that stealth project, but you probably already figured it out.

I am shutting down the land line at home, will keep my computer at home for printing off labels and organizing the move, the reception, et al.

Wedding gown is ordered, and cake topper will be here by the end of the week. Just found the white lace stockings that I want to wear and have emailed the information to myself. I can’t access it from home, or at work, but I can order it from Secondborn’s, or I can order it from here on a day other than the Sabbath.

We have had an interesting series of discussions, while I have been on his computer looking at one website or another. He now knows a whale of a lot about me. There has been some blushing. Not all of it mine. And a lot of healthy laughter.

And now if you will all excuse me, it’s time to head back out to the kitchen for a little smooching, and then I need to go pick up Middlest, who is spending the night at my house, and the day with me tomorrow, and tomorrow night as well, and on Tuesday I will drop her at the airport on my way to work.

Life is very, very, very good.

Blogging from Secondborn’s, again.

2011-11-25T13:46:00.002-06:00

Thanksgiving was amazing. I managed not to eat myself into a coma, but it required enormous fortitude. [Fivitude?]

I came home with two meals’ worth of chicken pot pie from Wednesday night, the last slice of black bottom banana cream pie, about half of my Death Tart [has pecans; Fourthborn can’t eat any, hence the name], and four of Squishy’s hot rolls. Not to mention lots of sweet kisses, many hugs, and one discreet pat on the tushie when Beloved thought nobody was looking.

I am going to have so much fun with that man!

The meeting of spouse-emeritus and Beloved was calm, dignified, and otherwise uneventful. Willow or Lark asked if she gets to be my flower girl. Beloved and 1BDH and I had a great exchange during a dull spot in the Cowboys game.

1BDH: “You do realize that when you marry a [Ravelled] woman, the fun stops once you’re actually married?”
Beloved: “???”
Me: “That which stopped when you married Firstborn, begins when I marry Beloved.”
1BDH: “Lucky devil.”
Beloved: “Woohoo!”

Boys. Gotta love ’em.

Today I am paying a few bills while here on Secondborn’s computer, balancing my checkbook (which I like to do two or three times a week), and ordering the cake topper and maybe my wedding dress. I am thinking seriously about shutting down my land line at home, since I can blog from here or after-hours at work, and I’ve done reasonably well for the past three weeks without home internet. [It’s more or less a small twitch in one eye, as opposed to a grand mal seizure.]

I packed four boxes yesterday before leaving for Thanksgiving dinner(s), and another two boxes this morning (the latter two in my studio).

I have no idea what I’m doing for Christmas, either in terms of what I am giving people, or where I will be spending it. But the moostletoe is hung over the doorway to my kitchen, and I think when I go home, I will do a little decorating.

I need to ask him if he has an artificial tree; I do know that he is planning to hang lights outside this weekend, once he takes care of a couple of minor plumbing issues.

Bills. Bills, then shopping, then Costco with Secondborn. Seven weeks is looking like not-very-long to me. We are going with Plan B for the cake; I need to check into that venue while I’m online and thinking about it.

Happy, happy! Joy, joy! With a side order of EEEEK!

Posting from Secondborn’s

2011-11-22T11:55:00.002-06:00

Oh, internet friends, how I have missed thee! It’s been quite the week. Middlest got here yesterday and spent the night on my couch. This morning we kidnapped Fourthborn and bought cinnamon rolls from KolacheMan and made a raid on Pottery Barn (hoping to find wee swords for the small dolls, but failing nobly in our quest) and are now here. My kids are helping out with craft day, downstairs, while I am up here getting my internet fix.

So: officially engaged, as in he gave me the ring at the dance on Friday night, breaking into the ring of sisters who were dancing to All the Single Ladies to do a John Travolta slide on his knees, ending up in front of me with a box full of ring. And I? I was momentarily, and uncharacteristically, speechless, doing the Sandra Bullock hand-fanning thing after pulling both hands away from my mouth. He says the look on my face was priceless. Then he stood up and hugged me, and if memory serves, announced to the younger brethren, “And that, gentlemen, is how it’s done.”

That thing that women with new engagement rings do? Guilty. I am rather glad that I lost that particular argument.

My friend Alison was in town over the weekend. We did a little texting and left each other a couple of voicemails, then finally met just before stake conference on Sunday morning. She is even more beautiful and wonderful in real life than she is in her blog. And I’m not saying that simply because she brought me two balls of cerise/fuchsia cashmere. I felt like a total ditz, with a serious case of the distractables as the hand and I got pulled from pillar to post. One of these days she and I are going to have to be in the same place at the same time, with no distractions, and spend a few hours or a few days talking and laughing and knitting.

Beloved and I are registered at Pottery Barn. He has initiated a letter writing campaign at Bass Pro, because they do not have a wedding registry, only a wishlist. [What? Rednecks don’t get married? I don’t think so!] As the shower curtain I fell in love with is being discontinued, I stopped in on Friday night before the dance and nabbed one. I also have a sheaf of paint chips which (once I can sit still and string two consecutive thoughts together, because right now I’m having too much fun laughing with my kids) I need to compare under natural light and incandescent light with the shower curtain, because I am actually thinking of something other than red for the living room walls.

This is the part where I post and wave goodbye for probably another week, unless I can get the internet fixed while I am avoiding the Black Friday crowds. Right now I need to reconcile my checkbook and pay a couple of bills.

Beloved says, 53 days and counting.

Another quick post.

2011-11-15T17:49:00.003-06:00

I was in training all day today. My home phone line is supposed to be fixed by 7:00p.m. tomorrow. And then I will meet with Bishop after 8:00p.m. to sign the updated application for my sealing cancellation.

He has statements from FirstHubby and the children’s father. Bishop has written out his own statement. (And he would like me to take all or most of the bouncy songs off the playlist for the reception. I can do that. Beloved is wanting to have the marriage around 10:00a.m. and the whole thing over and done with around noon, so we can get to the place we will be staying, before dark. Fewer songs mean a shorter reception, less cake down the hatch, and a greater chance of my not falling asleep mid-afternoon through sheer exhaustion.)

I am going to Knit Night. I will probably not stay long, but I need to be around wool, and women, after a day listening to a most excellent presenter teach us how to navigate the new docketing system. He has a good, clear voice, an engaging personality, and makes what could be a very dull but necessary process intermittently enjoyable. I was successful in moving the documents which I created yesterday into the new filing system, once class let out.

Tomorrow should be slightly less crazy, significantly more productive, and then I am off for the better part of two weeks.

The shower curtain that I fell in love with last Saturday is no longer available on the gift registry (or online) so I am buying it on Friday. And I found more sheets that I like.

No internet at home.

2011-11-14T17:11:00.001-06:00

I’ve reported it to Uncaring Monopoly. The last time this happened, it was because a tree branch was arguing with the line. And we’ve had a lot of wind lately.

Great weekend. A drive-by smooching of the new guy after work on Friday night. Harry Potter 7.2 with Secondborn and her friends. Some window-shopping on Friday and during the day on Saturday.

Yesterday he came to church with me, to watch my little ones in the annual Primary sacrament meeting. We left shortly thereafter (I handed the kids off to my team teacher) and drove east to his ward, where I attended the presentation in his ward, followed by the entire block of meetings.

His bishop’s wife is their Gospel Doctrine teacher. She asked him to stand and introduce his guest.

“This is my friend, Ms. Ravelled. In January, she will be moving into this ward. And changing her last name.”

I have been sitting on this news since Thursday before last, although my kids and my sister were told immediately (in a veryfasthighpitchedvoice). Some of you have guessed. He ordered my ring today.

When the ring is on my hand, we will update our status on Facebook to “engaged” and fill in the blanks in terms of names. No use of the e-word on FB until then, if you please.

Wedding most likely in early January, timing contingent on when he has his surgery to remove the colostomy bag. Venue to be determined by how quickly the First Presidency moves on my request for a sealing cancellation. The children’s father very graciously requested, in his statement, that they expedite matters due to the new guy’s health issues.

Because of the short time frame, we will dispense with engraved invitations and go the e-route, with a few paper copies for sundry meetinghouses. If you’re local (or not) and want an e-vite, please email me here or on FB.

And I suppose it is also time to unveil his new moniker here on the blog, but it’s what I’ve called him inside my head and inside my heart for a very long time:

Beloved.

So tired I could cry.

2011-11-11T15:53:00.000-06:00

The past couple of days, as we prepare for conversion at work, have been brutal. Scheduled meetings, impromptu meetings, endless meetings, and the downside to my improving health is that I have very few trigger points near my knees, that I can push on discreetly while sitting through said meetings, in order to generate enough pain to stay awake.

The stealth project continues apace. Patience, grasshoppers, I shall have a picture of a finished object in the relatively near future.

Taking an hour of PT and possibly heading over to the campsite for a hug and a quick smooch before heading to Secondborn’s for some serious HP7.2 tonight. I will be the one falling asleep, bolt upright, on her couch.

Crazy day tomorrow: Greek Festival, potluck and dance. Possibly more smooching.

Life is good.

d. c. al fine

2011-11-09T17:04:00.000-06:00

The training at work continues. We are just about meetinged to death. I am accomplishing very little of substance. My thoughts are like water droplets on a hot griddle.

On the other hand, my knitting is behaving in a particularly cooperative fashion. I like the pattern, the yarn, the colors, and the fact that this is my last birthday gift to create for 2011. I am so thankful to have a family who value handmade gifts.

Tonight I will be serving in the temple with the new guy. If I keep showing up at his ward’s temple night, people are going to start talking. (That is, if they are not doing so already.) Tomorrow is my regular shift. The temple was closed for semiannual maintenance for two weeks, and while it was theoretically nice to have an extra evening or myself, two Thursdays running, in reality it left a hole in the fabric of each week. I am glad to be returning to what passes for normal in my life.

I have made significant progress on the stealth project, one wee bite at a time. I might even have a picture of the work in progress before the end of the month. No promises, more like what we in our family call a definite maybe.

Time to log off and go make myself useful in the House of the Lord.

Monday mumblings.

2011-11-07T16:37:00.003-06:00

I will begin and end with quotes which the office manager sent out to the office:

He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery. ~ Harold Wilson

So, I have finally settled on a pattern for 2BDH’s hat. I worked seventeen rounds of K1, P1 ribbing in purple #1, switched to white and knit one round (this, after two or three failed attempts at getting the plain stockinette to look pretty or to be visually the same gauge as the ribbing), then shifted the ribbing one stitch to the left. In other words, the purled stitches in purple are now knitted stitches in white, and there is no awkward transition between the purled purple stitches and the white ones. You can thank Jacqueline Fee for the lack of an awkward transition; I learned that trick in her Sweater Workshop Book.

Funny things that happened this weekend: when looking for the pit-stop before the baby shower on Saturday, I found it not in the medicine cabinet, but in the cupboard where I keep my hair spray and cleaning products. I laughed and put it back into the medicine cabinet. A little later, when I went back to brush my teeth after breakfast, I grabbed the pit-stop instead of the toothpaste and narrowly avoided having to trash my toothbrush.

On the other hand, I have a growing number of tasks to accomplish related to the stealth project, and I am checking them off nearly as quickly as I am adding new ones. This reassures me [somewhat] that the Alzheimer’s Fairy does not have a stealth project of her own.

I may or may not be at Knit Night tomorrow night. (I have an opportunity for more overtime.) Or the Knit Night after that. I hope to make the one in two weeks, if there is one, but it might be the one that I used to attend, because Middlest will be in town, and she knows more people in that group, I think, than in the group I am attending now. Or she may have plans with one or more of her siblings that preclude either or both of us attending Knit Night, anywhere.

I am just taking things one day at a time. And sometimes one hour at a time. Living and dying by the sticky-note, the electronic reminder, sundry calendars, and the intermittent subvocal childbirth word.

The new guy emailed me to say that his cancer count is now down to 8.9. These would be the cancer cells which are hanging on for dear life and biting anything that comes at them. They will be the hardest to kill. But we are ever hopeful.

Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful, it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful, it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident, it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better. ~ King Whitney Jr.

Life is good. And I am logging off in three minutes and heading to see my NailDude.

Crazy-busy, with more to come.

2011-11-06T06:14:00.005-06:00

Posts may be a little thin on the ground for the next few weeks. I recently undertook a major stealth project, we have the Primary program next Sunday, two Thanksgivings to get through, the usual Christmas insanity (which I adore), and the inevitable complications from the new guy’s chemo and probable surgery to remove the colostomy bag and reconnect his plumbing as Heaven and nature intended.

In other news, when I was at the baby shower yesterday (at which I did not present her with a finished pair of baby socks, but she was quite happy with Plan B), I learned that my friend AlisonH, whom I’ve known online for what? four-plus years? and who is my bishop’s wife’s sister-in-law, will be here later this month, so I finally get to hug her in the flesh. I am seriously excited about that, Alison, and I promise not to knock you over in my enthusiasm.

Tola, I’ll give her an extra hug, from you.

The call went out overnight from our compassionate service leader, for contributions to food baskets for sundry ward members. I have a bag by the door, things that are still fresh but no longer on my safe list. They will be going to church with me today. I checked the expiration dates on the two cans of cranberry sauce. 2006 and 2009. Oh dear. Mute testimony to my lack of enthusiasm for holiday cooking.

I could probably put in the #10 cans of powdered milk which are currently in my food storage, as that stuff keeps for years under the right storage conditions, and I’ve maintained those as much as possible in an old house in Texas in a summer like the one just past. Be right back.

Nope, not this weekend. That would require dismantling the impromptu shelves at the side of the fridge. I am using #10 cans as the uprights. And that would be way over the line in terms of working on the Sabbath, but I can rearrange things during the next week and contribute them next Sunday. OK, that’s on my calendar for bright and early Saturday morning, before I go to the Greek Food Festival. Woohoo! One more minuscule victory in the battle against the forces of chaos. Not to mention my ongoing and very personal war on hunger.

I have Middlest’s itinerary for her trip to Texas later this month. I am excited about that, as well. We have offered our services as pie-making flunkies on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, which is Pie Day in the new guy’s household, but he will be getting the chemo pump off sometime that day, which will cut into pie-making time. He’ll be management; we’ll be labor.

Apparently there was an earthquake in Oklahoma and Texas yesterday. 5.6 up where my friend Alyeen lives. I didn’t notice anything here, but I was at Secondborn’s, and the kids were running around being kids and showing off for Gram, so anything less than the house falling down around our ears would have gone unnoticed.

I think that’s it. Baby sock is going on the back burner, and I hope to finish the ribbing on 2BDH’s hat at church today and get started on the straightaway. I’m doing 1x1 ribbing on this hat and designing as I go. No idea why; I just am.

I also decided on Friday to give away all my hats except the one that Fourthborn gave me. I have a friend who is as hat-mad as I am, and she might as well enjoy them. I am on a downsizing spree, and this just feels like the right thing to do. This is me, at work last Friday, after we came back from lunch. There was a guy across the restaurant who kept looking at me. Looked like a poor man’s Gerald McRaney in his Simon and Simon days.

Still life: Red Hat with Chin(s). Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody. Life is good.

The news is mixed.

2011-11-04T06:57:00.002-05:00

He spoke with his oncologist yesterday. There is a 5% chance for a complete cure. I figure that 5% is infinitely better than no chance. And the realistic prognosis is two to five years, which is not as much as I had hoped, but better than I expected.

That being said, he and I had a long talk last night, in the course of which he admitted that he loved me back. And there was a lovely, tender, respectful, and thoroughly enjoyable kiss at the end of the evening.

In more urgent news, I have a baby shower tomorrow morning at 10:00 that almost slipped past my radar. I just finished winding the yarn (an orphan skein of Claudia Handpainted Fingering) and will break in my 4” Harmony DP’s on this project.

I get to wear a hat to work today. I found the box that contained my hats. Now to decide which one.

That’s probably all the sense you’re going to get out of me today.

Tenterhooks

2011-11-03T05:54:00.001-05:00

Took a bit of PT and ran an errand after work, then headed to Secondborn’s with her hat, which she loves. Got a picture of her in it, Bittiest on her lap.

Finished LittleBit’s hat and got it photographed for Ravelry and both projects marked finished. Did the set-up for 2BDH’s hat on Ravelry, noting yarns and needle size and date started, which will be in a few minutes, or maybe when I get to work.

Feeling a little like a kid on Christmas morning, for the moment. Am reasonably sure that my emotions are going to be all over the map today. This is a Big Day, for both the new guy and me, and don’t think the Adversary doesn’t know it. I have been praying that he has a clear channel in terms of knowing what Heaven wants for us, and that I have the wisdom, grace, courage, or whatever else is needed to respond accordingly.

What I am hoping, of course, is that this is going to be a yee haw, crawdaddies! day for both of us. And part of me wishes I could be a mouse in his pocket at the hospital today, while recognizing that he needs peace and quiet and no distractions when he is talking this over with the Lord, afterward.

I have to laugh at myself a little: I did the math and figured out that I have been patient approximately 8.5 times longer than I would have been in my 20’s. (A side benefit of having ovaries that are no longer screaming hey, sailor!) My calendar is free tonight, should he wish to visit face to face. I have a massage scheduled for tomorrow night and will be having dinner at Black Eyed Pea after that (wondering if there is a dance tomorrow night?), and I’ve told him that he is welcome to join me there.

If all of this sounds as if the Patience Fairy has left the building, along with Elvis, and has been replaced by the Tenterhooks Fairy, you would be right. I am now heading out to the kitchen to plan breakfast, lunch, and my snacks. I am already reconciled to the knowledge that I will be steadily eating my feelings all day. I want to make sure that at least some of what goes down the hatch, is healthy.

Prayers and positive thoughts, if you please.

Here is Clara Parkes’ review of BrooklynTweed’s new yarn, Loft. I popped a link onto Facebook from his website, night before last, and will be buying some of this yarn for next year’s gift knitting. There’s a pattern in Wendy Knits Lace that would be ideal for all the adult women in my tribe, even if my tribe doubles in the next few months.

This is the part where I go soak my head.

Real love eats curry.

2011-11-02T06:23:00.002-05:00

I think I might have mentioned the Unfortunate Curry Episode from my misspent youth, when I was making two-thirds of a recipe of curried rice and flipped the fraction in my head while measuring out the curry, effectively making it twice as hot as it was intended to be?

There is an excellent Indian restaurant across the street from the high school which my kids attended. I have eaten there a couple of times with Brother Sushi, whose first (but apparently not last, tee hee!) wife was from India. I found a couple of things that I could eat comfortably, but while he was tucking into one curry or another, I was chiefly there for the joy of his company.

The new guy was supposed to get chemo yesterday. When they did his blood work, they told him that his platelets were too low, and they sent him home. He will try again next week. I figured that he might need a little cheering up, so I offered to come over after work and help dismember more pomegranates. His emailed response was very sweet. (I am welcome there, any time. Such a dangerous thing to say to a woman besotted!) He later emailed to tell me what was for dinner, and that they would save me some: chicken curry over rice, steamed cauliflower, zucchini, and spinach.

My inner four-year-old was shrieking OH GACK!

I got to work nearly two hours of overtime, and then I headed his way. True to his word, he had saved me some dinner. Perfectly cooked rice, two abominable veggies and the last of the spinach, and a delicately flavored curry made by his newest daughter-in-law.

I told him it was the first time in 35 years that I had liked curry. (Probably longer than that; probably closer to 50.) He brought her out to the kitchen so I could tell her personally. Note to my fellow loathers-of-cauliflower: it is better with a generous splash of curry liquid all over it. Ditto for zucchini.

In other culinary news, I made an executive decision yesterday and ordered the immersion blender for my Christmas gift from the corporation. I really could have used it during the Salmon Soup Fiasco of recent memory.

And I did my free annual credit check, more like my free about every eighteen months credit check, and got my credit score from one of the firms. *Much* higher than I expected to see, and today I will call them and cancel my free trial offer. I have one potentially-negative item that should drop off the radar in another eighteen months or so.

In knitting news, I reached the point where I needed to design the crown shaping on the current hat. I tried it on before the decreases, and I tried it on again after three decrease rounds, and I am decreasing too quickly. So I will frog back and start the decreases over, with fewer sections: six as opposed to ten. I think that will give me just enough depth in this portion, but if not I will frog back again and try it with five.

This is the part where I put on my shoes and scoot on out the door. I would rather stay home and knit and eat some of the chicken which was simmering in the crockpot when I got home last night. I portioned it all out and set it on the window unit on the porch to cool, setting the timer for 20-minute intervals. Everything got brought in and put in the fridge, and I probably will not need to cook for a week. Eight (or maybe ten) chicken thighs goes a long way, chez Ravelled.

Tonight I will take Secondborn her birthday present, which I forgot to photograph for Ravelry, but only realized at bedtime last night.

Twitterpated.

Fort Worth Greek Festival

2011-11-01T05:46:00.002-05:00

For those of you who are local.

Brother Sushi may or may not be going with me; there is always room for one more. Secondborn is having a HP-DH2 party on Friday night, when I would ordinarily dine with him. (Which means that I need to see a few of the movies, including HP-DH1, before then.)

I hung out at the bookstore until about 8:30 last night. If I don’t get to eat candy corn, nobody else does. Actually, it’s a very quiet neighborhood, and on the nights I have stayed home with candy, I’ve had maybe one or two kids show up. I am not into giving candy to teenagers; Halloween is for little kids, and those of us who refuse to [entirely] grow up. The teenagers can get jobs and buy their own candy, or get it from their parents.

Bah pumpkinbug!

I did end up going to the drugstore on my way to work yesterday, but I came up empty in terms of a costume. One of my coworkers made a simple tutu from skinny black elastic and strips of tulle that were tied on with lark’s-head knots (as in macramé). Thus solving my problem of what to make for at least some of the resin kids next year.

After the bookstore, I ran by Sprouts and came home with more chicken thighs, a small bottle of maple syrup, an avocado, more grape tomatoes, deli-sliced chicken for sandwiches, a small wedge of goat cheese that I tried and liked last time, and a middle-sized bag of baby carrots. The chicken, some frozen chopped onion, and half of the carrots are simmering in the crockpot for dinner tonight. When I woke up, the house smelled heavenly!

Sometimes low-tech and old-fashioned is the way to go. I was trying to figure out an easy way to print new labels for my circular needle holder tabbed dividers. I don’t like the glazed cardboard inserts, and some of the crimping at the bottom of the tabs is faulty, so the insert falls to the bottom of the organizer. Setting up a label template and rotating it to landscape view (so that, in theory, it would print sideways) didn’t work. I ended up using return address labels (as planned) but hand-lettering them. No more fiddling with tweezers to shift the inserts about when I buy a new circ that needs to go between ones I already had. (Because when I wake up at 2:00a.m. and need a 2.25mm needle, I want to know exactly where to find it. Brigham Young would be proud of me!)

Why, you ask? He said that we should know where everything is in our homes, so that if we wake up in the middle of the night we can put our hand right on what it is that we need. You may not need a 2.25mm circular needle at 2:00a.m., but I never know when the muse is going to roust me out of bed and demand sticks and string.

Drawing a blank on Halloween costumes.

2011-10-31T06:42:00.002-05:00

The Inspiration Fairy is off knitting somewhere.

I should probably not eat potato leek soup after midnight. I made a particularly brilliant batch last night, and I dreamed that I was in the middle of a Robert B. Parker mystery (as yet unwritten or unread), part of which involved being in a boat, part of which involved being in a hostel that was hostile (you had to grab space blankets and wrap yourself up like a mummy and sleep on the floor, and there were bad guys who wanted my blanket).

Some of this might have been related to an online discussion of camping. The new guy is going with the single adults, weekend after next. They will dine like kings, as he is a master of dutch-oven cooking. If I do anything other than sit on the couch and knit, I will go to the Greek Food Festival (which I thought was already on his calendar, but I am truly not upset), either alone or maybe with Brother Sushi (or BestFriend???).

And now I need to grab my knitting and my lunch and swing by CVS to see if I can find anything plausible on their cheap-costume rack. Perhaps next year will be the one that I break down and buy another copy of the Folkwear Kinsale Cloak pattern and a bajillion yards of high-end velvet, and hand-stitch a cloak. Because I promised myself twenty-five years ago that I would never again stitch velvet on a sewing machine.

Therein lies madness.

I was thinking, on the drive somewhere on Saturday, that if I bought the pattern and drew a one-inch grid all over it, I could then rather easily scale it down to make cloaks for all the resin kids. Oh well. That is something to ponder while driving to work today.

Happy Halloween, everybody! Eat some candy corn for me, since it is now on my not only no... list.

243.8 miles yesterday. And I can still walk.

2011-10-30T06:45:00.002-05:00

Home, to the eye exam, and back again to pick up my doll and a couple of bottles of water. 42.2 miles.

Thence to Fourthborn’s, to pick her up and three of her dolls and on to the doll meetup in Denton, where I got a call from the new guy saying yes, by all means, come join our ward activity and we can watch a movie while dismembering pomegranates afterward. Back to my house, to drop off my doll, then brownies with a ward member so I could keep my promise of providing same for my ward’s Trunk or Treat and potluck. Another 90.5 miles.

Back to Fourthborn’s to drop her and her dolls off, then to the new guy’s with detours for gasoline and cookies to take to his picnic (some of which became my dinner, as I had not eaten since 1:00 and it was now nearly 7:00). Phone call from him to confirm where I was, and to suggest that I just head for his house, as their activity was winding down. So I did. Including the trip home, another 111.1 miles.

An hour and a half playing pomegranate assassin while Secondhand Lions ran in the background, his mom’s chihuahua snoozed at my side, and we mostly told stories and laughed. You really don’t want to look too closely at my fingernails this morning.

His eldest son’s female dog has apparently decided that I am part of the tribe: she politely put her paws up on my chest and offered a smooch. I as politely declined.

Of his two dogs, Gracie is the alpha. Chase, though larger, just generally does as he is told. And the chihuahua, Cricket, thinks he should be the boss of Gracie because she is a girl, while she thinks he would make an excellent chew toy. The discussion got a little noisy last night right after I got there. Cricket seems to think that he has won, since he planted himself between my thigh and the armrest of the loveseat and growled at Gracie any time he thought she got too close.

Me? I’m just happy that none of them has decided that I am a chew toy.

Update on the Social Security issue is that early-retirement benefits start, very soon (he is 62), to be replaced by disability payments in a few weeks. This week is all about chemo #8 and the results of the CT scan on Thursday, and I suspect that my emotions are going to be all over the map.

But at least I got a couple of good hugs last night, and time in his company (it had been two weeks; I was getting a little angsty), and he mentioned me by name in a FB post, which I think is probably the first time that’s happened. We’ve both been trying to be exceedingly discreet there, although it is an open secret that we are dating.

An amusing story from the doll meetup yesterday: the waiter brought my plate, and I asked for a to-go box right away. I bisected my dinner along the horizontal axis of my oval plate, ate the near half, and put the other half in the box when it arrived. The guy sitting across the table, who is a schoolteacher and a less-obviously-colorful member of the group, asked why I hadn’t just eaten one whole enchilada, instead of two halves. Fourthborn chimed in that she had wondered the same thing. I looked at her, a little perplexed, and then at him. Symmetry; I’m an artist and something of a mathematician. She laughed first; she’s very much an artist, with a side order of OCD. He laughed next; he teaches fifth-grade math. Bonding moment. Loved it.

In knitting news, my KnitPicks order arrived at work on Friday. The rest of the yarn (I hope) that I need for 2BDH’s birthday hat, three circular needles to fill gaps in my collection, and two books: the Yarn Harlot’s latest, and Wendy Knits Lace, both at deep discount. They included a copy of the new catalogue: and they have at least one new sock yarn, a merino/alpaca/nylon blend that I can’t wait to get my hands on. (But will.)

The tweaking of the ribbing on LittleBit’s cap is nearly done. I expect to finish that today and resume the round and round and round at my usual speed.

And with that, I think we are done for this morning. I need to figure out breakfast and read over the Primary lesson. My team-teacher is teaching today, and in theory all I need to do is show up with treats and the visuals, but she has some serious health issues, so I need to be at least somewhat prepared to teach if she is ill.

In which Ms. Ravelled plays with a sugar glider.

2011-10-28T05:06:00.003-05:00

No, that is not my hand. It belongs to the person who is owned by the sugar glider. Both of them friendly; neither one inclined to bite. He let me hold that little cutie. My modus operandi when dealing with live things that move quickly, is to hold them gently but firmly. This little guy was having none of it. He was perfectly content to scamper up my sleeve to my shoulder and examine the change machine. But when I tried to pen him in, he chittered at me. I remember that tone from when I had teenagers!

Spotted at the chiropractor’s last night, after my adjustment:

Head intentionally omitted; she didn’t want me to get her face or hair. And a back view:

I couldn’t be quite as obliging in this view, because I wanted you to see the yoke pattern. Simple four-stitch [or maybe six-stitch? eight-stitch?] cables alternated with garter stitch, and then garter stitch blocks alternated with stockinette at the top of the sleeves and across the shoulders, fore and aft. So simple, and perfectly elegant. She found it at a resale shop when she took some of her own things in.

My ribs were not the only ones that got tweaked yesterday. I have not been entirely happy with the cast-on I used for the ribbing on LittleBit’s cap. Rather than frog it back, I have been dropping a single column of stitches down to the cast-on, twisting that stitch with a crochet hook, and then working my way back up to the top. It’s been slow going, but this gives me the option of tweaking only the bits that need it, and leaving the rest as-is. I’ve done one round fixing half of the knit columns. Now I am going around and reworking some of the purl columns.

I am using a crochet hook one size larger than the diameter of the knitting needles, and you really cannot tell that stitches have been dropped and picked up again. Ordinarily, I would have used a same-size needle, and there would have been a telltale space on either side of the picked-up stitch, which would have evened out after the cap had been washed a couple of times. Now it just looks as if I had been knitting flawlessly from the beginning.

If you look at the cast-on edge toward the left, you will see that it is a little loosey-goosey. More so, naturally, across the brow where it would be most visible, rather than across the nape of the neck. In this picture, I have tweaked the first two or three columns on the right. I might have to make a third trip round, adding occasional knit columns or purl columns, but mostly fixing one stitch in each two-stitch column appears to be enough.

And now if you will all kindly excuse me, I need to decide which shirt I want to wear inside-out today.

Heard at work.

2011-10-27T06:02:00.003-05:00

Near my cubicle as I headed toward the fax machine:

My attorney: “Are we going to have dance practice today?”
Me, in passing: “Never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth.”
Attorney B: “No, I don’t think we need it.”
Me: *splutter*

I love my job. I may have ~~whined~~ commented on the upcoming new docketing system. The morale committee has come up with activities for each Friday leading up to the day. Two weeks ago it was “Bananas and Bandannas”. Many of my co-workers brought banana desserts. Many more of us wore bandannas to work. Think geriatric biker club, and you would not be far off the mark.

Last Friday the theme was “Relax and Slip Into [program name]” We got to wear house shoes or slippers to work. Lest you not believe, here is a visual, taken in the large conference room of our office. Mine are the boringly shod cankles on the far left.

These are too cool not to share:

This coming Friday, the theme is “Know the Ins and Outs of [program name]”. We get to wear our clothing inside out (I think I will pass), and the best dance to “Inside Out” wins a prize. A couple of attorneys (my two) and several of the support staff are representing various topics of diversity, in a team dance choreographed by another co-worker. No, I am not dancing. I’m not sure that I know the song, and I will be too busy laughing and pointing fingers to get up and boogie.

Next week, the theme is “Hats Off to [program name]”. As my office manager decreed several years ago that I could not wear hats to work, I will be making the most of this opportunity. I will probably pull out one of my Red Hat specials, and I might even take my purple feather boa.

The week after that is our final activity, “Kickoff to [program name] Tailgate Party”. We get to wear our favorite sports jersey. (Maybe I can borrow one from the new guy? Blessed if I’m going to buy one!) And bring our favorite tailgate food, and play another game for prizes.

And you thought it was all about the practice of law.

So, yesterday was crazy.

2011-10-26T06:51:00.004-05:00

There I was minding my own business, finishing up the last bites of lunch, and talking with a co-worker, when all of a sudden the Dysphagia Fairy paid a little visit. The coughing. The gagging. The hacking. The involuntary expulsion of mandarin orange out my mouth, possibly out my ears as well. And the knowledge that, ten minutes before an all-office staff meeting, I needed to go home and change clothes.

Stress incontinence is a beast. I coughed so hard that I could feel it in my ankles (sometimes I feel that when I sneeze, as well, the violent buildup of fluid pressure throughout my system which demands release in publicly embarrassing ways).

My co-worker stayed long enough to be convinced that I was not actually choking, that I could breathe, that I could talk (if gaspingly). He’s a good guy.

A few seconds later, after I had stood up, my managing attorney came in, looking specifically for me, because she wanted me to head up a team at the meeting. I quickly explained that I needed to leave, that I had had an episode and peed all over myself, and that I would fill out my electronic absence request and notify people, and scoot.

My best friend at the office was at a printer. I asked her if anything were visible. She said no (and she would have told me if it were otherwise). I got the heck out of Dodge.

I came home, had a nice long soak in the tub, and took a nap, setting the alarm so that I would not miss my massage appointment. There were all sorts of trigger points, et al, and she strongly recommended that I see the chiropractor, as I may have done something to a rib (or two) with the coughing yesterday. She’s also not crazy about my trick knee. Neither, frankly, am I.

I will try to get in to see him today. I feel a lot better this morning. My throat doesn’t hurt any more, but I’m a little croupy. And I am really, really tired, in part because I tackled half of Mount Washmore last night. The rest of it is out in the car, and I will finish up tonight.

Doll pictures are up on the other blog. Eventually I’ll do a link or a box opening on Den of Angels.

Life is good, although I am feeling my age this morning. Actually, I am feeling more like my sister’s age: she is 75 today!

Fourthborn’s birthday loot. And Charity begins, at home.

2011-10-25T06:13:00.000-05:00

Fourthborn has been remarkably patient about the fact that all of her sisters have some of my knitting, and that she has had nothing since the hand-dyed, handspun, hand-knitted dress I made for her when she was four. Before we knew that she was allergic to wool. And alpaca. And cashmere. [The only animal fiber that does not make her skin go nuts, is silk.]

So this was my evil plan: give her a package containing a shawlette for one of her dolls, knitted from bamboo thread. Like, say, this one. [Blessing was only too happy to pose with it. Yes, it’s beaded. This is the second incarnation of SusannaIC’s Oslo Walk, with 13 lace repeats rather than the original 23.]

And wait for Fourthborn to raise one eyebrow and inquire politely when she might have something for herself? Then reach into the bottom of her bag and hand her this.

How did that go, you ask? Very well, actually, although she did not vocalize that thought. I told her I was a little disappointed about that. She says that FaithAnn, her mini-me doll, will be very happy to wear the wee shawlette, and she herself looks lovely in the human-size one. I was too busy grinning to remember to take a picture, so you’ll just have to trust me.

My new doll arrived yesterday. I will save the whole box-opening sequence for my other (doll) blog, but here she is:

And a close-up. Charity’s hair is not that glaringly bright in real life. I have $50+ saved toward the next doll, to be named Hope.

I was a little sad yesterday when I discovered that one of the dolls on my wishlist is apparently all sold out or no longer being manufactured. Hope is the next planned acquisition, to be followed by Joy, and I would like one who embodies Wisdom.

James 1:5, and all that.

7H15 15 4LL3G3DLY H4RD?

2011-10-24T06:07:00.001-05:00

My office manager sent this out earlier in the month:

An old pastor lay dying. He sent a message for an Internal Revenue Service agent and his lawyer to come to the hospital.

When they arrived, they were ushered up to his room. As they entered the room, the pastor held out his hands and motioned for them to sit on each side of the bed. The pastor grasped their hands, sighed contentedly, smiled and stared at the ceiling. For a time, no one said anything.

Both the IRS agent and lawyer were touched and flattered that the old man would ask them to be with him during his final moments. They were also puzzled because the pastor had never given any indication that he particularly liked either one of them.

Finally, the Lawyer asked, “Pastor, why did you ask the two of us to come here?”

The old pastor mustered all his strength, and then said weakly, “Jesus died between two thieves, and that’s how I’d like to go.”

[The managing attorney and another attorney were not amused.]

Then she sent this out:

F1gur471v3ly 5p34k1ng?

7H15 M3554G3 53RV35 7O PR0V3 H0W 0UR M1ND5 C4N D0 4M4Z1NG 7H1NG5! 1MPR3551V3 7H1NG5! 1N 7H3 B3G1NN1NG 17 WA5 H4RD BU7 N0W, 0N 7H15 LIN3 Y0UR M1ND 1S R34D1NG 17 4U70M471C4LLY W17H 0U7 3V3N 7H1NK1NG 4B0U7 17, B3 PROUD! 0NLY C3R741N P30PL3 C4N R3AD 7H15.
PL3453 F0RW4RD 1F U C4N R34D 7H15. :)

I suppose there are people who can’t read that, but I suspect they are few and far between.

No, I didn’t fall in, over the weekend. I was in the throes of finish-itis, and I went to BittyBubba’s soccer game, and I cooked some and read some.

My new doll should be at the office today. They attempted delivery on Saturday, but since the office was closed and there was nobody to sign for the package, I went online and rescheduled delivery for today, noting that our scanning operator is also authorized to sign for it.

I am seriously impressed with the customer service at Denver Doll Emporium. I ordered her Thursday morning, had an email shipping confirmation that afternoon, and she was at my office [briefly] on Saturday. This is far removed from the dolly drama associated with Blessing’s arrival. And even with Priority Mail, insurance, and signature verification, shipping was a third of what it would have been from Korea.

Today is Fourthborn’s birthday. The gift bag is stuffed and fluffed and waiting by the front door. I’m taking her out for dessert tonight.

I am debt-free.

2011-10-21T06:39:00.003-05:00

It’s been a long, hard slog. Ten and a half years ago, I was debt-free, with no credit history. So I got a VISA card, and my first activity was the co-payment for my gallbladder surgery. The second purchase was significantly higher, for the interview suit (from the late, lamented August Max Woman) which helped me get my job.

I was making a little over half of what I’m earning now. I still had two children at home. Child support was minimal. Gradually that balance crept up, until I realized that it made more sense to take out a line of credit from my credit union at work and pay 8% than to pay whatever the credit card company was charging at the time. Whew, deep cleansing breath, which lasted a couple of weeks until the children’s father lost his job and was out of work for over a year.

Rather than tell the children that we couldn’t afford something as basic as bras, I put a year’s worth of child support onto my newly-clean plastic. At the end of that year, I had a car payment, the line of credit, and credit card debt. My debt load was roughly half of my yearly gross salary.

And every time the Brethren preached that we needed to get out of debt, I squirmed.

I paid off the car (Earl, after the song by the group that I really liked until their ignorant comments on their concert tour right after 9-11), but because I hadn’t had enough cash for regular oil changes, not to mention regular maintenance, Earl only lived a year after he was paid off. At which point I acquired Lorelai and had only one child at home. The children’s father had reached the magic age of 65, which meant that instead of his having to pony up for child support, Uncle Sam stepped in until LittleBit graduated from high school.

I moved into this duplex after she graduated, because the space was smaller, the rent was lower, and it’s in a blissfully quiet neighborhood. No more neighbors tap-dancing in the kitchen upstairs at 2:00a.m. or flinging F-bombs over the balcony onto unsuspecting passers-by.

And since then, my financial situation has waxed and waned, but the general trend has been upward. If you count my 401K’s (regular and Roth), I have theoretically been in the black for a long time. Cash flow has been another matter.

This week I reached the magic age of 59.5, which means that I could draw from my 401K without an additional 10% penalty, just the 25% against my tax return next spring. While listening to General Conference earlier this month, the impression came again that I should do precisely that, and get out of debt now.

I know that this flies in the face of conventional wisdom. I know that at least one of my children is shaking her head. But I am the one who got the impression, and I am the one who has the peaceful feeling for having followed through.

I increased my 401K and Roth contributions last week. They will be effective next paycheck. Doctors without Borders and Feeding America both got a raise. And I sent a donation to Rising Star Outreach, which supports children and families affected by leprosy. (I did not see a way to set up a monthly debit.) I also increased my contribution to two of my three savings accounts. And I still have money left for inconsequentials like food and gasoline!

The numbers may get shuffled if things go forward with the new guy, but at least I will not be bringing debt into that hypothetical marriage.

He is out of state as we speak. The chemo pump came off yesterday, and last night he flew out to where his mother lives. People from his mother’s ward (congregation) will be loading up a truck today. Then he and one of his sisters will be driving it to Texas, starting tomorrow. He hopes to be home Sunday night or by mid-day on Monday. The anticoagulants he is taking twice a day mean that he has to get out of the car every two hours and walk for 15 or 20 minutes. That will slow them down. But he has his road music: bagpipes, zydeco, and the Green Bay Packers’ fight song. His mom will fly out here on Tuesday.

He has his appointment with Social Security next Thursday. And the Thursday after that we get the word on his CT scan. Thirteen days. Yes, I am starting to count them.

He is having a rough go of it, this time around. Even tap water is too cold for him, and when he got in the car yesterday to go have his pump taken off, the steering wheel was painful to touch. I reminded him: cold hands? warm wife.

I spoke with 2BDH yesterday. He did not wipe the old computer when he transferred my files, but he has a program which will do so. Therefore, I will be schlepping the old CPU over to their house bright and early tomorrow morning, and then it can go out on the curb next week with its dinosaur of a monitor.

A modicum of knitting progress yesterday. Still loving the yarn and the pattern. I have nothing on the books for tonight, and very little for tomorrow. The computer gets wiped, Lorelai gets an oil change, I buy groceries and do laundry (though I might do both of those tonight). I foresee a lot of happy knitting in my immediate future!

Nothing to see here. Just keep moving.

2011-10-19T06:03:00.002-05:00

I put in an hour of overtime yesterday and was still able to go to Knit Night, where I managed to last 45 minutes before wilting. Drove home by way of Sprouts, picked up a carton of coconut milk and some dark chocolate almond milk, more boneless skinless chicken thighs for soup, another bag of that excellent flatbread, two wee loaves of sourdough that you finish baking at home (and would be good with some soup inside), Greek yogurt, a new flavor of cultured almond milk, and a big carton of strawberries.

I almost bought some organic gummi bunnies. I think they will follow me home when I go again on Saturday. I am learning how much produce is enough and am ridiculously proud of myself that none of the grapes in the last two bags have gone bad before I finished.

The goat cheddar which I bought last Saturday is excellent. I ate rather too much of it yesterday while working overtime and will probably do the same tonight. Which gave me an excuse to have a slice of flatbread with hummus when I got home, and I think I will have another one this morning.

I have never been much for fresh fruits and vegetables, but I am becoming a convert.

I mailed the birthday present to my sister after work last night. And I put about an inch on the TCU purple hat for Secondborn. That one will be relatively slow going, because I am doing a patterned stitch instead of miles and miles of stockinette tube, but it will be fun to knit. If I add an inch or so per day, I will have no problem delivering it on her birthday. At which point I will cast on for its twin, for 2BDH exactly one month later. And then I can turn my attention to the sweater I promised another family member for his birthday. Last year.

Done. (For now.)

2011-10-18T06:29:00.002-05:00

BittyBit’s birthday present is finished. I cast on for her mother’s before crashing last night and have put three rounds on it this morning.

The massage went well last night. She is so pleased with my progress, as am I. There is less inflammation every time she works on me. I had very little pain or discomfort, and none this morning. It is starting to feel more like massage and less like physical therapy. The hip-strengthening exercises are working.

I came home and ate leftovers while making a nice pot of rice to use up the last of the almond milk and the coconut milk. I figure that I will mix a container of that with some of the failed salmon soup and call it a casserole. Will let you know how that goes.

For lunch yesterday I ate up the leftovers from dinner with Brother Sushi on Friday. So yummy! Half of my salmon and the last third of his pecan-crusted mahi mahi, and roasted sweet potatoes and a couple of tablespoons of the pilaf my fish came on.

The new guy has chemo today. I may have overtime tonight, and I may still be able to catch Knit Night and then go round up more goat milk, almond milk, and coconut milk at Sprouts on my way home. I’m taking goat cheddar and crackers and grapes for dinner tonight.

We got all kinds of rain, big fat drops that started as I rolled the trash and the recycling out to the curb last night. I slept like a rock.

And now, if I get moving and keep moving, I can be out the door in 15 minutes and have time to swing by the post office to mail my sister’s birthday present. I also need to pick up new AAA batteries for my digital scale so I can finish documenting BittyBit’s present on Ravelry.

And I guess that’s all the news for now.

When you say nothing at all.

2011-10-16T21:29:00.001-05:00

I danced to this last night. I think it’s my favorite of everything I’ve heard her sing. I may have sung along with her, gazing upward in full Nancy-Reagan mode.

It has been a really great weekend. I actually had fun at the baby shower yesterday. Generally, I loathe both baby showers and bridal showers, because I detest stupid games. There were no stupid games yesterday. A couple of fun activities, lots of good food, and I got to meet more of Firstborn’s and my hair magician’s friends, and see some of my own friends from my old stake.

I also had fun at the dance. A good brother who is roughly my own age was the DJ, so the music didn’t stink. What was my costume, you ask? I took Dad’s polo mallet and told people that my polo pony had gone missing. It was either that, or take my largest stuffed sheep and tell people my name was Mary, and this was my little lamb, and did they have a problem with it?

The new guy put on his fishing poncho. I told people that he was a ninja, because he made his appearance while I was out on the dance floor tearing it up to “All the Single Ladies,” and I totally [totally, dudes!] did not see him until I went back to my table (which he found because I had put my knitting on it so nobody would steal my chair). I got either four or six slow dances with him.

Thoroughly enjoyed church today, including or perhaps especially, my Primary class. I have pretty much given up on the idea of covering all the material in the lesson plan. I teach them the big chunks, and I spend a good part of the lesson listening to them, and we color, and I feed them graham crackers, and everybody goes home happy.

I had a lovely long nap after church, and I am likely to be up awhile. A lot of knitting progress during sacrament meeting and at the shower yesterday and a little more at the dance. I have a bunch of ends to weave in, but I am working on the penultimate stripe, so after I take care of that little task there will only be three ends to weave in, and I’m done.

Friday.

2011-10-14T06:46:00.003-05:00

Thankfully, there’s one every week. Scooting out the door a little early to catch some quality knitting time before the workday begins.

It’s been a good week. Last night was very long. I had a sweet and sacred experience while serving in the temple last night. May I just say that I got to see humanity at its best.

It’s likely to be a crazy day at work. Thankfully, there is dinner with Brother Sushi tonight. I had a happy surprise yesterday, when Attorney B took his secretary, his paralegal, and me (his transcriptionist) out to lunch for no particular reason. And I had the best guacamole in months at a restaurant in the West End.

Look closely. That white stuff is lump crabmeat. I would never have thought of adding crab to guacamole, but it was so good! You will be pleased to note that I resisted the temptation to call this post Just a Closer Guac with Thee. Or You’ll Never Guac Alone.

It followed me home.

2011-10-13T06:07:00.002-05:00

The straw bale, that is. I ran into WallyWorld the other morning to pick up some milk and see if Rice Chex were on my happy food list. They are. I left with milk, a box of Rice Chex for my cubby at work, and a box of whole-grain Rice Krispies. Can’t wait to snap, crackle, and pop this weekend!

Because I was prepared to knit all day at work, if necessary (oh, what a hardship!), when I got there the server was behaving impeccably. So I got a lot done, in a calm and orderly manner, and when I left at the end of the day I felt as if I’d earned my keep.

My hair magician worked her magic last night. Just a trim. I think I’m going to continue to grow it out for awhile and see what I think. I can always go shorter again.

Right now the wax is softening so I can deal with the stray eyebrows on my chin. We didn’t have time for proper waxing last night; I’m just going to deal with it myself this time.

I made most of today’s salad last night. Just need to pick up some greens on my way to work. Also my first attempt at black bean burritos at home. Goat’s milk kefir is an acceptable substitute for sour cream, but it still wasn’t up to Bueno standards.

Temple tonight, and I plan to pick up more of that purple tweed yarn between work and there.

The anticoagulant is kicking the new guy’s derriere. He is v-e-r-y tired, I’m guessing because thinner blood means slower oxygen delivery? So I’m thinking that the dance on Saturday night will be a short one for him, and possibly for me as well. He originally thought he would only be taking it for a week, but he will pick up a three-month prescription at chemo next week. He has to take it until he’s all done with chemo, and there are four more sessions tentatively scheduled for after this month. But as he says, whatever it takes to get him from where he is, to well again.

His attitude is amazing, and inspiring.

“Calm and uneventful”

2011-10-12T05:40:00.002-05:00

Thank you, Secondborn; it was a good thought.

Yesterday was neither, but neither was it bad. Our server went out about 3:30, thankfully after I had printed off all of the outgoing mail, but just as I was preparing to save a new letter. A collective groan rose up throughout the office as my co-workers realized that the server was down.

Me? I just closed down one window after another, and then I grabbed my knitting. I was still able to go online, so I caught up on the Yarn Harlot and Crazy Aunt Purl and Mason-Dixon Knitting and my kids’ blogs.

I had emailed the new guy while still at home, that while it was Knit Night, and I did not have to [get to] work overtime, nobody was expecting me at my usual haunt, so if he needed me or just wanted to see me, I was available. He responded that he didn’t know what his kids’ plans were for the evening, but I was welcome to come, and he didn’t know what there might be for dinner. I replied that I owed him a bucket of chicken (a promise made shortly after he got his diagnosis) and would be happy to deliver on that promise. So I went to the websites of the three major chains, and I did a little nutritional research.

KFC, Chicken Express, and Church’s all use MSG. I called him to ask if Panda Express (which does not) would be an acceptable substitute. And that is how I found myself at the head of a long line of hungry Dallasites, ordering a family meal with spicy beef, that delectable orange chicken, and honey walnut shrimp, plus spring rolls, steamed rice, and fried rice.

The kids were there for dinner. His son blessed the meal as we stood in the kitchen, his arms folded gently around his impossibly slim and lovely wife. After the amen, I asked him if was more fun to fold his arms, now, than when he was eight years old? Definitely.

There were not a whole lot of leftovers, but the steamed rice and the last dab of orange chicken came home with me. They have a rice cooker (and better rice in their pantry), so everybody won.

I only stayed an hour or so, as much for my own need to sleep as out of consideration for the new guy. Came home, puttered a little, and was in bed at a reasonable hour.

Tonight I see my hair magician, and then I am hoping for a quiet evening at home, with a side order of puttering. I have been slogging away at a pesky long-term project, and this morning I think I passed the tipping point.

I hope they fixed the server problem overnight. But I am taking plenty of yarn in case they did not.

Alarums; no excursions. Stabby Tuesday edition.

2011-10-11T06:48:00.004-05:00

As I posted on FB, yesterday was all lovely and calm and wonderful until about 11:00 last night when I took my phone out of the charger and turned it on and checked my messages.

The new guy went to the hospital yesterday for his CT scan. They haven’t told him what they found in terms of cancer cells. But they did find some blood clots in his lungs, and at 6:00 he was in the ER with a heparin drip. He went home around midnight with a week’s worth of anticoagulant and gets to stab himself twice a day.

Ironically, I had read earlier in the evening, in Kevin Hinckley’s book, about how sometimes the challenges intensify when we have made a correct decision, or we are on the right path. We step out of the boat in faith and start skipping along on top of the waves, and the water gets rougher, and our knees get wet. And we get scared, lose faith in God or in ourselves, and we sink, forgetting to notice that for a time, we were succeeding at doing the impossible.

With my mobility issues, most of my prayers are standing up or sitting in a chair. You had better believe that I hit my knees last night! And the peace came. Sometimes He calms the storm. Sometimes He stills the child. I got a taste of the latter last night, and it was sweet indeed.

I called the new guy as soon as I’d listened to his voicemail. And I made him promise to call me if he decided that he needed me. And then, miraculously, I went to bed and fell asleep.

On a purely practical note, my bishop/home teacher is also a radiologist. I think we are going to ask him to see if he can get an answer back more quickly on the CT, than we can.

I spent the blissfully unaware portion of the evening doing kitchen triage. I will be taking more stuff to work today, to give away.

Life is good, and I am so blessed!

I promised some pictures.

2011-10-10T06:56:00.003-05:00

This is the shawlette I made for Willow:

A detail. The yarn is a little too busy to properly show off the nupps.

And this is a smidgen of the scarf I made for Lark:

It was a glorious weekend. I am really looking forward to the week ahead. And yes, I did remember to switch out knitting projects so that BittyBit will have at least some element of surprise when she opens her gift later this year.

Have I mentioned that I really, truly love my tribe? I took a quiet moment yesterday to speak with the spouse emeritus and let him know that I would be bringing the new guy to Thanksgiving dinner, so he would not be blind-sided. I also told him that, should the new guy pop the question, I would accept, and what the new guy is dealing with, health-wise. He took it all graciously.

Another nearly perfect day.

2011-10-09T07:51:00.002-05:00

I got so much accomplished. Vacuuming as aerobics and strength-training, over at our meetinghouse, followed by grocery shopping and a manicure and more grocery shopping and making-of-carrot-and-raisin-salad that did not quite taste like Mom used to make but was nevertheless pretty amazing. The new guy went back for seconds, as dessert, while we watched Enchanted.

I warned him that at my tribal gatherings, we tend to burst into show tunes for no apparent reason. Family party tonight after church, woohoo!

Mama mia! [There we] go again!

Meh day, great evening.

2011-10-08T06:33:00.003-05:00

Work yesterday was a mixed bag. The cake was well-received.

Everyone marveled that I, the AntiSports, intentionally chose a cake with a football theme. I told them it was all the new guy’s fault. They laughed.

We had another “quick” meeting, standing up, in the office manager’s lair, but this time it actually was quick, something on the order of 20 minutes, which my massage therapist is still too long for me to be standing up at a go with the present state of my hip.

I got very little done that was measurable, at least by my standards. Most of the pre-conversion activities that I did earlier in the week, I had to re-do. I did get one case closed, another one nearly so, and one letter created for my attorney. I also typed up the (lengthy) medical expense chart for a supplemental discovery summary that I will bang out on Monday. But mostly, it was a day of hurry up and get here, 5:00, so I can scoot on out the door for my massage.

She says that, while my back was very tense last night, my overall muscle tone has improved. We also discovered that I have been doing my hip-strengthening exercise incorrectly, because I was straining my neck and shoulders. She had to do a lot of work on those bits, and she reminded me to rinse off my feet and calves with cold water before going to bed at night, and to put a pillow under my legs. My feather pillows are dying. I think I will pick up a cheap polyester-filled pillow while I’m out today, to elevate my feet.

I bought four cards while I was picking up the cake: two for Bosses’ Day on the 17th (something I have not done before, because in my opinion every day is bosses’ day), and one for Lark and one for Fourthborn.

So, the massage was good, and when I got to the restaurant, the new guy was waiting for me with a big smile. Dinner was delicious, and the conversation even more nourishing. I ran some ideas past him and got his input. Then we went to the dance (after I picked up a container of iced animal crackers as my contribution to the refreshments), and the music didn’t stink. Apparently at least one of our volunteer, works-for-free DJ’s actually pays attention to what we want. I got a couple of fast dances with the new guy, a couple of slow dances, a couple more fast dances with the herd while he put his shoes back on, and then he went home to his house, and I came home to mine.

I’ll be back at the church in a couple of hours to help clean it for the Sabbath. And then I will go camp out at NailDude’s, because I’m fixing to pop a nail, and I don’t want to get water under there and have to deal with fungus for several months until it grows out.

The new guy is cooking dinner for me after the food storage (sales) party. I will be taking a carrot/raisin salad, trying to approximate the one that Mom used to make, but maybe having to tweak the dressing a little to accommodate my dietary changes.

Time to sit on the couch and sort out the piles of birthday gifts and match up the cards. And then some celebratory knitting.

Gunga don’t.

2011-10-07T06:21:00.004-05:00

In which your intrepid heroine has a difference of opinion with the water cooler, and the water cooler loses.

On the other hand, the Tonka boys are finally done with my curb and driveway. For the past several days, there has been a small pile of dirty yellow sand where the concrete ended and the pea gravel began. Too high to drive over, too small to be useful at filling the trench they had left. So I continued to park on the street. Last night I came home to a neat field of jawbreaker-sized gravel extending from the concrete, several feet into the driveway, and too chunky to wind up caught in the soles of my sneakers.

Lark’s scarf is blocked. Family party at Firstborn’s on Sunday after church. I hope we will have our traditional fruit roll-up races, although I probably shouldn’t participate, because I’m sure they are loaded with high fructose corn syrup as well as artificial coloring. All of the October birthday presents are wrapped or sitting next to their gift bags, and are stacked neatly on the back of the couch. I will put my sister’s in a mailing box this weekend and send it on its way sometime next week.

I’m also approaching the halfway point on BittyBit’s scarf. Five more rounds will finish this stripe. Simple, mindless knitting at its best.

I pick up the office birthday cake in a little over an hour. Time to assemble my lunch and weave in a few ends on the scarf.

Happy Friday, everybody!

Maybe not just the ankles.

2011-10-06T05:27:00.004-05:00

Brother Sushi and Jerry, and any other guys who may be reading this: might be a good time to go fix yourself a sandwich. Come back in a minute or so.

I caught a good look at myself in the mirror at work yesterday, and something was not quite right with my bra. It looked as if there were seams running along the diagonal. This bra does not have seams; it is a molded wonder which keeps me modest when a room is chilly. I bent over, fished around, and attempted to fluff, to no avail. There was less to fluff than I am used to.

I just bought new bras three weeks ago! They were not cheap, even at buy one and get the second one half price!

It might also have been an unhappy synergy between the new bra and one of the dressy, layering T-shirts I bought from Coldwater Creek two or three months ago, slightly more fitted than the ones I bought two or three years ago (which I much prefer, because they float over my curves rather than hug them, but which are succumbing to time and spilled soup). I will be wearing one of the older shirts to work today, and I will be examining my reflection closely throughout the day.

I really, truly do not want to buy new, new bras on Saturday.

OK, guys, you can come back now.

Heading in early to work, to squeeze in half an hour of overtime before the regular day begins. I’ll be at the temple tonight, as usual, so I won’t be working overtime alongside several of my co-workers. I would go in early tomorrow, as well, but I’m picking up the cake for the office birthday party on the way in, and after work there is a much-needed massage, dinner with the new guy, and a dance at my building that may or may not be very well attended.

I’m booked pretty much all day on Saturday: cleaning the chapel, manicure, [possible bra shopping?], and dinner with the new guy.

I will see if I can go in early every day next week, or at least through Wednesday, which is the timecard cut-off day, plus the evening hours I will be able to work. Good news, though: I only worked until 6:45 last night, so Knit Night might not have to be sacrificed, after all!

Temple bag is packed and by the door. Knitting and backup yarn are in my bag. I need to pack lunch and dinner, grab my bags, and git.

What’s cooking?

2011-10-05T06:50:00.002-05:00

Actually, that should be “Who’s cooking?” And the answer would be “Me!”

Slept like a rock last night, up at 4:00, hit the kitchen almost immediately. A pot of risotto with herbes de Provence and the last scraps of ham. A pan of the new guy’s mushroom and spinach jollop. All packaged up in take-along’s for lunch today and tomorrow, with a little risotto to spare.

Didn’t stay long at Knit Night last night, just long enough to show off the new laceweight and let my friends pet it, and to finish the current stripe on BittyBit’s scarf. I’m weaving in the ends as I finish each stripe, because this is a tubular scarf and because I don’t like to weave in ends. So when I get to the end of the scarf, I’ll have two ends from the beginning of the last stripe, and the tag end after binding off, and done.

I need to leave for work in five minutes. Lunch and dinner are packed. Overtime starts tonight. I plan to work as much of that as I can, and Knit Night will necessarily take a backseat. The temple and the Sabbath will not. Most of my Saturdays are already booked (so nice to have my calendar on my phone).

Blogging might be a little thin on the ground as well, but probably not. The new guy is in zombie mode today after yesterday’s chemo, but otherwise in good spirits. Two days until my massage, and dinner with him, and the dance at my building.

And in the meantime, I had better scoot!

Faux-k art

2011-10-04T06:19:00.003-05:00

That K is the sound of Ms. Ravelled, gagging on her indignation.

I am not the proud new owner of a small red wooden phone booth. Why not, you ask? When I got to Hobby Lobby, the ones on display were cheaply made, and the shelf in the middle turned out to be glued in, and the price was twice what I remembered from Saturday. I would have begrudgingly paid the $20 I saw then, if the quality were better. I am not paying $40 for something that was thrown together in such a fashion as to make slapdash a compliment of the highest order. [Even if it is red.]

So I went to Sprouts and spent the $20 I had earmarked for frivolity, on food. Plus a dollar for autism research. And brought home a $5 bill to donate for Lee National Denim Day on Friday. Just to clear my palate.

I guess the good news is, I won’t have to come up with a Supergirl costume for Faith or Temperance. That equals more happy knitting time.

I seem to have mislaid another two pounds. If you find them, please don’t feel obligated to mark them return to sender. I am rather pleased, if mystified, by this turn of events, although if it keeps up, I will be in the next smaller size of jeans by the end of the month. I hadn’t really planned on buying new jeans anytime soon.

This just in from our news bureau. At 30 inches, it’s theoretically tall enough for even Blessing to stand upright in. [The other was 12-15 inches tall.] But I suspect the shelves are not merely glued in. Without looking inside, I imagine that they are impeccably dado’ed, making this thing of beauty utterly useless to me. Good thing: half-price, it’s still over $100!!!

If Dad were still alive, I could show him this picture, and he would make me one just like it, and it would be perfect. When I was married to FirstHubby, I designed our waterbed frame. Dad built it. I designed an elaborate jewelry box. He drilled maybe a hundred tiny holes in dividers for the drawer to hold my post earrings. Those holes lined up like infantrymen on inspection. The drawer moved smoothly. The joinery was perfect. There was a mirror [of top-quality glass] inside the lid, and a really cool knob on top, with two smaller ones to match on the front of the drawer. When our house was burglarized in 1982, the thieves stole my jewelry box, not realizing that the box was far more precious to me than anything it contained.

I wonder if the new guy has woodworking tools out in his garage? Everything I know about him, suggests that he might. Now there’s a happy thought!

Knit Night tonight, and yes, Aisling, the new red yarn is in my bag for proper appreciation. [I was mistaken about the other silk laceweight: it’s Claudia, not Schaefer.]

You would think...

2011-10-03T06:49:00.002-05:00

...that, having lain down for a nap at 5:30 last night and waking at 11:30, and going back to bed at 3:45, I would have been able to go back to sleep for a couple of hours. You would be mistaken. The hamster wheel which is my brain kept going round and round and round. Not worried about anything, just lots to think about.

He has chemo tomorrow. He gets the report of next week’s CT scan a month from today. I have massages booked every ten days, to break up the time a little and give me something tangible to anticipate.

I did a lot of knitting yesterday, only some of it on BittyBit’s birthday present. Thankfully, her birthday is the very last week of December, and even if I only add 5% per day to the length of her scarf, it will be done by the end of the month. I started another chemo cap yesterday, to productively use up the tag ends of Malabrigo from the new guy’s caps and the yarn which Tola sent me. I have no idea for whom I am knitting. This one is all autumn colors. Somebody will love it.

Heading out the door now to put two packages in the mail. If traffic is Obby Noxious [Abby Normal’s tacky cousin], then I will put them in the mail after work.

This week’s dance card is filling rapidly, but that’s a post for another day.

Princess of Puttering

2011-10-02T10:11:00.001-05:00

Secondborn, I ordered what is allegedly a gently-used copy of that church-related ABC book on eBay last night. [I went to buy it at the bookstore in BigD on my way to the temple Thursday night and learned that it’s out of print.] So now I won’t have to mug my friends at church next Sunday and deprive their toddler of his book. I’m rather fond of the little rascal, even though he did pull a DP out of my project at the Easter egg hunt last spring.

So, I’m really enjoying General Conference, possibly even more than usual. The talks and the music in the Saturday morning session were seriously sniffle-inducing.

“Now brethren, we speak boldly to you, because anything more subtle doesn’t seem to work.” ~ Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

In the priesthood session last Conference, the Brethren spoke boldly about the need for single brethren, young and old, to stop following selfish pursuits and to take a good sister to the temple, there to begin an eternal family. This Conference, the theme for the brethren is worthiness and service, primarily missionary service. Or that’s what it seemed to be through the first half of last night’s session, which they put up on the internet about 9:30. I got a few minutes into Elder Eyring’s talk before my body said, “Whoa, sister, it’s time you went to bed.” I’m going to fix some breakfast, and if there’s still time I’ll restart from that point and see how much I can listen to before it’s time to switch over to the live Sunday morning session.

I got all of my crochet thread organized and put away yesterday. I scored the last snap-on organizer tray package in the size I needed, at the Jo-Ann’s which is closing [because a new, larger one is opening next month], at 15% off. I only needed one tray for the thread project. I used the other one to organize what’s left of my silk paints and my free-range decorative painting supplies, the rest of which are neatly contained in an oversize plastic shoebox. My watercolor supplies are also contained; I may move them into my rolling scrapbook cart, where their brushes reside in a tall, skinny glass jar.

I also sorted through twenty years’ worth of buttons by color, material, shape (shank, two-hole, four-hole), and size. I think there is still one jar floating around unsorted, but when I find it, it will be a small matter to divide and conquer. I wanted to do this so that, when I need to sew on a button, I do not have to sort through two tins, a half-gallon jar, and a couple of smaller jars to find one which will work. I will just have to grab the right plastic box [one of five, the same sort I used to organize my embroidery floss collection] that holds the right color family and see what I’ve got.

I saw the cutest thing in Hobby Lobby yesterday: a small display box painted to look like a red telephone booth. There is one shelf inside. I didn’t check to see if it is removable. I think I will go back there tomorrow night with Faith and Honor, to see which of them looks better standing alongside/inside it. And if it’s a good fit, it’s mine. The next project would be to figure out how to make a Supergirl costume.

I’m not telling any of my doll collecting friends about my find unless/until I have it home. Crazy like a fox, that’s me.

I also added two or three inches to BittyBit’s birthday present yesterday. I figured out how to incorporate some of the first shade of gold in a way that ties it into the first two scarves and doesn’t clash with the new shade. I anticipate lots of knitting progress today.

Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody.

General Conference time!!!

2011-10-01T08:38:00.001-05:00

I love General Conference. I love sitting quietly for two hours at a time, with my knitting to keep my hands busy and the rest of me awake, and hearing what Heaven thinks is important for me to know. I love that there is a prophet on earth today, as in Moses’ day, who gives loving counsel tailored for our times. I know that I will hear things today and tomorrow which will address my needs and concerns. And I will hear sublime music, and feel the Spirit, and holy peace will descend upon me and bubble through me.

I am going to run a [very] few errands this morning. I began the day with a nice bowl of Irish oatmeal, and I have all kinds of fruity and veggie goodness in the fridge, for snacking on throughout the day. At some point there will be a big salad, although I plan to throw most of the baby spinach into another batch of the new guy’s spinach and mushroom jollop.

I hope to make enormous progress on BittyBit’s birthday present. It would be lovely to finish it and get it, and Lark’s birthday present, blocked. The latter will probably happen sometime today; blocking is a quiet activity that does not interfere with contemplation.

I hope this day brings all of you much quiet joy, that you feel your connection to Heaven, and that all of the surprises are good ones.

I was already having a good day.

2011-09-30T05:56:00.004-05:00

And then my coworker who picks up the mail, dropped a package on my desk. I would show you a picture, but it would be red on red (since I usually photograph yarny goodness on this chair), and all you would get would be glimmers of coral here and there. So you’re going to have to settle for the thousand words.

Schaefer Andrea, their 100% silk laceweight, in every shade of red you can imagine, and probably a few you can’t. Deep coral to vermilion to carmine to scarlet to crimson to cranberry to Cabernet (I gave up drinking wine 36 years ago, so I don’t know where Merlot fits on the color wheel). A no-reason gift from one of my fellow knitters. Love made evident.

Gobsmacked.

I have another skein of this yarn all wound up, in teals and turquoise and browns, bought two or three years ago with birthday money. I have swatched with it a little, and it frogs nicely. I have yet to decide what to make with it, although I’m sure that if Blessing could talk, she would say that she wants a silk skirt to go with the sweater I made her, but it was my birthday present, not hers, so she’s out of luck. The color changes in that ball are a little too distinct for lace knitting. I might end up making a Pi Shawl out of it, with a simple I-cord border. But not yet.

This new skein, however, was made to show off the most extravagant lace pattern I can find. And I suspect that the scarlet teardrop beads which I bought awhile back will become part of the design.

It is only the love which I have for my youngest granddaughter that keeps me soldiering away on the third burgundy and gold scarf of the year. KnitPicks’ Telemark is, for me, what Cascade 220 is for many of my knitting friends. It is my workhorse yarn: well-crafted, sturdy, dependable, predictable. I have yet to be disappointed.

But it is not lush. And mysterious. And seductive.

For you benighted souls who do not knit, this yarn is the equivalent of the Cowboys winning the Superbowl and the Rangers winning the World Series and the Mavericks winning the whatever it was they won, within months of one another. Or a Coach bag. Or a Porsche 356SC (Dad’s was red, and he was smart enough not to let me drive it, after I bent the axle on his Karmann Ghia when I drove us into a shallow ditch because I couldn’t remember how the clutch worked with the brake). Or the very best Belgian chocolate. Or having Sean Connery sit at your kitchen table and read to you from the Book of Mormon. [You have your fantasies. I have mine.]

Thank you, my friend. Thank you!

He leadeth me to buy distilled water.

2011-09-29T05:42:00.000-05:00

Because my CPAP is unhappy when I don’t. I don’t know how long it took me to blow through that last gallon; it seemed faster than usual.

I was supposed to get a haircut and a facial, but the dear young friend who is my hair magician, is in her last trimester of pregnancy and texted me from the hospital. She gave me no details, but she’s in my thoughts and prayers, and if you wouldn’t mind? her name is Julianne.

So I took all my lights and darks to the laundromat, and all my lovely lightweight dressy T-shirts are on hangers suspended from various doorknobs, because I need to go in and rearrange my room (again), so I can get to the closet and hang them from the rod which is theoretically there for that purpose. The grammar fairy wishes me to let you know that the rods per se are not theoretical; merely their usage.

I really, truly, deeply, devotedly miss the walk-in closet from the penultimate apartment. It was at least five feet deep, and the length of the bedroom, and there were rods on three sides. I have three closets here: a coat closet in the hall, between the living room and my studio. The closet in my studio. And the closet in my bedroom. The coat closet is by far the largest. Apparently people ran around in the benudies a lot more, back in the 40’s?

After the laundromat, I ran to Sprouts for more of the really great crackers I picked up last Saturday, and some avocados, and another chunk of salmon, and a quart of goat kefir. Thence to Wally World for the aforementioned distilled water and a couple of other things. General Conference is this coming weekend, and I will be able to sit on the couch with my knitting and soak up all that inspiration and eat healthy stuff rather than bonbons. I have plenty of fresh fruits and veggies. If I want something sweet, I will make lemon squares or oatmeal cookies.

Yeah, me. Baking.

This is [woohoo!] a temple night for me, and ordinarily I try to go to bed early the night before. I was up far too late last night, baking a fish and then a batch of corn muffins to use up the butter and olive oil mixture in which I dipped the salmon before wrapping it up in baking parchment.

And since I began this post in a tangentially religious fashion, I will close with one of my favorite hymns, in celebration of the fact that I now have functioning speakers on my computer. Some of you will recognize the melody; he [RVW] is one of my favorite composers.

Reasonably, and officially, well-adjusted.

2011-09-27T06:38:00.002-05:00

In applause and support of Fourthborn’s ongoing efforts in her home and studio [as well as my own], I give you this. Having spent an hour or so analyzing, comparison shopping, purchasing containers, and then actually corralling most of my crochet thread on Saturday, I can attest to this. I would be 100% done with that task, were it not for the fact that JoAnn’s was closed when I thought I would pop in at the last minute. Apparently the last minute had come and gone without bothering to inform me. Rude! But just the anticipation of checking this task off my list was enough to inspire me to brainstorm a better storage solution for my button collection.

I’ll get the makings for that soon, possibly after the massage I thought I would be getting last night, but then she called to say that we were locked out of the building, and could we reschedule? It was a blessing in disguise, because it gave me more time to tackle Mount Washmore, and also time for a leisurely stroll through the produce department. I brought home bananas, strawberries, grapes, carrots, and spinach, plus divided storage containers and a couple of new dish wands. Once I got home last night, carefully not stepping on the new part of my sidewalk[!] or the new end of my driveway[!!], I sliced up a generous portion of strawberries and enjoyed them with a sprinkling of Demerara sugar and a splash of goat’s milk.

I weighed myself at work yesterday. I’ve lost another five pounds, making it eleven since I went off cow’s milk less than two weeks ago. I’m not dieting. I’m not starving myself. I eat when I’m hungry, and I don’t when I’m not. It’s working out to four or five small meals a day plus the odd snack, plus I am like unto the proverbial racehorse every couple of hours. I no longer feel like weeping when I drive by a Braum’s, I’m not craving chocolate (which I can have), and I haven’t had a Cherry Coke in over ten days. Haven’t needed one.

I can’t wait to see what my massage therapist has to say when she works on me tonight. She asked me last time if I had lost weight, and I told her no. Turns out she was right!

The chiropractor says that the problem with my right hip is the hip flexor. I have exercises to do before bedtime (three gentle stretches with each leg), and when I wake, and whenever I get the chance during the day. He’s not sure if it’s related to that 5,000 mile drive when Dad died, or to my broken femur five years ago, or to something unknown, but my right leg is shorter than my left because all of the muscles in that thigh have shortened. Essentially, they have their arms folded and their backs turned and are pointedly not speaking to one another.

My theory? It’s rust. Some of it physical, and probably most of it psychological. Definitely something I’ll talk over with my massage therapist. She is amazingly intuitive. And in the meantime, there are grapes which are calling my name. And bananas. And good stuff like that.

Those exercises? I thought they would be easy-peasy. I have two variations: one standing in a doorway, and one where I lie on my back and try to insert my kneecap into my nose. Surprisingly, that one is easier. I managed three reps with each leg before getting out of bed this morning. And I won’t stop trying to do the other, which will raise fewer eyebrows if I stand and do it in my cubicle at work.

Parting thought? A blouse I love, which would gap in front were there not two buttons spaced closely in the danger zone, is flowing primly over my pulchritude this morning.

I think that calls for some celebratory knitting!

Insufficient “Caution”

2011-09-26T06:18:00.003-05:00

It’s not as obvious in this picture as it is in real life, but the new ball is a markedly different gold than the stitches on the scarf. I do have two full balls of the new color, so there will be plenty for BittyBit’s scarf, and I am glad that I did not discover this last night, when I was at the fireside. It might have put a crimp in the evening.

As it was, I noticed first thing this morning, with about two yards of the first gold left to knit. And since many North Americans believe that Monday is pretty much of a loss (a theory to which I do not subscribe), I had about five seconds of oh dear before coming up with a blog post title and my camera.

@ Middlest: I have an unopened half gallon of almond milk in the fridge. I much prefer the Blue Diamond to the Silk. I also have two of those everlasting juice-pack quarts up in my cupboard as part of my year’s supply.

My friend Mickie gave me her old computer speakers last week. I hooked them up last night and am now YouTube-ing to beat the band, catching up on links that friends have sent me.

This is going to be another busy week, filled with activities (and people) I love and maybe an adventure or two. I’m leaving work early for an appointment with the chiropractor whom my massage therapist recommended, and then I have an appointment with her, after which, if I do not go tackle Mount Washmore, I will be in what an old roommate used to call the benudies (accent on the second syllable) tomorrow.

Mount Washmore has been bagged up in the back of Lorelai since mid-morning on Saturday, so there will not be the distraction of coming in after the massage for just a minute to grab things and ending up on the couch with my knitting and a podcast or three.

Speaking of Lorelai, the jaunt to the fireside last night just about emptied my gas tank, so I need to get off the computer and blow dry my hair and grab my lunch and scoot.

Another excellent day.

2011-09-25T06:40:00.002-05:00

I took all the healthy foods that are on my better not list over to Secondborn’s, and then she and BittyBubba and I went to Costco. I came home with goat cheese crumbles, easy on the salt, and a ginormous box of raisins.

So, maybe not the soy milk. I had significant rumblies in my tumblies last night after downing a glass at dinner. Not nausea. Not vomiting. Just a whole lot of audible discomfort that my mom would have called an organ recital. I did a little online reading, and apparently soybeans require as much work to make them nontoxic for humans as does canola oil. If you have TVP in your food storage, you might want to rethink it.

And yes, Secondborn, I am planning to get a (medical) second opinion on the dietary thing, after the first of the year. It’s not covered by my HMO, or wasn’t when I started to do it two or three years ago. I’ll check again. And I’ll save up.

I finally decided on the next knitting project: a third Gryffindor scarf, for BittyBit’s birthday in December.

The RS broadcast last night was purely and simply glorious.

Time for breakfast and then some deathbed-repentance in terms of my Primary lesson. So much for my resolution to do better this week than last. But I feel really good about how I spent my time yesterday. I did the things which were needful. And I also got 95% of the crochet cotton organized and boxed up last night, and a bit of shredding this morning.

Jokes the new guy has sent me.

2011-09-24T10:27:00.001-05:00

1) Men’s Logic

The following is perfectly logical to all males.

A wife asks her husband, “Could you please go shopping for me and buy one gallon of milk, and if they have eggs, get 6.”

A short time later the husband returns home with 6 cartons of milk.

The wife asked him, “Why did you buy 6 gallons of milk?”

He replied, “They had eggs.”

2) Not So Humble

I was once a legal secretary to a young law clerk who passed the bar exam on his third try. This fledgling attorney worked hard on his initial pleading, which should have read “Attorney at Law” at the top of the first page.

After I submitted the finished document for his review and signature, I was embarrassed when he pointed out a critical typing error. “Must you rub it in?” he asked.

I had typed: “Attorney at Last.”

3) Advice to an old guy

An old guy was working out in the gym when he spotted an attractive young lady.

He asked a nearby trainer, “What machine should I use to impress that lady over there?”

The trainer looked him up and down and said, “I would try the ATM in the lobby.”

***

The chemo cap is done. The mailing label is prepared. I have also gathered up the Addi Turbo’s which Tola wants and prepared a mailing label for them. Now to hie meself to the post office while they are open this morning and get them on their way.

I gathered up the new lace bits I was given by an attorney friend (leftover from her mother-in-law’s estate sale) and found a container for them, as well as the other lace bits I bought when my second doll was on-shipping. I think the project du jour will be to gather up all of my crochet thread and organize it, first by size and then by color, and put it into clear storage containers, and stack those in my studio.

My own vintage stuff, DMC #30 Cebelia white cotton thread bought at 75% off from a shop in Richardson that closed when I was pregnant with Middlest, is largely in an underbed storage box that resides under The Chastity Bed in my studio. I have another of those boxes which is totally empty, but it is too tall for a single layer of the larger (Coats & Clarks) balls from my friend, and not quite tall enough to stack them two-high.

I would love to keep them in red document boxes from the Container Store, as I do with my printer papers here by my desk, but it does not make sense to me to spend $30 on containers to protect $40 worth of thread (estimating $1 per ball; no idea what current prices are*). So I will probably take an empty box with me to Jo-Ann’s and get stackable clear plastic containers that are roughly the same size.

I also need to tackle Mount Washmore, and bathe, and eat breakfast, though not necessarily in that order. And I have no idea what should go on my needles next.

Tonight is the annual Relief Society broadcast. I walked to my first, in Provo, when Firstborn was a babe-in-arms. I have missed very few of them in the years since. And this would have been my 34th anniversary with the children’s father, which means that I can expect all sorts of weirdness to crop up today. I hope the day comes when I can celebrate 34 years, in mortality, with a beloved eternal companion. But if not, I do realize that I am incredibly and wonderfully blessed to live the life I have.

*DMC Cebelia #30 now retailing for $5.99 a ball; I have 14 balls. Coats & Clarks’ closest equivalent is their Aunt Lydia line; those balls retail for about $3.00 a ball now. I have 13 large balls and 21 small balls, plus half a dozen small balls of #5 pearl/perle cotton. American Thread Co. is no longer in business; I have three large balls. So I guess the replacement value of my crochet thread stash is roughly $170.00. I’m still not spending $30 to round it up and keep it dust-free.

Breakfast. Breakfast would be good.

My new, new favorite number is 65!!!

2011-09-23T06:32:00.002-05:00

That’s the good news. His cancer count is plummeting. The less-good news is that his platelets are getting hammered, and he is having some internal bleeding, but they are monitoring him closely. As far as I know, he has not had to get a transfusion. (I’ve asked, and he’s not had a chance to respond, as he is in full-on zombie mode at the moment.)

In other good news, there will be opportunity for much overtime next month, which should make a dent in the financial damage of recent months.

I have a whole set of new dates calendared for his chemo, CT scan, etc. He gets the latter on the 10th, but he does not get the results until November 3. He is hoping that a discreet bribe of a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of pomegranate jelly to the nurse may shorten that wait. There are three more chemo treatments scheduled, the last one for November 1, but he is back on the Tuesday/Thursday schedule, which he prefers. And he will be flying out to CA after the penultimate treatment in order to drive his mom and her stuff back to Texas.

We both thought that he would be closer to a decision by this point. My irreverent thought when he told me November 3 was that it doesn’t leave much time to plan a wedding (not that he has asked) if I want to have it when Middlest is here over Thanksgiving. I did not share that thought with him. And, thankfully, he does not yet have blog privileges.

I ate well yesterday. I feel well this morning. I had a nice steep in the tub and massaged my cankle and loosened things up a little. I am now leaving a few minutes earlier than usual, in order to pick up raisins and read the label on Mrs. Dash. Dinner last night was the leftover mushroom jollop stirred into a package of unseasoned ramen noodles. Next time I fix the mushrooms, I will add some chopped ham or chicken to the leftovers, and I would really like to be able to season the noodles.

The rice pudding was a success. I ate it for breakfast at my desk yesterday. Most of it before the staff meeting, and the rest of it afterward. When I make it again, I will actually measure the almond extract instead of splooshing it in, but that’s my only quibble. A mere quibblette.

I would just about kill for some hash browns right now, but I will close my eyes and think about England.

A lot on his plate today.

2011-09-22T05:31:00.004-05:00

The new guy has hematology at 7:30, chemo scheduled at 8:30 but he says probably closer to 10:00 because that first lab always runs an hour and a half to two hours, then the oncologist at 3:00. He is going to be wiped out out. Please pray for him.

Yes, the chemo (this would be #5) was originally scheduled for next Tuesday, but somebody decided it would be better to do it today. The new guy is less than thrilled, as he had planned to go fishing tomorrow.

I am hoping this puts us five days closer to his being well. He said he would email me when he’s home, or call me if the news is really good. Naturally, I am hoping for a call, although I hope it doesn’t come during the staff meeting. Which I am hoping against hope will be a short one.

I have been juggling chainsaws all week at work, after taking Monday off. I made a lot of progress yesterday, and I still have miles to go before I sleep. [I’ve been covering another attorney for two days, plus mine, plus the dictation from Attorney B. It will be nice to only have the regularly scheduled chaos to deal with, for the rest of the week.] I am hoping to finish the report I was working on last night, before the staff meeting, and then get the rest of my to-do’s done, plus open a new file, before it’s time to leave for the temple.

I had anxiety dreams last night. I’m not sure if it’s a function of my current workload or a reflection of dietary changes. But I woke up going “Whew, glad that’s over!”

In knitting news, I’ve begun the decreases on the chemo cap, and I will probably finish it today, which means that it’s time to plan the next project and also to decide what to take along in case I run out of stitches before I run out of lunchtime.

The new Knitty is up (I may have said that already), and I bookmarked half a dozen designs, and I’m also thinking it’s time to play with an idea of my own that has been rattling around in my head for awhile.

I was going to say Happy Tuesday!, but this is my Wednesday, and your Thursday, so never mind. Just, happy!

Six pounds. Probably from my ankles.

2011-09-21T05:57:00.004-05:00

My massage therapist said last Friday that it looked as if I had lost weight. I got on the scale at work yesterday. Six pounds. I’m guessing it’s mostly fluid from my ankles and lower calves. The right ankle is a still little puffy just above the foot, but it looks fifteen years younger. The left one has a ways to go, but the swelling is markedly less, and it’s not as warm to the touch. I’ll give it some time with the golf ball in a couple of minutes before I start getting ready for work.

I am cooking this morning, a recipe of the new guy’s. Mushrooms in the pan with about half the butter he would use, because butter is on my better not list. Then some chopped onions. Then about a tablespoon of jarred, minced garlic. Then three generous handfuls of baby spinach, lid on tight, heat turned off.

I spooned out all the bits with spinach into one container, and what was left into another. I’ll have that over rice one day soon.

I got the stitches picked up for the crown of the chemo cap, and about two inches worked up the side, so I’m guessing that it’s about one-third done. It goes a lot faster once the mindless stockinette begins.

I cannot believe that I only have one project on the needles. The new Knitty is up. I am moderately to sorely tempted by several of the designs, six of which are hanging out at the bottom of my queue, which is now five pages long.

My camera is yeeping at me. The batteries that I bought at the battery store do not last as long between charges as the batteries I bought at the camera store.

I made an appointment with the chiropractor my massage therapist recommended, for next Monday afternoon, just before my next massage. My right hip is in serious need of a tune-up. I was feeling it yesterday morning, but this morning it seems to be behaving itself. I divorced my chiropractor thirteen years ago, so I am probably way past due.

Now to check my calendar to see if I booked my next appointment with my hair magician, or if I only thought I did. My bangs are at that awkward stage, but the rest of it is growing out nicely.

They changed the new guy’s appointments. Originally he was just meeting with the oncologist tomorrow, but they’ve moved up chemo #5 from next Tuesday, which pretty much trashes this weekend for him. On the other hand, that might also make a decision on his part five days closer...

The one we had to throw back.

2011-09-20T06:15:00.003-05:00

Behold the 7” striped bass, or striper. One of my friends misread it and thought I had caught a 7’ stripper. No, we would have thrown her back even faster!

I took this one shortly before we headed back to the boat ramp. People zipping back and forth across the bridge, not sitting in a boat with a really great guy. [Funny story: we pull into a gas station on the way to the lake so he can get some minnows. Truck pulls out while he’s inside, two guys with a trailer and cement-working tools, and the guy in the passenger seat gives me a dirty look. I just smile back sweetly behind my shades.]

May I just say that I am now a true believer in SPF45. I did not even turn pink after 4+ hours out on the water. It was a really great day, even if my sneakers now smell like lake water. I have rinsed them, and they are drying out in the shower.

I did ask the new guy if there were still two petri’s in the experiment. His response? A somewhat flustered, “Umm, yeah, I think so.” The look on his face was priceless.

But we are going fishing again. And maybe next time I will catch more than a too-small striper or the anchor rope. He caught two drums, or possibly the same drum twice. (Trash fish, not musical instruments.)

The knitting went along, but I didn’t touch it, except to move it out of the way, until I got home and took a nap. As of this moment, I am ready to graft the hatband and start picking up stitches for the sides and crown.

Life is good.

Random Synaptic Firings, Monday Edition

2011-09-19T00:27:00.002-05:00

The fishing stuff is packed. Ditto a complete change of clothes in case I fall out of the boat. [If I’m prepared, it won’t happen.] Most of the October birthday gifts are wrapped. I have a small bag of stuff that will go to the thrift store next time I’m in the neighborhood. One of my girlfriends has old, but working, computer speakers; she will bring them to church next week, and I will be all set for General Conference the weekend after that.

I forgot to tell you how it went when the new guy ran the gauntlet with my people on Saturday. My bishop was there, ditto the high priest group leader, ditto the oldest and feistiest member of that quorum [those of you who know Brother Kayak from my old ward? this one’s feistier!], my dentist (who lives in my old stake), a member of the bishopric in my old ward and his wife, plus my friends H & P who live in Firstborn’s ward, and a dear friend [female] from the weeks we lived in Burleson Ward.

I sat there feeling encircled by love, surrounded by priesthood brethren who only want my happiness. [Everybody should have the privilege of knowing that feeling. Often.]

After the session, we were all in the celestial room of the temple, whispering quietly and reverently, hugging, strengthening Zion in general and me in particular. It was interesting to stand at the new guy’s side as my bishop greeted him. They are eye to eye. Nobody flinched. And I was just standing there, enjoying the moment and no doubt grinning like an idjit.

I think that I also failed to mention that the new guy has emailed me an Excel spreadsheet with foods to inquire about. I am adding to it as I think of things, and I will make an appointment with Sister Biofeedback for more testing.

It occurred to me as I was driving to church that he’s going to an awful lot of trouble for someone who hasn’t declared himself; sounds as if he might want to keep a certain Ms. Ravelled around.

It is now crazy-early in the morning, and I am going back to bed for a few hours. ETA at his place sometime between 5:30 and 6:00. And I need to wash my hair first.

Middlest, good progress on the chemo cap for your friend today.

Night, all.