About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Licensed, medically prescribed torture

Body is quite crabby with me this evening. Had a good PT session this morning before work ~ best part was hearing my name called, and it was a sister in my Relief Society who is also getting PT ~ but did ask my therapist if she has a special machine for sharpening her elbows between therapy sessions.

I was able to mail the two wigs that didn't suit my newest doll back to the shop. There is a 5% restocking fee, and I had to eat the shipping, but they gave me my choice of refund or store credit. Needless to say, I chose store credit.

No Knit Night tonight. I picked up Fourthborn's replacement birth certificate and came straight home. Kids are up. I've transferred my notes for Sunday's talk into Evernote, and I'm going to try to go to bed now, rather than later.

Tomorrow I'll scan and encrypt the birth certificate and email it to JPS and give them a little push to see where we are in the process.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Poster child for crazy-tired, yet again

Good day at work. Lots accomplished. After work, I got my split ends trimmed off (and lost about 5" in length, but it will grow out again). From there to Costco, home by way of Kroger and Braums. The kids brought in the groceries and helped put them away. I ate dinner at 9:30.

There's doll news; hop on over to the other blog if you're interested.

Tomorrow will be a long one: PT then work, then over to Arlington to pick up Fourthborn's replacement birth certificate (and hang out at Knit Night). On Wednesday I'll scan it and encrypt it and forward it to JPS.

All of that lovely sleep which I got this past weekend has vanished like ice sublimating off the windshield when you've set the defroster on high. So glad that I have a four day weekend to look forward to.

Ms. Ravelled, over and out.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Yesterday's mail

Yesterday's mail, which I did not grab until I was out the door for church this morning. Nissan wants to sell Beloved a truck. Avenue wants to sell me a new wardrobe. And the school that The Bitties attend would like me to donate.

Laughter: it's good for the immune system.

It was a good day at church. Y'all know that I'm the sacrament meeting chorister. Sometimes, because of how incredibly busy they are, the bishopric is unable to get me the topics for the next week's meeting until the Sunday before (so I may pick hymns that align with the topics). This was one of those Sundays.

After sacrament meeting, I approached our bishop. He grinned, because he knew what I wanted. I asked him if we had a topic for next week. He grinned again, deftly avoiding the subject, and remarked that it had been awhile since I’d spoken in church.

I asked if he wanted me to speak in church. He asked if I wanted to speak in church. I asked if he wanted me to speak next Sunday.

He asked if I were willing to speak next Sunday. I asked if he had a topic in mind.

He asked what I thought a good topic might be. I replied, “the power of music in our lives,” and his face lit up. He gave me some counsel as to how to approach that, and then he said, “There’s your topic. Pick the hymns accordingly.”

I love our bishop. He takes his calling seriously. And injects humor whenever appropriate!

Because of Facebook, I've already added notes and references to the Word document that will become my talk. I am really looking forward to studying, pondering, writing, editing, rinse and repeat.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Lazy day ...

... doesn't even begin to describe it. I have eaten, quilted a very little, eaten some more, and slept. A six and a half hour nap, to be specific. Obviously, I needed it.

I've read through a PDF to make a doll-scale corset, noted the author's supply sources in a sidebar on the doll blog, and drooled over a full option doll that costs nearly as much as my first car (c. 1972). Who is, thankfully, too large a doll to shoehorn in among my others. Nevertheless, it's a good thing that she wasn't offered when I got my bonus earlier this year, or I might have been tempted above my ability to resist.

This is the sink that greeted me when I awoke from my nap two and a half hours ago:

Three people who thoughtfully rinse their dishes and wait for whichever of us whose back is spasming the least to empty and reload the dishwasher. Last night it was me. Tonight it will probably also be me, as Middlest is severely migraine-y, and Fourthborn has joints that are popping in and out of socket like pistons in a race car.

Last night I succumbed to the blandishments of Amazon for Samsung and downloaded the app, then a book written by the daughter of a longtime friend, then the most recent book by my friend Sooz. I stayed up until 2:00am reading them both. This morning I bought another book. I don't know that I will ever cough up the funds for an actual Kindle. I don't mind reading on my phone.

First load of laundry is in the dryer. Second load is in the washer. Two chicken pot pies are in the oven. And I guess it's time for me to work some magic with the dishwasher. I'm still feeling distinctly unambitious. The knot in my right calf from Wednesday's charley horse is smaller but lingers. As does my gratitude that I'm not experiencing boils or a plague of locusts.

Friday, May 19, 2017


I am sitting here, reading blog posts and eating fruit leftover from the retirement party for one of the nicest attorneys in our office. I've chewed my way through my share of the cantaloupe. I took my bowl back out to the kitchen to cut the hulls out of the extremely ripe strawberries and thought of Alan Rickman. "Locksley, I'll cut your heart out with a spoon!"

At this rate, it may take me until midnight to finish my "dinner" ~ I have three huge and one small strawberry left, and I haven't even begun on the grapes or the fresh pineapple which is lurking beneath them.

I'm quite enjoying the process. Chew on some food, chew on an idea, delete an email.

It was a good day at work. The vertigo appears to be ambling off into the sunset. I'm continuing to move a little more slowly, a little more deliberately. I feel a bit like the good guy in a 50's cowboy movie: "No sudden moves, podner, and keep your hands where I can see 'em!" The bad guy would be my inner ear, wearing an infinitesimally small black hat.

The most recent upgrade of my cell phone has give me a feature that irritates the fire out of me. When I plug in my phone to recharge (if it's still live), there's a banner that asks if I know that my phone is on silent, and do I want to still get my calls anyway, or is it OK? Yes, phone, I know that I've got you on silent. I do this because I only turn the ringer on when I'm expecting a call that I want or need. I might be a little forgetful from time to time, but I'm not likely to forget that I no longer enjoy visiting on the phone. That joy made like Elvis and left the building after eight years on switchboard to keep food on the table. Text me. Email me. IM me. Sit down and write me a good old-fashioned letter. Or we could meet for dinner and hours of face to face conversation.

I have to make and receive phone calls as a legal secretary. I get that. And I'm good at it. But on my personal scale of want-to-do-this, it's a notch or two below getting my teeth cleaned.

In knitting news, I picked up all of the stitches along the heel flap in order to begin the gusset decreases. There may or may not be more knitting tonight, but it's been an hour since I began this post, and I still haven't finished my grapes. Well, I've finished the ones I brought home from the party, but I haven't touched the ones that I took to work in my lunch bag this morning, nor the last of the grape tomatoes which accompanied them. I feel wonderfully refreshed by all this fruit, and if I don't send down something else to serve as an anchor of sorts, 2:00am may get interesting.

I'm thinking a moderate serving of Fage + Nutella, with maybe a handful of granola thrown in for good measure. Not too heavy for someone who hopes to be in bed in another hour, but enough to remind my body who's boss.

Thursday, May 18, 2017


Turned the heel while waiting for the second half of my temple recommend interview with a member of the stake presidency this evening.

No matter how many times I do this, it still feels like magic.

I'm pleased to report that there was significantly less vertigo today. It remains to be seen if that's the case once I lie down. I've cancelled my RSVP for the Pie Five meet tomorrow night, in the spirit of driving as little as possible until I've returned to what passes for normal.

My physical therapist made hamburger of my hips today. I asked her if, when she was a girl, she thought she'd grow up to stick her pointy elbow into people's joints. She said no, it hadn't occurred to her at the time. She's very good at what she does. My hips, however, are muttering mutinously and taking her name in vain.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Chicken Little has taken up residence in my head.

Hard to believe this song is almost 50 years old.

Here's another good one.

And one that's good, silly fun.

What's the impetus for all this nostalgia, you ask? Well, it's been quite a day. I awoke about half an hour ahead of the alarm, starting awake from a dead sleep with the sensation that I was going to fall out of bed to the floor on my right. I immediately spun to my left, tweaking my right calf into a charley horse as I did, and the room spun like a merry-go-round. All of the hamstring stretches I've been doing as part of my PT helped me ease out the worst of the knot in my calf, and I was able to sit up and stagger to the loo.

I'm really glad that we installed grab bars last year.

After work, I went to the night clinic to get my ears checked. There's no sign of fluid in the middle ear. The doctor had a wonderfully droll sense of humor. He said the only way to determine that there's a problem in the inner ear, is to do an autopsy, and most patients aren't excited about that.

After determining that I had no pain in my ears, no headache, no nausea, no fever, no sore throat, and that I wasn't feeling as if I were going to pass out, just keel over, he checked my eyes, throat, and lungs, felt my lymph nodes. Nada. He had me flatten my hands and splay my fingers as wide as I could, then resist him trying to push various fingers together. Nothing worrisome there.

Then he said that while I certainly don't look my age, the fact is that I'm 65 and sometimes weird stuff happens as we get older. His best guess is that this is benign something something vertigo, and he wrote a prescription and told me not to drive any more than I absolutely have to until this resolves, probably within a couple of weeks. He also said that, looking at me, he would have guessed me to be 15 to 20 years younger than my age. I asked if I could adopt him. (When I texted this to Fourthborn, she said she thought I had enough kids already. I can't argue that.)

Here's a link to a Johns Hopkins article on benign paroxysmal positional vertigo. So basically, it's all in my head. But we knew that. And there's a physical therapy move that can fix it. I was mildly amused to read that this type of vertigo frequently happens when old people roll over in bed.

I'm planning to set up my nest right smack in the middle of the bed tonight. There's a six-foot hose on my CPAP, and I'm planning to take advantage of that.