About Me

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Five 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, February 27, 2007

Taking comfort in the familiar

Fiberjoy commented recently that she does the K2 P2 top-down socks because they're comfortable, and familiar. I think there's absolutely nothing wrong with sticking with something that works for you. I am big on traditions, myself. One tradition that I am honoring as we speak, is my long-held one of not putting the Christmas stuff away. My folk art Christmas tree, which never quite got decorated because I was in a snit over Romance Gone Sour, is still partially blocking the door to the hallway. The wreaths didn't make it into the windows and are still stacked, slipping a little, on top of a storage box.

Some folks might think this a little weird. I prefer to think of it as charmingly eccentric.

What is weird, is how I could have gotten Ms. Knitingale's husband's cold when he's in the Greater Seattle area and I've never met him. Flo, honey, please tell him to turn his head the *other* way when he sneezes, OK? But the same wonders of modern technology have quite possibly brought me the cure: something called "cold calm" that Knitspot wrote about in her blog recently. I haven't bought any yet, but tomorrow is payday, and once I find out what's in it and if it's compatible with my Rx's, I plan to try it out.

I love living in a time when there are so many different therapies available. I've never needed acupuncture, but I'm open to the idea. I've had three massage therapists that I rotated through: one I still see who does the whole lovely Swedish thing with aromatherapy and soothing music and quiet conversation, and another woman who does sports massage, and a fellow who does shiatsu when I've let it go too long and basically need to be broken apart and put back together. I saw him for the first time about a year after my mother died, and it felt as if he were scooping living fire out from under my shoulder blades.

I had my first baby in the hospital and the other four at home using a midwife. I take Chinese herbs [ba nguyen] for my fall allergies. Work has been pretty tense this week, and while I would love to take the time for a full-body massage, I think I'd be equally happy with a me-sized fondue pot filled with almond oil, and I could just fry my troubles away and get a tan while I'm at it.

I begged out of a church meeting tonight because of these sniffles. I am bagging the dance tomorrow night for the same reason, and I called Firstborn on the way home from work to ask her to pick up LittleBit's and my quilt blocks on Saturday. She owed me an equivalent amount of cash for some incidentals I picked up for the granddaughter's dance a couple of weeks ago, and it's been too crazy around here to get together since then, so everybody wins.

Unfortunately, it's been nearly two months since I last saw Secondborn and BittyBit, but I see no sense sharing my cooties with them, particularly since Secondborn is pregnant and taking classes and quite sick enough already.

So what did I do tonight? Grabbed a movie on the drive home and watched it while working on the 0000 project. I didn't catch it in the theatres before Christmas, and I saw a trailer a few weeks back while checking my email. "Stranger than Fiction". Will Ferrell has a gift for playing men who are smart and well-meaning and about half a bubble off level. I loved him in "Elf". I'm probably going to watch this one at least once more before I have to return it. The only major character whose work I hadn't seen was Maggie Gyllenhaal, and I liked her, too.

Will close with the inscription I saw on a T-shirt at Wal-Mart way too early this morning. "You used to be my type ~ but I got help." Sadly, it does not come in my size, or I'd get one and wear it to the next church singles dance. The sisters, at least, would find it amusing.

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