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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!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Yoga: it's the new knitting

Tonight after work I stopped in at the friendly local YMCA and signed up for a single-parent membership for LittleBit and me. I'd run into Wally World on the way to work and scored a shocking pink yoga mat. Between work and the Y, I ran into my favorite plus-size shop and found a black dressy skirt for less than $7, to replace my old workhorse black skirt that I bought six years ago, the one that the cleaners killed the elastic on last time, boo hiss, and a pair of yoga pants for 40% off.

LittleBit was unavailable to go with me tonight, but I attended my first-ever yoga class and loved it. I can't do much of anything yet, still too stiff from the broken leg, but I tried a little bit of almost everything, and when I couldn't do what the teacher and the class were doing, I just stood or sat or lay there and b*r*e*a*t*h*e*d. I like the teacher, and I loved the music, and at one point I was standing with a list to starboard and heard/felt my spine go Pop. Pop. Pop. Little languid bubbles of ahhhh rising to the surface. When it was time to list to port, I heard about as many pops from the other side of my spinal column, truly one of the best things that I've felt in recent months.

And way too soon, class was over, and it was time to roll up my mat and grab some dinner. I bought a fat, sassy sweet potato and a perfect little lime and some smoked salmon, about two portions' worth, and I rented a video and came home. Dinner was spinach with a generous dollop of olive/dijon dressing, and half of the sweet potato with a bit of real butter and some freshly grated nutmeg and a sploosh of Grade B maple syrup, the stuff that's oh so flavorful. And some of the salmon. When I want to be really good to myself, I eat fish. I can hear all those microscopic cellular bits yodeling "thanks, Mom!"

And now it's almost 10pm, and I've been up since 4am, and I feel relaxed but not weary. I'm going to pop in the DVD and put on my jammies and the new robe that I ordered online a couple of weeks ago and pretend I'm somebody glamorous in a 30's film, and knit for dessert.

I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off to play with LittleBit, who's on spring break.

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