It is 4:58am on a dark and quiet Sabbath morning. Quiet because we slept at the new place. While I was napping yesterday afternoon, I could hear the new neighbor kids playing happily outside. Not one of them sounded like trouble-on-training-wheels. Like the place we are leaving, it’s a diverse population. Unlike the place we are leaving, the UN does not need to send in a peacekeeping force. I have seen a lovely middle-aged lady from somewhere in Asia, wearing traditional dress. I have seen smiling faces in every conceivable hue. My wonderful neighbor from upstairs is moving into the other end of the complex.
When LittleBit and I came home with the feather tick and my duvet, which I had hastily shoved into my walk-in closet so the brethren could take my bed apart, a parade of kids was crossing the driveway to play. One of them, a little girl of about six or seven, stopped, smiled, and did the Vanna White thing with her arms, indicating that she was more than happy to wait for me to drive past before she joined her friends.
Mutual courtesy. You know, it just might catch on!
Things I have noticed about the new place: I am going to have to get used to sleeping on the other side of the bed, because the bathroom is on the opposite side of the room. I am going to miss having two doors between me and the living room. LittleBit is sleeping, and I hope the clicking of the keyboard is not disturbing her. There is a direct auditory connection between my bathroom and her bedroom. One of her friends called in the middle of the night, when I was awake for middle-aged reasons, and I heard someone talking, and I realized that I knew that voice very well. She has one dear friend in delicate health who rarely has her crises at a civilized hour. Said friend’s mother is in the hospital again.
My shampoo, hand soap, and blow dryer are at the other place. Yes, I am washing my hands; that’s what dish soap is for, and I am rapidly using up my store of paper napkins because the paper towels are in the other kitchen with most of the rest of the cleaning supplies. And the parking lot is still blocked off. I’ll go over about 7:00 to retrieve my stuff. I guess I’ll take down my Wall Words while I’m at it. I need to decide if I want the same quotation or a different one in this new place, and I need to decide whether I want to wait until I buy a home first.
There’s another one of those dratted white moths loose in the apartment. I think it’s a vegetarian; it doesn’t look like the type that eats wool. But still! It is drawn to bright glowing things, like the computer monitor, the kitchen light, or my calves. I winged it with a napkin against the monitor, and it managed to fly away after batting against my leg awhile. I am so thankful not to be a bug-screamer.
I have just polished off my salad from last night. There are other leftovers in the fridge, but nothing that I want to eat at 5:00am. I think there might be issues with Thursday night’s leftover tortilla soup about midway through sacrament meeting. My fish from Friday night is in the other fridge, as is the milk, and again, I don’t want to go over there before sunrise if I have to park halfway across the complex.
One of the brethren remarked quietly that it was probably a good idea that we were moving. Somebody’s car was pumping bass, before noon.
I can’t think of anything else to say, so I will go tend to my knitting for an hour and a half, or until I run out of yarn. The rest of the yarn is here. The swift and ball-winder are not.
- 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!