Not much longer, apparently. On Saturday night Brother Sushi and I finally caught up with one another for the monthly dinner, and the yearly [or in my case, every-other-yearly] gift exchange. He loved the tie [one year late] and the miniature ice cube tray with nautical shapes [fish, clams, ships, because Rockfish is one of our fall-back restaurants] and the curried pecans [!] that I made him from Serves One and his own copy of said cookbook.
You should see his collection of cookbooks. It puts my sister’s to shame, and she’s been collecting them for years. I remember seeing her half-tower bookcase in the corner of the breakfast nook in their old house [they’ve been in the new house almost 20 years now] and wondering what anybody would need beyond Joy of Cooking and the BH&G red cookbook and the Betty Crocker Cookie Book.
Yeah, I’m a late bloomer in the kitchen.
So what did he give me? A red Mikasa box that tells me something gorgeous is inside; in this case, a large, lovely *red* platter for chips and dip, and the sad news that this will probably be the last Mikasa he can give me, as they’re going out of the retail business, and while Macy’s will carry them, Macy’s is also downscaling its retail business, and some of those stores will be here in Texas.
I would show you a picture of the new platter, but I’m keeping it in its box until I know where I’ll be living after LittleBit graduates in June.
LittleBit is spreading her wings. I probably heard more from her this weekend than I usually do, as she called to ask, “I’m at Point A; what’s the best way to get to Point B?” She knows our town like the back of her hand, but this was Fort Worth. Yesterday she took HerBoy over to Secondborn’s house to meet that part of the family. [On Saturday she got to meet his stepbrother.] Yesterday he called me “Mama”, which will take a little getting used to but doesn’t make me twitch.
It was a big day on another front as well. LittleBit and I drove separate cars to church, because she had work afterward and I. Didn’t. Have. To. Drive. Her. There. What did I do, instead? Drove to FW and had another two hours of church with Secondborn and her tribe. Got my black leather jacket patina’d by buckets of baby drool. And, not so coincidentally, met the Good Brother that 2BDH has been wanting me to meet.
He told me what nice kids and grandkids I had. I commended him on his perspicacity. He then smiled at Secondborn and said, “We’ll be in touch.” Time will tell what that means; I wonder if he’ll be at the old folks’ singles dance tonight? But at any rate, I have done what he requested of 2BDH: gone to church in their ward so we can be introduced, and the ball is now squarely in his court. I will have a blast tonight, with or without his assistance, because Brother Sushi is the DJ. And the regular first-Friday dance is this coming weekend, and my feet don’t hurt, so I’m looking forward to that one as well.
Knitting progress? You want knitting progress? Here you go; Firestarter, with its heel turned, and ready to gallop up the gusset:
Provisional cast-ons for Eleanora. I need to hop over to the couch and do some swatching, as my lower calf is considerably larger than what MimKnits had in mind when she designed the sock. And I don’t know if I should use the needle size specified and cast on a third more stitches, or if I should cast on the specified number of stitches because my gauge is so much looser, or use 000’s and 00’s with the larger number of stitches. And I need to figure that out *today*, because this is supposed to be my December sock of the month for Sock Knitters Anonymous, and I may want to cast on a quick pair of The International Sock of Doom as well, just to get December checked off quickly. Because I am already working on two fiddly pairs of socks and planning to introduce a third, and a fourth pair that I can polish off in three days might not be as insane as it sounds.
Yes, I am using my Christmas gift exchange yarn; Eleanora deMedici’s originals were knitted in red silk.
Another inch and a half on the Stripedy Socks at church yesterday.
Yes, I knit at my home ward. No, I didn’t pull the sock out of my bag at the kids’ ward. Yes, I am chicken, just a little; best to introduce my quirks to the Good Brother over time, and not all at once. Though he doesn’t seem the stuffy sort.
While we were browsing at Hobby Lobby on Thursday, LittleBit noticed some wall art, marked 50% off. Several large keys, which led her to remark that she likes old keys and wants a house where old keys will work. And then we saw some framed metal pieces, probably stamped sheet metal but looking a bit like wrought iron, which spelled out “Love” and “Faith” and other words. “Look, Mommy, love has the lock, and faith has the key!” [The O of “love” was formed by a lock, and the I in “faith” was formed by a key.] Smart kid.
Here’s a link to an essay by the late, lovely, Benazir Bhutto. The imbeciles who assassinate brave souls who stand for truth and righteousness think that by doing so, they will demoralize the rest of us. They do not understand the depth of resolve they stir up. Do you remember how tender we were with one another after 9-11, regardless of our political views? How we grieved for those whom we had lost, and how we pulled together? Yes, of course there is chaos at first, but then character resurfaces. The hotheads may appear to be winning in the MidEast in the short run, but anyone who reads the Book of Revelation will be comforted to know the ultimate outcome.
Joan of Arc died; France did not. Dr. King died; the push for true equality in this country continues. Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum were martyred in 1844; the mobbers thought that that would be the end of the church, and there are now roughly 13 million of us, worldwide.
As Longfellow wrote in the words to one of my favorite Christmas hymns, The wrong will fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.
- 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!