Cue the music!
Or, alternatively, this one.
I saw this on Wanda’s blog. Naturally, I had to play, too! Though I have to confess, I’ve been to way more of the places on Brian Burns’s Texas version than on Johnny Cash’s recording.
And one province in Canada.
Caveat: I think I've been to Delaware and Maryland. About ten years ago, I was getting my AAS in interpreting for the deaf, and we took a field trip to Washington, DC, at spring break. I would have to sit down with a map of the area and remember all the historical sites that we visited. It was one of those “If it’s Tuesday, this must be Belgium” trips.
The highlight for me was a sprint through the Smithsonian with one of my fellow students. That year there was a room of kimono, displayed cuff to cuff so that the seasons moved almost imperceptibly from one to the next to illustrate the turning of a year. I remember that the artist was something like 80 years old and that each kimono took over a year to complete. There were dozens of them, each more beautiful than the last. [And obviously, he had a studio, with people to help with the gruntwork.] Somewhere in all this chaos, I have a postcard of one of the red ones. When Linda and I hit that gallery, we came to a dead stop and nearly wept with joy.
How can it be Tuesday already?
I turned off the heat last night, and I think I need to turn the AC back on. I am distinctly warm, and I don’t think that it’s going to get any cooler between now and when I leave for work. [Holy cow, it was 75°F in here! Now wonder I was feeling sticky!]
I went to the Natatorium as planned last night, and since I was able to roll out of bed this morning without the assistance of a crane and a winch, I’m going back for seconds after work tonight and before heading over to Knit Night.
I’ve mentioned how warm and welcoming the ladies at Knit Night are. First impressions of this new bunch are pretty much the same. I don’t think there’s anybody really young in that class, “young” being defined as the roughly the age of my daughters. It seems to be mostly boomers like me and a few geezers and geezettes. Most of whom seemed to have far greater mobility than I do at present. Quite a few of them said hi, either before the class or afterward, and were very encouraging.
And I like the teachers.
So I will be a little later than usual to Knit Night, and redolent of chlorine. I’m trying to figure out how dinner works, if I get home at 7:30 three nights a week. Last night I just made a pimiento-cheese sandwich and washed it down with a mug of fruit juice. This morning I woke up ravenous but wanted to write more than I wanted to eat.
I’ve had a small glass of milk and my first-ever mug of Mexican hot chocolate. [There will be more of same, some other day, even if it does involve standing at the stove and whisking for ten minutes or more.] And I know that I need to send down a big shot of protein, but I also want to leave for the Y in about 15 minutes. And there are two chicken breasts that really need to get cooked today and a pan that didn’t come clean in the dishwasher and had to be soaked, so I’m thinking that the crock-pot is the next best plan. I wonder if I can adapt that great recipe I found in RealSimple?
Would the real mommy please show up and take charge?
I know that in a few weeks I will have adjusted to “the new normal” and have figured out how to balance the need for greater range of motion with the need to eat, and knit, and read, and ponder. But at the moment I feel much as BittyBit did when she was stuck sitting upright because she couldn’t hook that second knee under her and crawl.
- 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!