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!

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Way More Random Stuff than Usual

Obviously, my math skills were off considerably in yesterday’s post. Just as they were decades ago when I made 2/3 the rice but put in 3/2 the curry powder, thus putting myself off curry for the rest of my natural life. 1/4lb of lovely turquoise yarn roughly equals 1/8kg, so 112g would be about right.

I got notification of a possible match on the Churchboy Dating Service. Clicked the link and read his profile. He sounded plausible, so I logged in, and there was no profile on the actual website that matched his name. Just as I feared: Brother Right is a Fig Newton of my imagination! [Yes, I know, I know; if he were truly Brother Right, and this were the right time, he would have been there when I clicked. So he is obviously Brother Wrong, and I have been spared another disaster.]

KnitPicks has new wallpaper for your computer. Guess which one I chose? I may not keep it long; it reminds me a little too forcefully of what I don’t have, rather than all that I do. Can’t wait to hear what LittleBit has to say; she thinks so much like me that it’s scary, and she is in the same leaky boat!

OK, this is just weird. I think the sample is skewed. It reminds me of what my statistics teacher taught us, umpteen years ago: there are lies, d@mn lies, and statistics.

Yes, I am feeling seriously OLS [Oh Look! Shiny!]. Or just susceptible. I hadn’t cooked, really cooked, in two weeks or more. And yesterday I marched myself into the kitchen and started throwing away battered disposable plastic containers and emptying out the fridge.

Made a small pot of lentil soup with the usable portion of those geriatric leeks. Yes, the two that were left from the last time that Cooking Madness overtook me. Sautéed them in a bit of butter and olive oil, chopped up half of my sad-looking but not irredeemable carrots, dumped in the last of the red lentils [three years old but hurrah! for dried legumes] and a quart of beef broth. Decided it needed a little something and rooted around for a cinnamon stick that had seen better days, and a small handful of fennel seeds.

[Ate the last of the boxed cereal throughout the day and pitched the box. Ran the dishwasher *again*, as things hadn’t gotten entirely clean the first time around.]

Went back and stirred the soup, which smelled heavenly and was too thin for my taste. Fished out the cinnamon stick. Ripped open an envelope of Parmesan pasta, stirred it in, and reset the timer for a few extra minutes.

The end result? Rather bland in color, but nicely complex in flavor, and filling. Which is good, because I feel unaccountably empty. Jo’s post with the birds building nests made me smile; it also made me face the fact that I want to have somebody to cook for. LittleBit is gearing up for the UIL competition and working as many hours as she can. [We were both happily surprised to spend an hour or two in the living room together, late yesterday morning. She added charms to a bracelet, and I played on the computer, and we talked!] We have not eaten a meal at home together in weeks.

I am spending more and more time with the dinner group, which ensures that while she is otherwise occupied, I am not sitting in a corner, chewing off a paw. I do not want to turn into one of those women who natter on endlessly about imaginary ailments, or who accumulate a small country’s worth of cats. You know: the character that Ruth Buzzi played on Laugh-In, with her stockings rolled down and her hair in a net, sitting on the park bench and whaling Arte Johnson with her purse. Or turn into a “cougar” like some women I know, prowling restlessly for ridiculously younger men. [What would I do with one? It’s not like I could have a physical relationship with him, and what on earth would we talk about?]

Speaking of more statistics, this led me to this, which led me to this, and then this. What can I say? I was nearly done binding off the stitch marker bag that will be going out in the mail to my friend Tola. And just a wee bit twitchy. [Pictures of the bag, and her stitch markers, to be posted after she receives them.]

To make the bag, I used the tiny ball of yarn that was leftover from my Monkey socks. [Even better, I also found the socks!] It’s fatter than the purple yarn that I used for Tinks’ bag, so I cast on 13 stitches for a 12-stitch-wide bag and knitted fewer rows. I also doubled the number of stitches on my needle, the row after I formed the eyelets, so that I could work K1P1 ribbing for three rows and have a more ruffly finish to the bag. [And also because Tinks’ bag was a little fiddly to bind off since I had forgotten to grab the next needle size up for that purpose, and the opening was just *that* much smaller than I would have liked. But her hands are daintier than mine, so no harm done.]

This yarn is Jitterbug, very smooth and springy, so I had no difficulties anywhere in the process. And I have almost exactly two yards left, perfect for marking afterthought heels on the next pair of socks that I have in mind for myself. Can’t wait to see if what I see when I close my eyes, looks as good when on the needles. And can’t wait to show you!

I ended up not leaving the house at all yesterday. [Didn’t even turn my phone on.] Although at one point I would have just about killed for some French fries or hash browns. Because nothing says love like greasy, salty potatoes. I contemplated dashing out for a $5 pizza and to rent a movie, but fixed myself a small salad and hard-boiled some eggs, instead. Don’t cry for me, Argentina; I also ate a serving of the Dove 71% cacao bar that one of the Good Brothers gave me at the dance on Friday to reward me for my first official act as a moderator on our board. And about 9pm I whipped up a pot of risotto, to use up the last of the chicken stock.

I am pondering a couple of chairs that I saw on our walkabout on Thursday night. I think I will run by there on my lunch hour one day next week and take another look. There were insets in the chair backs that looked like thin slices of polished pink granite, and I think the seats were burgundy velvet. The chairs were carefully stacked atop a table or sideboard, so I couldn’t touch the chair backs to satisfy my curiosity. Very late-Victorian-Chinoiserie. Seriously quirky.

I think they would look great with my gate-leg table, tucked into a corner of the new kitchen. I remember that that particular shop has layaway, and they also have a small cupboard that was very inexpensive and only needed a little work [and a pane of glass on the door] to make it perfect for displaying my good china. I think the chairs would fit easily into my car for the trip home, but I think I would need help getting the cupboard out here. Happily, I know someone with a truck.

I got really bored last night, so I hauled out the Murphy’s Oil Soap and cleaned this up. Tilt your head sideways; Blogger issues. It’s 42” [about 107cm] high, 24” [about 61cm] wide, and the shelves are 4” [10cm] deep.

[Yes, that is a blue towel you see in the picture. It was a hand-me-down. I use it for grubby tasks, because I am trying to wear it out as soon as decently possible.] I don’t remember if I bought this cupboard from Brother Stilts when he moved, or if he gave it to me in exchange for my nearly-defunct washer and dryer. But it leaned facing against the wall in the previous apartment, and I would like to use it somewhere in the duplex. [It might be an excellent repository for my sheep collection.] Here is a shot of the four shelves; I need to put new screws into the sides of the cupboard, for them to rest on. Again, tilt your head.

I can envision this cupboard with bits of filet crochet lace tacked to each shelf. There’s a nice squished crownish molding at the top of the cupboard that disappeared when I snapped the first picture. Crocheting four strips of lace for these shelves ought to keep me out of the pool halls for awhile longer.

I was weary and full of good simple food when I went to bed last night. And I think I productively used up the excess energy that I’d been feeling throughout the day. I didn’t overeat, and I didn’t go out for retail therapy. Though it’s obvious from this post that I was doing a lot of virtual retail therapy! Instead, I puttered about and made my little corner of the world a more pleasant place to be.

Except for the nice chat with LittleBit, I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anybody. I just wanted time and space to think. And I connected a few dots about my life and my purpose and had a bit of creative inspiration. All of which is way better than sitting around and feeling sorry for myself, which I mostly avoided.

We were not meant to dwell alone, we humans. We were meant to be devoted to one another. Sometimes the ten years that I have been officially single, seems like a very long time. And then I remember how I am thankful not to be unhappily and unequally yoked; that was far worse.

I got over seven hours of sleep last night. Can’t wait to see how this day unfolds...


Bonnie said...

Having the phone turned off all day would explain why I couldn't reach you to see what time you were coming over. I think your phone is still turned off, so give me a call and let me know if you are still planning on coming over today. We'll give you your grandbaby fix, which might temporarily pull you our of this funk.

Jenni said...

You kill me. What is the point of having a phone if you can't be reached. What if I, ok bad example, how about my daughter, was bleeding to death? Wouldn't you want to know before it was completely over?

I am glad that you had a restful day, ate well and were able to accomplish things that you wanted to get done. Or didn't want to get done but needed to do anyway.