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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!

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Testosterone Poisoning

This was my Family Home Evening lesson last night. I don’t know anything about his politics or his personality, but this was a nice bite-sized portion of ponderables.

Cool stuff seen on the train yesterday morning: We passed over a canal, just west of downtown Fort Worth. I saw a mallard swimming in it. There was no time to grab the camera and show you. Maybe today? He looked about as happy to be swimming in that canal as I feel when sitting in my new bathtub.

I unvented a new beverage yesterday. Cranberry Coke. I had just a splash of cranberry juice leftover from lunch. And I was getting groggy. So I poured in a splash of Cherry Coke, and down the hatch it went.

And then I cleaned my glasses. Wow, talk about a whole new world!

Not-so-cool stuff seen on the train last night: We came to a rolling halt just east of the Richland Hills station. This is why.



Truck bed blocking the track, and a bunch of young guys standing around looking sheepish. Taken through the train window.

Dude, where’s my boat?



I cracked up the ladies sitting around me when I shook my head sadly and proclaimed, “Testosterone poisoning”.

I left the park-and-ride at 7:15, and right after I got home the phone rang. It was my dear friend Brother Karitas, and we chatted until I had to pay attention to my pasta. This was dinner: shell macaroni from my food storage, jazzed up with a serving of trees and cheese, a small spoonful of bottled minced garlic, and the last of the chopped pimientos, all glued together with a can of cream of celery soup that needed to be used, or pitched.



Tastes better than it looks, I promise! I was so pleased; I found my trusty old colander.



And my red pinchy thingie. I know I packed my two silicone hot pads. I just don’t know where.



And then I had a small salad, and a small bowl of leftover baked beans. I like what Mark Twain said: eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside you! [Not sure where my Bartlett’s is, but that’s the gist of it.] And a minuscule helping of ice cream for dessert.

Some non-argumentative knitting just before bedtime; I used up the first ball of the Noro. And then a small adventure! I was just getting ready for bed, and suddenly somebody was banging on the pipes. Much too rhythmic and intentional to be a raccoon. I went to the front door and turned on the porch light, and out in the yard stood a friend of the duplex owner’s whom I had met several years ago, with a friend of his. They were getting some solvent out of the truck to try to loosen up something on the other side of the duplex. No harm done, once I got over being startled.

Exchanged text messages with LittleBit yesterday, who assures me that progress is being made in her room, and that she will do the final vacuuming. Woohoo! That means all I have to do is clean that commode one last time and wipe out the sinks and swab the counters.

Knit Night tonight, and then [I most devoutly hope] I will bring the last load of oddments home and can turn in my keys on Saturday.

2 comments:

Bonnie said...

I really liked that G.B. interview you linked to today. It was so nice to see someone bear such a sweet testimony, especially in such a public way. Let me know when you are sufficiently unpacked to have me over to help you organize your photos.

Jenni said...

I just want to come over and irritate you by moving stuff around when I think you are not looking.