I logged onto the Churchboy Dating Service the other day, only because if I don’t log on at least once a month, they will cancel my membership. And there were three guys in chat, one of them with the same first name and last initial as a long-ago fiancé [#5, midway between my baptism and marrying the children’s father]. I wondered if it could be the same guy. But this guy is nine years younger than me, which would have made him 14 at the time I dated Fiance #5, so no.
In other random observations, Fourthborn and Fiancé are packing to move into a place of their own. They hope to make the move this Saturday. It will take significantly longer to finish mucking out her father’s stuff. The girls are planning to sell most of his 30-year collection of books, either at Half Price Books or in an online auction, to defray the expenses of the nursing home. Medicare only pays for the first 20 days after a hospitalization. [I am so thankful for my own long-term care insurance policy; I also have disability insurance, just in case you girls were wondering.]
They know that he has another banking account, but not where or how much is in it. He wants to save that for his “investments” [a/k/a the next get-rich-quick scheme to come down the pike]. They need it to pay his bills. Which I’m sure are starting to roll in from his stay at the We’re Discharging You Early, Surprise! Hospital.
Oh please help me to keep my ducks in a row, so the girls don’t have to go through this with me in a few decades!
I frogged the stealth project yesterday morning and have recouped about half of the knitting progress I had made. Picked up Middlest for Knit Night and swapped needles with her. I am now using my Addi Naturas, and she is using my Addi Turbos; I thought they would be a bit too slick for her to start out with, with all the other factors that a new knitter has to deal with. I think we are both happier with the change in needles.
She has decided that her current project will be a garter stitch blanket for one of her ball-jointed dolls. I am absolutely amazed at how even her stitches are. I suppose I shouldn’t be; she has been meticulous about details since she was old enough to hold a pencil.
I tried to teach her the continental knit stitch, and while she can appreciate its usefulness, it feels wrong to her, because she is knitting right-handed though a southpaw. [Middlest is somewhat ambidexterous.]
Her STBX called her yesterday with an excuse about why he hadn’t sent the separation papers and an offer of half the amount of moving expenses they had agreed on, in cash, from his mother; she is helping him and his girlfriend with expenses for their baby. His mother [a/k/a The Harridan] has been hateful to Middlest from the get-go, because they eloped, and because I suspect that nobody is quite good enough for her son. I think that this is her idea of an “if we give you a going-away present, will you go away?” offer.
Texas is a community property state, and he is still domiciled here. I am trying to feel sad about that. [Or the likelihood that once the “new” is off their relationship and The Harridan actually meets the girlfriend, she will be on the receiving end of the same sort of treatment.]
Thanks, Tinks, for reminding me about this song.
- 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!