I spent weekend before last puttering in the kitchen and on the computer, serving others in small quiet ways, dancing a little, and knitting. I spent the most recent weekend in the kitchen, enjoying the company of some of my daughters, and at church. With occasional breaks for knitting.
Trainman spent his weekends puttering about his house, fixing things up, spending time with his son, not drinking with his buddies, and helping family members.
We had another really great conversation on the ride home last night. Neither of us is sure who we want to vote for ~ or against ~ a week from today. We both think it was about time that the Republicans nominated a female VP candidate. I was all for Ms. Sarah until the revelations about the wardrobe [more on that, later]. Trainman absolutely blew me away when he remarked, “I wish they had nominated Jeane Kirkpatrick.” Me, too! She was an amazing woman. [How does he even remember Jeane Kirkpatrick? He was in high school when she gave her speech in 1984!]
I was giving him the Readers Digest version of the whole debacle with Brother Abacus and the civil if lively exchanges on Sunday night, when he leaned sideways and murmured, “Hey, sweetie, I have a really nice bridge. Want to buy it? Come on, you know you do.” Yeah, that pretty much sums it up: all smiles and snake oil.
A big thank-you to MamaSays for letting me [us] know that MovieMom is now on belief.net.
My friend Alison posted about a friend’s child who ~ well, I’ll just let you read it. [And then this.] In our email exchanges afterward, she made this comment,
“Part of me’s sitting here thinking, well, it’s the kids who get smacked with their own mortality who turn out to be the most compassionate adults, eventually.” I have to agree with her. One of my favorite home teachers, ever, went home from his mission early to deal with testicular cancer, then went back and finished his mission honorably. And married, and fathered two children before adopting more. He was kind, straight-arrow, and fearless.
The girls and I have been through some Interesting Times [á là the Chinese curse] ourselves, and they are growing into amazing women. It’s hard to see my own progress, because I’m still in the middle of a lifelong renovation project, and some days the dust and chaos are ghastly.
Sitemeter tells me we are sneaking up on 20,000 page views. Inconceivable!
I have turned the heel on Eleanora but am somewhat distracted by this.
It was waiting at my desk when I got to work yesterday, an early birthday gift from Tan. *Bliss*. The way I explained Wollmeise to my coworkers is, “she’s the Prada of independent dyers, at least for the moment.”
So now I look at my Koigu and go pfft! It’s only Koigu. And I really really really want to finish Eleanora so I can play mit die Wollmeise.
The muffins for the Bosses Day breakfast are done. I set my alarm an hour early. I upended the second tray onto the kitchen floor. The ones that didn’t get smashed by the tray have been dusted off and set to cool with the first batch. The four that look like they had an argument with a Hummer and lost, are cooling for my breakfast.
As I said yesterday, good enough for who they’re for.
- 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!