Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love, and got married. The ceremony wasn’t much, but the reception was superb.
An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either.
2. Mailers from grocery stores, advertising specials on food that is now past its freshness date, and the usual assortment of expired coupons.
3. Catalogues for things I actually need, as well as for those I do not.
4. My marble rolling pin [now returned to the kitchen], from when I made that tart several weeks ago.
5. The letter with the temporary password that I needed to set up access to my revamped 401K management program.
6. A plea to make a donation to the Alzheimer’s Association. I said, “forget about it.”
7. A 2008 Civil Liberties Survey from the ACLU. No idea when it was postmarked. I read their questionnaire. They *so* would not want to hear from me!
8. A magazine to which I did not subscribe.
9. Two boxes of facial tissue, from when I was sniffly last weekend. Both now stowed in the bathroom.
10. My roll of paper towels, brought out from the kitchen when I fed somebody or other and [now] returned.
11. Small empty boxes that I brought home from work, in order to mail out birthday gifts.
12. My book of remembrance, paperwork to submit my uncle’s temple work, my graduation certificate from the family history class, and my class notebook.
13. The fall issue of KnitSimple, with the two cropped cardigans that I like.
14. A dry-cleaning coupon from a non-chain shop, with no expiration date.
15. My package of red envelopes.
16. The goodie bag I brought home from the support staff retreat in September.
17. A book I was going to sell at Half Price Books but have decided to re-read, first.
18. An offer for $1,500 of free accidental death and dismemberment insurance which my credit union has paid for. Dropped it in the mail on my way home from choir practice, but no, I am not taking them up on their offer for up to $100,000 more on my own dime.
19. My lambswool duster, which traveled all over the living room on Saturday.
20. One copy of the paperwork for Middlest’s separation agreement.
21. A tithing envelope, just waiting for me to be obedient.
22. The recipe for creamy corn crockpot risotto, for which I thought I had all the ingredients.
23. Paperwork from my church calling.
24. Deposit slips for my credit union.
25. Unused napkins from the last time I had company over for dinner.
26. The proof of insurance forms that I thought were already in my glove compartment and planner. Oops! They are now.
Here is a beauty shot of the newly tidied coffee table. As you can see, I still have not taped and bedded the corners. But I pulled two small sheepskins out of a box and put them to use on my rocking chair. My sister needlepointed the frog pillow for me when we were both much, much younger. She also gave me the kit for the sampler you see perched atop my fireplace.
And the festive sofa table.
Next project? My computer desk!
One of many cool things about Ravelry is that it enables me to answer questions about a finished object. Middlest texted to ask if the socks I made for her were machine washable. I logged in, went to my Projects folder, and scrolled down until I recognized the socks. Then I clicked on the link to the yarn. 75% superwash wool. So yes, technically machine washable, but I have never actually machine-washed any of my superwash projects. She decided that she would feel better washing them by hand; it was cold enough yesterday that she wore them to church. Woohoo! Holy socks!
Choir practice went well last night. We did not use my zills, but I brought them. I will need to pick up fresh elastic after work tonight, as the elastic on the brass zills is stretched out, and the elastic thread on the silver ones [sadly in need of polishing] is rotted and broken. I brought home the sheet music so I can practice the timing, and next week I get to teach another sister in the choir how to play the second pair. I think there will be much communing with my Loreena McKennitt CD that has such lovely Middle Eastern overtones, so that I do not look like an utter fool when I demonstrate the technique next week.
I don’t mind being an utter fool [most often in the cause of love]; I just don’t want to look like one.
So BestFriend had time and space to post her own “8 Things” response, and she mentioned a new restaurant that has opened here in Fort Worth. Grace. I googled it and lucked into a blog by a local writer, Francis Shivone. I have added him to my Bloglines.
When I went to bed last night, I was about halfway through the gusset increases on the second Koigu sock. Such fun to pull the sock out of my bag while the menfolk were rehearsing their number and knit quietly and listen to those lovely, rumbly notes.