Morningside is galloping along after what, seven tries? I have no idea why it was so difficult to get going properly, and I’m glad that I persisted until I got it right. You cannot tell that the bottom edge has been cast on and frogged and cast on and frogged so many times. This is very very very good yarn, and I may need to purchase another skein next month and knit the girly version for myself.
I ended up driving in yesterday, and by the time I got there I was already a bit cranky from having sat on the couch with my knitting so for long that there was no earthly way I could have caught my train. I looked at the week ahead of me. Tonight is my only night home, and the laundry is threatening to eat my hall, and my hair was a wreck, and the stray eyebrows on my chin were driving me nuts!
So I took PT and left an hour and a half early, and I got my hair cut, and that small bit of pampering was just what the doctor ordered. I feel like myself again, only less shaggy. And when I got home from Knit Night I got out the sugar wax kit and did something about my face.
We have a bit of family drama going on; I’ll spare you the details, since I am far from knowing all of the facts. There was a voicemail waiting for me when I got home. Suffice it to say that I had planned to stay up another hour with my knitting and an audiobook, but when I looked at the round just completed I could feel that it was alittlemoretight than the rounds which immediately preceded it. So I stopped. There is nothing sadder than angry knitting.
Morningside is about 85% complete. And since I woke nearly two hours ahead of my alarm, there is a good chance that I will finish it sometime today.
Wish you could have been there for Knit Night. Middlest and I were more than a little giddy. When I took her home afterward, we were both almost-relaxed. I would like to take the day off and go get a massage, but there is the small matter of it not being in the budget for at least another week [there is a massage therapy school just blocks from the last two apartments, and student massages are eminently affordable].
I had what might have been a valid insight yesterday morning, on the drive in. I get a little cranky with myself when the morning gets away from me and I need to drive. The extra gas, the cash for parking downtown, the traffic, etc. And the way it interferes with visiting on the train at the end of the day. [I am not just talking about the Trainman; there are several other faces I look forward to seeing.]
I am wondering if my subconscious is periodically wrecking my morning schedule, so that I maintain the same relative space in my friendship with Trainman? Dinner with him and our mutual friend last Friday night was so lovely and relaxing. The hug at the end of the day was chaste and comforting. He is such a nice man, and the friendship is so pleasant, that it requires great self-discipline not to want more than I think there can ever be, and not to miss him excessively when he is off living that part of his life that is not tangent to mine.
This friendship is so unlikely that only Heaven could have come up with it. Another healthy relationship with an adult male, based on mutual interests, mutual respect, and much laughter. It amazes [and frequently delights] me that this vibrant man chooses to spend time with me.
I contrast this with the behavior of most of the brethren in the singles’ program at church, while remembering that I have prayed in the past to be more or less invisible to men who would not be good for me. Let the record show that I am not complaining, just observing.
Ah, knitting. Something which is relatively easy to comprehend, multiple beginnings of Morningside notwithstanding. I think I will throw my lunch together and knit for fifteen minutes with the timer on. At this point I do not know if Middlest and LittleBit will be over tonight, but I am driving to the station by the pizza place, just in case.
I will be on the train today. I will.
- 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!