About Me

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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!

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Film, Either Later or Earlier than 11:00

A good, verging-on-great, day at work yesterday. I was wildly productive, and I enjoyed what I did.

As noted, some knitting progress on the January Mystery Socks before leaving the house yesterday morning. I worked a row on the Clapotis en Soie while on the train, sitting next to Trainman’s and my mutual friend [for whom we now have a name: more on that, further down the post], but the yarn was slippery, and I was not in the mood to yarn-wrangle. So I grabbed the Noro Kureyon Sock and cast on 72 stitches [18 on each of four DP’s] and got to work on the K4P2 ribbing.

I worked on the January Mystery Socks on my breaks and at lunch and am about 75% done with them. I think another inch, and then I’ll be ready to start the toe decreases. Need to try them on again and measure how much bare toe is sticking out, and then re-read the instructions. I love the fabric that the 000 needle gives on the sole of the foot; the heel, which I thought was going to be waaaay too pointy, is a little quirky looking but fits well, so I am pleased.

At the end of the ride, and another great visit, we said goodnight to our friend and wished her a great weekend. Then I grinned at Trainman and asked him, “What’s the plan, Stan?”

“Chicken fried steak? Massey’s?”

Oh, yeah.

We each had the double steak dinner, with mashed potatoes, and while we were tempted to have some of their luscious pie, neither of us had any room at the inn. Trainman cleaned his plate; I have half of my dinner in the fridge for another meal.

Oh, the sheer joy of having male friends before whom I do not have to be dainty! I can eat my fill, which these days is usually half or less of what the server brings me. None of this “Gee, I’m not very hungry, I’ll just have a small salad” nonsense.

We are planning an outing for next Friday night: Trainman, our mutual friend, DecoratorDude and his partner, and Brother Sushi if he is free. Lobster bisque at Lucile’s; it’s payday, and that can be my splurge for that paycheck. Maybe I will bake a chocolate pecan tart and we can all come back here for dessert.

Trainman and I spent most of dinner brainstorming a name for our friend. She is tall and elegant, reminiscent of Lena Horne or Grace Kelly, witty, kind, with a wide range of interests, including racing motorbikes. We finally came up with LadyZen, in part because she is so serene, and in part because of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

We did not get to the home store last night, but he did have paint chips. He is leaning toward blues, so he is on his own in that department, though LadyZen gave him a couple of suggestions.

He would like to meet Brother Sushi and tried to guess his screen name. I just kept telling him no, no, and no, punctuated with intermittent snickers or outright giggles. He thinks he would like Firstborn, and I told him probably so, but that I wasn’t sure he should meet 1BDH, who when he found out I had a male friend I could have given birth to, started with the Mary Kay Letourneau jokes and once told me I could date a fresh-out-of-the-Missionary-Training-Center elder standing in their living room, because he was young enough to raise up the way I like them.

We also did not get over to Trainman’s place to look at walls and faux finish possibilities. He said he needed to clean the place up a bit, first. I told him I got that, that my place was clean enough for long-term friends to come over, but not clean enough for new friends. [LadyZen, when asked what her plans were for the weekend, said that she would probably spend part of it cleaning house. I told her I thought she should lie down until the urge passed. She said she probably would.]

So, nice dinner, good food, great company, and plans for a group outing next Friday. One nice chaste hug outside the restaurant, a bit more talk, an exchange of phone numbers, and then another hug.

“Goodnight, Ms. Letourneau.”

What’s on the agenda today? All sorts of possibilities. I’ve worked the post-ribbing decreases on the first entrelac sock and made notations on Ravelry. I need to eat something for breakfast. I need to figure out what I’m taking to the dessert potluck and talent show in Firstborn’s ward tonight. I need to remember to grab the cashmere cowl for Brother Sushi, because he will probably be at the ward activity rather than the dance tonight. I need to clean up the kitchen and would like to empty another box or two. I need to sort through the mail that has come in this week, which is tossed in one corner of the couch. I still need to do laundry. My haircut looks great, but my hampers? Not so much.

In about an hour and a half, I will be calling that bright shiny new phone number and getting directions to Trainman’s house. If we get his bathroom painted, he may be coming with me to the potluck and talent show tonight...

2 comments:

Sherry said...

Can't wait to hear how the painting expedition went. And remind your son-in-law that Ms. Letourneau (I'm sure I spelled that wrong) was interested in teenage boys, not grown-ups. There's nothing wrong with younger, definitely something wrong with having an affair with a child....

Jenni said...

My husband just looks for any possible window of opportunity to give you a hard time. It is what he lives for. That and making random fire sign (or side or something like that) theatre references which you two think are funny and leave me going "huh?"