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 28, 2009

Saturday mumblings and honey-do’s

I was looking for the link on a Mason-Dixon post, and I saw something in the sidebar that caught my eye. It’s a neat little article. Enjoy! I’ll be here when you get back.

Middlest, click on this link to M-D and scroll down to Tea Contest Winners. Second photo.

So, the foliage from the roses is now out on the compost pile. And the last half-slice of pizza is down the hatch. [I reached the point at 4:15 yesterday morning when I could not take One More Bite, and it was too good to just toss out.] The duplex, which night before last resembled nothing more than a sauna, is now properly chilly but not to the point where I’m a Momsicle and need to relight the fireplace.

The roses are still gorgeous and have not succumbed to frost, overnight. The petals from the penultimate bouquet are dessicating nicely in the big red bowl. I give them a toss whenever I think of it.

I just realized that my Christmas tree is still up in the living room. Nobody said anything last night. [I would show you pictures, but my camera is hollering at me to please replace the batteries.]

I am on the sixth round of tiny entrelac rectangles on the first sock. Then I’ll work more triangles to take everything off the bias and increase a bunch of stitches to bring the count back up to 72, a normal heel flap and the gallop down to the toe and then the second sock. Probably not all today, but you get the idea.

After LadyZen stepped off the train at Richland Hills, Trainman and I chatted amicably about one thing and another. He told me why he’d spoken to her in the first place, and I got really brave and asked him why he’d spoken to me.

It was the knitting. He had seen me knitting, and he thought it was cool and maybe a dying art. And that I would be interesting to talk to.

“You’d seen me before. Knitting.”

“Mm-hm.”

Oh.

Another answered prayer, specifically the one I send up from time to time that people [men in particular] who would not be good for me, would not even see me.

I really needed last night, to have dinner with old friends and new, to have them over here in my uncharacteristically tidy living room, to consult with them about what color to paint said living room. To talk about favorite movies. Some of them have not seen any of the Pirates movies. DecoratorDude and his partner have never seen To Wong Foo.

I need to deal with all the stuff I took off the couch and the coffee table last night, renew my tags [I can do that online] and the safety inspection on Lorelai, get my nails done [popped a nail while wiping out the sink], spend the gift card to Central Market, maybe go into BigD and retrieve my cell phone. But right now? I’m going to curl up on the couch with my knitting and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. And I think I might eat that leftover salmon pasta [to die for].

I wonder if it’s going to be warm enough to finish painting my bedroom?

3 comments:

Tan said...

Your Christmas tree has been there so long that it is now invisible.

Jenni said...

Is it a real Christmas tree or that same stupid strand of lights on the ficus that you CALL a Christmas tree?

Rorek said...

What magazine is that pattern from? I skimmed the entry, but I couldn't find it. I'd LOVE to make socks like that. X3