Outside the kitchen window of my folks’ house was a huge forsythia bush. Outside the kitchen window of my basement apartment in Provo, was another huge forsythia bush. I used to stand at the sink when I was pregnant with Firstborn, washing up dish after dish and looking out at the fog-blackened stems, the tender green leaves, and the heartbreakingly beautiful blossoms.
I had to make a quick run through Michael’s yesterday, to pick up an inexpensive frame for the Relief Society “flag” that I made. And I saw these.
They were half price, and they followed me home, and I’m keeping them. I also finished the first entrelac sock.
The second one is cast on, and I would have made more progress before bedtime had I not been watching You’ve Got Mail, which I picked up at Half Price Books with several other DVD’s. Probably my favorite Meg Ryan movie, before I got mad at her for dumping Dennis Quaid. [I stopped liking Harrison Ford about the same time, after his own bout of middle-aged-crazy.]
I had so much fun with Middlest and Fourthborn and one of their friends, and all the dolls, yesterday. The park was cold and wet, so we went to the Cheesecake Factory. My salad was just about perfect; I tried the plum vinaigrette this time and really liked it. My soup was so-so. I don’t know if that was because the vinaigrette was so memorable, or if the soup was intrinsically bland. And pink[ish]. Chicken soup, especially a cream soup, should not be pink. Or ish.
Our waiter was charming. Maybe a little older than Lark; probably not as old as Willow.
Did not sleep well last night. Woke up about when the alarm would have awakened me ~ I don’t set it on Sunday mornings ~ because I realized that I had my head tilted too far back, and the CPAP wasn’t nagging me. Which meant that I dozed off three or four times [that I noticed] during sacrament meeting. I handed my tithing envelope to the bishop and told him I was coming home to take a nap, and why.
Made myself a turkey sandwich and had a bit of dessert, in case it was blood sugar and not oxygen deprivation that was making me groggy. And now I am heading back to bed, to sleep, perchance to breathe...
Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody. See you in the morning.
- Five 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!