About Me

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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!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

The Steam Train, and the Mantis

There are two trains which run between Palestine and Rusk. One is diesel; that’s the one we rode on Saturday. The other is a steam train. The trains pass each other once on the outbound trip and again on the return trip. The round-trip ticket for the diesel train is $3 less than the other ticket, which is the first reason we chose it; I also think it’s cooler to be sitting on a diesel train and meet up with the steam train, than it would be to sit on the steam train and see [just one more] diesel train.

I highly recommend this trip if you can easily get to East Texas. Sit as far from the engine as you can manage, particularly on the return trip, unless you like to hear small children cry. Or take the Costco family-size package of earplugs and practice your lip-reading.

Trainman’s father and mine both worked for Union Pacific, though decades apart. Dad learned to count the number of cars on a moving train, first one at a time, then three at a time, then five at a time.

When I am counting stitches in my knitting, I count them in groups of three. I know my 3’s extraordinarily well. Must be hereditary.

Ah, the sight of a man in uniform...

LadyZen or Trainman snapped this on the return trip, while I was standing in line for the loo.

Sunday night or Monday morning, I dreamed that I was still married to the children’s father, and we were still in the old house in Irving. I was tackling a mound of dirty dishes, and there was a ginormous bright green praying mantis at the kitchen sink; must have been six or eight inches long. I spent a good part of that dream trying to catch the mantis; I don’t remember why. And I didn’t catch the symbolism [or the most obvious part of it] until I was editing yesterday’s post. I think Freud and/or Jung would have a field day with that dream.

[I wonder if I need to check up on the children’s father?]

This is the best picture I have of the three of us from Saturday.

Yes, I am wearing my don’t you wish your girlfriend could knit like me? T-shirt. Wouldn’t you?

In knitting news, I am roughly two-thirds done with the heel gusset on the first sock. Loving the yarn of course, and loving the pattern. I spent far too long sitting on the couch this morning with my thoughts and my knitting. Now I need to scoot.

No Knit Night for me, tonight; I am the auctioneer for the service auction at Relief Society. One of those weeks when I wish there were two Tuesdays. Not sure at this point if I will catch the train [barely] or drive in and bring home my new VCR/DVD player. Yes, my anniversary gift is here!


Rorek said...

You're such a tease you know. Keep everyone guessing about the mysterious Trainman, post the photo where you can maybe make out half his face. :] I love you, you big goof. And, now that I can see him quite clearly, he does look more grown up. LOL.

Tan said...

That looks like so much fun! Who knew you could make friends riding to work?