More pictures from Saturday. This is one view from the gazebo where we ate our lunch.
A neat little red pier-and-beam house.
Somebody’s trading post.
I remarked to LadyZen that we’d found our Christmas trees for later this year.
A magnificent redbud tree. I just held my breath and snapped and hoped for the best.
Last Sunday [a week ago] as I drove to church, I thought about the week that had preceded it: the hopes, the fears, the joys, the disappointments, the gratitude, and I told Him that I didn’t think I was bringing that much to offer Him at sacrament meeting that day, that the best I could do was to give him my uncertainty and my vulnerability. It seems that might have been enough.
On Saturday night while I was sitting in the room with Trainman between tests, there was a lot of peaceful, companionable silence. And some honest communication. He told me why he likes me; he likes the same things about me that I value in myself. [It is nice to get that confirmed.]
I know I said last week that the three sweetest words in the English language are “you were right”. I heard three ones I like even better: “I trust you”. And I told him how much it meant to me that he had initiated the friendship. He does not understand why the guys my age in the singles’ program cannot see who I am, when he sees me so clearly. [Yeah, I don’t get that either, but I comfort myself in the fact that his friendship, and Brother Sushi’s, and Brother Karitas’, are answers to prayers, and that the guys who don’t see me, don’t see me because of those same prayers. Doesn’t mean that it’s not crazy-making from time to time, but it also confirms to me that Heaven really is in charge of my life when I don’t get in the way.]
As I drove him home, I commented, “Holy cow, we just had the dreaded define the relationship talk.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“And we’re still friends.”
“Yeah, we are.” I could hear him grinning, over in the passenger seat.
“And nobody’s bleeding. Cool!”
I called Trainman after church to see how he was doing, and he said he was feeling like himself again and no, he didn’t need anything. He was puttering around, doing little things that needed doing, and he would see me after work today.
More answered prayers. Because while he was sitting there with the IV in his arm on Saturday night, I was trying to figure out when I’d have to get up to get him to the station at his usual time this morning, if he was not cleared to drive. I take that “brother’s keeper” stuff pretty seriously, and one of the key players in his office will be out for the next couple of days, so Trainman has to be there.
[This reminds me of something I told my girls years ago, when one of the parental units of one of their friends was forevermore letting those friends (and others who depended upon that person to show up and do something) down because s/he “didn’t feel well”: most of the work that gets done in this world, gets done by people who “don’t feel well” but who show up anyway.]
I took one small load of laundry over to Secondborn’s and washed it while enjoying scrambled eggs with them and the Bitties. [If my clothes mysteriously fell into their washer and then into their dryer and then into the laundry bag, that’s not breaking the Sabbath, right?] Secondborn’s tummy is looking mighty cute.
BittyBit is learning about dressing modestly. [The lessons about pointing and tact are also on the list. *snort*] She has decided that yes, she would like a sweater to go over one of her dresses that is sleeveless, which Secondborn wasn’t crazy about buying in the first place, but it was the most-modest one available.
BittyBit also wasn’t keen on my borrowing her favorite dress until Saturday, to take it to the yarn store for matching purposes. So we measured it, and we measured her, and then I came home and did some searching on Ravelry for a child’s bolero or shrug. I didn’t find anything that screamed knit me, so I will probably just invent something, or severely modify one of those patterns I saw. Once I have the yarn, I will drop all other projects for a few days so I can crank out a wee sweater/shrug/bolero for her.
In knitting news, I managed two or three rows on the Clapotis en Soie while at church. And I put several more rounds on the March Sockdown! sock while watching You’ve Got Mail and getting all verklempt. And a few more after I got home from Secondborn’s.
- 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!