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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, April 18, 2009

What I did, instead.

More rain yesterday. Buckets and buckets of rain, what we in Texas call a frog-strangler. I sat on the couch and finished knitting BittyBit’s sweater.

And then I changed into my grubbies and shoved things around in my bedroom. Some of them even got hung up in the closet, put in the back seat of Lorelai to be given away, or mercifully euthanized [the black chenille sweater which had seen better days]. I found a box labeled “dining room” that was full of crumpled newspaper. Why it hadn’t made the trek out to the recycling bin long before this, is a mystery.

I frogged the back of the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and that yarn is taking a little siesta until it’s ready for another attempt, in which it will alternate rows with the new yarn [bought from another Raveler], which is allegedly in the same colorway. I’m wondering what that purl-bump turning ridge is going to look like, with half of the bumps in one yarn and the other half in the second. Oh well, if that doesn’t make it look on-purpose, nothing will. Though I am sortof thinking about doing a provisional cast-on and working the facings in a contrasting color.

Movie Mom recommended a film that went straight to video. I checked it out from the library, and I liked it. I Could Never Be Your Woman. Stupid title, some language but no F-bombs, cute clothes. [Well, not on her ex-husband.] I watched it while frogging. And frogging. And frogging some more.

I also checked out The Lady Eve and a compilation of four Mae West movies.

I surgically removed a bunch of dead leeks from the crisper and flung them unceremoniously onto the compost pile, along with half a bag of sprouted potatoes. And emptied the shredder. And sorted through a pile of paper that has crept in since the last time the Good Housekeeping Fairy smacked me with her wand. And put the umbrella swift and the ball winder back in my studio. All the little piddly things that contribute to chaos or order. I wish this stuff could magically take care of itself, or that I could wiggle my nose like Samantha or warble bibbity-bobbity-boo and be done with it. But there’s no doubt in my mind that puttering plays an important role in my growth as a human being; it’s all a matter of balance and stewardship.

There is also no doubt in my mind that I have been procrastinating some much-needed puttering in the kitchen. I put some food-storage items into use yesterday, and I need to tweak the cupboards, and there is the inevitable washing-up, which I have been [ahem] eviting.

Who knows? I might even get the batteries into the remote I bought last weekend, and the DVD/VHS player hooked up and the old gadgets donated. And the last three walls in my bedroom painted, or at least the two which flank the bed. Painted walls = possibly rotating the bed 45° into the corner, and attaching the headboard, and slipping the ficus into the space behind the bed [which means more room in the hall, because I wouldn’t have to move the tree to walk into the studio] and getting the dust ruffle out of a box and into place, and maybe even rotating the mattress.

After all that, world peace would be a snap, right?

BestFriend is coming over later this morning. Can’t wait to see her!

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