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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!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

“All Is Well in Zion”

I promised all y’all a translation, or an explanation of why this phrase is so funny to some Latter-Day Saints and makes others exceedingly nervous. Here is the scriptural reference. I rarely use the phrase without a generous dash of irony. In a sense, it relates back to that article I referred to a few days ago [or maybe only think I did] about living inside one’s dreams vs. living in the real world. For many active Latter-Day Saints, a sincere profession that all is well in Zion, is an invitation for lightning to strike, or the other shoe to drop.

[But before I do, and before I forget. @ Francis: I tried to go to Fred’s on Friday night, before I ended up at Lucile’s. Found it easily, and the parking lot was crammed, and I was in no mood to deal with crowds. I’m taking a week of stay-cation in June, and I’ll get over there for lunch midweek and report back to you.]

And this is why it applied to the conversation with Trainman last Monday. Even though I was mostly-OK with his decision to sit elsewhere, there was that niggling concern that maybe he was choosing to back off on the friendship because I have suddenly acquired a demanding new calling which will place major restrictions on the amount of time I can spend in company with him and LadyZen. Granted, it didn’t seem consistent with what I had experienced of his personality and character, but it was a minuscule burr on the border of my saddle blanket. [And we know who plants those burrs: the Father of Lies.]

So it was a relief to talk to Trainman last week and clear the air a little. The reason he hadn’t sat with me was because another acquaintance had grabbed the seat next to me, and the only seat conveniently nearby was one that ran parallel to the side of the car. He knew that those seats are more uncomfortable than most.

I told him that I had been a little ticked for about 3.5 seconds, to which he replied with a grin, “Oh, yeah. I knew that.” And I grinned back sheepishly and said, “You know me well.”

And yay! I was not mistaken about his character.

On to other topics. Neat, weird stuff is happening at church. I sat in the chapel before sacrament meeting and could name most of the sisters as they came in and took a seat. One of the sisters I wrote last week, was there; no idea if it was coincidental or in response; let’s just call it fortuitous and see what happens next week.

I reached the underarm on the right sleeve of the Sunrise Circle Jacket during Sunday School today. I am only 103 [!!!] rows from the fold for the facing, and then I can block the pieces and sew them together. I picked up a skein of 50/50 silk and wool, tightly spun and plied like DMC Tapestry Wool but finer in grist. [The pattern specifies DMC Tapestry Wool; it is unavailable locally.] Gorgeous stuff; almost it persuadeth me to make a lumbar pillow for the couch.

I also saw a hand-painted needlepoint canvas that is calling my name. I brought home the specifications so they can order another if this one is gone when I have the money saved. Some things just insist that they need to come home with me. I told the pillow, “Yes dear, but not yet.”

I bought two black resin planters at Costco when I was there with Firstborn yesterday. I need to drill holes in the bottom of them, fill them with gravel and potting soil, and plant something. Obviously not today. Today, I am just trying to stay awake until 4:00 so I can call one of the sisters at church and pick her brain about something. And then at 6:00 I will finish up our visiting teaching for the month.

I am also thinking of making a stealth visit to a sister who just moved into the ward. Toward that end, I am making cookies to take along. @ Firstborn: if you want me to bake you cookies, move into my ward! That may be your only option for awhile.

Note to self: two cheese sticks and a banana are insufficient fuel for four and a half hours of meetings. But half a small package of whole-wheat tortellini makes a nice lunch, especially if there are cookies and milk for dessert!

Oh! Oh! Oh! The dance last night was actually a lot of fun. There were only eight [8] men in attendance, so I mostly danced in a circle with my sisters, but the DJ knew his stuff. [Not Brother Sushi, who was DJing his niece’s wedding reception, nor the pro who DJed the dances at the conference last month, nor the guy who sulks when he is not the DJ. Somebody else, with a good playlist, except he did not have Ray Charles’s “Let Me Take Over”.]

Did you know that you can dance a respectable East Coast Swing to Ray Charles’s “You are My Sunshine”??? I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed under my own steam this morning, but I felt terrific, and there was no whoosh in my head when I lay down last night. Maybe two hours of dancing raised my BP enough that it showed up on my radar?

Knitting. That’s what we do around here. Gonna go knit, and maybe watch Stranger than Fiction again. Did you notice how Ana’s home is decorated? Lots of warm reds and golds; that’s probably why I noticed that needlepoint canvas yesterday.

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