But in exchange for our ridiculously hot summers [if I wanted temperatures worthy of Death Valley (96°F there at 7:49pm, 117°F for the high; 100°F here at 7:40pm, 104°F for the high; 98°F in Dallas at 7:52pm, 103°F for the high ~ I rest my case!), I would be living in Death Valley], we have bluebonnets in the spring, chicken fried steak, and some of the nicest folks you would ever want to meet.
Right now they’re some of the hottest, sweatiest people you would ever want to meet, present company included, though I cooled down quickly after getting home last night. I have temporarily given up walking from the office building to the train station; I snag a bus and count myself blessed. Once the mercury dips to the low 90’s and stays there, I’ll resume my good habit. I do love to walk, and four blocks is just long enough to help me begin making the switch from work-life to home-life or church-life.
I have 7” worked on the back of Autumn Asters; I am 2” from the beginning of the armscye. At the moment, my yarn is not arguing with me. At the moment, the stitches flow sweetly, one after another, and my biggest problem is making myself stop knitting long enough to bathe and eat. It’s a nice problem to have, except maybe unless you have to be within six feet of me!
Don’t worry; I have a tub drawn, and I will hop in as soon as I publish this post. I am heading over to the temple for the wedding of one of my friends. When I get back to Fort Worth, I will wrap their present for the reception tonight, and I will head over to the nursing home [again] to pick up the books I forgot to pick up on Thursday, and to pay the fine on my card. I cannot believe that after eleven years of being divorced, I have incurred a late fee for books that he is reading. [Not his fault in the slightest; he let Firstborn know on Wednesday that the books needed to go back.] But still. I think this batch I delivered on Thursday may well be the last one; I know that I am my brother’s keeper. I get that. And I know that he is still my brother, if no longer my sweetheart. But I think that all I owe him at this point is civility, and gratitude for the children we brought into the world. I do not think that I need to be taking a rotation in getting him books from the library.
Girls, that thunk you just heard was me, laying the foundation for a boundary.
I think it’s going to be an interesting day. I believe in marriage, particularly in marriage for the eternities, though some of you may find that ironic in the extreme. And I am happy to support my friend, who has had far worse luck with men than I have had; her last husband was definitely a keeper, but he died instantly in a head-on collision about ten years ago. Nevertheless, weddings make me un peu triste.
It’s not about me. It’s not about me. It’s not about me. Repeat as necessary.