About Me

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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!

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Comforting the afflicted, and vice versa.

Everything came out all right. [Except some of the words from my mouth when I was at the chapel last night; details to follow.] Firstborn sailed through her surgery and came out talking, according to her recovery room nurse. 1BDH nipped out to pick up her prescriptions, and I stood guard. When he came back, I ran a couple of errands and went over to their house to wait. Lark and I had watched most of Penelope by the time they arrived. I had seen a preview on one of the DVD’s I bought recently.

I am leaving soon to make sure she doesn’t overdo it today. She is on all kinds of meds, some of which tend to make one feel bulletproof. I will be there to catch the bullets with my teeth, if necessary.

I started her socks yesterday afternoon. Multiple times. But the toe increases are galloping along, and I am reasonably pleased with the yarn. I am knitting the Tofootsies on 00 DP’s. I may or may not switch over to my circs to finish the job. For myself I prefer a fatter, sproingier yarn, but for her first pair of handknit socks this may prove an excellent choice.

I had one of those situations last night that makes RS presidents want to tear out their hair. A sister who at the moment has no fixed residence and wanted a food order from the Bishop’s Storehouse. Yesterday. Or preferably the day before. She is temporarily living with a parent in another ward. She was not happy with me when I told her [upon instructions from our bishop] that his hands were tied, and that she needed to contact the bishop in the ward where she now resides. I am new at this. I was perhaps less than graceful in telling her. But she was sitting two chairs away from me in the hall outside the bishop’s office when I told one of his counselors about my daughter’s surgery and about the children’s father’s situation and my eyes started leaking.

She did not get snarky with me. She was actually quite civil. She also made it abundantly clear that she was not going to contact the other bishop, the one who could help her.

Oye. To the veh.

And tonight I am making a visit to another sister, during which I will probably have to tell her in my newly-acquired Relief Societese to put on her big-girl panties and just deal. I remarked to Heaven this morning, or possibly just to the ceiling, that I was beginning to understand why the Savior occasionally got on a boat and headed for the other side of the lake. [And I’ve only been doing this for two and a half months. The one thing that is certain, is that by the time I can do this calling well, I will be released and called to serve in another growth opportunity.]

I’m OK, really. I will be fine once my kid is not walking around holding a pillow to her tummy and I have eaten my weight in chocolate. I got a head start last night. As well as almost a full seven hours of sleep.

More progress on the sock since I got here to Firstborn’s. Still increasing. And increasing. And increasing. But I think we are almost to the point where I can try it on her dainty little foot. I am so glad that she has small feet; she’s the only one in this tribe who does.

I’m off to do my impression of a good mommy. Wish me luck!

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