... you might want to head on over to the next blog. It is not yet 6:30, the tub is filling, and I am ready for the weekend.
My new VT companion and I went out visiting for the first time last night. New sister in the ward, married, two sweet little kids. Upstairs. Possibly the longest flight of stairs I have climbed in a decade, but well worth the climb. The kids were shy at first; she’s 3, he will be 2 in a couple of months. When she was ready, she walked up to me, wrapped her arms around me, and laid her head against my chest. He followed suit before the end of the visit. Those kids are so smart! They figured out that I am a hugging-grandma and that my companion is a playing-aunt. She’s the one who ended up with all the toys in her lap. We were both very happy with that arrangement.
Afterward, I took my companion home, and I threw the laundry into the back seat of Lorelai. On the way home, I stopped for a late dinner of party tacos and strawberry smoothie, then went to bed. I left the folding and putting-away for this morning.
And of course, this morning I realized that my very clean new bras were still very damp, because they had spent the night in the hamper underneath my linen tunic, which also doesn’t go into the dryer. All are now hanging from the shower rod. Thankfully, I had not yet thrown out the painting bra [the one with the dead underwire, the one that I wear when I’m washing the good ones], and thankfully today is the day that we wear our black T-shirts to work in a display of Customer Service Initiative solidarity. So any discrepancies in the workings of gravity upon this middle-aged body will be somewhat camouflaged.
That’s it, guys. I have just spent the past hour doing the folding and stowing that I was too pooped to do last night, and the tub is full, and I have about a ten minute window if I want to make the train from T&P Station. I will be sitting at switchboard all day. So I am already looking forward to 5:00 and the train ride home and the postponed dinner tonight with Brother Sushi.
There are plenty of things I am thankful for, but at the moment my brain doesn’t want to talk to my hands. I sure hope this changes by the time I pull my knitting out of my bag!
- 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!