Saw several friends whom I’d not seen in months and months and months. Did the Solomon-and-the-baby thing with maybe 200 packages of conjoined cinnamon rolls. I am not going to want cinnamon rolls for some time to come, maybe as long as it had been since I saw my friends. And one sister in our ward who rode over to the stake center with me, expressed the same opinion regarding little cake donuts smothered in powdered sugar.
We also put about a bajillion cookies into Ziploc sandwich bags two at a time, like the ark, and filled gallon bags with the smaller bags, sealing them up and writing how many smaller bags were inside. We had people cutting up watermelon, and people stirring vats of queso, and people heating hot dogs and putting them into buns and swaddling them in yellow hot dog wrapping paper.
One of the sisters commented that people were still grazing out in the cultural hall [gym, for you non-LDS types]. I looked up from my cookie-bagging and told her that flirting was hungry work.
I picked up the Chinese food in the late afternoon. We got enough food for 300 flirters and flirtees neatly stacked into Lorelai. My car still smells like orange chicken; mmm! I dropped off the food and went over to Secondborn’s to take them a gallon of milk that was handed me out in the parking lot and to pick up my laundry. She sent me home with leftover spaghetti, some salad, a baggie of brownies, and the last of the dinner rolls. Their ward has been bringing dinner over every night since Bittiest was born.
I worked the heel flap for his first sock. Not entirely happy with my yarn choice. The gauge is just a tad off, and the yarn is noticeably slicker. There is definitely not enough of the main yarn to make two whole socks. Sigh; maybe I should forget socks and just whip up a pair of booties? Maybe I should head over to Ravelry and see what I can find?
Fourthborn, I stand corrected. Nikolai is a Glati. But SOOM is at least half a bubble off level, calling the boy Glati and the girl Glot. Enough doll talk. Time to reset my brainpan to Heaven Central Time and hie me to church.
- 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!