The house was chilly when I woke up. Not cool enough to require running the gas fireplace, but enough to give me hope that it might be a sweater-wearing day. And it was. I picked up Fourthborn and took her to the strip mall that has both a JoAnn’s and a Hancock’s so she could get cow fabric for her Halloween costume. And then she bought us lunch at Chipotle. I trusted her on the contents of my über-burrito, and I was not disappointed: steak marinated in something spicy, rice with a decided lemony flavor, and just enough sour cream and cheese to smooth off any rough edges. I ate part of it for lunch and the rest for dinner.
While she shopped, I sat in the car and knitted, just in case I am contagious. She passed on a trip to the bead store near Secondborn’s, because “bead stores are much more fun when you can say, oh look at this, what do you think I should put with it?” When I took her home, she loaned me the first three seasons of Ace of Cakes in case I found myself sitting on the couch the rest of the weekend with my knitting and my boxes of Puffs.
I made a bunch of phone calls regarding various meetings that require my presence today as I headed down to Firstborn’s to drop off Lark’s birthday present, which I had sealed up with its card in a Ziploc storage bag, with instructions that they should pop the bag into the freezer for a couple of days. As Sandberg said, “Ice is nice, and will suffice.”
From Firstborn’s I drove to the bread thrift store and picked up enough loaves for the better part of a month. And then down to Wal-Mart for milk and juices and Greek yogurt and a bag of salad. [The woman who checked me out, loved the sweater. Props to Sarah Rose Orne.]
Back home to putter for a couple of hours, until it was time to do my drive-by fooding of the elders.
I don’t know what was up on southbound Montgomery; it must have taken the better part of ten minutes to get down to the light at I-30. I called the elders and told them I was running late, and did they prefer Jack in the Box or Subway? “We like both. Surprise us.” If I had been feeling perkier, I would have gotten one of each and told them to fight it out. I ended up getting them marinara meatball subs with cheese and black olives [Brother Sushi is rolling his eyes] and oatmeal cookies for dessert. It was cooling off again outside, and they were on their bikes. Hot sandwiches were just what Dr. Mom ordered, though I didn’t get one for myself. Looked great, could almost smell them, would love to have one some other time, but meh.
The elders were most appreciative and made the male equivalent of there, there noises when they saw my poor chapped beak. One of them said, “Let us know if you want us to give you a blessing.” At which point I turned off the engine, opened the door, unbuckled myself, and pivoted my feet out of the car so they could get at my head to anoint me.
If you ever, ever have the opportunity or the need to have the elders of Israel lay hands upon your head and pronounce a blessing upon you, take it. The priesthood which these young men hold is the power and authority to act in the name of God The words which come out of their mouths, are the inspired word of God and are exactly what He would like you to hear at the time you ask Him. Last night I received comfort, the promise of healing, counsel to pace myself wisely, and acknowledgment of my efforts.
One of those blessings where, as I told them afterward, it was almost worth getting sick to hear.
Moving from the levitical to levity, here is a creative use for candy corn.
And by way of Unclutterer, here are five links to useful articles on keeping medical expenses under control.
[Well, I thought I had made all necessary calls re: meetings, etc., and I got a text at 10:25 asking if I could have one of my counselors come to the 7:30 meeting in my stead. Texted back that it was probably too late to call but that I would email them. Which I did. When I went to bed at 10:59, I was feeling significantly more human.]
- 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!