So, I woke up about 4:40 on Wednesday and was doing fine until around 9:00. Then my body decided we did not want to transcribe dictation anymore. We wanted to take a nap with our nose in the keyboard. To prevent having QWERTY reverse-embossed across my face, I ambled downstairs to the deli and brought back a bottle of Cherry Coke. They were, sadly, all out of IV tubes.
This is what I saw when I stepped out of the elevator on the parking level at work, yesterday afternoon. Two cars: Lorelai (with all my stuff stacked up on her trunk) and the Lone Ranger’s current incarnation of Hi-Ho-Silver.
This is what I saw from the front door about 5:00 last night.
Snow was flying up, down, and six kinds of sideways. And it was colder than a bill collector’s heart out there. But heart-stoppingly beautiful.
Also beautiful? My friend Francis’s post. Me too, my friend, me too. I believe because of the clear testimony of Christ the Lord which is borne between the covers of The Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Christ. How many books do you know, which come with their own promise [Moroni 4:10] that if you read with pure and sincere intent, and pray to know if the contents are true, you will receive your own witness?
It is officially Christmas morning, and I just put the last stitch into the BittyBoys’ stockings. I need to wrap LittleBit’s birthday present so I can take it along for her to open tomorrow. This is my last day to be the mother of a teenager. (What is the sound of one mind, boggled?)
I need to fix something for breakfast. I also need to decide if I am going sweet or savory with the glazed carrots for today’s tribal feast.
As I was climbing into bed last night, my foot nudged a plastic bag containing burgundy cashmere-blend yarn. This is the yarn which was entwined with the Noro Kureopatera that I separated out to make that cropped sweater last year. BittyBit may get a red scarf for her birthday, after all.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
- 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!