- 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!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
It’s always the last place you look.
Please excuse the mess. I was standing in the bathroom, washing my hands, and I turned to look into my studio, when my gaze dropped. There it was! It is now plugged into my sewing machine. I also need a heavy-duty extension cord, because the plug for my machine has three prongs, while the outlet only has two. The power cord is about a foot too short to reach the grounded outlet, and while I am ecstatic at having [most of] what I need to make the boys’ Christmas stockings, I am not enthusiastic enough to rearrange the furniture again. Especially after spending the better part of an hour rummaging through boxes for the footfeed, only to discover that I should have been thinking outside the box. Literally.
I came home last night, finished my eggnog milkshake, and took a three hour nap. Which meant that I was uncharacteristically awake when NintendoMan called, and able to converse somewhat intelligently with him. May I just state for the record how much I like smart men. We talked a little about politics and seem to be somewhat on the same page. He likes a lot of the same talk radio hosts that the children’s father did, but if that’s the most annoying thing about him [so far], I can at least rejoice in the fact that his hearing is way better than that of the children’s father, and [hypothetically] I would have a chance of finding some place in the house where I could escape the voices. I sometimes think that talk radio was as much a means of shutting out the opinions and needs of the female part of the family as it was about becoming aware of stupidities all along the political spectrum. I may be oversensitive on that topic.
The luncheon at work yesterday was delicious, as usual. I partook of it sensibly and was both alert and productive for my last hour of work. It was nice to leave the office at 2:00, pick up a Christmas present that was being held for me [something that one of my co-workers gave the managing attorney for Secret Santa; I called the shop where she found it, about 15 seconds after getting back to my desk], take Jessica/Honor/Grace/Eve? to Fourthborn at work, so she can play with her and put measurements into the spreadsheet, grab the aforementioned milkshake, and come on home.
It’s after midnight. I might be ready to go back to bed for awhile. Or I may unpack one last box before hitting the sack. I think there will be some serious shredding later today, and maybe a few more pictures hung up here or there. I have another drive-by-fooding of the missionaries tonight.
It’s a very good thing that I am used to being on my own, entertaining myself, and just generally staying out of trouble. It is good to be able to say, when NintendoMan asks how my day went, that I accomplished this or that, that I like what I do, and to feel that I bring more than a pair of warm lips to the equation. I am also glad that I started sorting through stuff and finding new homes for things I no longer need, before Heaven decided to [sweetly] complicate my life with this new development. I would hate to be the same shy, clingy person I was when I first married the children’s father. I feel as if, with each box emptied and its contents allocated, I am also setting my emotional house in greater order, making room for new possibilities.
It’s a good place to be.