Yes, I am. Plan A was to come home and do laundry last night. It was quickly replaced by Plan B, which was to come home and make a blouse for Jessica (to be renamed when I can rub two brain cells together).
I picked up Fourthborn and Fiancé when they got home from work, but we skipped the formal box-opening photos. I need to take some measurements for Fourthborn; she wants to make a blouse or tunic for Jessica from a handkerchief or bandanna.
Plan C came into effect when I got home and found an impromptu dinner invitation from a friend. Followed by a quick visit to Firstborn’s to deliver an gag gift and a challenge.
Silly quiz on Facebook has determined that I am Winnie the Pooh. I demur! I sent the quiz off to a bunch of friends and family, with the comment that I feel more like the love child of Kanga and Tigger. Maternal, nurturing, and bouncing off the wall. Just not bouncing very high (yet) this morning. A slice of pumpkin pie might help take care of that, especially if I can stop off at Racetrac for a tall hot chocolate.
I may pass on Knit Night tonight. Don’t want to, but somebody needs to catch up the laundry around here, and I seem to be the most likely candidate.
I called the PO yesterday as soon as they were open and spoke to our Express Mail guy, who reassured me that Jessica had spent the weekend safely locked up in the mailroom of our building. Which would explain why building security had no record of her arrival; she slipped in quietly with the rest of the mail.
She’s home, and safe, with all of her fingers (20) and toes (20). I ordered an alternate pair of hands, and she came wearing her flat feet and with a pair of high heeled feet. The wig is gorgeous and very long. I haven’t had a chance to try it on her yet. She came with her eyeballs installed, and her faceup is perfect.
I am happy. I am reasonably well-fed. And I am going to be mainlining Cherry Coke today.
- 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!