With apologies to Professor Harold Hill, I wish I had room for a pool table chez Ravelled. There was one offered for sale in our employee-to-employee classifieds, and it had a red felt top. Sadly, there really, truly is no room at the inn. [I know at least two guys with pickup trucks who like me well enough to lug it here, (or half of it here, each) if there were.]
In other news, the second sleeve on the doll sweater is nearly complete. It would be done, and I would probably be halfway up the waist ribbing on the sweater body, if I had gotten myself out of the house soon enough to catch the train this morning. But I made a virtue of necessity and tossed a skirt and my dressiest pair of clogs into the back seat, and after work I drove up to the temple, one full day ahead of schedule.
Work went fairly well today. I transcribed a tape for one of the other attorneys. [I am so spoiled since I started working for my attorney.] I may have to transcribe another one tomorrow. Builds character, right?
Dinner last night with NintendoMan. We must have sat there for two full hours, laughing and talking and occasionally holding hands. When I showed up [late] at Knit Night, they looked at me and grinned, and one of my friends remarked that I was glowing.
Have I mentioned that I like the man?
It’s nearly 10:00pm, and I think I can finish the sleeve before falling asleep here in my chair. I know that I’m being uncharacteristically silent, but he got most of my day’s allotment of words last night, and probably a fair number of today’s.
I may have solved part of the mystery with the recurring athletes foot. I have been battling it, off and on, for roughly a year and a half. I was fine today until I switched to my knee-high hose and the nicest pair of clogs. And now I have a lesion forming on one of my feet. I have been washing my hose in a lingerie bag in hot water at the laundromat, and drying them on at least the perma-press cycle, hoping that that would be enough to sterilize them. Apparently not. I threw this pair into the trash after coming home from the temple, and I think I will just invest in a whole new batch of hose. In the meantime, I have so much Nystatin on the itchy spot that my foot and toe look leprous!
If I were still a drinking woman, this would probably be a night for it.
- 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!