Yesterday was one of those days that just got better and better. I woke up about 3:30 [this appears to be the new normal] and puttered around for an hour or so, then went to the gym and had a great workout. Good session on the recumbent bike, greater comfort on the resistance machines, which rock as I stretch, so when my head goes back beyond a certain point, the fear of falling kicks in. I just took things very slowly and told my ears and my brain to hush.
Then I came home and had a light second breakfast [Eggs McMommy; remember those?], which I ate in the car on the way to the church for carpooling to the temple. Except that nobody showed up before my Nervous-Meter kicked in, so I drove over on my own. Some have referred to the temple as the Lord’s University (not to be confused with BYU), and I noticed details about my surroundings when I was sitting in a quiet, holy place after serving in the session, which led to some thoughts, which led to other thoughts.
I learn something new about my relation to God, or my relation to others, any time I go, if I am sufficiently alert and well-rested and prepared. And always, always, some of that Heavenly peace follows me home and lights up the days that follow.
Then I went to Fourthborn’s and watched her put the finishing details on Faith’s body blushing and faceup, restring her with the unicorn bits, and adjust the fit of the wig, which came miles too big even though we ordered the proper size. She was almost done when I checked the time on my phone and gasped, because it was fifteen minutes later than the time I had had in mind to leave for the airport to pick up NintendoMan. So I lit out like a scalded dog and made it to the parking garage a few minutes before his flight came in.
I was sitting by the baggage claim [oh, how I miss the days when you could welcome people home as they walked out the gate]. No NintendoMan. No baggage. Thank goodness for cell phones. I called him: “I’m at baggage claim XYZ.”
“I’m at baggage claim ABC.” Sometime between Friday night and yesterday afternoon, they had switched gates, and of course I had not been home to double-check, so I just went with what I had written in my planner.
I picked him up, two terminals away, and thanks to the wonder which is the TollTag, we barely had to slow down to exit the airport. We had dinner at his favorite hamburger joint, and then I took him home, where I sat in the chair at his desk, and he sat in his recliner, and we talked for hours, and when it was time for me to leave, we caught up on hugs, et al.
And today is Sunday, which is already my favorite day of the week because of church and naps and time with family or friends, and is now even better because there is no competition from his job or mine. So there is a pretty good chance that I will get to see him again today when we are done with our respective meetings.
This does not displease me.
I called Fourthborn when I left his house last night, to see if she were home so I could pick up Faith, but she was off with a friend who also participated in our group order, so, no. I will most likely pick up Faith on Tuesday, when I am in town for Knit Night.
- 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!