About Me

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Five 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, March 27, 2010


I enjoyed this article about miracles when I read it last April. It was a good reminder for me then, and it was a great booster shot for me now. I read it again after posting yesterday, in part to see if the link still worked. Here is one way in which it blessed me: when I got into my car at the train station at the end of the day, I happened to look down and see a pink split ring stitch marker, right where it had fallen off my knitting the other day. Mystery solved. I will wash it off before it goes back into my tool bag, but it’s home, and it seems to be none the worse for wear.

Perhaps the reason I woke at dark-thirty yesterday morning with a wee tickle in my nose that soon erupted into an onslaught of sneezing before ending almost as quickly as it had begun, is so that I would first read the article on the Christmas story, and then the article to which I have linked here. Maybe I needed those two booster shots before heading into work.

Which turned out to be nowhere near as difficult as I had suspected it might be. I’m not one for borrowing trouble, but I went in feeling pretty certain there was going to be a come-to-office-manager meeting, and that I would be getting an exceedingly professional and exquisitely ladylike earful. And perhaps that will happen next week, but what I wound up with was a quietly productive day and no drama.

If y’all were praying, that might have had something to do with it. At any rate, my thanks.

I wove in the ends on the doll skirt, and I worked the loops for the ribbon, and I am pleased. And then I grabbed the current incarnation of the doll beret and knitted away until I was almost back to the station last night, when I counted stitches and discovered that I had dropped one, four or five rounds back. So there will be a modicum of frogging in the very near future, when my eyes and my hands are speaking a little more clearly to one another; I’ve been up for about five minutes, and my two conscious acts, thus far, have been to pour myself a glass of orange juice and to wake up the computer.

I slept very well last night, though I had a strange dream in which one of my bridesmaids and I were in a charity-run thrift shop, and I found a quilt which my grandmother had made for my hope chest, folded neatly on the end of a bed. In the dream, I had my suspicions that one of the girls had taken it and sold it for gas money, and I was looking around for the one which Gram’s mom and sisters had made when Gram was a little girl. This morning, I suspect that I will find both quilts neatly folded on the end of the fainting couch in my studio and my daughter’s integrity quite intact, thank you very much.

I blame the chicken nuggets I had for dinner last night on the way to pick up my friend to go do our visiting teaching. My stomach feels undisturbed, after the fact, but I’m not so sure about my mind...

So what’s on the agenda today? A trip to the scratch-and-dent grocery store, to see if I can pick up cheese and chips more cheaply than we could get them in bulk at Costco or Sam’s, for refreshments for next Tuesday night’s Relief Society Second Annual Service Auction. Before that, a quick clean-out of the fridge to make room for any bargains I pick up later today.

There are bills which need my attention. There is an exhibition at the Amon Carter Museum which I think I might enjoy. I want to pick up new rechargeable batteries for my camera and get them fired up. A nap is not out of the question. And maybe some progress sorting and pitching in my studio.

I am not going to flog myself to try to get everything done before bedtime. I am hoping to flow from one activity to the next and end my day with visible progress and a sense of peaceful accomplishment. I also want to leave room for serendipity and a soup├žon of adventure.

The fridge first, I think, and then the frogging, followed by a sensible breakfast which is not likely to give me weird dreams when I catch those ZZZ’s later today.

1 comment:

Murr Brewster said...

I'm getting the idea that your frogging and my frogging are two very different activities. Yours sounds warmer. No?