There was an alleged match on the Churchboy Dating Service which did not make me fall out of my chair in peals of laughter. Or run screaming in horror. His profile reads like that of a functional, literate, reasonably healthy human being of the male persuasion. [I cannot bring myself to use the word normal, because as Brother Sushi and I often commiserate, what is the norm in what we see around us, is not necessarily what we are looking for.]
The way the Churchboy Dating Service announced his interest is this: “Click Alert! Somebody clicked Yes on your profile.” And in the body of the email, there was a picture of a 53 year old guy, and a 23 year old guy, one of whom thinks we might be a match. So I logged on, read his profile, thought “doesn’t sound like an axe murderer,” and shot off this response, “Please tell me it was you, and not the 23 year old they showed me, who thinks we might be a match.”
So, we shall see. He’s allegedly a widower. I haven’t had very good look with widowers. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the one widower I dated since divorcing the children’s father, had issues equal to or greater than those of the divorced men I have dated.
Also, he does not live in Texas, and I don’t want to leave Texas, but maybe he has sufficient faith to move the house in which he lives, and his presumably adult son’s, to within 100 miles of North Texas. I think I could deal with a man who was ready to move Heaven and earth to be with me.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled knitting. I am within five rounds of the halfway point on the length of the doll skirt. It still looks like a slightly warped tube, but I am about ready to end the panel at the top and back, and to work another decrease round. I think I am going to taper this skirt more than the pattern calls for, because it’s not as if Celeste is going to be wearing this to vacuum the living room. She just has to look pretty in it. So a hobble skirt would be just fine.
I have about half an hour in which to decide if I am going to be obedient and go on the ward temple trip this morning, when Mount Washmore is looming. And it’s cold again. And it’s raining. And I just want to stay home and do nothing except wash a few dishes and sit on the couch and knit.
Wahhh! OK, I’m done. Last night I reprinted the paperwork to finish the ordinances for my last uncle and for Brother Stilts. I’m going to take it with me and hope that enough brethren show up to do their work for them 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!