I think I have a few too many plates spinning, all at once. I used to blog every day. I was faithful at Knit Night. I did my visiting teaching in person, every month. It was a happy little routine, and I liked it.
Life is still wonderful. Love my job, love my calling at church, love the sisters we VT, love to hit that pool in the morning, love that I have my plan to get out of debt, and definitely, absolutely love my kids and my grandkids and my friends.
I am relatively sane and relatively solvent and relatively healthy and heart-deep in stuff I love and enjoy. And my tidy little schedule that worked so well, has been shot to h-e-double-hockey-sticks.
I have no idea what this all means. I think I will go ponder it while walking through shoulder-deep water. [It will almost certainly be safer than my stroll through the Coldwater Creek online outlet yesterday. A new jacket and four new work tops will be joining the lineup sometime next week, all deeply discounted. I had not bought anything girlish since just before my first lunch with NintendoMan last October. And I bet OPI has a nail polish that goes with every blessed one of them. Does. Not. Bear. Thinking.]
Heard this on the radio when I was driving to meet some of the kids, in the deluge on Monday night. Too lazy to grab the coding that makes it open up in a new window. Am off to go soak my head, and sundry other body parts.
Sing it, John!
- 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!