Having read that book [see sidebar] about clothing and textiles, naturally enough I found this article fascinating.
If you scroll down into it, you will discover that an even older shoe [made of fiber, not leather] was found in Missouri, where Latter-Day Saints believe the Garden of Eden was located. I suspect that Mother Eve threw it at Father Adam in a fit of wifely pique. Or maybe the Missouri shoe was attached to the back of a cart after somebody got hitched? Post-Edenic charivari?
Or maybe they just threw it at Shrödinger’s cat? Which I first discovered through Fourthborn’s post. Which led my bleary mind to Google the topic and find this. And which does not explain the presence of cat hair on my favorite T-shirt. (Heaven, and I, know why.)
It has been quite the week. If I could just live in the pool at the health club, I think I would be perfectly content. Work is going well. I don’t think I took formal breaks from Wednesday on, but I was productively busy, even if the items on my to-do list kept multiplying like lemmings. We had a good RS presidency meeting on Wednesday night. I went to the temple twice, on Tuesday night and last night. Communication has been pleasant, and steady, with the new guy.
But. A service project for which I was responsible, got off on the wrong foot, though it seems to have ended well. I inadvertently hurt somebody’s feelings. I held the feet of [at least] one of my daughters to the fire. I called Brother Sushi on my way to work yesterday and left him a message asking him to leave one on my phone, telling me that I’m a good mom. When I left the message, I didn’t want to actually talk with him, because I was pretty sure I would start crying. He called me back several hours later, after a handful of small things had gone right at work and I was starting to feel somewhat successful as a human being once more, and I reflexively picked up. He told me I am a great mom.
We have this agreement, wherein we do not lie to one another. [I asked him if I could get that notarized, and he said he would be happy to notarize it, in blood. I don’t think he was talking about his blood, or mine. He wouldn’t, really, but he made me laugh.]
It helped. And the day continued to get better. Middlest called me at lunch to tell me that she had made the last payment on my birthday present, which shipped today and should be at my office early next week.
The first sock for my friend M, fits almost perfectly. It’s a little too long, but I know several ways to fix that. I am going to reheat some of the pesto chicken for dinner, and then I think I will grab my old swimsuit (the new one is still damp, as is this morning’s towel) and go back to the health club. I’m not actually going to swim, and it isn’t the ocean, so I think there is small danger of being swept away by the undertow...
- 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!