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!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Blind, screaming panic? And a side order of S’mores.

So, there was an email waiting for me this morning, suggesting that he come over to Fort Worth, and we should go to dinner at Zeke’s. Which is, on the face of it, an excellent idea. However, as I told him, I am in the midst of disposing of old paperwork and finding new homes for things I no longer need, and right now the couch looks like the love child of a tornado and an IRS audit.

Hence the blind, screaming panic. We are not talking a state of messiness that equates with hoarding and the need for an intervention. We are talking about my desire to have a house that looks like what I think a Relief Society president’s house ought to look like. Which is nigh unto impossible given my calling, my commute, and my need to create.

But now I have fresh incentive to try.

The S’mores were well received at work yesterday. We had a mysterious computer glitch that took three or four hours to resolve. I grabbed a box of kim-wipes and started making S’more kits. Three dozen of them. Everybody got one, and there was much hilarity in the break room mid-afternoon.

I finished Chutzpah’s bloomers at Knit Night last night then came home and rummaged through my silk ribbon to come up with embellishments for the cuffs. Now to decide on which ribbon to lace through the buttonholes on the sweater, but she is basically modest, and now I can design and make her skirt.

I have no idea what I want to knit next. I think I will shred 100 things and then head over to the gym and see what bubbles up inside my head as I sploosh. That’s where I got the inspiration for S’morefest 2010.

Happy Wednesday, everybody. Knit something pretty, or hug somebody, or just sit on your [presumably tidier than my] couch and eat a S’more or three.


Tola said...

according to the cap on my organic drink, Isak Dinesen said "The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea." so maybe chlorinated water is the fount of inspiration?

Jenni said...

I seemed to notice that I didn't get any smores. An accidental oversight I'm sure.