Doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Before I hit the gym, I dashed through Wally World and picked up two new pairs of the denim leggings I like so much and a new summer shirt with paisleys cartwheeling all over it. Ergo, my workout was somewhat hurried but infinitely restorative.
The unpleasant necessity, for which I needed Brother Sushi’s assistance, went more smoothly than I had expected and took rather longer than I had hoped. The bright side to that was more time spent in his excellent company.
I drove back to Fort Worth and headed straight for Lucile's, where they serve that wonderful lobster bisque. [When the going gets tough, the tough go eat lobster.] And then I came home and set the alarm for a two-hour nap, but I only slept for about an hour and a half of it.
Then it was up, re-spritz my hair, put on the new shirt with the new leggings and my second favorite pair of earrings, and head over to Fern Parts with a detour to Lane Bryant because one of my bras had committed ritual underwire suicide when I was getting dressed at the gym. Which coincided neatly and mercifully with a sale.
May I just say that his place is a long, long way from my place? Well worth the drive. Neither he nor his late wife were afraid of putting a little color on the walls. Bigger than my half of the duplex, smaller than the house that Secondborn & Co. just sold (but probably of that era). Cozy, but not in the real estate sense of the word.
And he was not exaggerating when he said he could cook. I have the leftovers to prove it, waiting in the fridge in nice containers that will have to be returned. His son commented something like, “Looks like that is part of the plan.”
Had a blast. We all ate so much that there is no way we could have attempted the line dancing. He said we will have to do that another time.
Still no idea what to call him, though the kids offered up some suggestions.
Remember I said that the first hugs were of the “bishop hugging the RS president” sort? Polite, respectful, sideways hugs, the kind that are culturally kosher [so to speak] for people who are married, but not to each other. Got a very nice but still entirely appropriate bear-hug at the end of the evening.
And the dolls got along well, too. Mel got lots of pictures of my two little ones sitting with or climbing on the two big ones they brought. Even Chutzpah behaved herself.
I did get the second sleeve done after lunch but before my nap. And I am now in the midst of joining all the bits together. I discovered when getting ready to attach the second sleeve, that I had reversed it when inserting it between the front and the back. That took some finagling to fix, as these needles are so small that you can’t get them in circular format. So at the moment I am juggling all five minuscule DP’s. It is awkward and fiddly, but not so much as to inspire childbirth words.
@Michele, welcome to the madness which is my world. [How on earth did you stumble upon me?] I will be happy to cobble together a reasonably coherent list of resources for you, but I will need at least one more nap before I can make it happen.
OK, y’all, time for me to refuel. I truly miss those days when I could easily fast; there is nothing like a dedicated fast to bring the Spirit near. So for me, this will not be Fast and Testimony Sunday. It will just be the savoring of others’ testimonies, and a day of grateful reflection upon my blessings. Thankfully, I am still quite capable of making a donation to the fast offering fund, which blesses the poor and the needy. I have certainly been both, more than once.
Whether I make it to the break-the-fast potluck for the singles in my stake tonight, remains to be seen. I have never been disappointed when I went, nor in the fireside (inspirational talk) which followed. But generally, by the time I am done with 2.5 hours of meetings, including choir practice, and the regular three-hour block of meetings, I am ready to be horizontal and unconscious as quickly and safely as humanly possible (i.e., preferably not behind the wheel on the way home).
And it’s been a week that rather was rather more complicated than usual.
- 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!