Slept in until 6:30, puttered a little, went to the gym, ran a couple of errands, got my nails done, picked up Fourthborn, and came to Fort Worth.
We didn’t do much of anything, other than combine forces to find the foot-feed and power cord to the serger I inherited from Mom, which I passed on to Fourthborn several weeks ago. I started at the closet and was working my way back toward the door. She was sorting the stacks on the Chastity Bed, when she said, “This is a foot-feed, what does it go to? It says Bernette.”
I told her she could stop looking. So, that was pretty cool. We celebrated with milk and cookies. She sat on the couch and looked at stuff while I gift-wrapped BittyBit’s birthday present (after Fourthborn had had a chance to read it). We talked. We laughed. We talked some more. She brought me four pairs of shoes that will fit Celeste.
We are both thinking that the cabinet which the new guy helped me with last weekend would be a good place to keep doll stuff. I showed her all the hats I have made (which she couldn’t touch, because she is allergic to wool, cashmere, alpaca, etc.) and the shrug I made for Blessing, which she could handle to her heart’s content.
I have been biting my tongue all week, because tonight was not only our ward’s Trunk or Treat, it was also a surprise birthday party for Secondborn. And I was able to arrange my contributions as a member of the activities committee, so that I could go to the family party instead of the ward party.
On our way to Secondborn’s, we stopped at the bead shop near where Secondborn used to live. Fourthborn liked it every bit as much as I had hoped she would. She also found some resin beads so I can make a corsage for Blessing’s teal sweater.
I am trying to decide if I want to throw on a costume and head to the singles’ Halloween party. On the one hand, I would like to be there, and I kindof need to be there, because the one dim spot in my day is when we went to the nursing home where the children’s father lives, so Fourthborn could see him, and he asked me what it would take for us to get married again. I did not tell him that I am dating somebody. I did tell him that that window of opportunity has already passed.
He said, “I miss you.”
I said, “I miss what we had. When it was good, it was really good.” (And it was.)
I did manage not to cry, not there in his room, not out by the car when Fourthborn held me for a bit, not when we got out of the car at Secondborn’s and I asked for another hug.
What I would like, right now, is to be at the party, and to walk into the new guy’s arms and just boo-hoo in a corner and eat too much chocolate. What I think I am going to do, instead, is to put in a movie and eat a sensible snack and go to bed at a reasonable hour.
Reverting back to the other topic of local excitement: no, nothing famous froze over; I am not taking off early on Monday to go to Game 5. I am taking off early to avoid the traffic on I-30, I-20, 183, and every other major road between Dallas and Fort Worth that even thinks of connecting with something which leads to the Ballpark.
- 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!