About Me

My photo
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!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Progress, on several fronts.

Another 100 pages shredded this morning, and 50 more stacked atop the shredder for when I get home tonight. One last 2” thick notebook to open and shred, but I may save that for next week. A ginormous bag of shredded paper waiting by the front door, next to the boxes which are bound for the thrift store.

[No, the spinning wheel is not also on its way out. It just wanted to get in on the act.]

The green necklace is re-strung, and the leftover beads have been bagged up and collected by color family into larger Ziploc bags. And put away in my studio. The bags do not have a permanent home in there, as yet, but they are together, and they are visible.

I still need to put some sort of fastener on the ends, but the fiddly part is done. Did I mention that I recently found my second pair of round-nose pliers, for jewelry-making?

And I have completed another repeat on the first missionary hat. The yarn really wants to be knit up in this pattern, and it is cooperating wonderfully.

Lovely email from the new guy last night. Nothing mushy. Just, nice. We are both looking forward to the Greek Festival on Saturday.

I did not get out the door to the gym this morning. But the bag is going into the trunk, and I hope to hit the pool after my service in the temple tonight. “It requires a constant labor, all His precepts to obey...” (Hymns, No. 273) The day will come when I can do it all: keep an immaculate house, get my visiting teaching done the first week of the month, eat a balanced diet and get enough sleep and exercise, and be kind all the way up from my genes. Until then, we function on the basis of selected neglect.

No comments: