Didn’t have to share him with the other petri dish last night. And he is having leftover lasagna for breakfast this morning. Am hoping that puts me way ahead on points.
And I hope I never get tired of him bringing me flowers. Alstromeria are some of my favorites, and he got the color right. The roses are from last night’s dance. Somebody donated a bunch of them for the single sisters. I nabbed the yellow one and clenched it between my teeth. When I got back to our table after a dance, there was a red one, too.
I did get the Christmas tree and the moostletoe holder put away. The living room is tidy, and the bathroom is clean, and other than that I didn’t worry about it. I had a really good day. The lasagna turned out well, and the company was excellent.
Last night’s dance does not require my channeling Thumper’s mother in order to comment. It was what I would have expected from my friends in my old stake in terms of food, music, and ambiance. Had a blast, and only went home early(ish) because I was plumb tuckered out.
I am still tired, although I slept well. My ankles want to swell. I may only go to sacrament meeting, hand in my tithing, and come home again. The respiratory yuck from earlier in the week flared up a bit on Friday, and last night the new guy got to hear me give a sneezing recital before we left for the dance. Something like seven-to-nine sneezes in rapid and deafening succession. My head is fairly clear this morning [no comments from the peanut gallery], but I am just pooped.
Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody. I’m going to sit here and look at my flowers until I have to put on shoes and get in the car.
- 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!