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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!

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Still nuppin’, after all these years.

Although I am on the home stretch. Just eleven of them left to go, and then I start decreasing and short-rowing to beat the band. [No actual bands will be harmed during the completion of this shawlette.]

I got something like eight hours of sleep on Friday night. And a four-hour nap yesterday morning. Which was a good thing, as I didn’t get home from the dance in Denton until after midnight.

I took the scenic route home, west on 380 to Decatur, and then down 287 to home. It was a beautiful night for a drive, with a fairly stiff breeze blowing in through the windows (but not enough to blow me off the road or into a semi).

I always enjoy the activities in Denton. Seriously, always. It’s a college town (two big universities) and a different kind of laid-back than Fort Worth. I frequently get turned around in Denton; there must be something in the air that damps-down my internal GPS, but last night it worked just fine.

I remembered that the previous time (when the new guy and I went up there after eating ourselves silly at the Greek Festival) the online directions were incredibly useless, and I remembered that my phone has a map feature, so I programmed it before leaving the house. I took a different way to get there and drove straight to the meetinghouse, and now I know a little bit more about Denton and Denton-adjacent [to borrow a phrase from CrazyAuntPurl] than I did, and my internal GPS is feeling vindicated.

Saw friends old and new [made two new friends among the singles on FB yesterday, one of whom was at the dance], talked and hugged and danced and had a good time in general.

The new guy was not there. He wasn’t sure that he’d be up to it. Weekends are crazy for him on this new schedule, even without factoring in his illness. So he did the prudent thing and stayed home and rested. We are still writing back and forth every day, talking occasionally (twice last week, woohoo!), but everything is pretty much on hold until after his surgery, and his next appointment is not until the 10th [he is not happy about this, and neither am I]. He has promised me Filipino food cooked by his future daughter-in-law once he is able to eat it, and I think I mentioned that I am invited to the wedding.

Thankfully, there are no singles activities tonight, because I used up half a tank of gas last night, and I’m unwilling to break the Sabbath to get to a fireside where the topic might very well be keeping the Sabbath holy. I am also out of milk. Had planned to slip into Braums or CVS when I was close to home, but the detour made that out of the question. I do have almond milk in the pantry and a nice big cold glass of water here on my desk, so I will not perish from dehydration between now and whenever I wake up tomorrow morning.

I am going to curl up on the couch, finish this row, and celebrate by nuking the last breakfast biscuit. We have ward conference today, and while the stake leadership usually takes over the teaching in Primary and the youth classes, I have a lesson half-prepared that I ought to put the last touches on, in case it’s me-as-usual.

And then I am going to come home from church and take a nice long nap, just because it’s a holiday weekend and it doesn’t matter if I wreck my sleep schedule.

[Thank you, Dad, and all of your friends, that I have the option.]

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