He never ceases to surprise me.

(This is not a bad thing.) One of our friends is a gifted photographer. Beloved posted a link on Facebook, a picture of the groom spelunking amidst yards and yards of tulle in search of the garter. I allowed as how that was not going to happen at our reception.

First, because my wedding dress is not a Barbie dress (she looked lovely, and her style is not my style). Second, because I intend to park the garter just below my patella, thus displaying a bit of ankle and maybe a swathe of calf, but nothing in hey-sailor territory. Third, because Beloved might be a great one for teasing, but he would never do anything to embarrass me (nor I, him).

I think the guys in my office have seen my calves maybe half a dozen times in the ten years I have been working here. I am mostly a jeans girl, or dress slacks, or long skirts. I don’t want any of my co-workers to faint, or be snow-blinded.

Cake topper arrived yesterday. I ordered his ring this afternoon. My dress should be here in the next few days. The garter is mostly-sewn, and I have had second thoughts about its embellishment. What I chose, would be lovely; what I have in mind would be memorable.

Today was a far more productive, and far less stressful, day spent wrangling the new systems at work. While I didn’t get anywhere near as much accomplished as either my attorney or I would have liked, I am truly hopeful of being caught up by close of business on Friday. I even remembered to order the cake for Friday’s birthday celebration.

Jury is out on whether I will remember to pick it up on Friday morning.

As Beloved has tithing settlement tonight, and we have not seen one another since Sunday, and I fell asleep last night before he got home from his clerkly duties (ergo, no me on the other end of the phone when he called), I am doing another drive-by smooching after work. I told him not to expect me until I got there. Sprouts is having a sale on blackberries, and I fully intend to get my share of them. And maybe a healthy little treat for him and the other brethren who are slaving over a hot keyboard tonight.

45 days [tee hee]

Busy, spendy day

Bought the flowers for my bouquet, boutonnières for the guys and corsages for the girls, pre-ordered Beloved’s ring (because it doesn’t come in superhero size). And now have florist wire and florist tape, but will wait on the ribbons until everything is assembled, then take finished objects to the craft store for matching purposes.

Also ordered the white lace stockings. This morning I partially assembled the garter. I want to look for an alternate trim to finish it off.

Land line at home is cancelled. Now to reconcile my checkbook, and then will head for home.

This has been a magical staycation. Who knew that I could be so happy, being at home for nearly two weeks?

Life is good.

Beloved gets blog privileges.

I am blogging from his computer. And he is reading over my shoulder.

Church today went well. My ring is still gorgeous. He is still such a good guy. I would say all these things even if he were sitting in another room.

That stealth project I was mentioning? Forgot to tell you that this whole mushy business was that stealth project, but you probably already figured it out.

I am shutting down the land line at home, will keep my computer at home for printing off labels and organizing the move, the reception, et al.

Wedding gown is ordered, and cake topper will be here by the end of the week. Just found the white lace stockings that I want to wear and have emailed the information to myself. I can’t access it from home, or at work, but I can order it from Secondborn’s, or I can order it from here on a day other than the Sabbath.

We have had an interesting series of discussions, while I have been on his computer looking at one website or another. He now knows a whale of a lot about me. There has been some blushing. Not all of it mine. And a lot of healthy laughter.

And now if you will all excuse me, it’s time to head back out to the kitchen for a little smooching, and then I need to go pick up Middlest, who is spending the night at my house, and the day with me tomorrow, and tomorrow night as well, and on Tuesday I will drop her at the airport on my way to work.

Life is very, very, very good.

Blogging from Secondborn’s, again.

Thanksgiving was amazing. I managed not to eat myself into a coma, but it required enormous fortitude. [Fivitude?]

I came home with two meals’ worth of chicken pot pie from Wednesday night, the last slice of black bottom banana cream pie, about half of my Death Tart [has pecans; Fourthborn can’t eat any, hence the name], and four of Squishy’s hot rolls. Not to mention lots of sweet kisses, many hugs, and one discreet pat on the tushie when Beloved thought nobody was looking.

I am going to have so much fun with that man!

The meeting of spouse-emeritus and Beloved was calm, dignified, and otherwise uneventful. Willow or Lark asked if she gets to be my flower girl. Beloved and 1BDH and I had a great exchange during a dull spot in the Cowboys game.

1BDH: “You do realize that when you marry a [Ravelled] woman, the fun stops once you’re actually married?”
Beloved: “???”
Me: “That which stopped when you married Firstborn, begins when I marry Beloved.”
1BDH: “Lucky devil.”
Beloved: “Woohoo!”

Boys. Gotta love ’em.

Today I am paying a few bills while here on Secondborn’s computer, balancing my checkbook (which I like to do two or three times a week), and ordering the cake topper and maybe my wedding dress. I am thinking seriously about shutting down my land line at home, since I can blog from here or after-hours at work, and I’ve done reasonably well for the past three weeks without home internet. [It’s more or less a small twitch in one eye, as opposed to a grand mal seizure.]

I packed four boxes yesterday before leaving for Thanksgiving dinner(s), and another two boxes this morning (the latter two in my studio).

I have no idea what I’m doing for Christmas, either in terms of what I am giving people, or where I will be spending it. But the moostletoe is hung over the doorway to my kitchen, and I think when I go home, I will do a little decorating.

I need to ask him if he has an artificial tree; I do know that he is planning to hang lights outside this weekend, once he takes care of a couple of minor plumbing issues.

Bills. Bills, then shopping, then Costco with Secondborn. Seven weeks is looking like not-very-long to me. We are going with Plan B for the cake; I need to check into that venue while I’m online and thinking about it.

Happy, happy! Joy, joy! With a side order of EEEEK!

Posting from Secondborn’s

Oh, internet friends, how I have missed thee! It’s been quite the week. Middlest got here yesterday and spent the night on my couch. This morning we kidnapped Fourthborn and bought cinnamon rolls from KolacheMan and made a raid on Pottery Barn (hoping to find wee swords for the small dolls, but failing nobly in our quest) and are now here. My kids are helping out with craft day, downstairs, while I am up here getting my internet fix.

So: officially engaged, as in he gave me the ring at the dance on Friday night, breaking into the ring of sisters who were dancing to All the Single Ladies to do a John Travolta slide on his knees, ending up in front of me with a box full of ring. And I? I was momentarily, and uncharacteristically, speechless, doing the Sandra Bullock hand-fanning thing after pulling both hands away from my mouth. He says the look on my face was priceless. Then he stood up and hugged me, and if memory serves, announced to the younger brethren, “And that, gentlemen, is how it’s done.”

That thing that women with new engagement rings do? Guilty. I am rather glad that I lost that particular argument.

My friend Alison was in town over the weekend. We did a little texting and left each other a couple of voicemails, then finally met just before stake conference on Sunday morning. She is even more beautiful and wonderful in real life than she is in her blog. And I’m not saying that simply because she brought me two balls of cerise/fuchsia cashmere. I felt like a total ditz, with a serious case of the distractables as the hand and I got pulled from pillar to post. One of these days she and I are going to have to be in the same place at the same time, with no distractions, and spend a few hours or a few days talking and laughing and knitting.

Beloved and I are registered at Pottery Barn. He has initiated a letter writing campaign at Bass Pro, because they do not have a wedding registry, only a wishlist. [What? Rednecks don’t get married? I don’t think so!] As the shower curtain I fell in love with is being discontinued, I stopped in on Friday night before the dance and nabbed one. I also have a sheaf of paint chips which (once I can sit still and string two consecutive thoughts together, because right now I’m having too much fun laughing with my kids) I need to compare under natural light and incandescent light with the shower curtain, because I am actually thinking of something other than red for the living room walls.

This is the part where I post and wave goodbye for probably another week, unless I can get the internet fixed while I am avoiding the Black Friday crowds. Right now I need to reconcile my checkbook and pay a couple of bills.

Beloved says, 53 days and counting.

Another quick post.

I was in training all day today. My home phone line is supposed to be fixed by 7:00p.m. tomorrow. And then I will meet with Bishop after 8:00p.m. to sign the updated application for my sealing cancellation.

He has statements from FirstHubby and the children’s father. Bishop has written out his own statement. (And he would like me to take all or most of the bouncy songs off the playlist for the reception. I can do that. Beloved is wanting to have the marriage around 10:00a.m. and the whole thing over and done with around noon, so we can get to the place we will be staying, before dark. Fewer songs mean a shorter reception, less cake down the hatch, and a greater chance of my not falling asleep mid-afternoon through sheer exhaustion.)

I am going to Knit Night. I will probably not stay long, but I need to be around wool, and women, after a day listening to a most excellent presenter teach us how to navigate the new docketing system. He has a good, clear voice, an engaging personality, and makes what could be a very dull but necessary process intermittently enjoyable. I was successful in moving the documents which I created yesterday into the new filing system, once class let out.

Tomorrow should be slightly less crazy, significantly more productive, and then I am off for the better part of two weeks.

The shower curtain that I fell in love with last Saturday is no longer available on the gift registry (or online) so I am buying it on Friday. And I found more sheets that I like.

No internet at home.

I’ve reported it to Uncaring Monopoly. The last time this happened, it was because a tree branch was arguing with the line. And we’ve had a lot of wind lately.

Great weekend. A drive-by smooching of the new guy after work on Friday night. Harry Potter 7.2 with Secondborn and her friends. Some window-shopping on Friday and during the day on Saturday.

Yesterday he came to church with me, to watch my little ones in the annual Primary sacrament meeting. We left shortly thereafter (I handed the kids off to my team teacher) and drove east to his ward, where I attended the presentation in his ward, followed by the entire block of meetings.

His bishop’s wife is their Gospel Doctrine teacher. She asked him to stand and introduce his guest.

“This is my friend, Ms. Ravelled. In January, she will be moving into this ward. And changing her last name.”

I have been sitting on this news since Thursday before last, although my kids and my sister were told immediately (in a veryfasthighpitchedvoice). Some of you have guessed. He ordered my ring today.

When the ring is on my hand, we will update our status on Facebook to “engaged” and fill in the blanks in terms of names. No use of the e-word on FB until then, if you please.

Wedding most likely in early January, timing contingent on when he has his surgery to remove the colostomy bag. Venue to be determined by how quickly the First Presidency moves on my request for a sealing cancellation. The children’s father very graciously requested, in his statement, that they expedite matters due to the new guy’s health issues.

Because of the short time frame, we will dispense with engraved invitations and go the e-route, with a few paper copies for sundry meetinghouses. If you’re local (or not) and want an e-vite, please email me here or on FB.

And I suppose it is also time to unveil his new moniker here on the blog, but it’s what I’ve called him inside my head and inside my heart for a very long time:

Beloved.

So tired I could cry.

The past couple of days, as we prepare for conversion at work, have been brutal. Scheduled meetings, impromptu meetings, endless meetings, and the downside to my improving health is that I have very few trigger points near my knees, that I can push on discreetly while sitting through said meetings, in order to generate enough pain to stay awake.

The stealth project continues apace. Patience, grasshoppers, I shall have a picture of a finished object in the relatively near future.

Taking an hour of PT and possibly heading over to the campsite for a hug and a quick smooch before heading to Secondborn’s for some serious HP7.2 tonight. I will be the one falling asleep, bolt upright, on her couch.

Crazy day tomorrow: Greek Festival, potluck and dance. Possibly more smooching.

Life is good.

d. c. al fine

The training at work continues. We are just about meetinged to death. I am accomplishing very little of substance. My thoughts are like water droplets on a hot griddle.

On the other hand, my knitting is behaving in a particularly cooperative fashion. I like the pattern, the yarn, the colors, and the fact that this is my last birthday gift to create for 2011. I am so thankful to have a family who value handmade gifts.

Tonight I will be serving in the temple with the new guy. If I keep showing up at his ward’s temple night, people are going to start talking. (That is, if they are not doing so already.) Tomorrow is my regular shift. The temple was closed for semiannual maintenance for two weeks, and while it was theoretically nice to have an extra evening or myself, two Thursdays running, in reality it left a hole in the fabric of each week. I am glad to be returning to what passes for normal in my life.

I have made significant progress on the stealth project, one wee bite at a time. I might even have a picture of the work in progress before the end of the month. No promises, more like what we in our family call a definite maybe.

Time to log off and go make myself useful in the House of the Lord.

Monday mumblings.

I will begin and end with quotes which the office manager sent out to the office:

He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery. ~ Harold Wilson

So, I have finally settled on a pattern for 2BDH’s hat. I worked seventeen rounds of K1, P1 ribbing in purple #1, switched to white and knit one round (this, after two or three failed attempts at getting the plain stockinette to look pretty or to be visually the same gauge as the ribbing), then shifted the ribbing one stitch to the left. In other words, the purled stitches in purple are now knitted stitches in white, and there is no awkward transition between the purled purple stitches and the white ones. You can thank Jacqueline Fee for the lack of an awkward transition; I learned that trick in her Sweater Workshop Book.

Funny things that happened this weekend: when looking for the pit-stop before the baby shower on Saturday, I found it not in the medicine cabinet, but in the cupboard where I keep my hair spray and cleaning products. I laughed and put it back into the medicine cabinet. A little later, when I went back to brush my teeth after breakfast, I grabbed the pit-stop instead of the toothpaste and narrowly avoided having to trash my toothbrush.

On the other hand, I have a growing number of tasks to accomplish related to the stealth project, and I am checking them off nearly as quickly as I am adding new ones. This reassures me [somewhat] that the Alzheimer’s Fairy does not have a stealth project of her own.

I may or may not be at Knit Night tomorrow night. (I have an opportunity for more overtime.) Or the Knit Night after that. I hope to make the one in two weeks, if there is one, but it might be the one that I used to attend, because Middlest will be in town, and she knows more people in that group, I think, than in the group I am attending now. Or she may have plans with one or more of her siblings that preclude either or both of us attending Knit Night, anywhere.

I am just taking things one day at a time. And sometimes one hour at a time. Living and dying by the sticky-note, the electronic reminder, sundry calendars, and the intermittent subvocal childbirth word.

The new guy emailed me to say that his cancer count is now down to 8.9. These would be the cancer cells which are hanging on for dear life and biting anything that comes at them. They will be the hardest to kill. But we are ever hopeful.

Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful, it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful, it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident, it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better. ~ King Whitney Jr.

Life is good. And I am logging off in three minutes and heading to see my NailDude.

Crazy-busy, with more to come.

Posts may be a little thin on the ground for the next few weeks. I recently undertook a major stealth project, we have the Primary program next Sunday, two Thanksgivings to get through, the usual Christmas insanity (which I adore), and the inevitable complications from the new guy’s chemo and probable surgery to remove the colostomy bag and reconnect his plumbing as Heaven and nature intended.

In other news, when I was at the baby shower yesterday (at which I did not present her with a finished pair of baby socks, but she was quite happy with Plan B), I learned that my friend AlisonH, whom I’ve known online for what? four-plus years? and who is my bishop’s wife’s sister-in-law, will be here later this month, so I finally get to hug her in the flesh. I am seriously excited about that, Alison, and I promise not to knock you over in my enthusiasm.

Tola, I’ll give her an extra hug, from you.

The call went out overnight from our compassionate service leader, for contributions to food baskets for sundry ward members. I have a bag by the door, things that are still fresh but no longer on my safe list. They will be going to church with me today. I checked the expiration dates on the two cans of cranberry sauce. 2006 and 2009. Oh dear. Mute testimony to my lack of enthusiasm for holiday cooking.

I could probably put in the #10 cans of powdered milk which are currently in my food storage, as that stuff keeps for years under the right storage conditions, and I’ve maintained those as much as possible in an old house in Texas in a summer like the one just past. Be right back.

Nope, not this weekend. That would require dismantling the impromptu shelves at the side of the fridge. I am using #10 cans as the uprights. And that would be way over the line in terms of working on the Sabbath, but I can rearrange things during the next week and contribute them next Sunday. OK, that’s on my calendar for bright and early Saturday morning, before I go to the Greek Food Festival. Woohoo! One more minuscule victory in the battle against the forces of chaos. Not to mention my ongoing and very personal war on hunger.

I have Middlest’s itinerary for her trip to Texas later this month. I am excited about that, as well. We have offered our services as pie-making flunkies on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, which is Pie Day in the new guy’s household, but he will be getting the chemo pump off sometime that day, which will cut into pie-making time. He’ll be management; we’ll be labor.

Apparently there was an earthquake in Oklahoma and Texas yesterday. 5.6 up where my friend Alyeen lives. I didn’t notice anything here, but I was at Secondborn’s, and the kids were running around being kids and showing off for Gram, so anything less than the house falling down around our ears would have gone unnoticed.

I think that’s it. Baby sock is going on the back burner, and I hope to finish the ribbing on 2BDH’s hat at church today and get started on the straightaway. I’m doing 1x1 ribbing on this hat and designing as I go. No idea why; I just am.

I also decided on Friday to give away all my hats except the one that Fourthborn gave me. I have a friend who is as hat-mad as I am, and she might as well enjoy them. I am on a downsizing spree, and this just feels like the right thing to do. This is me, at work last Friday, after we came back from lunch. There was a guy across the restaurant who kept looking at me. Looked like a poor man’s Gerald McRaney in his Simon and Simon days.



Still life: Red Hat with Chin(s). Have a blessed and peaceful Sabbath, everybody. Life is good.

The news is mixed.

He spoke with his oncologist yesterday. There is a 5% chance for a complete cure. I figure that 5% is infinitely better than no chance. And the realistic prognosis is two to five years, which is not as much as I had hoped, but better than I expected.

That being said, he and I had a long talk last night, in the course of which he admitted that he loved me back. And there was a lovely, tender, respectful, and thoroughly enjoyable kiss at the end of the evening.

In more urgent news, I have a baby shower tomorrow morning at 10:00 that almost slipped past my radar. I just finished winding the yarn (an orphan skein of Claudia Handpainted Fingering) and will break in my 4” Harmony DP’s on this project.

I get to wear a hat to work today. I found the box that contained my hats. Now to decide which one.

That’s probably all the sense you’re going to get out of me today.

Tenterhooks

Took a bit of PT and ran an errand after work, then headed to Secondborn’s with her hat, which she loves. Got a picture of her in it, Bittiest on her lap.



Finished LittleBit’s hat and got it photographed for Ravelry and both projects marked finished. Did the set-up for 2BDH’s hat on Ravelry, noting yarns and needle size and date started, which will be in a few minutes, or maybe when I get to work.

Feeling a little like a kid on Christmas morning, for the moment. Am reasonably sure that my emotions are going to be all over the map today. This is a Big Day, for both the new guy and me, and don’t think the Adversary doesn’t know it. I have been praying that he has a clear channel in terms of knowing what Heaven wants for us, and that I have the wisdom, grace, courage, or whatever else is needed to respond accordingly.

What I am hoping, of course, is that this is going to be a yee haw, crawdaddies! day for both of us. And part of me wishes I could be a mouse in his pocket at the hospital today, while recognizing that he needs peace and quiet and no distractions when he is talking this over with the Lord, afterward.

I have to laugh at myself a little: I did the math and figured out that I have been patient approximately 8.5 times longer than I would have been in my 20’s. (A side benefit of having ovaries that are no longer screaming hey, sailor!) My calendar is free tonight, should he wish to visit face to face. I have a massage scheduled for tomorrow night and will be having dinner at Black Eyed Pea after that (wondering if there is a dance tomorrow night?), and I’ve told him that he is welcome to join me there.

If all of this sounds as if the Patience Fairy has left the building, along with Elvis, and has been replaced by the Tenterhooks Fairy, you would be right. I am now heading out to the kitchen to plan breakfast, lunch, and my snacks. I am already reconciled to the knowledge that I will be steadily eating my feelings all day. I want to make sure that at least some of what goes down the hatch, is healthy.

Prayers and positive thoughts, if you please.

Here is Clara Parkes’ review of BrooklynTweed’s new yarn, Loft. I popped a link onto Facebook from his website, night before last, and will be buying some of this yarn for next year’s gift knitting. There’s a pattern in Wendy Knits Lace that would be ideal for all the adult women in my tribe, even if my tribe doubles in the next few months.

This is the part where I go soak my head.

Real love eats curry.

I think I might have mentioned the Unfortunate Curry Episode from my misspent youth, when I was making two-thirds of a recipe of curried rice and flipped the fraction in my head while measuring out the curry, effectively making it twice as hot as it was intended to be?

There is an excellent Indian restaurant across the street from the high school which my kids attended. I have eaten there a couple of times with Brother Sushi, whose first (but apparently not last, tee hee!) wife was from India. I found a couple of things that I could eat comfortably, but while he was tucking into one curry or another, I was chiefly there for the joy of his company.

The new guy was supposed to get chemo yesterday. When they did his blood work, they told him that his platelets were too low, and they sent him home. He will try again next week. I figured that he might need a little cheering up, so I offered to come over after work and help dismember more pomegranates. His emailed response was very sweet. (I am welcome there, any time. Such a dangerous thing to say to a woman besotted!) He later emailed to tell me what was for dinner, and that they would save me some: chicken curry over rice, steamed cauliflower, zucchini, and spinach.

My inner four-year-old was shrieking OH GACK!

I got to work nearly two hours of overtime, and then I headed his way. True to his word, he had saved me some dinner. Perfectly cooked rice, two abominable veggies and the last of the spinach, and a delicately flavored curry made by his newest daughter-in-law.

I told him it was the first time in 35 years that I had liked curry. (Probably longer than that; probably closer to 50.) He brought her out to the kitchen so I could tell her personally. Note to my fellow loathers-of-cauliflower: it is better with a generous splash of curry liquid all over it. Ditto for zucchini.

In other culinary news, I made an executive decision yesterday and ordered the immersion blender for my Christmas gift from the corporation. I really could have used it during the Salmon Soup Fiasco of recent memory.

And I did my free annual credit check, more like my free about every eighteen months credit check, and got my credit score from one of the firms. *Much* higher than I expected to see, and today I will call them and cancel my free trial offer. I have one potentially-negative item that should drop off the radar in another eighteen months or so.

In knitting news, I reached the point where I needed to design the crown shaping on the current hat. I tried it on before the decreases, and I tried it on again after three decrease rounds, and I am decreasing too quickly. So I will frog back and start the decreases over, with fewer sections: six as opposed to ten. I think that will give me just enough depth in this portion, but if not I will frog back again and try it with five.

This is the part where I put on my shoes and scoot on out the door. I would rather stay home and knit and eat some of the chicken which was simmering in the crockpot when I got home last night. I portioned it all out and set it on the window unit on the porch to cool, setting the timer for 20-minute intervals. Everything got brought in and put in the fridge, and I probably will not need to cook for a week. Eight (or maybe ten) chicken thighs goes a long way, chez Ravelled.

Tonight I will take Secondborn her birthday present, which I forgot to photograph for Ravelry, but only realized at bedtime last night.

Twitterpated.

Fort Worth Greek Festival

For those of you who are local.

Brother Sushi may or may not be going with me; there is always room for one more. Secondborn is having a HP-DH2 party on Friday night, when I would ordinarily dine with him. (Which means that I need to see a few of the movies, including HP-DH1, before then.)

I hung out at the bookstore until about 8:30 last night. If I don’t get to eat candy corn, nobody else does. Actually, it’s a very quiet neighborhood, and on the nights I have stayed home with candy, I’ve had maybe one or two kids show up. I am not into giving candy to teenagers; Halloween is for little kids, and those of us who refuse to [entirely] grow up. The teenagers can get jobs and buy their own candy, or get it from their parents.

Bah pumpkinbug!

I did end up going to the drugstore on my way to work yesterday, but I came up empty in terms of a costume. One of my coworkers made a simple tutu from skinny black elastic and strips of tulle that were tied on with lark’s-head knots (as in macramé). Thus solving my problem of what to make for at least some of the resin kids next year.

After the bookstore, I ran by Sprouts and came home with more chicken thighs, a small bottle of maple syrup, an avocado, more grape tomatoes, deli-sliced chicken for sandwiches, a small wedge of goat cheese that I tried and liked last time, and a middle-sized bag of baby carrots. The chicken, some frozen chopped onion, and half of the carrots are simmering in the crockpot for dinner tonight. When I woke up, the house smelled heavenly!

Sometimes low-tech and old-fashioned is the way to go. I was trying to figure out an easy way to print new labels for my circular needle holder tabbed dividers. I don’t like the glazed cardboard inserts, and some of the crimping at the bottom of the tabs is faulty, so the insert falls to the bottom of the organizer. Setting up a label template and rotating it to landscape view (so that, in theory, it would print sideways) didn’t work. I ended up using return address labels (as planned) but hand-lettering them. No more fiddling with tweezers to shift the inserts about when I buy a new circ that needs to go between ones I already had. (Because when I wake up at 2:00a.m. and need a 2.25mm needle, I want to know exactly where to find it. Brigham Young would be proud of me!)

Why, you ask? He said that we should know where everything is in our homes, so that if we wake up in the middle of the night we can put our hand right on what it is that we need. You may not need a 2.25mm circular needle at 2:00a.m., but I never know when the muse is going to roust me out of bed and demand sticks and string.