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.
- 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!