It’s approximately 6:30 as I begin this post. Beloved, like me, sets the clocks ahead so as to be on time. The computer says 6:31; the clock on the wall in front of me says something else.
I have been up for three and a half hours. In that time, I have emptied two boxes of books, moved all the storage tubs over to the west side of my studio, where the bookcases are filled, so that I can get to the empty bookcases. I have five boxes of books ready to be emptied, but my ankles said it was time to lie down for a bit before the shower. After fifteen minutes in bed, scratching my hubby’s back and rolling my feet and ankles, and another fifteen minutes in the shower, I am ready to lick my weight in wildcats.
Which is a good thing, because we have given ourselves a honey-do list that would daunt lesser mortals. I have taken the day off. If all goes well, we will come home with a driver’s license for me in my married name; a re-licensed Lorelai and both cars jointly-titled (have yet to come up with a name for his car, which we will be selling soon in order to buy his mother’s truck, so it’s rather like when we were raising goats ~ I didn’t give the kids pet names, because I knew we would be eating them); the paperwork begun for a new Social Security card; my passport renewed; stuff from Home Depot to do various projects; stuff from JoAnn’s so I can mend a pair of slacks for one of the missionaries; and other things that will occur to us while we are out and about. Some of his boys are supposed to come over late this afternoon or early this evening to help him move railroad ties and pull up fence posts, so we can put in the soaker system for our garden. He made the first pass with the Troy-Bilt yesterday.
I suspect that tomorrow morning will be another day (like Sunday morning) when it is exceedingly difficult to roll out of bed. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
The second baby sock is about ready to have the toe bound off. And I think I may have found the box that holds the umbrella swift and yarn winder, so that I may wind some of the new yarn to make another pair. I would not be at all surprised if, when I go to bed tonight, I have cleared enough stuff in my studio that we can set up my worktable.
Right now there is a stack of empty boxes in the living room that resembles a page from The Cat in the Hat. But now it’s time for me to blow-dry my hair and get ready to stand in line(s).
Fear and tremble, oh ye bureaucrats! Ms. Ravelled and Beloved are heading your way.
- 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!