About Me

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Five 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!

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Blessings, blessings, coming out my ears!

I suppose this could more properly be called tithing blessings, because I’m sure that’s where many of the little goodies that happened yesterday/recently, originated from. Buckle your seat belts and shoulder harnesses, and settle in: it’s gonna be a long ride!

My passport arrived yesterday. I do not look like a fugitive from justice, more like a middle-aged dear-in-your-headlights, and when we are ready to go to Scotland, I can come back home. The supporting paperwork (i.e., our marriage certificate) will arrive separately, and when that happens I will tackle Social Security, which is, methinks, the last bureaucratic dragon to slay.

We got a refund check from the City of Fort Worth for my last month’s bill at the duplex. I have the deposit slip all made out, and it will go into our joint account this morning.

My order arrived from CJ Banks. Everything is as ordered. The colors are wonderful, and once I press the linen blend jacket (stop laughing!) my wardrobe will have become incrementally more respectable. My clothing is still divvied up into three closets, but that is a project for another day.

Beloved’s tolltag came. At least, I think his tolltag came. There is a packet with a little square in it and rather more explanatory material than I got when I got my own tolltag, eight and a half years ago. My tolltag is about the size of a credit card, roughly a quarter-inch thick, and attaches to my windshield with a pair of Velcro strips. His is about the size of a silver dollar and about as thick as a dollar bill. Apparently I have the Flintstone-phone of tolltags?

I have a new purse. I went to Charming Charlie after work, with the idea of buying a solid green scarf to go with my broomstick skirt and new shirt. I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned my purse dilemma here on the blog. The freebie which I got from the swap meet in my old ward is in decent shape, except for the handles, which are cracked. It is distinctly uncomfortable to hold my overloaded purse in my overworked hand. I saw an obscenely expensive ($300+) purse on the back of a fashion magazine a couple of weeks ago and fell in love with the color of it. Caramel. Goes with black. Goes with brown. Both of which I wear, in lightweight fabrics, year round. Big enough to hold all the stuff I think is necessary to lug around on a daily basis. Conservative enough to go from work to church to anywhere else, and not be too stuffy. But $300+. So, no.

Charming Charlie is the place to go for fun earrings and other accessories. If I had a need for evening bags, that is where I would go. It’s where I got the hair fluff and feather earrings for my wedding. (I know: you’re still waiting for those pictures. So are we. Patience, grasshoppers!) But their purse selection, to my way of thinking, leaves a lot to be desired.

I am not a big fan of ruffles or bling or animal prints ~ with the possible exception of zebra, but that purple and black silk blouse was fifteen years ago ~ on purses. I may wear wild colors in crazy combinations on my person, but I want my bag to be large, leather, and essentially unremarkable. Tasteful, if you will. (Red, in my world, is a neutral. Ergo the red laptop bag that I loved to death. The hot pink pleather watering can which I bought at a garden shop, and which I could have used as an actual watering can if I had had a scrap of gardening ability, was a notable and fun exception.)

Last night I found a black patent leather bag, mid-size, trimmed in a brown that is about the color of dark caramels. Originally $35 or $40, marked down to $19.99, so I put back the scarf and the card with three pairs of colored faux pearl earrings and marched my happy self to the checkout counter. It’s not real leather, either in the patent or the trim, but it will do until I find a caramel leather bag that fits my requirements and does not offend my frugality.

I paid $10, over my protests; the computer took another markdown at checkout!

At the craft store, I bought a tube of E6000 and a container of the little silicone earring nuts to replace those which have gone AWOL. So now I can fix my white faux pearl earrings, the ones I like to wear when I’m serving in the temple. And I will lose no more earrings with French hooks, unless I manage to misplace an earlobe. Not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Breakfast is over, the dining room is essentially emptied (two more boxes for the curb or for compost); stuff has gone out to the garage, where it is now Beloved’s problem; and a bunch of his firstborn’s fishing stuff will go with us up to their house for a family birthday party. Beloved is vacuuming the dining room. We are feeding the elders, and his mother, tonight. We are feeding the younger twin’s tribe, and Beloved’s mom, tomorrow night. In our dining room. Which has served as a storage shed for the past two months.

There is more good stuff to share, but I am overcome by the droppings of the feral dust bunnies, and I need to foof a little for the family party so I will be presentable for the inevitable picture-taking. And then I can put my knitting into my new purse.

I am working on a cowl from vintage (20 year old) warp chains for a jacket I never wove. 1980’s-era murky teals. This will be my donation to the fundraiser for Girls Camp next weekend. But it’s a little fiddly to take along, and I am jonesing to begin a project wendyknits recently completed. Remind me to tell you about it.

Am I going to be good and work on the cowl, or am I going to be ADKD (Attention Deficit Knitting Disorder) and fire up Wingspan?

(Hi, Leslie, thank you for your kind comments, and welcome to the madness which is my world.)

P.S. feature article in the Dallas Morning News this week about a local company which makes cajeta, which is artisanal sweetened condensed caramelized *goat* milk. Once I solve the problem of a goat milk ricotta equivalent, I can reconstruct one of my favorite desserts, the one from Cooking for Mr. Latte, with the toasted slice of baguette spread with Nutella then a dollop of ricotta and a drizzle of dulce de leche.

1 comment:

Leslie Gladney said...

I like Mad worlds, so hooray!

Your P.S. was evil, by the way, I am now researching cajeta to make desserts for my cow milk intolent sister. I *was going to scrub the kitchen floor and then wake the house with breakfast, but they shall have to settle for sweet polenta!