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 17, 2012

In the last place you look...

Where to begin? Thursday, always a long day, was longer than usual. Beloved followed the prompting that had niggled him all week and went to the temple. Turned out that a mutual friend needed a blessing that only Beloved could give, and now we know why those promptings kept popping into his mind and heart.

He had not eaten anything since breakfast, so when my shift was over, he was ravenous and I had room for a little more food. So we went to In N Out. I had fries; he had a cheeseburger and fries of his own. Then we came home and talked awhile; he had a small bowlful of ice cream. I had a less modest portion of Oreos washed down with milk. Family prayer, and then to bed. Within minutes my innards were raising a ruckus. I strongly suspect reflux: too much food, too late in the evening. It was the wrong part of the world to be my heart, and it was nearly as painful as when my gall bladder was staging an insurrection.

So I got up and went into my studio. We had already installed the fourth leg on my table and set it in place. I moved sixteen Rubbermaid tubs of various sizes. I retrieved the box that might hold my missing tools. I opened it.


I stayed up awhile longer, putting more books into bookcases, until I was sleepy again. When I went back to our room, Beloved was wide awake and typing on the computer. It was 2:00a.m. The room was lit up like Vegas. He couldn’t sleep, either. I plugged myself into my CPAP and pulled the covers over my head. He typed a little longer, then slid in next to me, but he still couldn’t sleep. So he went out to the living room and read for an hour or two.

I got up at 6:00 and staggered into the shower. I knew there would be a dessert contest at work, and I would be too groggy to resist the temptation; I had a small bowl of cereal for breakfast and hit Wally World on the way in, for a two-liter bottle of Cherry Coke. They had no smaller bottles, and I knew I had gotten the last bottle at our deli on Wednesday. I drank somewhere between 20 ounces and a quart yesterday, but I stayed awake, and I was typing like the wind, Daniel-san.

We have both been crazy-busy today. I drove over to Arlington for some spa time, much needed. He got the chemo pump off. He bought a truck-ful of steer manure for the garden. I bought that pair of earrings I almost bought on Wednesday, and some milk and a bag of black bean chips to try. I made sandwiches for lunch. We took our gift cards and went to Bass Pro.

I am now the happy owner of three fishing poles that I barely know how to use. Apparently the ones we got today are the Gingher dressmaker shears of fishing poles (or the Coach bags, if that is your metaphor, or maybe a skein of Wollmeise in your favorite color with a pair of Signature stiletto needles and a new SusannaIC pattern tossed in for good luck). Anyway, I now have a Shimano rod and reel in an elegant pearl grey, and a big red tackle bag with room for a jacket and my emergency knitting, and a fishing hat, and a whole bunch of stuff that I have no idea what it is, but it makes Beloved grin like you would not believe.

I also picked up three large bundles of non-roll elastic to replace the dead elastic in three skirts (we found the JoAnn on the other side of Lake Ray Hubbard), and after we drove home with Arby’s in our tummies and fishing stuff in the car, he stayed home to unload the manure from the truck, and I took Lorelai over to CJ Banks and ordered another dressy T-shirt (yes, their darker green is a perfect match for the skirt I bought on clearance at another shop several months ago) and a pearl grey linen blend jacket to go with the black/white/grey lace skirt I bought on clearance a couple of weeks ago. At 40% off.

Its now 8:00p.m. I am ready to put on my jammies and crash. You’re on your own!

1 comment:

Jenni said...

Look at you speaking my language of expensive handbags!