It’s been crazier than usual around here. One mad blur since Thursday or thereabouts.
The Eagle court of honor was lovely and simple and moving, as it should have been. He is a fine young man, and I suspect he will do well on his mission. He leaves in two weeks for the Missionary Training Center.
Saturday? Well, Saturday I had fun at a Stampin’ Up party hosted by one friend, and I saw several things I would like to have, someday, when the studio is impeccably arranged and I might have some idea where said new things would fit. Meanwhile, I had fun.
From there I went to Michael’s and bought four baskets at 40% off. They have taken up residence on the shelving in the kitchen, where they corral the foil, saran wrap, et al, and the majority of the pasta, and two other categories of things that escape my mind at the moment. Just trust me that the shelving unit is starting to look on-purpose and more than marginally organized.
Beloved had said on Friday night, shortly before we crashed, that he wanted to take the last dibs and dabs of food storage out of what is theoretically the linen closet, just outside the guest bathroom, so that we could insert the clean, folded towels that were beginning to tower atop one of the dressers in our bedroom. I woke up at dark-thirty, as usual, and quietly (we will not say surreptitiously) removed said food storage and put it on the breakfast table, where one or both of us would have to deal with it. I then had a bowl of cereal and went to the Stampin’ Up party. When I returned from that and the foray into Michael’s, Beloved had arranged the additional food storage quite neatly on the shelving unit. I left the new baskets on the breakfast table (do you detect a pattern here?) and headed over to the LDS bookstore to pick up a gift certificate for the woman who does Beloved’s taxes, and to get my ring its six-month checkup.
When I got home again, he had filled all four baskets and placed them neatly on the shelving unit. It really looks fantastic in there. When one of the boys saw it after church on Sunday, he said, “Holy crap! I mean, wow does that look great!”
New broom, very discreetly sweeping clean. That would be me.
We tried to go to a 4:30 movie, but it was sold out. So we ended up seeing the 7:00 showing of The Avengers. Loved it! Loved it! Loved it! Squishy brought over both Iron Man movies, Captain America, and The Hulk.
I was set apart for my new calling yesterday, but that deserves a post of its own.
Mother’s Day is observed quite differently in the Beloved tribe than in the Ravelled tribe. I got a text from one of my girls, a voicemail from Secondborn and the Bitties, and the others basically did as I have trained them and ignored the day as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t expecting anything from my new sons and/or their wives because, hey, I’m not their mom. We were able to have Beloved’s mom over to dinner after church, and all three of the boys showed up to honor her (yay!) and to surprise me. Beloved gave me a lovely card at breakfast, and I got cards from my new kids, and a single perfect red rose, and a balloon that made me smile, and a gift card to one of my favorite shops. So, I got surprised but in a nice way, and I got lots of hugs (and they meant it), and Mother’s Day was not the angst-fest which usually goes on inside my head the second Sunday in May.
I love being a mom. I love my kids. And I am glad that I had them, and that they are all speaking to me. (And, I think, to one another; I haven’t heard otherwise and am hoping that no news is good news.) And someday when my computer is reconnected and I can pull up the file, I will treat you to my rant on Mother’s Day which I wrote circa 1994, when All Was Not Well in Ravelled Land.
In knitting news, I spent much of Friday and Saturday swatching for the pillow cover, and by bedtime on Saturday night I knew that I wanted a four-stitch cable that crossed every six rows, and that I wanted the cables to be three stitches apart. Sunday morning (again with the dark-thirty) I did the math and cast on with a fresh ball, after frogging the swatch and setting it aside to relax for a few days. I just finished spit-splicing another ball, and the fabric is glorious and lush and buttery and working up surprisingly fast on 3.0mm needles (a US 2.5, when the ball band suggests US 5-7, or 3.75-4.5mm).
I may be a model of rectitude and comportment in my personal life, but in my knitting life I am definitely a loose woman (like a contralto, who is a low woman who sings, or maybe vice versa).
Tonight we took a devil’s food cake to a going-away party for a former bishop of our ward and his wife. They are moving out to Utah. Then we came home and watched Iron Man, and I knitted some more.
The clock says it is a quarter to midnight. I say I am ready for bed. And tomorrow is ward temple night, but the only way I will get through it is to rev up on Cherry Coke throughout the day.
I can sleep when I’m dead, right?
- 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!