About Me

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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!

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Commodious

Tomorrow is Big Payday, the one we get twice a year in those months which contain three paydays. Taxes come out. My 401K contributions come out. And that’s it. All the little piddly things that add up, sit around in cyberspace twiddling their thumbs and waiting to pounce on the paycheck after that.

No chemo-lite today. Beloved’s doctor says this is warm-up for the treatment at MD Anderson, assuming he gets in. They will want him off chemo for a bit before he goes. I am certainly enjoying the break (I will not have to drop him off at the cancer center on my way to work, although it is my pleasure and privilege to do so). I woke around 4:00 (aGAIN) and wandered out to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and some of Beloved’s most excellent sourdough bread with a slathering of marionberry jam sent by a friend in Oregon. Thence to the living room for the first reading of Sunday’s lesson. And now here to type up my “homework” labels for the kids.

I shot an email to Secondborn and 2BDH last night, inquiring about the make and model of the commode in their guest bathroom. I think we’re on track to get the new one for ours this weekend, and maybe also the new tile. While I was rooting around in my studio yesterday, I found one of the two little tin-lined copper cups acquired when we lived in the Hill Country. It is now up in the cabinet over the current commode, where it catches the light wonderfully while holding a small army of bobby pins.

Tonight is temple night for me. I am still dragging from all the excitement of last weekend. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to serving, and to bringing that sweet holy peace home with me tonight. My temple bag is by the door. Ditto an insulated shopping bag, for the individual cups of Blue Bell I will be picking up in an hour and a half, when I get the cupcakes. My knitting bag and my purse are still in the rocker, and I have no idea what I’m taking for lunch today. Maybe the last stuffed tomato and that wee chunk of manchego with a sleeve of Ritz crackers. Yesterday’s carrots are still uneaten in the fridge at work.

The alarm just went off, for the umpteenth time. Have I mentioned that while I cherish my husband, I loathe the snooze button? One of these days when it scares the dickens out of me (for the umpteenth time), I am just going to reach back and snatch it off the desk and pitch it out the window, over his head. One more thing for the yappy little dog next door to get excited about.

The squirrels have eaten every peach off our tree. Beloved has been muttering about humane traps and squirrel stew for the past several days. (Squirrel stew: not exactly on my bucket list. Just sayin’.)

Yesterday’s fishing trip was enjoyable but rather unproductive. One fish, and I’m not sure if it was his, or his grandson’s. They were off the lake by 10:00, as it’s hotter than the hinges of Houston lately. I am so glad that I took his counsel and got the A/C fixed in Lorelai last year. I go from our air-conditioned house to my air-conditioned car to my air-conditioned office, and except for the stretch in the parking garage at quitting time, or the dash from the car to our front door, I have to take it on faith that it’s miserable out there.

My thoughts are skittering around like drops of water on a griddle. Must be time to send down some protein after those delicious carbs. I would really rather just turn off the lights and go back to bed. Beloved is not-quite-snoring, three feet behind me, and I’ve been up for nearly three hours. I suspect it’s going to be another Cherry Coke day.

I am grateful.

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