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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!

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Woohoo! Tuesday!

I was hoping for a nice, quiet evening at home, and that is pretty much what I got. Pan-grilled salmon, mashed potatoes, buttery carrots steamed to perfection, cantaloupe, salad, and once that had settled, half of the last bit of Sunday’s blackberry cobbler. No TV, after we turned off the news at dinnertime. I finished reading the last ten or so pages of that book, and then I knitted, and I was in bed a little after nine.

I’ve decided against Knit Night tonight, and I’ve changed my mind about attending the World Wide Knit in Public Day activity with my knitting group on Saturday. I had a total blast last year, and I’m sure I would enjoy it every bit as much this year, but I just want to chill at home with my hubby all week, as much as possible, and get our home/visiting teaching done next week, because the week after that is the family reunion on Beloved’s side. Some of his ancestors were early settlers in East Texas, and the reunion is being held in Dallas this year, instead of closer to where they settled. I am looking forward to this, and I am thankful it is being held in a hotel, not outside under a tree in the middle of August.

Because we know how I am about the great outdoors.

I promised you a story. I came home Friday night from card-shopping in multiple senses, and as Beloved was still wrangling his mom and her stuff home from the airport, I made a pot of risotto to suit my own taste. Beloved had left me a sweet note on the computer monitor, letting me know (among other things) that there were chicken breasts and leftover peach cobbler thawing in the kitchen, and that the Primary secretary had dropped off my lesson manual and notebook. Closing with mushy stuff, which I am not going to share.

I grabbed an orange highlighter and scribbled the following response on the back, then put it on the floor between his chair and the hall: “[Mushy stuff]. There is very mild risotto in the fridge. One large container for you to desecrate season as you choose. Three small for my lunch...”

He thought that was pretty funny, and he enjoyed tarting up his portion of the risotto with pepper and who knows what else.

I am on the home stretch on the first back section for the pillow cover, and I am coming down with a really bad case of finish-itis. It was hard to choose between blogging and knitting, but if I hurry up and inhale breakfast, I can knit another couple of rows before the mad scramble to get ready for work.

Uh-oh, Beloved is up. I can hear his wheels turning. I have a feeling that I just lost control of my morning. Also that I don’t [much] care, because we have such great adventures together. Happy Tuesday, everybody!

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