I slept a lot this weekend. Not the desperate sleep which is the hallmark of depression. Just a wonderful series of catnaps. And reasonably decent sleep when it came time for that.
I love the feeling of being in-harness with Beloved. We are getting ready to revise our wills. We are talking about hard things. We are working towards solutions of long-term problems, together. I love this man. I love his goodness, his decency, his humor, his wit, and his willingness to negotiate. For starters.
And I love that for the first time in many years, there is another adult in the house to share in the decision making.
There is so much that I wish I could say, but this is not the time nor the place. I am not unused to writing so briefly, but for the moment my thoughts and energy are needed elsewhere. I may need to haul out one of my paper journals in the meantime, because I think best when I am writing things down.
In knitting news, I thought I was done with the sleeve increases, but I checked my gauge, which is easier and more accurate on a sleeve than on that gauge swatch I worked. I am one stitch tighter and one row shorter than the specified gauge, so I am going to have to knit the next larger size and shorten the sweater body to ensure that I do not run out of yarn. I think 150 rows will just about give me the sleeve length I am looking for.
There is one last brownie out in the kitchen, leftover from Saturday dinner. It has my name on it. And it is about to meet its doom.
- 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!