A-hem!

No, I am not clearing my throat. Yesterday I spent virtually all of my knitting time in stitching up the hem on this new sweater. Three hundred fifty-eight stitches. Finish work like this is something I generally dread, and now I have this bit of it out of the way. I just finished a pattern row and am anticipating the next five rounds of essentially mindless knitting.

Work went well yesterday. I finished one small project, dealt with Friday’s mail, transcribed a report for my attorney, and basically kept my shoulder to the wheel and my nose to the grindstone. It’s a little hard to type in that position, but I’m used to it, right?

Beloved is fishing with his best buddy. It has been too long since he went; I think this day will do wonders to improve his already way-better-than-average morale. As they say, a bad day fishing is better than a good day [something; I forget what]. He didn’t sleep all that well, and he’s a little short of breath. We think it’s just fall allergies, but I asked him to run that by his doctor on Thursday. I think we should check him for asthma, and maybe a sleep study, although the vision of him wrangling a CPAP mask and the chemo pump and the multiple trips to the loo during the night, is a darkly humorous one.

Y’all? if you are not already old, you will get there soon enough. Take care of the body you have. You won’t be getting another, at least not until the resurrection. A little wisdom and forethought (wisdom being one of those things we acquire through lack of forethought) may not guarantee you a problem-free middle age, but it just might minimize some of the indignities that come with aging. And if not, at least you will have the comfort of knowing you did the best you could with the information, and body, that you had.

I have a sudden craving for broccoli. That’s a little scary.

I spent a little time this morning preparing to pay bills on Friday. I think (I hope) that this month will have fewer spendy surprises than last. I have already picked up all but one of the gift cards we need, and I’ll take care of that one this weekend. All the birthday cards but one are signed and addressed and awaiting either a stamp or a personal visit. So this is what being a grownup feels like?

I realized with some amusement that one of the tote bags that Beloved’s mother left us is the right size and color to serve as my fall/winter purse. Last night I transferred her skincare products out of it (and the samples into my bathroom) and tossed my daily junk into it and put the old purse into the trash. That purse was $10 well spent. Now I just need to save up to buy a nice, sensible leather purse, the kind I used to be able to buy for $5 when I was a kid, but which now cost $150.

Gilda was right: it’s always something.