About Me

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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!

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Tuesday update.

I got the furniture moved Sunday night, or more accurately, Monday morning. And last night I combined, alphabetized, and culled duplicates from our DVD collection. I am not quite ready to tackle the VHSs we still have hanging about, nor to organize our CDs. But those items are definitely on the list.

I mentioned that the side effects are kicking in. The left side of Beloved’s face is tingly and numb, like his hands and feet. Does this make him officially half a numbskull? Says he, Ha ha. Kissing a man whose face is half numb is an interesting proposition.

He is sleeping a lot. Not so much during the night; that’s still in 15-20 minute increments, but he’s getting some good naps in during the day. So naturally, he’s frustrated that he’s not getting anything checked off his self-imposed honey-do list, but I’m taking it as a sign that the chemo is working.

I have completed two pattern repeats, and the first set of decreases, on the sweater body. And that, my friends, is basically all the news that’s fit to print chez Ravelled. I am pleased to report that I did not injure myself moving the furniture around (notwithstanding the fact that I was bending the Sabbath like you would not believe); I will concede, however, that I am getting a little old for this. Doesn’t mean I have any intention of stopping.

This is the part where I look at the clock, gasp where has the time gone? and leap into my morning routine.

P.S. I fixed those broken links in yesterday’s post. Thank you, Secondborn.

1 comment:

AlisonH said...

Best wishes to you and Beloved and all who hold you both dear. Hope to see you next week, if that doesn't take time away from him. He comes first. (Heck, I want to meet him, but I'm trying not to be selfish.)