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!

Friday, July 19, 2013

Call from the mortgage people.

They need two more pieces of paperwork. And I knew which folder they were in. And found said folder quite easily. One item is printed on that slick, shiny paper and quite faded. I do not think it will fax well. The other is on regular paper and is marginally more readable.  But I happen to work at a place where I may scan them, or ask a friend to, and then email them.

The disclosures are nearly ready for my signature. I have the option of having them emailed to me and then faxing them back. But I told him that I am just sufficiently old fashioned that I would like to meet him and shake his hand. Buying a house is a Big Deal in this woman's book. Even if essentially it is an amazingly uncomplicated refinance of an existing mortgage.

When the children's father and I bought our house in Irving, it took ten days from start to finish. Unheard of at the time. And we felt very blessed for that. I wonder if it will take even less time for this house?

I'm fine if it doesn't. I waited so long to get sealed to Beloved, and to get the last of the paperwork for the estate, that waiting to close on the house is a non-issue. (Well, so far. That could change.)

In knitting news, I've begun the serious increases on the sleeves. And I've come to another knot in the yarn. One of the few things I dislike about Noro is the frequency of knots in a premium yarn. Another is their tendency to grab a strand that doesn't match. For a yarn whose beauty comes from long, gradual color transitions, this is jarring. So now I need to undo the knot, plug in my Ott-Lite, and start comparing ends on the remaining balls of yarn. When I would much rather be eating breakfast.

Hrmph.

It's Friday. Huzzah! And I am working overtime tomorrow (most of the support staff will be) to knock out a special project. That should give me the rest of the money for my banjo. And it will not be an all day project. So I will be able to attend the 65th birthday party of a friend I thought was younger than I. (Clean living, people. Clean living and good genetics.)

Squishy went with me to field-test new chairs for the dining room. Found them at World Market. They won't be coming home with me anytime soon. Not until the painting is done and the flooring replaced. But they are solid: mahogany-stained acacia, and I like their lines.

There were some gorgeous chairs at Pier One, but those were lightweights. Unbraced Queen Anne legs are my favorite, aesthetically, but there are few of us on either side of the tribe who would not make short work of such delicacy. I want chairs that are likely to outlast me. And I plan on being here another 40 years.

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