About Me

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Ten years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.

Friday, September 27, 2013

When the going gets tough...

Some of the tough go shopping. I've chosen that solution in the past. It was my response to the breakup of my second marriage and the need to express myself in a horrible apartment that I wasn't ready to leave. As if decorating it meant that we weren't living one step up from "the projects".

I have very few objects left from that time.

The giant Christmas tree bought and assembled just before midnight on Christmas Eve stood, largely undecorated, in a corner of the living room until we moved a year and a half later. I gave that to the apartment manager.

The red and pink glass candlesticks got donated to charity when I was living in Fort Worth. I gave all but my favorite holiday decorations to ward members while living there.

Beloved was astounded at how much stuff I had in that small duplex. Vertical storage. I made the most of every inch. And I made it work.

My current vision is to have everything I need for daily living, and for my multifaceted creative life, pared down and impeccably organized, so I don't leave a mess for the kids.

At this moment, there is food storage scattered throughout the house, the natural result of merging three households. A case of canning jars under one of the wicker chairs in the living room. A #10 can of butter powder in the dining room closet. The vast majority of the food storage filling one wall in the middle bedroom from floor to ceiling. Before he passed, Beloved organized those cases by type and age so we could rotate the contents effectively. Open #10 cans in use on the shelves in the kitchen. A pantry containing who knows what. I think eventually it will hold cookie sheets and the like.

So shopping was not the answer for the current crisis. As much fun as it is to find just the right thing for "that corner over there," the phrase no room at the inn is understatement so profound as to provoke peals of helpless laughter. Which is wonderful for the immune system. And I'm thankful.

Yesterday I just needed to have Beloved hold me while I cried. I did have a good little weep while washing my hair. (Because I am a woman and excel at multitasking.) And a lighter cry while driving to work. Both of which helped somewhat. But they weren't him.

So I went to the temple, and I did for someone what she could not do for herself, and as I sat waiting for the session to begin I could feel that holy peace descending opon me. I could turn my head to one side or another with less pain and stiffness. Some of that stayed with me overnight.

As an aside, do you have any idea how much you use your shoulder and neck muscles when getting up out of bed? Not pretty. Not as bad as yesterday. But still not pretty.

Mellow is at the State Fair today. I got our answer that was due on Monday out in the mail. Yesterday I got another one due on Monday, this time for SemperFi. No question what I will be doing today.

Tonight there is a doll meet after work. I haven't been to one in over a year. Much as I love Fourthborn, I will not be swinging by to pick her up after work and then driving to Plano, back to Arlington, and then home. I have not been home any night this week. I am going to eat pizza, ooh and ahh over others' dolls, visit a little, then come home and crash.

Tomorrow is the annual Relief Society broadcast. Can't wait! That will do me more good than a thousand weeps.

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