Objets trouvees.

(Sorry. Can't insert the proper accents from my phone.) Yesterday I retrieved a few of my marbles, by attacking the paper glacier that has been stealthily growing in the doorway to my closet.

I found two umbrellas, now hanging in the hall closet. An earring that had escaped my grasp while being dropped into its pocket on the accessories organizer which hangs from one of the bifold doors to my closet. My Relief Society manual, missing for the past three weeks.

Half a dozen plastic shopping bags that had slithered down into the mix and will be joining their cousins in the pantry on my next foray into the kitchen. The paperwork supporting my 2013 tax return. The programs from Carmen and last week's hockey game.

Several books I had begun reading but lost interest in. A sheaf of old church manuals belonging to Beloved or his late wife. The sheet music for "The Green Days of Summer," a beautiful song from my childhood that was featured in The Alamo and was one of Beloved's favorite songs.

I told him, "Honey, I found that sheet music you had wondered about." I am taking it with me to my banjo lesson, to see if my teacher has it transcribed. And if not I will ask him to do so. I would like to learn to play it for Beloved.

My room looks a lot better now. Not perfect, but far more navigable. And my head feels clearer. I am going to reward myself by creating two or three scrapbook pages. Beloved gave me a beautiful red scrapbook for Christmas, right before we married. I've done nothing with it, except to keep it safe for two years, and to step around the bag which holds it when I go into my studio. So much of the past few years does not lend itself to being captured in 12" square segments and put into a book.

In knitting news, I began binding off the enormously long infinity scarf while at the General Women's Conference last night. I will make more progress while at church later today.

I finished reading the third Harry Potter about half an hour ago. The fourth is out on an ottoman in the living room, waiting patiently for its turn.

I'm really glad that church and obedience and the like are still important to me. The video that was part of last night's broadcast quietly undid me. One of the young(ish) moms was sitting next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. I whispered, "Sometimes it just comes up out of nowhere." She nodded. I whispered again, "And the music never helps." She nodded again. I don't know what griefs she has borne, but her face is too wise for there not to have been any. I'm just grateful that she was so kind. She's not one of my close friends, but last night she was God's hands to me.