Window's done. Curtains are up.

After work I picked up some tiebacks. They need a little embellishment, and I have some ideas. I'm thinking small silk tiger lilies if I can find them in a soft orange. I'll be at Hobby Lobby tomorrow night to pick up the print and will see what's available.

The Duncan Phyfe game table is in the window. The two small lamps that I bought about ten years ago are on it. The shades need the merest hint of embellishment. And I need to rewire the wall socket, because only one of the plugs works. I found a painting that I bought not long after the divorce, that has the colors in the embroidery on the curtains. Not sure where it wants to go.

I'm not ready to decorate-decorate, not until the flooring is down and the new baseboards are in place, but I'm having fun thinking of what might look good in there and trying a few small things out.

I'm sorely tempted to dash out to the dining room and put one last coat of paint on that doorway, but I think I will just turn off the lights and lie down until the urge passes. I really don't want to be up until midnight.

Plan Q?

After Thursday, I wanted four days of relative peace and quiet. Instead I hung out with Firstborn and Secondborn and Lark and two of their friends after work on Friday. Knitted a little but mostly ate and laughed. They sent me home with the first two seasons of Psych.

Yesterday morning I puttered. Prepared a craft project for some gluing. Added a second coat of paint on some of the trim in the dining room. Read the lesson I'm subbing in RS today (the regular teacher had a death in the family).

In the afternoon I attended SemperFi's daughter's ballet recital then drove like a bat out of Houston to have dinner with the widows and widowers group. Was briefly tempted to resume painting but opted to read, instead. My salad last night was as big as my head! I could barely fit the leftovers into the to-go container. So we know what's on the menu today. And tomorrow. And possibly Tuesday.

I put a bright pink post-it on the bathroom mirror last night to remind myself to get dressed before heading out to the kitchen.  Curtains are still down in the dining room. I'm hoping that when I go back to work on Wednesday, the trim will be finished and I will have the new (old, dating back to the penultimate apartment) curtain rod up and the peacock curtains pressed and hanging. Next step after that would be the acquisition and painting of new, taller baseboards. At which point I think I would finally be ready to rip up the carpet and go to town with the vinyl planks.

But first I need to eat breakfast and work on the RS lesson. I am so enjoying the feeling of coming unstuck.

Having a wild case of the Mondays.

I think my uterus may have a case of metaphor-itis. After last night's massage, we did a little energy work. Determined that the mysterious inflammation that we haven't been able to pin down, is related to both my uterus and my diabetes. Period. (I crack myself up!)

I'm hoping that means that fixing whatever is wrong with my uterus and losing enough weight that I no longer need to take Metformin, will eradicate the inflammation, and I can just be middle aged crabby instead.

I wouldn't say I am exactly worried. More like trying to think of all the ways this could play out and figuring out what to do in each scenario. I wish I didn't have to wait a month to find out. I have vacation and banjo camp ahead of me, and I'm hoping that when I do have a diagnosis it won't mess with either.

I'm going to the temple tonight. Maybe that will slow my brain down to Heaven Standard Time.

Some news.

The sonogram shows a thickened endometrium. I spent an hour and a half on the phone today, talking with multiple offices. But I now have an appointment in four weeks with Sarah's GYN. And I have a good feeling about this doctor and about her staff. There may be a biopsy in my future. And probably another incident of spotting between now and then.

So it was not a particularly productive day at work, and tomorrow morning is the monthly staff meeting, but I did at least get a new case opened for SemperFi. Plus official word that I will be losing half of Mellow's docket to one of the new secretaries. Serious bummer, that.

On the way home from Knit Night, I stopped to tank Lorelai. And witnessed a guy back into another car. And gave the second driver a note with my contact information. Just got off the phone with him. First driver wouldn't give his insurance information until the cop showed up and made him. Second driver told me that the other guy said he rear-ended him.

Liar liar bumper on fire. And I will be happy to give a recorded statement to that effect.

Taking my still slightly crabby self off to bed now.

Still waiting.

I should hear back on the ultrasound in the next couple of days. In the meantime I've paid bills and taken my new print to be framed. I've also ordered a bag of Scrabble tiles to finish a craft project. I had the option of spending 50 cents to a dollar per tile to get just the ones that I needed, or spending a few dollars more for a complete set. They've already shipped. I love eBay. I did have to reset my password, because it had been so long since I'd bought anything.

I am nearly half done with the black cashmere cowl from my birthday yarn. My rings are cleaned and inspected. I had planned to spend most of the day at home, making music and puttering, but I opted to spend a swathe of it at Firstborn's. Helped her wash windows, which is about the only housework task that I deeply and genuinely enjoy.

They have French doors leading to the deck, and new curtains that are going up. Lark has been living on campus for two years. Willow and her two cats have been living with Firstborn and 1BDH. On Friday the girls moved into their own place, taking critters and the old living room furniture.

Firstborn has been deep cleaning, as Secondborn is moderately allergic to Willow's cats, and BittyBubba is deathly allergic (and shows signs of developing Fourthborn's mordant wit; he remarked drily at last weekend's party for LittleBit that they were going to see if Mom survived, and if she did they would see if it's now OK for him to visit; he's six).

So the kids have a new sofa and love seat. This new one is so much easier to get up from! And a cleverly designed coffee table that converts into something of a desk, with a top that rises and oodles of storage space underneath. I might have to check into that. And new curtains, as the cats had had their way with the old ones. Hence the need to give the windows some loving care.

On the home front, I bought a can of replacement paint for the one that got rusty. So there is an increasing chance of my finishing the dining room within my lifetime. LittleBit cannot drive until she has been seizure free for six months. And I am unwilling to make two round trips to fetch her and take her home so that she may work off a small debt that she owes me.

Looks like it's back to me. I want to have that done so I may rip up the carpet in there and put down the vinyl plank flooring and move in the furniture and start using that room for its intended purpose. And then I can move on to the living room.

Right now I just want to curl up and take a nap. I can see in my mind's eye the finished dining room, with the new curtains up, the table set for company, and pictures on the walls. The reality of what is left to do to get there? Intermittently daunting.

Baby steps. And it's time to start moving forward again in that aspect of my life. Even though I would rather read or make music or knit. I have the right to live in a home that serves my purpose and my talents. I miss hosting small dinner parties.

Speaking of which, I met my friend Sooz, who lives in Hawaii but is visiting stateside, for dinner last night. We talked for four and a half hours. There is something deeply satisfying about listening to an author read from her own work. And comparing notes on dating misadventures until we met our respective husbands.

I have a four day weekend, next weekend. Maybe I will get some stuff done around here.

You know that toddler?

The one who drops her towel as soon as you lift her out of the bathtub and heads straight for the great outdoors? That was my left ovary this afternoon.

Ultrasound has changed since I was birthing babies. Significantly so. What I remember is a mouse(ish) object, body surfing across my belly on a tidal wave of KY jelly.

Not today. There was a wand with a camera, and it was following the Star Trek injunction to boldly go where no man has gone (in something over a year). My rebellious ovary was taking evasive action and generally managing to stay out of camera range. Presumably my right ovary was sitting primly in its chair, knees together, socks pulled up, reading Jane Austen and munching on an apple.

I don't know how long I was there, staring up at the holes in the acoustic tile and wishing for a poster of Sean Connery. Possibly as little as fifteen minutes, but it felt like the song that does not end. It didn't exactly hurt, but I've had more fun getting my teeth cleaned.

While I was getting dressed, I looked at the images on the monitor. They might as well have been written in reformed Egyptian. Little grainy truncated cones. Random dots of blue on a handful of them.

I'm dreaming of a blue cervix, just like the ones I used to know. (The cervix of a woman who is pregnant for the first time, turns blue because of all the new blood vessels.)

After I left the facility, I was tired and felt a little violated. So I called a friend to see if I could get a drive-by hugging. I could. And I did. And I feel much better. Dinner helped, too. Leftovers from Empty Nesters. And a single square of Ghirardelli, whereas if I could still eat anything I liked, dinner would have been a pint of Ben and Jerry.

I should have the results in a few days. In the meantime, I'm going to knit and make music.

Ultrasound tomorrow.

I'll let you know if they find any feral dust bunnies.

Doctor said that whatever this is, it's almost certainly not due to the Metformin.

Stellar evening at Knit Night. Too tired to practice either instrument, but I sang myself home.

Very happy. Peaceful. Good night!

Looooong day(s).

Woke up at 6:00 yesterday and headed straight to the gym. Then home to sluice off and change. Drove to Fort Worth, parked at the college, took the shuttle to the convention center, and left there five hours later. Drove straight to Lucile's for lobster bisque and a side Caesar. Put some gas in Lorelai and drove to Arlington. Hung out at Barnes and Noble until time to pick up Fourthborn for the tribal feast. Ate and visited, visited and ate. Took Fourthborn home. Got home around 10:00 after picking up water and guacamole. Too tired to practice my music. Went to bed and slept for nine hours. Got up this morning and played Olive for 45 minutes. Read the scheduled RS lesson (entirely forgetting about the visiting teaching conference). Sang "The Water is Wide". A lot. Played too long on FB. Was just barely on time to church. This year's Mother's Day talks were not painful. And the young men handed out (big) Ghirardelli bars afterwards. Sarah hadn't seen me, so she snagged one for me. If I am ridiculously self-disciplined, I now have enough for the better part of three weeks. A week and a half or two weeks is more likely. HT/VT couple came over. I've put in some time with the banjo. And am now trying to stay awake until the time I normally take my Metformin and go to bed.

Good news, no news.

I am officially down 20 pounds. My doctor and I are both ecstatic. My BP was 120/73. Normal for most people and still a little high for me. But moving in the right direction.

We are scheduling a sonogram to see if my uterus has been invaded by aliens or polyps or feral dust bunnies.

This could be any one of a bajillion things,  most of which are perfectly benign. Pretty sure it's not cancer, from the energy work after Wednesday's massage.

Came home and had a salad. Am now noshing on hummus and a (very) few Ritz crackers. And then I'm going to take a catnap. My friend Trish is coming over tonight, and we are going to sing.

Tomorrow? Gym at dark-thirty. And LittleBit gets her associates degree. Twenty years younger than her mother did.

Woohoos all around!

Seeing the doc on Friday.

Spoke with a female diabetic friend, who told me to call my doctor, ASAP. So I did. Two minutes after their phone lines closed for the day. When I finally got through this morning, the nurse had lots of questions for me. Am I exhausted? Tired, yes, but not exhausted. Any other weird symptoms? Nothing that comes to mind. Write down what I remember and bring it with me. All printed out.

She apologized that there's no room at the inn until Friday. Since she didn't tell me to hie myself to the ER, I feel confident that this is annoying but not life threatening. *Deeply* annoying. Hope it doesn't happen again next month annoying. Telemarketer calling when you're making dinner annoying.

I can't take Benadryl because it accelerated my menses (when I had them).

I sense a theme here.

If you find them, I don't want them back.

Six pounds. Gone since Friday. No idea how that happened. May have something to do with the weeping yesterday, which was partially due to Fast and Testimony meeting and perhaps rather more to do with what I suspect is a side effect of the Metformin. I have had four micro-mini periods since the end of February. And they're getting less micro. I consulted the Google and Thummim after church. For fertile women, Metformin can cause menorrhagia (heavy or constant periods). I had been Red Fairy free for five or six years. Definitely taking this up with my doctor when I see her later this month. I'm not consuming soybeans (that I'm aware of), so it's not a case of plant estrogens getting meddlesome.

I really don't want two days of weeping and one day of aching, every month for the next 40 years. Thankfully, the cramps have not resumed, nor are the girls tender. Just that pervasive heavy ache in my lower abdomen, which has mercifully passed.

I hope there is a simple fix for this. Yes, it's lovely to have lost 20 pounds and be barreling toward 25. But I'd rather lose it more slowly and feel good and be happy.

Time to wash my fork and get back to work.

A good Saturday.

I obediently and gratefully went to the stake RS meeting yesterday morning. The theme was "running a spiritual 5K". There were five classes and enough time to pick three. Interesting experience in one of them. No revelations. No tender tears.

The speaker was sincere. The topic was clearly and thoughtfully presented. And I felt ... nothing. *Obviously* not her fault. I wondered afterwards if I was supposed to be in that class to support her and not to learn or confirm anything for myself.

If so, I hope she got what she needed. I certainly don't regret being there. Skipped the luncheon to drive to Carrollton to pick up the next quilt block, hug Firstborn and Fourthborn, and come back home for a nap which was not too long and not too short. Just right!

I am up to 40 minutes on Olive at each practice and ready to tack on another five. By the end of the month I hope to be practicing her for an hour a day and to have gotten into the second volume of lessons. I am working on C# now. It is nowhere near as difficult as high E was.

I may need to flip the order in which I practice, because I am barely managing half an hour on the banjo and am not progressing as quickly as I would like. Although I am progressing. Maybe if I alternate days as I did when trying to decide between Olive and the rosewood recorder? And maybe I need more weight training for my arms. My biceps are still my weakest muscles. My triceps are probably next in line.

I am about a third of the way into HP7. So glad that I decided to reread the series. I am also working through five back issues of Real Simple that a friend from work gave me. I used to be a subscriber. The recipes are frequently amazing. I learn something in every issue. And I cannot help being amused at a magazine that promotes a simpler lifestyle and is propelled by advertising. I wonder how its ratio of editorial content to advertising compares to, say, Vogue?

I am so thankful that I do not need a $500 feather trimmed skirt to wear to the holiday parties I do not attend. A $500 skirt would buy three Chutzpahs. Or 2+ of my car-payment totes, at retail. (I am quite sure that the corporation gets them at a significant discount.)

Speaking of which, I rather like the tether extending from an inside seam. I keep my key ring attached to that, and there's room to add the Tardis' key when I am driving that. Somebody's mommy came up with that idea.

Firstborn broached a concept yesterday after giving her fashionista seal of approval for the tote. I should get a smaller purse, and carry both? I am trying to wrap my mind around that. If I am lugging the necessities in my bag, and I have a separate, highly decorative insulated lunch bag, wouldn't a smaller, more conventional purse be overkill? What would I put in it?

I will admit that that ridiculously expensive caramel leather bag I saw in the ad last year or the year before, is still hanging out in the back of my mind. I'm not exactly proud of the fact.

Oh, and Firstborn also instructed me to register my bag, so that if it ever needs repair I can ship it off and have it fixed or replaced. I kept the paperwork when I opened the box last week. Now I guess I know why.

I'm going to knit a little, in the hope of rebalancing myself. Oye to the veh.

Comma chameleon. And bag ladies.

I love puns. (You may have noticed.) The goofier the better. There was a meme on FB day before yesterday: five bright green punctuation marks followed by a lizard. Flashback to the 80's. I got an earworm. Tan apparently got a headache, for which I am sorry, and I hope that this reference doesn't fire up another one.

In other silliness, two of my work friends who are far more chic than I, noticed my bag at lunch yesterday. They both laughed at my "that's not a bag, that's a car payment" response. It probably doesn't qualify as the world's most expensive knitting bag. The problem (for me) in carrying a designer bag is that for forty years I have read about the Nephites and their intermittent love of fine clothing.

I do love pretty clothing. Always have. Used to make all my own, with designer touches, until it made sense to buy it because I no longer had the time to do it properly, and my shape had changed so much that the patterns required significant alterations. There is very little outstanding clothing made for women my size.

Where was I?

The older I get, the simpler my needs are becoming. I have enough stuff (mostly). I need a small amount of stuff to lug around the stuff I use on a daily basis. I need stuff to cover my nakedness. I need stuff to feed mind, body, and spirit.

The paycheck/bonus is nearly all spent. I paid bills. I went to dinner. I ordered two prints, one for the dining room and one for Firstborn's birthday. I paid for the trainfare portion of my upcoming vacation. There were way more wants than there were needs. I'm fine with that. I know the difference. I have enough left for food and gas and the next massage.

I think it's funny and sad that we compare ourselves to one another. Especially for something as silly as a few square feet of dead animal skin. Providence and a modicum of self discipline have improved my finances to the point that I probably don't need to worry about becoming a bag lady. I hope I never confuse my value as a child of God with my value by worldly measure.

I hope I never become a Bag lady.