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!

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Tuesday is trash day.

The old baseboards have been divested of their nails and are waiting on the curb. My wonderful neighbor cut the new ones yesterday. I've nailed two in place and moved the armoire into the corner and unfurled the area rug.* The drop leaf table and lamps are back in place. I baked a pan of lasagna and took it across the street. One of the three bookcases in the hall has been emptied, moved into the space that the armoire vacated, and refilled.

*Which I love, but not necessarily for the dining room. I think it might be more suitable for the living room.

What I think needs to get done by Tuesday morning: empty and move the other two bookcases. Pull up the carpet in both halls and schlep it to the curb. Remove the old baseboards. Remove the nails from the old baseboards. Pull up the tack strips. Put the bag of small baseboard scraps, pulled nails, and short lengths of tack strips on the curb.

And today is the Sabbath. I love the Sabbath. I want to honor it. I need a day between today and Monday, preferably one that nobody else knows about. Because I don't see anything on my list that doesn't come under the heading of work.

The one thing I could do, is grab some paper bags and put them by the bookcases. There's a whole lot of non-book stuff that got put in there at one time or another.** I just looked at it. Made me tired. Dividing the keep from the donate from the trash would definitely come under the heading of work. But I can gather up bags and be prepared for a more appropriate time.

**What was the handle for my mandoline doing in there? Do I even still have my mandoline, or did I give it away in an earlier purge?

I am ravenous. I didn't eat breakfast until afternoon. And I was too tired to fix dinner for myself after making the lasagna for my neighbors, so I just drove out to recycle the water bottles and picked up Arby's on the way home. I ate breakfast an hour ago, and my stomach is yelling that my throat's been cut.

Fixing that is definitely a Sabbath appropriate activity. If the rest of it is done by trash pickup a week from Tuesday, it is still forward progress.

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