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, September 07, 2014

Pain and progress

Our great personal challenge in mortality is to become "a saint through the atonement of Christ." The pain you and I experience may be where this process is most measured. - Kent F. Richards, The Atonement Covers All Pain, Apr 2011

And the lesser stuff as well. For the better part of a week I have been playing reindeer games with my respiratory system. Not sure if it's allergies or a cold, because I've been doctoring myself with OTC medicines with varying degrees of success. The loratidine did nothing. I tried it for two days before acquiring some generic Mucinex, which has slowly but steadily been making inroads. I will have to go see a doctor before returning to work, because I missed two straight days (not a problem), went back to work on Friday, and got sent back home (problem).

The rule is, if you're out three days, you need a note from your doctor. I see this as the adult equivalent of a note from your mother, verifying that you were not playing hooky. I understand that many people abuse their company's sick pay policy. I am not one of them. I have to be barely able to walk (or breathe) before I will stay home. Yes, if I have a fever. Yes, if I'm throwing up (sorry).

Ferris Bueller I am not. I pride myself on keeping going, even when the going gets tough. It's what I do. It's who I am.

My office manager took one look at me and said Go. Home. So I did. Am I physically better off because I did? Possibly. Probably. Am I a little bit cranky because I will have to shell out $30 for a copayment before I can go back to work? Because this might not be just the usual fall allergies? Who goes to the doctor for a cold?

Me, apparently. But I don't have to like it.

Thankfully, I do have the money. And good insurance. And a doctor I love and trust.

Rant over. Happier stuff. The doll sweater for Mel's Jimmy is done, and I hope she will be as pleased with it as I am. Like the one I made for Middlest's Doran, a miniature Aran of many cables knitted on ridiculously small needles. I am midway up the front for a sweater for my Temperance, who is the doll I've had longest without making anything for her. I'm incorporating design elements from the first two sweaters. Honor's sweater will probably be next. I'll do Steadfast's (working title) last, both because he's the newest and because I will want something relatively uncomplicated after designing around Blessing's curves.

The ultimate goal is for all of them to have Aran sweaters, proper kilts if I can find a miniature tartan I like, kilt socks for the ones with human feet, and proper shoes or boots. Middlest designed a sporran pattern for Steadfast, and sooner or later I will be cannibalizing my leather jacket, which is now too large and practically loved to death. There should be enough good leather for me to perfect several pairs of shoes. Not to mention give me knowledge about authentic historical Scots footwear.

Please, Brer Fox, don't throw me in the textile patch!

In other happy news, there is visible progress on the Eternal Painting Project which is my home. I finally ma'amhandled the obstreperous doorknob off my bedroom door. (Inspiration, tin-snips, and both kinds of screwdriver. Miraculously, no childbirth words.) As well as the polite one from the door to the middle bedroom. Both doors are repainted on the hall side, and I am pleased. I have masked four of the five doorways, preparatory to painting the trim. And I got all of the baseboards up and the nails removed. And the grilles off the intake slots beneath the closet where the water heater lives. And the bits of wall painted which we deliberately left undone on Labor Day weekend, to either side of the grilles.

Do I feel frustrated at all that hasn't been done, because I've been sick? Yes, a little. But then I look at what I've accomplished this year, on my own or with Fourthborn's help, and I am so pleased. It's very much a line upon line process.

I would love to have the hall well and truly done by the end of the month. Ceiling painted, flooring down, new handles on all the doors, bookcases in place, art hung or rehung. Done. And the living room done in time for Christmas.

Next year? The really scary stuff. Kitchen and maybe even the garage.

And now if you will kindly excuse me, FB  and popcorn are calling my name.

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