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!

Monday, November 10, 2014

Feeling a little like a bum.

But not in the British sense. Took Secondborn her finished fingerless gloves after church. The Bitties reprised their Primary sacrament meeting parts for me. And Secondborn helped me extract my home dec photos from various Facebook posts and toss them into an album. I wouldn't say they are exactly *organized*. But they are now in one spot. I can go back on some mythical "someday" and tidy them up. Or not.

I also responded to a bajillion messages that had been piling up since FB introduced its messenger program and I opted not to install it on my phone.

By the time I got home, took my Rx, and got ready for bed, it was 11:30, and me with no nap. So I pushed the alarm back an hour. And woke around the usual time, laughing a little at the irony of it.

No gym for me this morning, hence the title of this post. I will cheerfully walk up the stairs from the parking garage and try to move around as much as possible while at work.

Dinner tonight with the Empty Nesters. And then home to paint some more. I didn't touch a roller all weekend, so I'm hoping that a divide and conquer plan like last week's will get me where I want to be at the end of the week. I have RS tomorrow night, and I'm looking forward to that.

If I seek first the Kingdom, all the other stuff will either fall into place or fall off the list. I spent yesterday morning putting together the packets for my VT route. And I determined that the reason one of last month's envelopes came back was because we don't have an apartment number for her.

So I drove to the complex and dropped the packet with a note through the mail slot where folks drop their rent. And followed it up with a voicemail to the management office explaining what I had done and why and asking them to call me if she is no longer a resident, knowing that they could not or would not give out her apartment number.

We'll see how that goes. I'm hoping that maintenance will tape it to her door or something. I didn't put a stamp on it, so it might go right in the trash.

If that doesn't work, I'm thinking four postcards or notes, each with the address and a possible apartment number. There are four units in her building, and I am nothing if not persistent. If I mail four and three come back as undeliverable...

In knitting news, I cast on for Sarah's first fingerless glove yesterday and got part of the first row on the second section done. I'm on a roll. Why stop now?

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