This is where we were on Wednesday night.

The ugly old commode, out on the street.

The nekkid (this is Texas; that's a word) shower stall, waiting for redemption.

The wallboard torn up, behind where the new commode will go.

It looks a whole lot better than that now, but my phone is in the charger, and I'm trying to get back to sleep. I lay down for maybe half an hour, and my right calf was twitching, and my right neck was thinking about a charley horse, and I kept drifting into half-dreams where people were holding puppies that might have been possums. So I decided it was better to get up, fix myself a snack, and wait for some semblance of normal to roll around.

I got bushwhacked by a first cousin twice removed. There are now 3101 people on my family tree, and over 12,000 hints, and the Millenium, when communication between Them and Us is supposedly going to be easier, cannot come a moment too soon. This was one of the daughters of my great grandmother Sarah's brother Jacob. I think if she were still mortal, she would be extremely internet savvy, because she figured out a way to hijack a records notification in my email that linked to someone on my surname line. There are so many people, and so many records for them, that I can't work on them more than a couple of hours without getting physically wiped out. The good news is, several other somebodies are working these lines, and some of the work has been done, and some of it is reserved, and some is released to the general temple files.

I finally figured something out yesterday afternoon. When looking at family tree matches, it shows how many records are attached. And if I have more records attached to my person than most of the others do on their trees, I mostly only need to look at the trees with more records than I have, to see what's missing and if it's relevant. It's been fun to link to the related Family Search profile and be able to update others' research with records and more details.

I'm yawning again. Hoping that this time I can go to bed and stay there until daylight.

Today I will be emptying and sorting all (or some) of the boxes that Fourthborn and I pulled out of the middle bedroom on Saturday. The dead people are just going to have to wait their turn, because my handyman couple will be back tomorrow (Tuesday) morning to finish up (!!!!!) the guest loo.

Sorry: a little distracted here.

Haven't been sleeping well. Not entirely sure why. Wish it would stop.

Bought a new pillow when I was out and about yesterday, in hopes that it would do the trick. One night isn't much of a test. I'll get back to you. If I remember.

Work's been going well.

The first blue/green baby sock is done and the ends woven in. Second sock has been cast on, messed up in the first round, frogged, and cast on again.

My bed is piled high with stuff that I need to find a place for in the next half hour. The remodeling of the master loo has commenced. The old commode is out on the curb. The icky shower paneling is gone, as is much of the wallboard, preparatory to the wainscoting going in. The new shower surround is in its box, and leaning against one of the trees in my dining room. My dolls are hiding out in my sweater drawers. The tree frog shower curtain is draped across the foot of my bed.

My NOAA (weather alert) radio came in today's mail, and I just finished a run for more batteries so I can set it up properly. There's a possibility of tornadoes tomorrow afternoon or evening.

I haven't quilted in two days, as that time has been spent clearing a path for my remodeling crew. I did more of that last night after Knit Night and the last little bit this morning before work. My body is screaming for sleep. Therefore, I am going to shut this down and I guess move the various piles out here in the living room for the meantime. And maybe I will be horizontal and unconscious before 10:30.

Weird(ish) day

I slept well. I ate sensibly. And still I fought sleep much of the day. Nevertheless, I managed to stay productive, and I made progress on the current baby sock at Knit Night and while waiting outside the thrift shop afterward while Fourthborn shopped for boots for her Scarborough Faire costume. She scored a really sweet pair of black ankle boots and some dressy flip-flops. She paid for them with some of her tip money from drawing on Free Comic Book Day earlier this month.

The kid is good. What can I say.

I finished the first pair of baby socks knitted in one-row spirals from two compatible remnants of previous projects. (I cast on half of the stitches with the first color, the second half with the other, and worked the heel flaps in the lighter yarn.) Those were more or less the color of sherbet. I am currently using a muddy green and a smoky blue. The overall effect is dusk in a rainforest, with the occasional splotch of powder blue or acid green. It's almost hypnotic to watch the colors play together. And I feel both clever and frugal, as none of this lovely handpainted yarn will be going to waste.

That's all I've got for you today. My body is tired but not in pain. My eyes are heavy. I've taken my meds and am going to grab a small handful of chocolate covered ginger on the way to bed. Night, y'all.

Rather a wild week.

At Knit Night a week ago Tuesday, my acquired brother T was showing me a pattern on his phone, and as he leaned forward, he put his hand lightly on my knee. At which point my brain went into lockdown. We had a lovely extended conversation via text over the next day and a half. I knew he wasn't making a move. He knew I knew he wasn't making a move. It was an act of compassion, and it shook things loose.

The hardest thing about being single, before I married Beloved and since his passing, has been the general lack of touch. I am a high touch person living a low touch life. It would be simpler if I liked pets, but I don't.

I think it will be easier in some ways when Middlest is here. That mother-child connection is clear and pure and holy. It's a small house. We are likely to bump into one another.

But as for last Tuesday night, Pandora conspired against me on the drive home, and I was able to cry for the first time in weeks. Not a lot, maybe not more than fifteen or twenty seconds, but it helped.

So if you were wondering at my cryptic posts on FB about Brain and Body and Spirit bickering amongst themselves, now you have another piece of the puzzle. I'll likely be pondering it for some time to come.

In other news, I had my quarterly diabetes check day before yesterday, and my regular doctor had taken a couple of days off, so I saw one who has treated me for bronchial yuck at the night clinic. He listened to my constellation of symptoms and agreed that the anti-cholesterol medicine was the most likely suspect and yes, I should stop taking it. Symptoms: joint pain, weak and achy muscles, blurred vision, ravenous appetite, weight gain, brain fog, fitful sleep. I have no idea if it was doing nice things for my cholesterol, but it was definitely impinging upon my quality of life.

In the two days I have not taken it, the aching in my hip and knees is almost gone. It is easier to rise from the commode. My appetite is returning to normal. I slept seven hours night before last, and six and a half hours last night (less, because I was mucking out my studio and lost track of time).

I worked for an hour on cleaning my studio last night, and another half hour tonight. My stacking bins have gone to a good home. I have a bag and a half ready to go to the thrift store. I found my baby shoes. I reshelved some books and collected all of my shipping boxes into one place.

Logic would suggest that I focus on clearing out the middle bedroom so that Middlest will have a place to sleep. But my heart tells me to declutter my studio so that I can use it for my sewing and crafting, and thus declutter the dining room.

I've had two stellar days at work. My focus and retention are returning (it was getting a little scary).

I have so much more to say, but my body is screaming for sleep, and I'm going to honor that.

Knitlandia: A Knitter Sees the World

I've tried (twice) to add that to my list of things-read, to no avail. Will try again when I'm more awake. It's delightful. Quite possibly even if you are not a knitter.

I picked up a novel while at Costco last night and am two chapters in. Thus far, no language issues, even if it is a New York Times best-seller. I'm always surprised to like something on that list, as my standards of what makes a book "good" are significantly different from the world's.

I like honorable people solving problems in an honorable way. And villains getting their comeuppance. And clean language. And a strong female protagonist doesn't hurt. What I love best about Drew Barrymore's take on Cinderella is that she doesn't just sit around waiting to be rescued. Unlike the doomed heroine of Wuthering Heights, she doesn't create problems; she solves them. Not a big fan of Catherine and Heathcliff. Brats, the both of them. Not a big fan of Miz Scarlett, either. She finishes the novel as selfish, clueless, and unredeemed as when she began. Bitter, not better.

I'd write more, but I'm supposed to be getting ready for work. And I really do like my job.