About Me

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Four 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!

Thursday, May 12, 2016

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.

1 comment:

Rory said...

For what it's worth, I can sleep in a chair if necessary for awhile, and I'm currently moving between the labyrinth of boxes, some my own, and many belonging to BFF and her son. So.. organized clutter is not going to be an issue for me. I can work with it, and I can help, if you are willing to let me. :)