About Me

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Six 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!

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Mutatis mutandis

A new phrase, gleaned from page 36 of my bio of Musorgsky et al. My ignorance of Russian music is astounding. So every page in this well written book is revelatory. And every bit as slow going as War and Peace. But without the patronymics.

It's been a good day. I think all of the meds are kicking in. My foot is relatively comfortable. I'm about halfway done with the antibiotic. And while I'm not exactly relaxed, I think I'm thinking clearly. I've asked my sister to let me know if I'm any weirder than usual. She would tell me.

I found the missing DP. Even though I'd searched my purse twice and my suitcase two or three times, this morning before church I found it sticking out of a pocket in the bottom of my suitcase. (Which explains why Middlest and Fourthborn couldn't find it on my bed when I asked them to look.) Certainly made turning the heel and working the gusset a whole lot easier. I'm almost done with the toe decreases, but I'm done for now. I got a nap before dinner, but my phone says it's after 1:00am Texas time. And I need to be awake(ish) at 6:00 to take my next dose of antibiotic.

Night, y'all. Or should I say good morning?

In which we hit a streak of luck. The good kind.

Middlest and I had been racking our brains, trying to find a local doctor so that Rx's which were about to run out, could get refilled. There's a three to six month waiting list to get seen at the county hospital (unless we want to go spend however long in the ER). Inspiration struck recently, and I texted a friend in my ward who is a social worker. She gave me the name of a doctor in our ward (not currently attending church, which is why I don't know him) who has opened a practice specializing in family medicine for those who do not have insurance. Middlest and Fourthborn have both filled out and submitted the introductory paperwork.

We went in last week, and we like this guy.

In knitting news, I wondered if I had enough of the bilious green to make a pair of gender-neutral baby socks. So I weighed several finished socks, and the average weight was just under 14g. I have 30g of the yarn and have four rounds on the needles.

Tonight we went to Costco after work, and I've spent an hour or so fiddling with numbers. I've been so busy working on other things that my spreadsheets are a bit behind. I need to spend two or three evenings scanning things and shredding or filing them, depending.

I'm feeling both incredibly blessed and a wee bit frazzled. I need a few more hours in the day, so that I can spend as much time as I'd like, visiting with Middlest (who is excellent company) and keeping my usual eagle-eye on my finances and knitting and coloring and and and.

I'd write more, but tomorrow is going to be a long day. Middlest has a dental appointment and then a checkup on those new contacts, and then there's Knit Night. So a sensible person would take her meds, turn on the white noise machine, and call it a day.

Therein lies the problem.

I'll take Lexapro for about $7, Alex

My incredibly sore, icky toe is not athlete's foot, but a bacterial infection, and I have an antibiotic, plus industrial strength myconazole just in case, and I'm starting a low dose combined anti-anxiety, antidepressant medicine. When I went for my quarterly bloodwork in May, my doctor's associate said that a lot of the symptoms I have could also be signs of depression, and did I think it was a possibility?

At the time, I did not, but lately I've been thinking maybe, yeah? Not the deep, debilitating crashes of my PTSD days. More like an amoebic, noncommittal meh. And a growing tendency to snark. I have felt increasingly crabby with SemperFi, who has a newly engaged daughter and is just the teensiest bit harried.

I do remember those days.

Today, after my doctor examined my poor foot, she asked how I felt. And I told her, I feel sad. I am sick. I am tired. And I am more than a little sick and tired. She said that in the past when she's asked, I've talked about my projects, and that maybe I have been distracting myself.

Well, there is that. And the fact that I've regained 30 of the 40 pounds I lost two years ago when I was first diagnosed with diabetes.

Middlest looked at my ankles last weekend, held a hand over them, and said, "I think a lot of this is buried feelings, and I think a lot of it is your kids." I have wondered since then, if I have been stuffing my frustrations as far away from my heart as I can get them, without their actually leaving my body? Because my blood pressure is stellar, even if my attitude is not exactly.

I'm mostly packed for my trip. I fly to my sister's tomorrow, and I'm excited about that. Fourthborn is staying here with Middlest, and the two of them will (I hope) present me with a wonderfully reorganized studio upon my return. And a vanquished Mt. Shredmore.

As for me, there will be knitting, and the family reunion in Oregon with my brother-in-law and niece and all those nice cousins that my sister and I met last year.

I need to figure out my travel knitting. I have not a clue. I have sharp poky projects that will not make it through security. The idea of not-knitting makes me want to weep. Weeping would probably be good for me. Homicide, not so much.

I suspect the load of laundry for which I am responsible is ready to go into the wash. Maybe then I can sleep. I am wound tighter than a tick. Mostly from sweet excitement. I love to fly. I love my sister. (I love my kids, and I'm looking forward to missing them.)

Life is still good. A little more weird than usual, but good. Later, gators.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Kind of a weird weekend, in a sweet way.

The original plan was that I would pick up Fourthborn after work on Friday and bring her home to help Middlest reorganize my studio. Then go back Saturday morning and pick up J, who kindly offered to mow and trim my yard after I fired my Lawn Dude earlier in the week. Then take J and Fourthborn back home on my way to meet Alison and hit the new yarn shop in Fort Worth.

But Fourthborn texted me that she'd been spectacularly ill the night before and just wanted to stay home to recover. Middlest made backup plans with a doll friend since I was going to be gone most of the day. That eliminated one round trip to Arlington.

Saturday morning I picked up J, we retrieved the lawnmower from the bowels of the garage, and he got it to work after its nearly-four-year vacation. We could not find the weed whacker (I probably gave it to somebody because I had a Lawn Dude), so we made a run to Home Depot for that and a pair of pigskin gloves two sizes smaller than Beloved's, a backup reel of nylon line and a full bottle of two-cycle fuel.

While he mowed the lawn, I tackled boxes in the garage and have three or four ones ready to go out on the curb with the rest of the recycling tomorrow night. The rickety wooden table that was resting atop the lawnmower is now out on the curb. While J weed whacked the front, I put on the gloves and grabbed the loppers and started attacking the vines on the back fence. He polished them off on the alley side using the weed whacker and then finished the inside of the fence for me. I rolled a wheelbarrow out to the curb and made a pile. The Texas heat has now reduced it in volume by at least half. At this rate, when the garbage truck comes on Tuesday, there will be a pile of dry twigs and withered leaves.

Had a wonderful visit with Alison yesterday. We went to West 7th Wool, which has been open two or three months and had its grand opening last weekend. I limited myself to one ball of souvenir yarn. We met the owner. Alison gave her an autographed copy of her wonderful book. I took Alison back to her father-in-law's house and myself to dinner at Lucile's. On the way home I picked up some caffeine for Middlest's migraines and some strawberries and a clamshell of mini croissants.

Today after church I took a short nap (and am about ready to go back to bed). I sorted through a medium moving box (i.e., a largish box) full of notebooks and books and photograph albums. There are a few things that need to go to the boys, and Middlest will get the empty notebooks for school this fall, and there are a couple of pamphlets that 1BDH might find useful as assistant scoutmaster.

Oh, J and I dropped off a bag of toxic chemicals yesterday on the way to get the weed whacker. And I have stuff to drop off at the thrift shop and a bag to take to Half Price Books later this week.

I was the guest teacher in Relief Society today, from Sr. Burton's address in the April 2016 General Conference.

This post is all over the place. You're getting whatever bubbles to the surface, pretty much as it comes, and I think I'm done.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Takin' care of business (workin' overtime)

These past two nights I've put in an hour and a half of OT, working on a project for the office manager. I'm not the lead on this project. More like the VP in charge of documentation. It's reasonably interesting, seriously fiddly, and needful.

The money will be nice. Driving home after most everybody is off the road is a perk.

Last night Middlest and I ran a quick errand and got burgers. Tonight I had enough spoons to throw together something simple.

Middlest is watching Dr. Who via laptop. I have retreated to my room and am going to read some articles in the August issue of the Ensign, then knit until it's time for meds and bed. I may crash a little early. I'm definitely peopled-out, even with someone as non-demanding as Middlest. Too many meetings yesterday.

Tomorrow night I'll bring Fourthborn home to help us work on my studio. Her roomie is going to mow my yard on Saturday, as I've fired my Lawn Dude. That's a tale for another day. I'm also meeting Alison sometime that day.

Over and out.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Family council, other progress.

When the kids were little, we generally had family councils when one of them had messed up royally to the point that it was hurting the rest of the family. So, not a lot of happy memories associated with the phrase.

After church today, I asked Middlest (after acknowledging said fact) if it might be helpful to start having family councils a couple of times a month, along the lines of coordinating calendars and figuring out projects/goals we want to work on. Middlest was amenable.

We now know what's on the calendar, individually and collectively, what we want to cross off our respective lists, how that will benefit the household, and where we can help one another out. (Somehow I think this is more what the Lord and the brethren had in mind.)

In other news, I spent a happy two hours working on family history after a brief nap, mostly linking what I've recently added to Ancestry.com to my tree on Family Search. After which I told the dear departed that I was done, and I picked up my knitting.

I've turned the heel and completed the gusset decreases on the tiny purple sock for Sarabelle (sp?). There's about a quarter inch to go on the foot before I begin the toe decreases. I'm keeping my notes on Evernote, and when I'm done I'll transfer it to Ravelry. Thus far it fits like a champ. I'll work on it some more in the morning, or if I wake up in the middle of the night. Otherwise, I'll probably finish it after errands and FHE tomorrow night.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Sick. And tired.

Woke up yesterday morning with a crabby right sinus. Went to work. Got a call from the office manager, who was working from home and said she'd gotten numerous complaints from my coworkers about my nose-blowing. I got a little bit offended (more on that later) and went home. I truly did feel lousy. I did not feel contagious. I took half a dose of Mucinex shortly after getting home.

Middlest woke up yesterday with bleeding sinuses from the change in temperature chez Ravelled, and I thnk that's what was behind my own discomfort. We had the AC dude out on Tuesday night, and he restored the unit to full functionality. Which meant that over the next twelve hours or so, the inside temperature dropped from about 86F to about 73F, and I think that was just too much of an adjustment for either Middlest or me in such a short space of time.

I was feeling well enough last night to take Middlest to a dolly birthday party at a friend's house and to pick my kid up again when it was over. When the alarm went off this morning, I was feeling somewhat better but still not 100%, so I called in sick (with a noticeably husky voice), took the second half dose of Mucinex, ate a snack, and went back to bed for four hours.

Got up at 10:00, took another half dose with a slightly larger snack, stayed up for an hour and a half re-reading the Sunday School lesson and skimming the Relief Society lesson, then went back to bed. Slept until 2:00.

Took what I most devoutly hope was the final half dose of Mucinex, made myself a peanut butter sandwich on cinnamon raisin bread, took my vitamins, and washed it all down with a cup or so of milk, as about 98% of the congestion is gone.

I've read all the KnoWhy's for the Sunday School lesson. Learned a new word: talionic. And am yawning again. Not sure at this point if it's a hungry yawn or a genuinely tired yawn. So I'm grabbing a handful of carrot sticks and heading back to bed.

Middlest has a particularly bad migraine today. No doll meet up at Pie Five for us tonight. Me, because I didn't go to work, and Middlest because lights-people-noise.

Wondering if I have enough brain cells to knit productively until I fall asleep. I cast on (several times) for a tiny purple doll sock last night and can't remember if the final cast-on worked, or if I need to frog it yet again and start over.

I think the nap is going to win out over everything else. I just caught myself with my head listing to starboard.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Operator error.

I learned tonight, relatively inexpensively, that I'm supposed to turn off the AC before I replace the batteries in the thermostat. I have now set a reminder to replace the batteries once a year, and pour vinegar down the little stubby thing once a month, but I'm going to do that weekly for a month because I didn't know to do it, before.

The second pink baby sock is done. I've cast on another with the remnant and a fresh ball that I bought at Fiber Circle. I'm going to knit a little on that and call it a day.

We've picked out purple laceweight yarn for me to knit a pair of teensy socks for one of Middlest's dolls. So Avery's sweater gets pushed back yet again, but Middlest proclaims the mostly-done sleeve as lovely.

I also learned today what needs to happen for the credit card company to release my limit (make the funds available again when I've paid off the balance in full and don't want to wait two weeks for them to decide that they got their money). My bank cooperated graciously, and I was able to order my plane tickets for the family reunion later this month. I've saved my notes in the folder relating to the credit card.

Fourthborn will come stay with Middlest while I'm visiting family. I'm not expecting any significant work to get done, but Middlest's health concerns are sufficient that we will all be happier if there's someone else in residence when I'm gone. Plus, they like each other. (Imagine that.)

OK, seriously done here. The room temperature has dropped 3+ degrees F since the AC dude left four hours ago. I may be able to turn off the ceiling fan when I go to bed tonight.

Friday, July 08, 2016

What I did instead of going to work today.

You may have heard. There was a little excitement in Dallas last night. There was a peaceful protest, and peaceful protection from Dallas' finest, and then one or more snipers started shooting policemen, who did what they are supposed to do: they shielded the civilians, and several of them died for it.

I know this because my vigilant friend Tola was up and paying attention as it all came down. I was asleep. Middlest was up. Tola messaged Middlest to put a note on the inside of the front door for me, so I would not reflexively leave for work. I awoke at 2:30 or so, thirsty and a little hungry. Middlest was still awake and told me that there'd been trouble downtown, but to check things out after I'd gotten a full night's sleep. We visited for a few minutes, and then I went back to bed, after Middlest fetched the note from the front door and I tucked it into my bag where I'd see it before I left.

Alarm went off at 6:00am, and I fired up my phone. Text message from the office manager saying not to come into work today, but that those who have the capacity to work remotely could do so. (I don't.) I then came out here to the living room and fired up my computer and got the bare bones of the story. I was glad that I hadn't read the note when I was up earlier. I would not have been able to sleep, and sleep has been a rare commodity this week. (This is me being mortal and fallible. We are still working out how to keep the house cool enough for Middlest, in the middle of a Texas summer, and have enough conversation that life proceeds smoothly, when we haven't lived together for over ten years, and the mutual impulse is to talk until the wee hours so we can catch up. It is wonderfully exhilarating to have such a thoughtful, considerate, and creative roommate, except when the alarm goes off at 6:00am. I am experimenting with Middlest's spare ice packs, to cool down enough that I can fall asleep when my overtired body says Enough Already.)

After eating a little breakfast, I headed out to the dining room and sewed up the quilt block I'd cut out earlier in the week. So that's done. And while the iron was hot, I pressed a skirt that I'd tossed on the end of the ironing board five or six weeks ago. We make haste slowly around here. I worked a little more on the current baby sock. I played Sudoku and Flow Free on my phone. I grabbed a small pile of stuff from the corner of my room and sorted it out.

Eventually Middlest bubbled to the surface, and we went to Costco and Trader Joe's. On the way home, I saw a signboard along the freeway, advising that central Dallas was still barricaded. We unloaded the groceries, ate a quick snack, then went out to Kroger and CVS. There are only three items on our list that we were unable to find. We'll track them down next time. I ate a few bites of ice cream, put the pint into the freezer, and set the alarm for when I take my Metformin and antihistamine.

Middlest is sleeping soundly. I just ate a peanut butter on raisin bread sandwich and am still vaguely hungry. I'm also sleepy, and the house is relatively cool (not looking forward to August), and we are leaving at 6:00am to pick up Fourthborn for an early morning brunch at a friend's house in Arlington. So I think I'm going to eat another couple of bites of something or other and go back to bed. Brain wants to play. Body says we're done.

Please pray for the good people of Dallas. Particularly for those who have lost loved ones, and for the families of the shooters. I can only imagine how their mothers feel.

Thursday, July 07, 2016

Still here.

Still working to find the new normal. Middlest is the most considerate roommate I could ask for. I come home to (or wake up to) neatly folded laundry, emptied boxes, subtly increased order. We're still working to find a room temperature that's suitable for both of us and won't require a kidney donation to pay the electric bill.

Found one of my old poems the other night. Based on a dream fragment around the time of, or shortly after, my divorce from the children's father. Turns out to have been prophetic, and I may share it at a later date.

That's all I've got for you now. Break is over. Putting my shoulder to the wheel and nose to the grindstone.