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!

Wednesday, October 19, 2016


When Middlest and I were at the Container Store a few weeks ago, we spotted something that would be a lovely joke to include with my sister's birthday or Christmas present. I bought it after work tonight and will photograph it for a future reveal, along with the story of why it is so funny.

And I needed a pink shirt for Friday, because we're all supposed to Think Pink, and I'm fresh out. So I went online to my favorite place for layering tops, and they had one in ballet pink. After work I called the local shop to see if they had one in stock in my size. They had one left and set it aside for me. The last batch I bought were two for $30, and there was an extra sale that ends today, where I could get two for $25. So I did. I bought another dark brown shirt to replace the one which got stained a few months ago. The one where I sewed on buttons carefully in a triangular pattern from the neck and shoulders to mid-chest, alternating various values of brown buttons from one of those color-themed packs at Jo-Ann. When I tried the shirt on, I discovered that I'd not been quite as careful with button placement as I had thought. Two big light brown buttons exactly where they should not be. So I hung it up in the back of my closet where it could think about how it had tricked me. I will eventually remove the buttons, cut up the shirt into four sections, and share it with Middlest, Fourthborn, and Mel. (I just realized that if I were to have Middlest or Fourthborn doodle on it, I could say that it was hung, drawn, and quartered. A little gallows humor. Sorry not sorry.)

Tomorrow we have the monthly doctor's appointment for Middlest, after which I will drop my kid off at the house, and Squishy will come by at some point to fetch, feed, and get into mischief together.

I've begun an Eva Cassidy station on my Pandora. I was just in the mood for female voices and mellow tones. So far I've given the thumbs-up to Bonnie Raitt (oh yes, please) and an unusually mellow song by Aretha, and the thumbs-down to one and possibly two songs by Norah Jones. I adored her voice when she first began recording, but not so much in recent years. Much as I love Sweet Baby James, I passed him over, so the only guy currently on this playlist is Izzy and his version of "Over the Rainbow." I love the orchestration. I love his voice. And it makes me a little nuts (hush!) that he scrambles up the phrases. I think this station will be slow to build, because I think I want it to be almost exclusively female voices. I've come a long way from my man-bashing days. The first couple of years after divorcing the children's father, I listened to very few male singers, primarily as an antidote to all the years of unavoidable talk radio when we were married. (Which was probably his desperate attempt to counteract the estrogen-fueled atmosphere in our home.)  [Middlest nodded vigorously when I read that.]

I'm going to see how much knitting I can do before bedtime. I'm trying to re-establish my bedtime routine. I think it's hilarious that going to bed sensibly is referred to as "sleep hygiene." I'm a widow. And I bathe regularly. Come up with your own punchline.

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