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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!

Monday, October 03, 2016

Single.

I know quite a bit about being single. Married at 21; divorced at 23. Married to the children's father at 25; divorced at 45. Married to Beloved at 59; widowed at 60. Thus far, 40+ years of being single, with varying degrees of happiness about it.

But that's not the kind of single that I'm thinking about. When I was listening to 3 Nephi 13:22 this morning, the word jumped out and bit me. While I was stuck at a long stoplight, I paused the narrative and punched the footnote. Doctrine & Covenants 88:67, Topical Guide: Dedication. (See also Commitment; Consecrate; Diligence; Obedience; Steadfastness. Each with its own hyperlink.)

Why do I get the feeling that if I followed every one of those leads it would take me weeks and weeks and weeks?

Turn signal on now for a change of topic: when I got home tonight, I made myself a ham and cheese sandwich. [Poof! You're a ham and cheese sandwich! Never mind. Too hard to type without fingers and thumbs.] And I sat down at the computer, intending to scan the rest of the piles and make an early night of it, after watching one of the Conference talks that I missed on Saturday afternoon.

Instead, I noodled around on Facebook and Bloglovin' and Pinterest while whittling down the "social" and "promotions" folders in my gmail. Saw a couple of neat ideas for finishing the kitchen and saved them to Pinterest. Caught up on the blogs that I follow. Finally settled down and got rid of several piles and maybe half the volume of paper that remains to be scanned.

Middlest spent the day chez Squishy and just got home. Did have enough spoons to help me decant the shredder into the bag and wrestle the bag closed so it can go out on the curb tomorrow.

I also had high hopes for winding yarn and starting a shawl from the yarn my sister gave me last Christmas. But it's still sitting here on my computer desk, where I can pet it as the mood strikes. What I am going to do is post this, shut down all my windows, play one hand of solitaire, take my meds, move the boxes of sweaters off my bed so there's room for me, and declare this day finished.

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