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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!

Friday, February 17, 2017

In which we storm IKEA.

Bringing home two long floating shelves and two mid-size floating shelves and one of those open towers (red! on closeout!) and the dollhouse and a bag of Swedish fish and a USB charger.

Before that, Middlest and I went to the doll meet at Pie Five. Peace and her puppy were great hits, as was Middlest's doll. I am finally finding my comfort zone in that group

On the drive home, significant abdominal pain (I suspect reflux), treated with the better part of a bottle of water, and now I am swilling buttermilk and have eaten some ginger cookies. Pain is officially gone, huzzah!

Knit did not happen today, but by the grace of Heaven I had a phenomenally productive day at work and basically finished in, if not quite a blaze of glory, a slightly past its prime sparkler's worth.

Have I mentioned the time I learned that sparklers do not keep from one year to the next? And that it's best to enjoy one's lawful pleasures in their season, rather than deferring them to a later date and finding out they have depreciated into mocking little sticks of uselessness.

This is the part where a sensible person would take her medicine and go to bed. I'm going to eat some ice cream.


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