How soon we forget.

Today I spent three hours backing up switchboard, between two separate turns. When I left the office, my ankles were swollen like nobody's business, and the remainder of my body was demanding a sit-down dinner prepared by someone else, with knitting and an early bedtime for dessert.

So I went to my favorite steakhouse, where I had the petite filet, a small Caesar salad (I stabbed it a lot), and a baked sweet potato with regular butter and not their trademark sweetened/spiced jollop. I polished off the steak and brought home half or more of the sweet potato and a few bites of salad. I've been trying to remember to force fluids, but mostly I've been knitting. The first shoulder is done on Avery's sweater.

I think I will be sleeping a lot tomorrow. I'll be attending SemperFi's older daughter's wedding tomorrow night and then the reception, but after we get home from picking up our quilt blocks in the morning, I'll probably go back to bed for awhile.

I don't know how I flourished for so many years as the receptionist in our office. This week I've been fighting minuscule fonts on monitors that are not mine to tweak, and depending upon others to show up to relieve me when my turn is over, so I may relieve myself. I don't miss that part of the job in the slightest. We've been down to two admin all week, from our normal six, and all of the secretaries and some of the paralegals have been covering switchboard.

There will be more of the same next week, but at least it's only a four-day week.

Curating

Last night I sent an email with that picture of Celeste in her new chair with the harp, to the artisan who created the chair. She replied, "Thanks [for letting me know the package arrived safely and] for the photo. Wow. The harp is wonderful and the gorgeous dress is perfect with the chair. Excellent curating. Thanks for letting me be a part of it."

I read that at lunchtime, so of course I had to google "curating" and this is what I got. I'd never thought of what I do in such glamorous terms. If I label it at all, it's more like "accessorizing" ~ and it's a gift from Heaven that I've worked on over the years. It's why I prefer separates to dresses or suits. I can put the bits together every which way. Different scarf. Different earrings. Different something to keep my hair out of my eyes. Does this go with that? Woohoo, it does!

I'd like to be in bed by 11:00, so I'm going to curate myself down the hall and finish clearing off the bed.

Doll chair hath arriven.

If you want to see pictures of the chair, Celeste in the chair, and/or Celeste in the chair with her harp, click on this. Knit did not happen at work today, but I did bang out notes for the sisters on my VT route, dash to the Post Office after work for second-ounce stamps, and get them all in the mail. I even remembered to report to my VT supervisor and the VT coordinator just now. I didn't appreciate how important "return and report" was until I was first, the VT coordinator in my Fort Worth ward and then, the Relief Society president.

Knit is about to happen, but first I need to figure out something for dinner. I am feeling ravenous and more impatient than usual. Weird food combo, coming right up.

Have I mentioned any time in the last week that LittleBit is engaged? We haven't met him yet. I texted her today asking when do I get to meet him, and she replied that I already have. He used to walk her to school in fifth grade.

I asked if he was the kid who blacked her eye, or if that was somebody else. Crickets.

Good report cards at the dentist's today.

Well, at least for Middlest and me. Fourthborn has one small cavity and two small "dimples" that Wonderful Dentist wants to fill before they turn into actual cavities.

We finished up too late to run back to my office to pick up Celeste's chair, which was out for delivery when I left to pick up the kids for fun and games at the dentist's. I was not in the mood to deal with the security code for our suite, so I'll just wait until I get to work tomorrow and try to remain productive until it's time to leave for the day.

More progress on Avery's sweater while waiting for Middlest and Fourthborn to get their teeth cleaned. I'm going to try to finish this half of the yoke and shoulder before bedtime.

Cue the peppy music. Later, gators!

In which your intrepid heroine learns the proper spelling of "capice"[sic].

I've been spelling it that way forever. Thank you, Tan, for politely setting me straight.

Here are the first eight rows of pattern on the yoke of Avery's sweater.

That's all I've got for you tonight. Be good, and remember Whose you are.

Yankee Doodle went to London...

That was displayed prominently on a wall at Tia Dana, the newest yarn shop (that I know of) in Fort Worth. I may need to type this up and print it in doll scale.

SemperFi has been in London for a week. He brought this back for me:

English toffee. If I'd had a quart of milk handy, I would have polished off the entire tin. Thankfully, I did not.

Saw this in a different yarn shop yesterday. Tiny knitting needles made from toothpicks and beads

Might need to replicate it, but with better-fitting beads.

Night, y'all. Avery's sweater is calling my name.

This lane is my lane.

This lane's not your lane.
Get out of my lane,
and into your lane.

(With no apologies whatsoever to Woody Guthrie. If he were still mortal and had to drive Central Expressway, it would have its very own folk song. And possibly a double-platinum album.) Did a lot of driving today. Fourthborn came up with a lot of musical quips as soundtrack.

We had a great, incredibly productive day.

And we are both peopled-out.

And there is yarn.

And Middlest got Justice's new eyes put in while we were out.

And the plumber discovered that not only the P-trap was holey, so was the sink. We have a new, inexpensive sink, because I didn't have the time or the synapses to figure out how to remodel the guest loo while we were shuttling from one place to another. The new sink is not-ugly. Nor is the [shudder] chrome faucet. Both will last until I'm ready to put in the gorgeous vessel sink that I bought last year.

I got a lot of knitting done on Avery's second sleeve while we were out and about today. Enough that there's a decent chance I will finish it at knit night tomorrow night. (I don't know why I capitalize the Tuesday knitting group but generally not the Thursday one.)

Pictures maybe tomorrow night. Middlest took some great ones, and I'm not sure how to get them out of text and IM and into a post.

I meant to post this yesterday.

Part of my duty as ward sacrament meeting chorister is to deliver the proposed music to the bishopric and the person in charge of printing the bulletin for Sunday. We've had a dear woman serving in that capacity since I moved into the ward five and a half years ago. She was recently released in order to accept another calling. Various brethren are taking turns being in charge of the bulletin. I'm updating my distribution list every two or three weeks it seems.

I sent out the music through the first Sunday in July a week or two ago. Then I was informed that the Relief Society is singing a special number next Sunday. I updated my spreadsheet and sent a revised email to the current list of usual suspects.

Yesterday I got an email from a member of the bishopric, saying that there had maybe been some wires crossed, because the Young Women were supposedly singing a song they'd learned at Girls Camp. Could we have both groups sing?

This was my (somewhat irreverent) response: "Why don't we let the RS and the YW thumb wrestle? I don't have a dog in this hunt. I just need to know who's singing what, when, so we don't sing the same things over and over and over again, and so that whoever is in charge of the program** has the latest and greatest information. Let me know what y'all, or the sisters, decide so I may update my spreadsheet accordingly. Thanks!"

Yeah. I did. The good brother in the bishopric responded an hour or so later that another member of the bishopric said that the YW were not prepared to sing, so let's just leave it with the RS.

To which I replied: OK, thanks!

**The reason I am sharing this is because I swyped my response on my phone. I love swype. Except every so often it offers a guess that is nowhere near what I thought I was typing. In this case, it thought "program" was "org@sm". I'm really glad that I proofread my emails before sending them!!!

When I shared this with my kids, Fourthborn quipped, "Well, music is supposed to make you happy!"

Middlest retorted, "I love music, and it's never made me that happy!"

A seriously weird day.

So, SemperFi is out of the country until Thursday. When I got to work today, there was an email from TheKid saying he was taking two days of PTO. I sent out several pieces of mail he'd signed over the weekend. I worked Saturday's mail. I worked my inbox. I worked their calendars. I worked my ToDo's. I asked the IT guru if she had anything I could help with. And then I sent out my usual "will type for food" email to the other secretaries. The office manager replied with a task that required maybe 45 minutes. I ate my lunch. And then I posted a copy of this sign on either side of my cubicle.

After which I pulled out my phone and finished reading the book on anxiety with a clear conscience. Our office is remarkably free from busybodies, but in case somebody came by and saw me not-working, they couldn't miss my signs.

After work I hit Costco for gas and a few groceries. I've been hanging out with my kids here in the living room, and I need to make a dash to Braum's for milk, buttermilk, and orange juice.

Thankfully, even if there's nothing much to do at work tomorrow, it's a short day for me. I'm leaving at 3:30 to scoop up Fourthborn, my CPAP, and an overnight bag. We have important stuff to do in Arlington and Fort Worth on Wednesday, so I'm taking Fourthborn home after Knit Night, and I'm crashing at Firstborn's.

Living la vida loca, that's me.

Crafting today.

I made a floor cushion for Blessing and a sign which reads Do not feed the Alchemist!

I've also woven in all those straggly ends on Avery's sweater sleeve and added maybe an inch to the length. It feels good to making progress again.

In order to rearrange the top of the dresser where Blessing hangs out, I removed my radio alarm, the white noise machine, the electric pencil sharpener, and a couple of wooden boxes. After dusting the dresser, I added another placemat as area rug, seated Blessing on her pillow, and found a place for the clipboard with the sign and a new spot for her breakfast tray. While shuffling things around to be able to get at the wall outlet, I discovered a bag of books from a few months ago, when I was collecting miniature books for the alchemist's bookcase, as well as two books on how to use a serger.

No, I haven't bought a serger to replace the one I inherited from Mom which I gave to Fourthborn. Yet. But it's on my radar.

This has been a lovely Sabbath. I had enough spoons to attend all three hours of church. I had enough spoons to be engaged in the lessons and the sacrament meeting talks. I've had enough spoons throughout the day that I've been able to avoid a sleep-wrecking nap.

I need to go back into my room and finish putting away all the stuff that got shuffled around, because most of it is on my bed, specifically in the part where I do my PT and catch my Z's. That's kinda important.

Sari Ribbon

It followed me home. I'm keeping it.

Today I took it with me to Fabrique, an upscale fabric shop which I learned to my dismay is closing because its owner is retiring. I did find some lovely stuff that tones nicely with the ribbon, although you'd never guess it from these photos.

Another picture, this time with some feathered trim that I could not resist. I have no idea how I'll use it, but it called my name.

It's late, and I've not knitted or sewn or anything. I have time to fix that before the Sabbath or bedtime, whichever comes first.

Cooking up trouble.

Specifically, baking a dozen brownies in muffin cups to take to my friend Beth's house tomorrow morning (after helping to clean the chapel) to be bagged up as Father's Day gifts to the brethren in our ward.

I substituted a third of a cup of buttermilk for the water and stirred in half a teaspoon of cinnamon. I guessed that 25 minutes would be enough, but they need more, so I'm trying another ten and hoping that I don't overbake them. We have a great bunch of men in our ward. I would hate to contribute defective brownies.

Yes, I am helping to clean the building tomorrow morning. Now that we have only two wards sharing the building, our turn comes every other month instead of quarterly. So I've set myself multiple alarms on my phone (because of that time I utterly forgot) over the past two days, and I've set my morning alarm, and I'm just waiting for the brownies to be out so that I may exercise, take another stab at meditation (I crack myself up) and call it a day.

Once I'm done at the church and have handed off the brownies, I think it will be safe to jump back into my jammies and spend the rest of the day crafting. Or napping. Or both.

Two day old bruise.

Remember how on Tuesday I said this? I also nearly dropped a half-full jar of mango marmalade while making my PBJ for dinner tonight, and in the effort to keep hold of the jar, I torqued my neck and back. I also smacked my wrist with the jar. I only noticed the bruise today. I don't know if that means it's already starting to fade, as witnessed by the lovely green orbiting the center, or if it's waxing Technicolor on me.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to take a picture one-handed? (Yeah, you probably do.)

In other news, I paid the last bit on doll #17. I've had all the money sitting in my primary account, but I couldn't remember if there is a daily limit on PayPal, and I was always so tired when I made the payments that I didn't have any desire to find out for sure. At any rate, he's paid for and should be here in approximately three months, weather permitting. Monsoon + resin = lousy batch. I have no idea when monsoon season is in Korea. And it's not like I don't have plenty of resin kids to play with until Valor gets here.

In knitting news, I've finished the heel flap on the second green baby sock. I've also made a design decision on the sleeves of Avery's sweater. I'm going to reverse the Fair Isle pattern until I get to the armscye and figure it out from there.

I've been to Knit Night 2.0, Costco, Half Price Books, Kroger, all since leaving work at 5:00. I am more than ready for meds and a light snack, meditation, prayers, and sleep. Later, gators.

Phone is pouting in the charger.

Bra is pouting on my bed. I was sitting in a meeting this morning and realized that there was a sore spot on my side under my left arm. There were no guys in the meeting, so I discreetly reached up while everyone was focused on data projected onto a screen and discovered that the side stay had chewed its way out of the channel and was looking for lunch.

I can do a little minor surgery on that hole in the binding until new bras arrive. I hate shopping for bras. Manufacturers think that if you have a wide band, you have breasts that require their own ZIP code. And as Gershwin wrote, it ain't necessarily so.

What I want is a front-fastening bra with back support, straps that don't slide off my shoulders or creep into my neckline in front, adequate lift, and separation without underwires. I think I'm just about over underwires. I've worn them for 45 years, first to scrape everything out from behind my shoulder blades and move it up front, then to wrangle the aftereffects of having nursed five children, with the additional complication of weight loss, weight gain, weight loss, weight gain, weight loss ... you get the drift. (And I've never been a yo-yo dieter.)

My skin is old-lady soft and a little fragile. I will not look 25 again until I get my resurrected body. I have more little rolls than a French bakery, and I'm tired of extenders in the back that accentuate the tendency of shoulder straps to head for my elbows, and I'm tired of pooching out beneath my bra band and spilling over the sides at the top. Underwires either break or escape over time, and soft-cup bras create a shelf or allow the girls to slump like a fallen souffle. Neither of which is the look I'm aiming for.

There has got to be a better system than the brassiere. One that allows aging bodies a modicum of grace and respect for their battle scars.

Mumble mumble rassen frassen. I'm gonna go knit. And once my phone has stopped pouting, I'll see how much meditation I can manage tonight.

Postscript: I had dinner tonight with one of the sisters I send visiting teaching letters to every month. We ate Mediterranean food, which you would think would have mellowed me somewhat. Hummus is definitely my happy place. She said that I looked great, very relaxed. I told her "anti-anxiety meds and a muscle relaxer". She didn't know quite what to say.

Day Two

I felt slightly less silly this evening, and I made it through ten minutes and 32 seconds of breathing, followed by a session in which I was supposed to experience what was going on in my body from crown of head to tip of toe. (Gas, twitching, and the random mild ache. I didn't need meditation to tell me that.)

In knitting news, I'm approaching the heel flap on the second baby sock, and I've done nothing on Avery's sweater since Sunday night.

Nor have I quilted, but I've been faithful at doing the basics of my PT homework at least once a day. So that's something.

I also nearly dropped a half-full jar of mango marmalade while making my PBJ for dinner tonight, and in the effort to keep hold of the jar, I torqued my neck and back. Not badly (I hope) but dishearteningly.

If I'm already anticipating my resurrected body at my current age, I can only imagine how sweet the anticipation will be in another 30 years.

Work went well. I'm going to take my meds, maybe use the thumper on my back and neck, and call it a day.

In which your intrepid heroine attempts meditation.

Stop snickering.

One of the hazards of reading a book on your phone is that the phone narcs on you. The author recently mentioned various apps that help some folks to decrease their stress and manage their anxiety. So my Facebook feed offered one of those apps to me today, and I downloaded it.

After I got home from Trader Joe's and Costco, and Fourthborn and I had stowed the groceries, and I'd eaten some leftovers and put a small load into the washing machine, I decided to fire up the app. The first option it gave me was "breathing." OK. Breathing is good. I'm a big fan of breathing.

The app presented me with a circle like a clock face without hands; it instructed me to inhale deeply as a dot went from high noon to approximately 5:00, hold my breath until approximately 7:00, and exhale deeply while the dot climbed up towards 12:00. After about two and a half minutes of this I got bored, put the app on pause, and saw that it wanted me to breathe for another seven and a half minutes.

Not without some knitting in my hands, bossy little app. Which I'm sure would have defeated the purpose.

So I poked around a little and found the meditation section. There's a one-week beginner's program, and I managed to stay engaged for the entire twelve minutes of Day One. It feels a little weird ~ OK, a lot weird ~ to pay that much attention to my breath. Tracing it in through my nostrils, down the back of my throat, into my windpipe, feeling it quickly warm until I can't feel anything except an urgency to get rid of it now and inhale a fresh batch of cool air. I did that for twelve whole minutes. Just me and my lungs and Soothing Female Voice.

We have a date for tomorrow night. I can't say that I'm any more relaxed than I was when I sat down, but the incessant chatter in my head made itself scarce for the duration. We count all the small victories.

♪On my phone, I'm in the lane beside me♪

(Blog post title courtesy of Fourthborn.) A car in front of us drifted to one side, and the car in the next lane over took exception to that. There is hardly anything that we can't find a musical phrase for, or something that will lend itself nicely to parody.

Fourthborn, yes, ALT-13 works here as well as in other applications (to create that single musical note). Does anyone else know how to arrive at the double note?

I learn stuff from my kids every day.

I spent a good chunk of yesterday sleeping. The upside was that I had abundant energy and a pain-free body for church today and was able to enjoy all three hours of the block meeting. The downside is that very, very little got done: one load of laundry, the dishwasher loaded and run, drive-by fooding of our missionary sisters, and a quick trip to Half Price Books to pick up a reserved copy of The Hidden Life of Trees, which I took off my wishlist at Amazon earlier today. The most creative thing I did was to press all the fabric I've been unearthing for the past few days with an eye toward making a skirt (or tabard, or something) for Justice, the doll I've re-homed from Fourthborn.

I am continuing to read, enjoy, and learn from On Edge, Andrea Patterson's account of her struggle with anxiety. She writes beautifully, and I hope to learn a few tricks that could eventually enable me to manage my own without the Lexapro. I've already learned that I'm not ready to step down my muscle relaxer. Both may have to wait until I've retired. Or I may be on some variation of both until I kick. But at least I'm getting a feel for what's going on in my body/mind/spirit. And why.

I also realized something this morning. For most of my life, I have read fiction. I still love it. There is nothing like escaping into another world for a few hours, seeing how others resolve their problems and grow in character, and coming back into the real world better for the adventure. I certainly enjoyed reading three series of young adult novels written by Rick Riordan last year! But now? Now I seem to be drawn more to non-fiction, which would have been incomprehensible to my younger self.

There's a biography of Gordon B. Hinckley, which admittedly I haven't touched in months, but it's there if and when I want to, a doctrinal book by Elder Bednar, both of which have been joined by the tree book, and I picked up another coloring book last night.

Dinner's over. (Yes, I do my best eating while at the keyboard. Don't you?) Middlest has a migraine, Fourthborn is watching something and playing something, and I think I'll go knit for awhile.

Saw Wonder Woman with my kids.

When we got to the theatre a little before 8:00 to buy tickets for the 9:05 show, everything was sold out except for the two rows right in front of the screen. I did not want to spend two hours and twenty-one minutes staring up Wonder Woman's nostrils. So we got tickets for the 9:50 showing and walked to the other side of Half Price Books, where there was a taco shop that sounded intriguing.

Taco Joint. We were able to get some tortilla soup for Fourthborn (minus the avocado) and to determine that there was no cilantro in the soup, so Middlest had a bowl as well (with the avocado). I had the best queso and chips I've eaten in the last five years, and possibly in my life. One of those times when I wished that I had a hollow tongue like a butterfly, because there were a few stubborn drops of queso that refused to be scooped up.

It is now nearly 1:30, and I haven't had my 10:00 meds, and I'm not sleepy (although I am tired).

Also, I bought another doll. A boy. Steadfast will be so happy. Right now he's outnumbered fifteen to one.

Over and sorta out.

Fun at Knit Night 2.0

I put a couple of rounds done on the baby sock. And I've nearly caught up the third sleeve on Avery's sweater to where the second (improved) sleeve ended.

I came home to find a happy financial surprise (instead of the other kind). A windfall, of sorts. I've already planned boring responsible things to do with most of it, but there will be a bit of a splash as well.

Beginning, if the three of us have sufficient oomph when I get off work tomorrow, with going to see "Wonder Woman."

I've officially graduated from physical therapy and have the T-shirt to prove it. I got it a size larger so I may use it as a sleep shirt.

Now if you will all kindly excuse me, I want to pull the green fabrics out of the bargain kits that I bought last Saturday, in preparation of preshrinking them once Middlest is out of the shower.

The June quilt blocks are done.

And pressed, and folded, and inserted into their Ziploc bags until the first Saturday in July.

I then went into my stash and pulled out all of my green Thimbleberries scraps and remnants. They are piled on the flat extension of my sewing machine, looking forlorn and a little confused as to why they are seeing the light of day after a dozen or so years in purdah. In another shoebox were three bags containing 100 four-inch squares each, dating back to 2000. I pulled all of the plausible greens out of them, and they are soaking in the bathroom sink. I'll go in after I post this, wring them out one by one, and hang them to dry overnight. Tomorrow night or Friday night I'll pull all of the greens out of the eight discounted kits that I bought last Saturday and preshrink them. And then I think I can start piecing a skirt together.

I was stuck in traffic for quite awhile after work tonight, so there are several more rounds on the second green baby sock. I'm going to add another pattern band to Avery's sleeve before calling it a night.

I added another Pandora station tonight, starting with Piano Guys, adding Helen Jane Long, Dallas String Quartet, 2 Cellos, and thumbing-up anyone else who sounded as if they belonged to this bunch.

Dinner was small and simple: a bowl of Fage, mango salsa, and rinsed black beans, scooped up with relatively low-sodium tortilla chips. This makes up for the gourmet grilled cheese sandwich I enjoyed for lunch: two kinds of cheese on sourdough bread, grilled onions, avocado, bacon, tomato, and apricot mayonnaise. I asked her how she made that, so I could try it at home. I'm thinking it would be heavenly (and far less caloric) if mixed with Fage.

Later, gators. I want to knit, and I want to read, and I should have taken my meds 12 minutes ago and and and.

As I suspected, a very long day.

Did a slightly shortened version of my PT routine today, then took Middlest for the monthly checkup. From there to the pharmacy in Wylie for a refill of the Ritalin, after which I dropped Middlest off at Squishy's. Squishy had already picked up Fourthborn.

I came home, quickly updated my spreadsheets, hung a small picture of Beloved and Squishy in the doll area in my room, took my shower, and went to work. Was feeling a little anxious, so my first stop once I'd parked the Tardis was the deli, for three chocolate chip cookies and a pint of milk.

Got lots done in a little over half a day of work and dithered over whether to go to Knit Night or just come home and make a blanket fort. When it was time to decide, I turned right and headed for Grand Prairie. Ate most of my dinner (soup and salad) with my phone turned off and while reading the current issue of The Ensign. My friends started arriving, so I put the magazine away and enjoyed some great conversations.

It's nearly 11:30. My stomach has settled. I'm going to bed, knackered but content.

Not much to see here.

Work went well. SemperFi took me to lunch today to celebrate 18 years with the company. My friend C came along because we like her, and because we are both careful to avoid the appearance of evil. I told him I wanted a big salad at the Rodeo Bar and Grill, a restaurant owned by Walt Garrison, a famous rodeo cowboy and former Dallas Cowboy, set in a corner of the Adolphus Hotel in downtown Dallas. It's a few blocks from my office, just at the edge of my comfort zone for walking. I had a Southwest salad, substituting ranch for a cumin dressing because cumin, ugh! and managed to eat about three-fourths of it in the restaurant and the rest of it at my desk while getting the mail out for SemperFi and TheKid.

After work I drove through drizzle and surprisingly thoughtful traffic to Costco and then to Braum's and the pharmacy. I have a refill of my Robaxin, and in 16 minutes I will take it. With any luck I'll be asleep well before 11:00. Tomorrow's going to be a long day: PT for me, monthly checkup for Middlest, trek to the pharmacy in Wylie for a refill of Middlest's Ritalin, drop Middlest at home or at Squishy's, and go to work to play grownup all day.

Plus, tomorrow is Tuesday, and Tuesday is Knit Night, and I haven't been for a couple of weeks, and I miss my friends.

The kids were wonderful and schlepped all of the recycling out to the bin while I was at work today.

A bit of sewing today.

I got all of the block components put together some before church and the rest of them before and after my nap.

All that remains is to sew the components together and pop both blocks back into the bags the kits came in. The finished blocks will be a bit more colorful than this; the light in my studio leaves something to be desired. (As does the organization of my tabletop.)

Then, since there will be no last-minute rush to assemble the June blocks in time to pick up the July blocks, I will be free to work on other projects. I'm designing a doll skirt in my head. There may be some Seminole piecing. We shall see. I am contemplating the purchase of a basic serger sometime after I finish the quilt and Avery's sweater. I would have time to take a bonehead beginner's class. I inherited Mom's serger when she passed, but I gave it to Fourthborn, and I wouldn't dream of taking it back.

It's been an uneventful Sunday. I went home after sacrament meeting, because my back was twitching slightly, and my arms kept tingling and trying to go to sleep while I sat on the stand between gettng up to conduct the hymns. I figured it was my body's way of telling me that I should come home and go back to bed, so I did.

I have zero desire to work on the quilt blocks any more tonight, so I think I will go work on Avery's sweater for a bit, read a little more, and call it a day. I'm hoping that my Robaxin gets filled while I'm at work tomorrow and that I can resume taking it tomorrow night. I've done hardly anything today, and there's a little buzz under my left shoulder blade, and I want it to go away.

Blocks. And not necessarily more blocks.

Fabric preshrunk and drying for the next blocks.

As I write, all of the pieces are cut out, and I've begun to sew the flying geese components. My shoulder blades started to tingle, so I pressed what I'd done, marked diagonal lines on the next series of squares, and turned off everything in my studio.

I figured it was my body telling me (A) the table has become too high to work comfortably ~ although I didn't have this problem when I was sewing into the wee hours this morning ~ or (B) I needed to stop crafting and get myself something to eat.

So what have I done instead? Posted pictures on the doll blog of the quilt block kits from last year's two series quilts that I picked up for $1.50 each because they'd been unclaimed and the shop wanted to make room for more stuff. Why the doll blog? Because they are going to become doll clothing and maybe some doll-scale accessories (or even a quilt).

But now my stomach is rumbling. I'd probably better get serious about sending down some fuel.