95% Yeehaw crawdaddies! 5% Mumble mumble rassen frassen.

Overall, an excellent day. My scarf arrived at the office, and my new skirt arrived at home. We got a call from the court coordinator, and we are not called to trial next week after all, so I don't have to prepare trial notebooks or book a flight for our client or find him/her a hotel room for two or more nights.

The drive home was rather fun. Took a different route and stopped at Charming Charlie, where I bought two pairs of earrings in different shades of olive green.

Next was Arby's, where I behaved myself and only got a classic roast beef sandwich, washed down with bottled water left over from lunch.

From there I drove to Half Price Books and picked up a gift card for Bittiest, who had a birthday last Saturday, but that part of the family was out of state for a family reunion.

It looked as if my day was going to fall apart at Wally World pharmacy. The clerk couldn't find Middlest's Rx refill, even though we had notification that it would be ready after 7:30, and I had dawdled and puttered long enough to get me there at 7:47. I spelled Middlest's name twice, gave the birthday twice, wrote everything down on a piece of scrap paper, and still the clerk couldn't find the bag.

I smiled the smile that used to make my kids scatter to their rooms and told him I would wait. In a couple of minutes, he called me over and suggested that I speak with the pharmacy tech. She was able to find the order, and the bag, immediately. I thanked her genuinely and profusely, paid for the meds, and left.

Middlest's phone has been intermittently uncooperative lately, so my texts and FB messages arrived home about five minutes after I did; i.e., after the problem was solved. We agree that we are not going to use that pharmacy again. We've had the same clerk the last three times, and while he is a very pleasant man, he always has trouble finding the Rx's.

Onto happier news: The new skirt fits. (Barely, but that will help me continue to make sensible eating choices.) Haven't tried on the leggings yet, but since they are strictly for wearing at home, fit isn't as crucial.

Sitting here with a mug of buttermilk, trying to decide if I want an apple for dessert, a handful of grape tomatoes, or both. (Yes, I would like to dive headfirst into a tub of triple ginger cookies. That's how frustrating the Wally World experience was until I spoke with the pharmacy tech. But I would also like my new skirt to fit whenever I decide to wear it, so reason clobbers eating my feelings tonight.)

I got a (very) little knitting done today, but more importantly, I finished hand-writing the letters to the sisters on my VT route and reported to my district supervisor. Which is probably why the skirt fits, and the scarf arrived almost a week before the shipper said it would, and there were two pairs of earrings that I liked, and one pair was on sale for less than the (wee) quarterly dividend check for my TI stock.

Yawning. Prodigiously. This bodes well for a relatively early bedtime. Night, y'all.

Implicit bias.

No, it's not the lovely drape and swing of a dress designed in the 1930's. It's the things we don't know that we think or feel about others. There was a link to a TED talk by Jerry Kang on a work-related website. I copied the link and sent it to myself at home, because I didn't have fifteen minutes or half an hour or whatever to watch it at work, and I wanted to watch it when I could have uninterrupted time to listen and ponder. I listened to it tonight.

And then I went to another website and took a test to see what was hiding under the rocks inside my brain. Mom and Dad were careful to rear us to see people as individuals. Thankfully, I was not taught to be prejudiced. But I do live in the world, and I was pretty sure that some of it had crept in, no matter how careful I thought I was being. There are thirteen possible tests at that website, as of this writing.

Here are some of my results:

1. Your data suggest little or no automatic association between Weapons and Harmless Objects with White Americans and Black Americans. Well, that's good. Responsible weapon ownership and idiocy are, I would say, pretty evenly distributed.
2. Your data suggest a moderate automatic association for Male with Career and Female with Family. My data was fouled up because the test kept telling me that I was giving wrong answers. This test was frustrating.
3. Your data suggest a moderate automatic association for American with White American and Foreign with Native American. Banana oil. I just got faster at responding as the test went on.
4. Your data suggest no automatic preference between Old people and Young people. True. I like nice people.
5. Your data suggest a slight automatic preference for Thomas Jefferson over Barack Obama. Also skewed. I certainly don't hate the POTUS. He is, after all, a cousin (13th cousin 1x removed), as is Thomas Jefferson (4th cousin 8x removed). It's bad manners to hate your relatives.

I haven't taken any of the other tests yet, but I probably will.

And I am out of spoons. Tomorrow and Friday are likely to be crazy-busy, as SemperFi informed me late this afternoon that the trial we were pretty sure we were not going to be reached in, is suddenly looking as if we are extremely likely to be reached. So I will spend a good chunk of the next two days preparing trial notebooks, because this is a huge case, and then it will settle at 4:55 on Friday afternoon, and I will take opposing counsel's name in vain.

Night, y'all.

Green socks are done!

And I have been making mischief on eBay. I just ordered a vintage Vera scarf, which should arrive at my office a week from tomorrow. If the monitor color is anything like reality, it will play nicely with my new olive shirt and slacks.

I've cast on yet another pink sock, although, come to think of it, I rather like that yarn, and I should be able to make myself a simple cowl with what I have on hand. But I'm too sleepy to think about that tonight.

Dinner was cottage cheese, a cup of grapefruit sections (from Costco), multi-grain crackers from Trader Joe's, and hummus. Dessert was triple ginger cookies washed down with milk.

I had a good, productive day at work and was not too wound up at the end of the day. Right now I am feeling strangely comfortable (as opposed to comfortably strange). It's like those mirages when I drive through Nevada. I think I see relaxation, but I'm not sure it's really there. The muscle relaxer is definitely helping, as is the Lexapro. But I didn't get wound up tighter than a tick overnight, and I don't expect to completely relax my neck and my traps short of the resurrection.

I said I was sleepy half an hour ago, but it took half an hour of brushing to detangle my ponytail enough that I could braid my hair for the night. This is the part where I brush and floss, turn on the white noise machine, fill the CPAP reservoir, say my prayers, and hope for a solid night's sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow: dental checkups for Fourthborn and me, eye exam for me.

Over and out.

White noise.

My Christmas gift from the corporation's catalogue last year was a white noise machine. (This year I've chosen a small, high-quality food processor.) It has six settings: thunder, ocean, brook, summer night, rain, and white noise. I've been using the machine fairly regularly for the past three weeks, because it muffles the murmurs of Middlest and Fourthborn when they are up all night gaming. They are careful to speak and laugh quietly, but after nearly 40 years of motherhood, I have ears like a bat. So I dusted off the machine and put it to work.

I've been leery of using the pseudo-water-based settings because of suggestible kidneys. The point of running the white noise machine is to help me sleep through the night, not to wake up at dark-thirty needing relief. I can do that on my own. So my setting of choice has been thunder, because it is more boom and crackle than drip drip drip. I turn it on a few minutes before I climb into bed, when I'm washing my face and brushing my teeth, as a cue that lights-out will be happening shortly. Most of the time it works like a charm.

I was knitting knitting knitting last night, trying to finish the gusset decreases before bedtime. My eyelids grew heavy, so I put my knitting away and went through my routine. Put on the chinstrap, eye mask, and harness. Turned on the CPAP, rolled into bed, and turned off the light. (So glad that I sprung for the chain pull extensions when we got Middlest's.) Lay down. Closed my eyes. Brain decided to yammer at me. I grew more and more awake. After twenty minutes to half an hour, I threw off the covers, sat up, turned on the light, and freed my face.

Down the hall I went, nearly colliding with Middlest, for a healthy snack. Knitted four more rounds. Put my knitting up again, switched to the rain setting, and tried again. Noticed that the rain setting sounds a lot like bacon frying. Hoped it would not make me hungrier. Rinsed my mouth, plugged myself back in, and feel asleep.

I've only used the rain setting two or three times, and while it's nearly as good as thunder for lulling me to sleep, apparently it does weird things to my subconscious. I think I've written that when I was married to the children's father, I bought him two environmental cassette tapes that could be played on endless loop: one of a city rainstorm, and another (my personal favorite) of a country rainstorm, complete with baa-ing sheep. Those went with him in the divorce.

The last two times I've used the rain setting, I've dreamed that I was still married to him or that life was otherwise falling apart. A week or so ago we were fighting (which we didn't do) and duking it out (which we definitely didn't do), and I was trying to take the kids and leave before he killed me (not in his character). Last night was one of those work/school dreams, in which I couldn't consistently find the room where I was supposed to be, and I was wandering around a neighborhood, and people from different stages of my life were making cameo appearances. Very disorienting, and I'm still feeling a little spacey.

So here I am, typing away when I'd rather be asleep, and I need to be at church, alert and prepared, in a smidgen less than two hours. I just caught myself dozing off, bolt upright, notwithstanding a high-protein breakfast. All of which suggests to me that I'm going to learn something, or connect more dots, when I get to church, and that the Adversary is fully vested in my zoning out or coming home early.

Not gonna happen. Heading back for a catnap with the alarm set.

On this fifteenth anniversary of 9-11, God bless America.

And Ms. Ravelled, and those she loves, and those who love her. And all who stand for truth and righteousness, no matter how they understand our Maker.

Ordered a skirt online last night. And a pair of psychedelic leggings.

Fell in love with the leggings when a friend wore them to Knit Night when it was chilly, earlier this year. Went back to the website, and they were still in stock, along with a witty skirt. If both are as nice in person (i.e., on me, as they are being modeled by women of various sizes on the website, I will put up pictures and tell you the name of the website.

I left the house a little early this morning and hit Wally World on the way to work. Bought six pairs of slacks (I love the ones by Just My Size and have worn them for maybe a decade) and still made it to work on time.

Called Middlest's new doctor and asked him to call in an Rx, which was ready after work. But first I came home and ate half a baked potato which Middlest prepared. I'll have the other half for lunch tomorrow. Then we went to Wally World and got the Rx, drove to CJ Banks to check out the new corduroy jackets, which feel like microfiber washcloths rather than real corduroy, so no. But they had fall colors in the dressy T-shirts I like, and four of them came home with me because they were two for $30.

Pretty much everything goes with everything else. I have dark olive pants, black pants, black with closely-spaced pinstripes (think of wide wale corduroy, only not fuzzy), cranberry pants, and two pairs of jeans. The shirts are a lighter olive, a bright teal (not turquoise, more green than that), a slightly lighter berry one than the one I already had, and a milk chocolate brown. And I have scarves that go with everything, and a tweed turtleneck sweater that goes with the olive pants.

I still need more skirts. Almost enough to dip into my fabric stash and sew some. But not quite yet, although either Middlest or Fourthborn would be an effective helper when it came time to mark the hems.

So dinner was half a tater, then a one-scoop cone when we finished shopping, and now I'm tucking into a salmon burger while my new jeans canoodle with the old ones. I learn from my kids all the time. Sixty-plus years of life on Planet Earth, and this is the first time I'm paying attention to the label that says "wash before wearing" because one pair is inky blue, and I don't want to look as if I were tattooed in woad when I take them off tomorrow night. Middlest offhandedly remarked that one should always wash jeans before wearing, and that throwing the old jeans in with the new ones frequently refreshes the old ones. So that's what I'm doing.

I'm also theoretically going to bed in nine minutes, but there's laundry to tend, and I want this last snack to settle, and I only remembered on the drive home that I need to get the music for next Sunday to the sister who does the programs, so as soon as I eat two more bites of fish, I'm grabbing my hymnal, praying like a madwoman, and hoping to be in bed by eleven.

More stuff checked off the list. With a side order of miracle.

So I started making a list this morning of things that I want to accomplish or buy in the next few days. Fresh produce. A load or two of laundry. Prescriptions for Middlest and me. New (cheap) slacks for work. A sleep mask to block out the glow of the charging phone, my CPAP, and the white noise machine at night. Some nights I'm so revved up that I feel as if I'm taxiing down a runway. I had a lovely sleep mask that I bought at Bath & Body Works nearly 20 years ago. Fifteen at least. It was a soft grey-green, filled with buckwheat (which tastes lousy to me, but which made a lovely weight against my eyelids). I wore that one almost to ribbons.

Where's the miracle, you ask? I left my list in the truck when I walked into the grocery store, and by the grace of Heaven I bought every item on that part of the list: baby carrots, shredded carrots, schoolboy sized apples, bananas that are so green they might not ripen before Christmas, half a gallon of milk, a small container of organic butter lettuce, one huge avocado, and another box of Wholly Guacamole mini's. I spent almost the entirety of the drive from the grocery store to the pharmacy giving thanks about that, plus various other things.

Picked up my Rx and a sleep mask, came home and put away the perishables, and scooted off to my room to listen to a broadcast about Dvorak and his music. Rolled up my yoga mat and centered my spine along it for fifteen minutes, and I mostly did some good, except for the part where I tried to drop my hips and knees, and my knees started bouncing, and I kinda pulled something ever so slightly on the right side of my lower back.

I've safely begun the second moss green sock, and I've entered my receipts on various spreadsheets. Middlest made a batch or two of egg salad at my request. One seasoned more heavily, to my kid's preference, and a plain batch for me. I'm not sure if six or twelve eggs got used up. After the Dvorak program was over, I made us each a sandwich, and then I added a bunch of herbes de Provence to mine and stirred it thoroughly. Everybody wins.

When I was at the grocery store, I was seduced by a four-pack of baking potatoes. Tomorrow afternoon Middlest will preheat the oven and bake two them to be done about the time that I get home. I'll stop at Braum's and pick up some sour cream, because Middlest loathes Greek yogurt. It's a texture thing.

And after dinner, if I'm not groaning contentedly in my chair, I'll go back out to Wally World and see if they have my favorite brand of inexpensive jeans and chinos in colors I like and in my length. The ones I've been wearing will get laundered, then cut up and divided four ways to make doll clothing.

I also need new skirts for work and for church. One of my favorite skirts dates back to 1998, and the waistband is more frayed than not, and there are some stains that I can't get out. So I either need to replace it or to spend a couple of hours tatting flowers to applique over the stains.

This is the part where I post, then go online to look for boho maxi skirts, because the regular ones I've seen over the past couple of days are rather uninspiring.

More progress in the studio.

I did this on Monday. Seemed appropriate to be laboring on Labor Day. The spool racks have been kicking around in boxes or on various surfaces since I moved from Fort Worth four and a half years ago.

Now the thread is off the dining room table and sorted by fiber and approximate color spectrum. Mel's mom has another one, which she will give me when she repaints her sewing room. And then I can put greater degrees of separation between the classifications.

Tola posted on FB that there is a special edition collaboration between Karl Lagerfeld and Faber Castell, in a wooden box like a Chinese wedding box, and it's lovely, and it's also $3K. I am fresh out of firstborn male children (I'm not even tempted to offer one of the redheaded stepsons), and I'd like to keep both kidneys. So I guess someone else will be getting my box. But it sure is pretty.

I finally got the moss green baby sock whipped into shape yesterday. I started with 40 rounds of cuff, then frogged back to 37 rounds, finished the sock and weighed it, frogged back to 35 rounds, rinse and repeat, frogged back to 30 rounds. This time it is well and truly done, except for weaving in the ends. I haven't quite gotten around to casting on the second sock, but I am fading fast, so it's probably not happening tonight, either.

In other happy news, I went straight to Costco after work and brought home some items I hadn't been able to pick up over the weekend, plus tanked the Tardis. Middlest helped me empty the truck, then we heated two of the individual pizzas I bought. Which was an adventure in itself. Got the oven heated and the pizzas on the baking pan. Set the timer for 15 minutes. When it dinged, went out to the kitchen and realized that I had forgotten to put the pizzas in the oven. Did that, walked into my room to reset the timer and came back to the living room to work on my spreadsheets. Then I asked Middlest, "Did I actually set the timer, or did I just think that I did?" Walked back in to a silent timer. Guessed that the pizzas had been in about three to five minutes, and set the timer for ten.

So. Good. Even if I underestimated how long they'd been in the oven before I remembered to set the timer. They were nice and crisp, but not burnt. And tasty, and I think they will be a regular inhabitant of the fridge freezer from now on.

Once we'd eaten and I'd checked their website, we hopped into the Tardis and made a quick run to Academy. Middlest and I both needed new sneakers, and we found one pair on sale and another on clearance, so we got two pairs of shoes for less than one pair would normally cost. I wanted a pair with dark soles, since I am tired of taking Magic Eraser to my sidewalls to make them fit to wear into the office on uber-casual days.

OK, I'm done. Night, y'all.

Almost there.

When I step away from the computer and go to my room, I have five rows of pattern and four rows of garter stitch before I bind off the charity scarf. And depending on how much oomph I have left, I might even get the hat cast on before calling it a day.

I'm off work tomorrow to celebrate Beloved's birthday. (Every year I take my birthday off, and since I remarried I've been taking his off as well.) I'll be spending a fair part of the morning taking Middlest and Fourthborn to get routine blood work done, and then we need to get some paperwork signed and faxed to one of their providers, and then maybe we will go to Firstborn's house so she and Fourthborn can finish their quilt blocks.

And sometime before Saturday morning I really should stitch mine up as well.

Squishy is off tomorrow and would like to get together with my two. He was (intentionally) born on his dad's birthday.

OK, I've planned our routes tomorrow morning, and I'm going to grab a mug of milk and a non-sensible amount of cookies and retreat to my room, because my blessings are fasting until it's time for the vampire attack, and I don't want to be that mom.

Later, gators.

Ms. Ravelled makes a plan.

I checked a voicemail last night while we were out shopping. It was for someone who wanted to lower my credit card rate. I deleted the message. Middlest just looked at me. "Are you on the Do Not Call list?"

"Yes, for years and years."

"You can report them. They're breaking a Federal law. The FCC will go after them."

So I went online and verified that I'm on the list and have been since 2003. Then I went into my phone log and made a list of all the numbers that I don't recognize since November 9, 2015. I'm going to go back into my phone and add the date and time of all the calls. There are 47 numbers on my list, after I removed the duplicates. And I'm going to report them to the FCC. It is theoretically possible that I could receive $500 from each number, which would buy a whale of a lot of yarn or pay for two or three planned vacations or cover most of the cost of the next phase of renovations.

And you bet your bippy that I'm going to document and report every unwanted call that comes in from here on out.

In other news, we flaked on Knit Night tonight. Middlest did not sleep all night, but packed both of our lunches, a knitting bag, a backpack of personal electronics and possibly art supplies, and would have caught up the laundry had I not filled the dryer with a load of whites, which I strongly prefer to handle myself. Oh, and took out the trash. And caught maybe two or three five minute naps during the day while sitting in the atrium in my office building as I worked. When I took our lunch bags down at 1:00, I was greeted by a determinedly cheerful but bleary-eyed blessing.

We ended up putting a message on the Facebook group, picking up Fourthborn, and going to our favorite sit down Tex-Mex restaurant, where we ate ourselves stupid (as Beloved would say). I have tomorrow's lunch in a to go box. Good food, great company, much laughter, and a fun server.

Middlest is snoring gently in the middle bedroom. I have done all I can do with the spreadsheet tonight and have tossed the load of lights that Middlest started, into the dryer. It's time for my meds, and I'm hoping to be asleep within a minute of my head hitting the pillow.

Oh, before I forget, I got the mess straightened out regarding the CPAP supplies which did not come. Somebody fat-fingered the shipping address, and the mis-addressed shipments have been or will be credited back to the insurance company. New supplies are on the way. So relieved to know it was a clerical error and not an attempt at insurance fraud.

OK, this time I really mean it. (Anybody want a peanut?) Night, y'all.

A frogging we will go...

So I worked the moss green baby sock to the final decreases and weighed the yarn that was left. Only 13.9g, theoretically enough to work the second sock but a little too close for comfort.  I frogged the sock back to the end of the cuff and removed five rounds. (Note to self: that's 35 rounds this time, not 40, if we want the socks to match.) Thankfully, Jitterbug frogs well, so I let it rest overnight and reworked the heel flap. That gave me enough knitting for Sunday School and Relief Society, and I will probably finish it tonight, with plenty of time after dinner to work on the charity scarf.

I've been playing with numbers. Specifically, dancing my way through the IRS publications in anticipation of filing my 2016 tax return. I confirmed several days ago that while Middlest is too old to be my qualifying child I can still claim qualifying relative. This afternoon I confirmed that I will be able to file as head of household instead of gloriously single. I've set up a section of my spreadsheet to estimate what my refund might be under two scenarios. Scenarii?

But now I need to think about dinner, and I need to step away from the computer, and I want some interaction with my kid.

I think the dear departed are getting restless. I've been having family members pop up in my dreams of late, and I rarely dream about the people I love. I will just have to dedicate one evening this coming week for family history research.

Just goofing off today.

Got the oil changed on the Tardis, and a new air filter. Ran to Costco for a handful of things and ended up spending less on food than on gas. I call that a win! Then to Paper Source for a miniature book for Blessing, who has claimed all of my miniature books for her own, and party hats that will be verging on Lolita-scale for the big dolls, to-scale for the MSD's, and charmingly clownish on my tinies or on Chutzpah and Grace. There is a Trader Joe's across the street from the paper store, so I restocked the gingersnaps and chocolate covered ginger. Then I came home, ate half of a blueberry muffin, put the rest into the freezer for later, and took a nap.

Middlest slept through all of this and woke up about the time I went down for my nap. We have since had a nice chat, and I am trying to figure out what to do with the rest of this lovely, lazy day. Which I needed, because yesterday was hellacious. Not the work part, which went just fine, but the unannounced fire drill. For all the years I have worked in this building, we have had one every quarter, on a Wednesday, and because my mobility is intermittently impaired, I just have to go stand in the stairwell and wait to be let back in when the drill is over. Because this one was on a Friday, I slipped into my walking shoes, grabbed my purse and keys and cell phone, and gimped down seven flights of stairs. I was livid to get outside and discover it was just a drill.  My hips and knees were screaming. Thankfully, I had acetaminophen in my desk drawer, because I can't take ibuprofen with my new meds. I just wanted to curl up and sleep it off. Or cry.

The acetaminophen worked. Within an hour or two, my joints had hushed significantly. But my neck, shoulders, and traps were still whining. Since that was probably stifled anger, it took longer to go away.

Oh, and we failed the fire drill, because not everyone had cleared the building within five minutes.

When I got home, I dug out my floofy yoga mat (that I used maybe four times for the yin yoga class) and put it up on my bed, then lay down with my spine centered on it and chilled for several minutes. When I rolled off, my back was much happier.

I'm on the home stretch of the moss green baby sock. I nearly finished the gusset decreases while the Tardis got her oil changed. So that's definitely on my honey-do list for the rest of the day, and I want to work on the charity scarf as well. But I spent fifteen minutes browsing the Etsy shop where I bought the lovely specialty ribbons for doll clothing, wishing for both more time and more money. I saw a mug at Paper Source that perfectly expressed my philosophy: "I need a day between Saturday and Sunday."

Word.

Yarn chicken, reprised.

Last week I finished the second sock and had this much yarn left. We knitters call that playing yarn chicken. As the end of the yarn approaches, you knit faster and faster, hoping to outwit your stash. In this case I cut things pretty close. Photo by Middlest, which is why I couldn't find it on my phone.

Because I like a good challenge, I'm playing yarn chicken again. I had a small ball of leftover Jitterbug in a dark mossy green. I wondered if there would be enough to make two socks, or only one and a half. So I weighed half a dozen finished baby socks. The heaviest weighed 14g. I have 30g of this yarn, and no color in my stash that plays nicely with it, so I couldn't cast on half of the stitches with this and half with another, as I've been doing for the past several pairs. I'm more than halfway up the cuff, and I'll weigh this sock when it's done. If I'm lucky, there will be a little over 16g left for making the second sock.

I am now within spitting distance of finishing that cuff. I may get that done tonight and start on the heel flap, or I may choose to go tweak things in my studio while dinner digests. I'm a little sleepy, maybe a little goofy (hush!), and it would probably be a good idea for me to move around gently for fifteen to twenty minutes. Not enough to keep me awake when I lie down in an hour or so, but enough to feel that I've accomplished something here at home tonight.

The charity knitting project is approaching completion. I will probably finish the scarf on Saturday, and tonight Middlest helped me to find a compatible yarn to make a hat, as the original yarn is apparently discontinued. One of the downsides to stashing yarn from a big box craft store.

Speaking of staying awake, when we got home from Knit Night on Tuesday, the city was tearing up the pavement where I would normally turn onto my street. They were still running the jackhammer at 10:00. So I turned on my white noise machine in thunderstorm mode and cranked up the volume significantly. (It still wasn't as noisy as the fan Middlest has going in the middle bedroom, so I wasn't being a rude mom.) I think we were both asleep shortly after hitting our respective pillows. I know I was.

And if I don't get moving right now, I will be sleeping here in my computer chair, accomplishing nothing but a sore neck.

It's been a week already?

Sorry, y'all. Our evenings seem to be taken up by grocery shopping, picking up Rx's, a whole lot of driving, some of it in driving rain (pun intended), leaving little time to sit at the computer and blog.

This week we have a dental appointment for Middlest followed by a re-check of the new contacts. I spent an hour or so today sorting through the stuff that had piled up on the footstool by my desk, and then clearing all manner of stuff off said desk.

I'm starting to feel like myself with the Lexapro. Middlest, who has been on one sort or another prescription since middle school, says it takes about three weeks to find out if a new medicine is effective, or if something else needs to be tried. In my case, I could not be more pleased. My emotions are still there, and my speed of thought is almost what I'm used to. I just don't feel frazzled.

The nightly, low-dose muscle relaxer is doing its part. I'm now aware of when I'm tensing up, and I can consciously choose to stretch and relax, or flex, or whatever needs to be done. A serendipitous benefit is that it no longer hurts to rise from a sitting position, or to descend into a seated position on, say, a standard height commode. I've been using the handicapped loo whenever possible, both for the grab rail, and because there is less whining from my knees and hips. I noticed today while rising to lead the music in sacrament meeting, that my joints were not grumbling. Those choir seats are not designed for aging bodies, because my hips rest lower than my knees, even if I take my shoes off, which mostly I do.

Barefoot, but distinctly non-pregnant.

Thursday night after work I had driven over to Arlington and picked up Fourthborn, because we had planned to go to the doll meetup at the pizza restaurant; however, I drove home in a deluge that was nearly as intense as the frightening one when we were driving along the Great Lakes in June. By the time I got home, I was tired and anxious, and the Tardis had wet brakes and squeaky belts. So we did a Plan B dinner at home. No way was I going back out in that. I took her home last night, after we all had worked a bit more in the studio.

Middlest graciously stayed home, instead of accompanying me as usual, because I needed some alone time. And I got just enough of it.

Yesterday I picked up the red scarf that I started months and months ago from the red bulky acrylic yarn that Wes and Sarah gave me for my birthday a couple of years ago. Our stake is working with a local synagogue to provide hats and scarves for the homeless. I already had half of a scarf, and yesterday I reached almost the 3/4 mark. I will finish it this week and block it, then see if I have enough to knit a hat, or if I will need to buy more yarn.

Had an interesting experience with overwhelm yesterday while we were working on the studio. We got nearly another quarter of the floor cleared, and a shelf emptied and reorganized, and one of the "Mom needs to wrangle this" piles reduced by half. I thought it was my overwhelm, and it crept into my room, but it turns out that the majority of it was contained in one storage tub full of stuff a friend had given me when she was decluttering (in the days when I had not yet learned to say "no, thank you"). There was some seriously crabby juju in there, but I got everything sorted, and there's a nice pile by the door that will go to the thrift store on my way to work one day this week, and my house feels clear and safe again. Middlest was able to take a few items, and we sent more home with Fourthborn, and I kept the felt and one pillowcase charmingly stamped with little houses.

I got a nap after church, and I am blessed and happy, and I am sleepy again. So I am going to turn on the white noise machine, say my prayers, and call it a day.

Fun and games. No, really.

Last Friday we had a quarterly team building activity that was side-splitting fun. Beforehand, we had to answer eight questions and tell the organizers our favorite song and the name of the artist. When we assembled in the large conference room, we found ourselves playing the Office Spouse Newlywed Game. One person sat with his back to the screen. Three others faced the screen, and as the first person asked a question, had to reply convincingly as if it were his or her own answer. The questioner had to figure out which of the three was the source of the answers.

A surprising number of my coworkers, when asked "What did you want to be when you were small?" replied, "Big." One of the women responded, "Big. And now I want to be little again." SemperFi's answers had us doubled over. I thought the managing attorney was going to bust a gusset, as my mom would say.

So here are the questions, followed by my answers, followed by my song.

1. What is your biggest fear? Heights.
2. What makes you laugh the most? My kids and grandkids.
3. If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be? Create (knit, draw, write, etc.)
4. What did you want to be when you were small? A mommy.
5. If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? Grilled salmon, glazed carrots, red beans & rice, Caesar salad.
6. If you had a warning label, what would yours say? I have sharp, poky sticks and I know how to use them.
7. What was your first job? Sorting lima beans on a conveyor belt at Birds-Eye during the summer.
8. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be? Mama bear.

And my song? This.



It's been a really good, productive day, but I'll share that another time. Night, y'all.

And a muscle relaxer.

It's been a long day for Middlest and me. I had my quarterly diabetes check this morning, and before heading there we stopped at the community college so Middlest could find out why there was a sudden glitch in plans to register for fall. I circled the parking lot until I absolutely had to leave. Middlest's phone is a WiFi phone. I was unable to connect via text, so I sent a message via FB saying that I had to scoot and would be back.

I missed my kid by probably less than a minute. Made it to the doctor's office with minutes to spare, to find a series of FB responses indicating panic attack. Messaged back that I would return as soon as possible, which I did. Drove back to Arlington so Middlest could get fitted for contacts. Knitted. We did a lot of (helpful) talking on the way to Arlington and back again.

There was time to kill before picking up Fourthborn for Knit Night, so we went to the bookstore, where I found two ridiculously expensive magazines that spoke to my artist heart. Middlest was looking like I felt, so I paid for the magazines, and we headed back home, making our excuses to Fourthborn and to the knitting group. No spoons.

We beat the rush hour home. I think Middlest fell asleep almost immediately. I set the alarm for my usual bedtime so I would take my meds on time, and I slept for two and a half hours.

Since then, I've had a tuna fish sandwich, some gingersnaps, a little buttermilk, my meds, and a couple of bites of chocolate covered ginger. I've washed a load of laundry and will pull it out of the dryer in the morning. I've emptied and filled the dishwasher, which is whispering to itself in the kitchen. (If ever a machine purred, it would be my dishwasher. I chose well when I bought that one a few weeks or months after Beloved passed.)

OK, back to my health. Doctor was pleased to see that I've lost five pounds since I went in for the infection that was beginning on my toe, which has since healed nicely. I was astounded. I was pleased to tell her that the Lexapro seems to be working nicely. I'm thinking more slowly than usual, as marked by my times on electronic Sudoku, but I'm thinking clearly. Except for the part yesterday where I got distracted while listening to a friend as I was slicing a banana onto my cereal at work, and I sliced at least half of it right into the trash. As my friend Trish remarked, ten second rule definitely did not apply there!

Since coming back from vacation at my sister's, even though I'm feeling less snappish, the habitual muscular tension in my neck, traps, and upper back has been marked. I can feeeeeel my muscles tensing when I'm at my desk. And this morning, when I was driving to the doctor's office, I felt a twinge on my right sitter, under the bone, about (I think) where the sciatic nerve ties in. So I inquired about muscle relaxers, and my doctor nodded, grinned, and e-faxed the Rx to my pharmacy. I've just taken my first dose, along with the regular lot, and I've read the possible side effects and interactions.

It would be nice to wake up some morning feeling completely relaxed instead of merely less-tense.  It was interesting to talk with my sister and find out that she has always carried her stress in her neck and shoulders, too. My doctor is not one to over-prescribe, and she knows how much I dislike taking pills. I've tried yoga. My toes are too badly broken for it to be at all useful to me, even with major modifications. (The best part of yoga for me is lying on my back with my legs run up the wall and my arms extended to either side, breathing quietly.)

I'm fed up with being stiff and sore, knowing that it is more emotionally-based than age-related. I'm hoping that modern pharmaceuticals will give my body enough of a rest that my spirit can take over and help Heaven to bring about a healthier balance.

For the moment? Gonna go knit. Trusting the universe to keep the plates spinning while I try to wind down enough to go back to sleep.

Life is (still) good.

Comparing notes

One of the quiet pleasures of the trip to visit my sister was asking her questions about random things and finding out that her experiences have been similar to mine.

Me: Can I ask a weird kinda personal question?
Sis: OK?
Me: How come your eyebrows are neat and orderly, and mine have turned into old man eyebrows?
Sis: Because mine have almost completely disappeared, and I draw them on.
Me: Oh.

In the past five or six years, my over-plucked eyebrows have gone feral on me. Every so often I pull out the white ones, and sometimes even the dark ones have grown to an inch or more in length. Sleeping with a CPAP tends to ruffle them up every whichway, and mostly I try to ignore them, but eventually I reach a point where Something Must Be Done. I suspect that the time will come when my eyebrows, like my ankles, will have five hairs apiece.

Shoulders. My sister recently had a second surgery to repair a macular tear, and as part of the recovery she had to spend 75% of her time face down, and then 50%. The first time, they rented a special chair that kept her in the right position. This time, they did not, and she had to support herself in the face-down position, causing tremendous strain on her neck and shoulders. I remarked that I carry most of my tension in my neck and shoulders, and she said she did as well. It was one of those "you, too?" moments. She had to take muscle relaxers briefly.

I wonder if I should as well. Thursday was my first day back at work, and by the end of the day I knew why Atlas shrugged. My neck, shoulders, and upper back were stiff as a board. It was not quite so bad when I went home yesterday, but even after almost nine hours of sleep I am not relaxed.

The Lexapro seems to be working. I don't feel as snappish, and it doesn't seem to interfere with feeling happiness or joy.

Middlest is off on adventure today with Squishy and Mel. They have gone to a doll convention in Austin. I'm waiting on a call or text from Firstborn to let me know when to meet her and Fourthborn at the quilt shop to pick up our penultimate blocks in this series.

The kids did a yeoman job of tackling the chaos in my studio. The actual moving-of-stuff took longer than they had expected, because there was so much overwhelm (mine) in the room. I am going to try to deal with the "Mom needs to look at this" pile on one shelf today. It's not huge, but it is messy.

The doll socks are done, blocked, and on Sarabelle. They fit her perfectly. Middlest is pleased. So am I.

I'm going to knit a little, and then I'll work on The Albatross for awhile.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Honey, I'm home.

Have been for a week, actually, but what a week it has been. We unloaded the Tardis immediately. Fourthborn had gotten so much done on the middle bedroom in my absence. We finished the floor, set up the bed, and went out for Whataburger while the house cooled off. The batteries had died in the thermostat, which Fourthborn hadn't noticed, but Middlest and I sure did. I replaced the batteries, we went out, and we've kept the ceiling fans going in all rooms pretty constantly all week.

At this point, Middlest has the room arranged neatly. We just took out nearly two dozen flattened boxes to the curb, plus two large boxes filled with more. And the recycling bins. And a bag of shredding. I might be able to fill a second bag before bedtime.

There is a Rameumptom of food storage boxes about four feet to the southeast of me, here in the living room. Three towers stacked ten boxes high, with two partial boxes of flooring on top like cherries on a sundae. It's like the leaning tower of obedience, and it makes me antsy in the extreme, and between us Middlest and I need to come up with enough "spoons" to wrangle the boxes into some other part of the house. Because the new RS president is coming to visit on Thursday night, and while I don't give a squirrel's toot [suggests Middlest] what anyone thinks about my housekeeping skills or intermittent lack thereof, we need to have enough room for people to sit down like civilized individuals. And breathe. And maybe even make eye contact.

In searching "Rameumptom" on lds.org, I was led to a talk by Elaine Jack, a former General RS President. Middlest just said, "It's Monday night. Do you have any ideas for FHE?" Why yes, I do. I've read a little of this article, and it seems like a likely candidate. Later, gators. If the article is as good as I think it might be, I'll post a link on FB.

Radio silence, more than likely.

I leave after work tomorrow to pick up Middlest from her best friend's parents' farm in East Tennessee.  If you and I are also friends on Facebook, I will be posting some pictures, as Fourthborn will be holding down the fort.

She has been an immense help tonight: unloading the back of the Tardis, unloading the mess behind the seats, bringing in the trash bin and the recycling bins (apparently I got the week wrong?), helping me prepare snacks for the road, and helping me wind four balls of yarn.

This is the part where I try to wind down and get some sleep. I've been listening to bouncy music in order to stay awake while folding laundry, packing, printing off my itinerary. I just remembered that there's one last load out in the dryer, which I will need for work tomorrow as it contains my dark jeans.

I've got meds and vitamins ready, half-muffins bagged up, the apples, the bananas, the last of the tomatoes, a skirt and shoes for Sunday, the 2004 atlas which will back up Waze. I borrowed a USB adapter for the car, and Fourthborn noticed that I have a DC port that does not double as a lighter. Who knew?

Brain is still racing, racing, racing. Stomach is a little hungry. Bills are paid, so there will be no nasty surprises for Fourthborn on that account.

I'll be more or less out of pocket for two weeks. Middlest, Wes and Sarah, Palmyra, Harmony, Kirtland, Nauvoo (again, woohoo!), Independence, Far West, Adam-Ondi-Ahman. Plus some touristy things and more than one gravesite.

I am 99% excited beyond words, and 1% apprehensive, but I had a priesthood blessing on Sunday and know that all will be well.

Cambria, if you're still reading the blog, I might manage a drive-by hugging when we're in your state. I'll see if I can remember to PM you between now and lights out.

Ms. Ravelled, over and out.

I want to knit. I need to write.

And if I sit back down at the keyboard, I'll fall down the rabbit hole again. Several days ago I got notification that there was a record. I clicked on the link. Different name. Tried again. Same result. The second name would be easy to find again. So I went looking for my dear departed hacker. Who turns out to be my first cousin twice removed.

I've spent several days connecting records on ancestry.com and linking people to Family Search. Tonight I reserved three of those names and released others so they could be done by temple patrons.

When I clicked on Harriet's name, I started sobbing. Same for her sister Lyddie. So I thought, I'll get Elizabeth, who died before she was ten. Nada. It was like walking into a wall. So I'll give it more time, see if I can find out more about her, and try again.

I also sent emails to two families who have reserved their father Jacob's work, which is mostly done. I hope to hear back from them soon.

I am going to finish the heel flap on this baby sock, and then I am going to bed. Maybe now these good people will let me sleep?

I'm going to the temple tomorrow night to do three sealings.

The master bath is nearly done. And even in its unfinished state, it's gorgeous.

This is where we were on Wednesday night.

The ugly old commode, out on the street.

The nekkid (this is Texas; that's a word) shower stall, waiting for redemption.

The wallboard torn up, behind where the new commode will go.

It looks a whole lot better than that now, but my phone is in the charger, and I'm trying to get back to sleep. I lay down for maybe half an hour, and my right calf was twitching, and my right neck was thinking about a charley horse, and I kept drifting into half-dreams where people were holding puppies that might have been possums. So I decided it was better to get up, fix myself a snack, and wait for some semblance of normal to roll around.

I got bushwhacked by a first cousin twice removed. There are now 3101 people on my family tree, and over 12,000 hints, and the Millenium, when communication between Them and Us is supposedly going to be easier, cannot come a moment too soon. This was one of the daughters of my great grandmother Sarah's brother Jacob. I think if she were still mortal, she would be extremely internet savvy, because she figured out a way to hijack a records notification in my email that linked to someone on my surname line. There are so many people, and so many records for them, that I can't work on them more than a couple of hours without getting physically wiped out. The good news is, several other somebodies are working these lines, and some of the work has been done, and some of it is reserved, and some is released to the general temple files.

I finally figured something out yesterday afternoon. When looking at family tree matches, it shows how many records are attached. And if I have more records attached to my person than most of the others do on their trees, I mostly only need to look at the trees with more records than I have, to see what's missing and if it's relevant. It's been fun to link to the related Family Search profile and be able to update others' research with records and more details.

I'm yawning again. Hoping that this time I can go to bed and stay there until daylight.

Today I will be emptying and sorting all (or some) of the boxes that Fourthborn and I pulled out of the middle bedroom on Saturday. The dead people are just going to have to wait their turn, because my handyman couple will be back tomorrow (Tuesday) morning to finish up (!!!!!) the guest loo.

Sorry: a little distracted here.

Haven't been sleeping well. Not entirely sure why. Wish it would stop.

Bought a new pillow when I was out and about yesterday, in hopes that it would do the trick. One night isn't much of a test. I'll get back to you. If I remember.

Work's been going well.

The first blue/green baby sock is done and the ends woven in. Second sock has been cast on, messed up in the first round, frogged, and cast on again.

My bed is piled high with stuff that I need to find a place for in the next half hour. The remodeling of the master loo has commenced. The old commode is out on the curb. The icky shower paneling is gone, as is much of the wallboard, preparatory to the wainscoting going in. The new shower surround is in its box, and leaning against one of the trees in my dining room. My dolls are hiding out in my sweater drawers. The tree frog shower curtain is draped across the foot of my bed.

My NOAA (weather alert) radio came in today's mail, and I just finished a run for more batteries so I can set it up properly. There's a possibility of tornadoes tomorrow afternoon or evening.

I haven't quilted in two days, as that time has been spent clearing a path for my remodeling crew. I did more of that last night after Knit Night and the last little bit this morning before work. My body is screaming for sleep. Therefore, I am going to shut this down and I guess move the various piles out here in the living room for the meantime. And maybe I will be horizontal and unconscious before 10:30.

Weird(ish) day

I slept well. I ate sensibly. And still I fought sleep much of the day. Nevertheless, I managed to stay productive, and I made progress on the current baby sock at Knit Night and while waiting outside the thrift shop afterward while Fourthborn shopped for boots for her Scarborough Faire costume. She scored a really sweet pair of black ankle boots and some dressy flip-flops. She paid for them with some of her tip money from drawing on Free Comic Book Day earlier this month.

The kid is good. What can I say.

I finished the first pair of baby socks knitted in one-row spirals from two compatible remnants of previous projects. (I cast on half of the stitches with the first color, the second half with the other, and worked the heel flaps in the lighter yarn.) Those were more or less the color of sherbet. I am currently using a muddy green and a smoky blue. The overall effect is dusk in a rainforest, with the occasional splotch of powder blue or acid green. It's almost hypnotic to watch the colors play together. And I feel both clever and frugal, as none of this lovely handpainted yarn will be going to waste.

That's all I've got for you today. My body is tired but not in pain. My eyes are heavy. I've taken my meds and am going to grab a small handful of chocolate covered ginger on the way to bed. Night, y'all.

Rather a wild week.

At Knit Night a week ago Tuesday, my acquired brother T was showing me a pattern on his phone, and as he leaned forward, he put his hand lightly on my knee. At which point my brain went into lockdown. We had a lovely extended conversation via text over the next day and a half. I knew he wasn't making a move. He knew I knew he wasn't making a move. It was an act of compassion, and it shook things loose.

The hardest thing about being single, before I married Beloved and since his passing, has been the general lack of touch. I am a high touch person living a low touch life. It would be simpler if I liked pets, but I don't.

I think it will be easier in some ways when Middlest is here. That mother-child connection is clear and pure and holy. It's a small house. We are likely to bump into one another.

But as for last Tuesday night, Pandora conspired against me on the drive home, and I was able to cry for the first time in weeks. Not a lot, maybe not more than fifteen or twenty seconds, but it helped.

So if you were wondering at my cryptic posts on FB about Brain and Body and Spirit bickering amongst themselves, now you have another piece of the puzzle. I'll likely be pondering it for some time to come.

In other news, I had my quarterly diabetes check day before yesterday, and my regular doctor had taken a couple of days off, so I saw one who has treated me for bronchial yuck at the night clinic. He listened to my constellation of symptoms and agreed that the anti-cholesterol medicine was the most likely suspect and yes, I should stop taking it. Symptoms: joint pain, weak and achy muscles, blurred vision, ravenous appetite, weight gain, brain fog, fitful sleep. I have no idea if it was doing nice things for my cholesterol, but it was definitely impinging upon my quality of life.

In the two days I have not taken it, the aching in my hip and knees is almost gone. It is easier to rise from the commode. My appetite is returning to normal. I slept seven hours night before last, and six and a half hours last night (less, because I was mucking out my studio and lost track of time).

I worked for an hour on cleaning my studio last night, and another half hour tonight. My stacking bins have gone to a good home. I have a bag and a half ready to go to the thrift store. I found my baby shoes. I reshelved some books and collected all of my shipping boxes into one place.

Logic would suggest that I focus on clearing out the middle bedroom so that Middlest will have a place to sleep. But my heart tells me to declutter my studio so that I can use it for my sewing and crafting, and thus declutter the dining room.

I've had two stellar days at work. My focus and retention are returning (it was getting a little scary).

I have so much more to say, but my body is screaming for sleep, and I'm going to honor that.

Knitlandia: A Knitter Sees the World

I've tried (twice) to add that to my list of things-read, to no avail. Will try again when I'm more awake. It's delightful. Quite possibly even if you are not a knitter.

I picked up a novel while at Costco last night and am two chapters in. Thus far, no language issues, even if it is a New York Times best-seller. I'm always surprised to like something on that list, as my standards of what makes a book "good" are significantly different from the world's.

I like honorable people solving problems in an honorable way. And villains getting their comeuppance. And clean language. And a strong female protagonist doesn't hurt. What I love best about Drew Barrymore's take on Cinderella is that she doesn't just sit around waiting to be rescued. Unlike the doomed heroine of Wuthering Heights, she doesn't create problems; she solves them. Not a big fan of Catherine and Heathcliff. Brats, the both of them. Not a big fan of Miz Scarlett, either. She finishes the novel as selfish, clueless, and unredeemed as when she began. Bitter, not better.

I'd write more, but I'm supposed to be getting ready for work. And I really do like my job.

Better.

Email exchanges throughout yesterday with my friend who owns the much-procrastinated quilt. A dash through Trader Joe's. 59-cent party tacos from Bueno, and several chapters in Clara Parkes' Knitlandia. I slept like a rock until a little after 3:00am, awoke with a vaguely unhappy stomach, sent down a toasted English muffin and a few sips of milk, and went right back to sleep.

Dreamed that Beloved and I were working on the house. I walked out into the garage, and he had cleared it entirely. Gleaming bare floor all the way to the garage door in front, and impeccably organized shelves. He was planning on a massive baking project, and he had needed something that was out in the garage.

Tonight I am planning to attend a BYU Management Society fireside with Brad Wilcox. But in order for that to happen, I need to get off the computer, put on my "know what I'm doing, I do" clothing, and scoot out the door.

I am hopeful that by the time I get to work, my bank will have fixed its technical issues, so I may double-check that my paycheck is in there and pay my tithing. Very frustrating to log on and be told that there was a problem with my log-on name and/or password. I even rebooted my computer. After the third try, I X'd out of the page and found their contact page, which had an OOPS, SORRY, WE'RE WORKING ON IT message.

Work. Yeah. I'm going, I'm going!

Who ate that week?

I finished the last small element of The Albatross tonight and have messaged its owner for feedback on how she'd prefer that I complete it. This is a king size quilt that I have been working on (or, mostly, not-working-on) for nearly a quarter of my life. All thirty-six blocks are done. But there's a spot along one edge where the backing doesn't quite meet the front, and I need to know if she wants me to patch the back or trim the quilt by half an inch all the way around.

I worked on it fairly steadily at first, interrupted by Secondborn’s wedding, then Firstborn’s, and then four of the eight CPCU courses, until late 2003, when Firstborn led me into Mary Kay. The children's father had been out of work for awhile (he was out of work for over a year, and thus we got no child support).

Selling makeup provided a faster source of income while also eating up huge chunks of time, during which I might otherwise have been finishing the quilt. And then LittleBit hit high school, and we were suddenly busier than I had been with four children still at home.

She graduated in 2008, I moved to Fort Worth a week later, and I rode the train to and from work in Dallas until Beloved came into my life. It's reasonably easy to knit on a train. Not so easy to lug a king size quilt onto the train and keep it from getting stepped on. It didn't help when I was called to be the RS president in my ward.

Every time I saw her quilt folded up and waiting patiently in my studio, both in Fort Worth and since I moved here, I reminded myself that I needed to finish it. At the first of this year, I found my thimble and the two spools of black quilting thread. I was dismayed to see that the blocks were only a little over halfway done. I've chipped away at them, some days only five or ten minutes, but something on it every day of the week but Sunday.

I cannot find the French bias binding that I carefully assembled and pressed, a decade and a half ago. I know that I didn't throw it away. But I cannot for the life of me remember which box or tub it might be in.

So I'll need to buy a yard of black patterned fabric and make more binding. My goal is to have the borders quilted and the quilt bound off and handed over before I leave to get Middlest. That gives me approximately a month and a half. I'm also returning the commission fee, with interest, because hello? For someone who used to be a quilting professional, not professional at all. I just checked her FB profile, and she's widowed, like me. This was supposed to be a non-surprise quilt for her husband, who was colorblind but could see these colors.

Oh bleep.

If you will all excuse me, I'm going to go beat myself up and go to bed.

Mostly calm and wonderful here.

With a side order of mild panic when I thought I'd lost the files I'd scanned after shredding the originals. So I did a test scan and found the folder. Whew! Also, sheesh!

Monday I dropped off the rectangular frame to have a mirror cut and glued in. Then I made a beeline for Guitar Center and spent the better part of an hour trying out their electric pianos. I found one I like and several that thrilled me not. I made notes in Evernote. I'm not ready to buy, but I am getting itchy.

I am on the home stretch with The Albatross. One more fiddly section, and then some fairly straightforward stuff, and I might be done before Labor Day. One can hope.

Yesterday I got to watch two of our attorneys in action. The downside is that between a long lunch and leaving two hours early on Monday, plus yesterday afternoon, I lost almost one full day of working time. When I got back to the office at a quarter to five, there were 65 emails waiting for me. So while I was sluicing off this morning, I was also praying like crazy, and Heaven came through as usual. Notwithstanding another hour lost for mandatory training in preparation for mandatory records management, I got the mail wrangled and my inbox whipped into shape.

Tomorrow is another long lunch, this one for Administrative Professionals Day. My guys are taking me to lunch somewhere, no idea where as of now. Last year it was the restaurant at Neiman Marcus.

I'm yawning. So I'll do the sensible thing and make myself a mango yogurt smoothie in lieu of a third chocolate chip cookie. And then I'll work on The Albatross for a bit, pick up the dropped stitches on my church knitting, and call it a night.

More from the Main Street Arts Festival

There was another artist who did amazing needle-felted landscapes inlaid into blocks or chunks of wood. My favorites were the ones felted onto weaving shuttles.

A man who does portraits composed of word collages. The print I liked best, of a couple reading together on a couch, surrounded by books, is not on the website.

A woman who reverse-paints on glass, just a riot of colors.

And one who had ceramic coasters, nightlight covers, and sculptures like piano keys, but Fourthborn reminded me that I have a plethora of coasters. Le sigh… Note: that gorgeous mural at the Park and Ride on I-30 just east of Belt Line? Her work.

Two from the Fab Four

I'm picking up Fourthborn after church, and we're heading to Firstborn's. Hilarity, and brownies will ensue. I told them, I don't want cake. I don't want cupcakes. I want cheesecake. Or brownies.

And next year I want a huge (inexpensive) party.

And, briefly, he was there.

Fourthborn and I went to the Main Street Arts Festival in Fort Worth after working on the house today. I was leafing through prints in one booth when one knocked the breath out of me. Two cranes silhouetted against a full moon, over water, the moon’s reflection forming a heart.

I murmured to Fourthborn, “Aren’t cranes symbolic of eternal love?” And as she quietly replied, “Yes,” Beloved’s spirit was there. Tears welled up as I said, “He’s here.” Fourthborn gently scratched my back as the tenderness washed over me.

“Foreverglades” by Lisa Loudermilk, an artist from Austin, TX

Yes, it followed me home. As did one similar to this, but smaller, in blues, and unframed (i.e., affordable).

I'll post links to the other artists I liked, some other time. It's 9:00pm, and I need a light dinner, and then I'm going to bed.

Busy. And maybe a little crazy.

Mostly terrific day at work. By the end of the day I had about had it with SemperFi, who was balking at a new bureaucratic procedure. If Bennigan's still existed in its old format, dinner would have been Death by Chocolate. But the one remaining Bennigan's within driving distance (assuming that it's still open since the last time I was in) has reinvented Death by Chocolate as an adult beverage, and that was not an option for Ms. Ravelled.

As it was, I lugged home everything I'd taken to work and went back out to look for a shelf/ish/like something to go between where the wainscoting will top out and where the mirror will go. World Market. No luck. Pier One. No luck. Hobby Lobby. No luck. By which time I was starving, so I fired up Waze and headed to Saltgrass Steakhouse for another of those delicious smothered sirloins. Mine was more medium than medium rare tonight, but it was still tasty and tender. I brought home half of it and more than half of my baked sweet potato for tomorrow's lunch.

And now I'm going to take my meds and set the timer for 15 to 20 minutes and stitch. I can't go to bed right away without risking a visit from the Indigestion Fairy, and I just got myself back into my usual good mood.

There are days when retirement is the loveliest goal in my future. Today was one of them. With a side of order of "let's hang all the lawyers." Tomorrow is just about guaranteed to be better. It's Friday. It's payday. There's a doll meet with Fourthborn at PieFive. And we'll make more progress on the house tomorrow night and Saturday.

Before

This is what the master bath has looked like (structurally, at least) since I moved in four years ago. The amount and category of clutter has varied from time to time.

The walls of the shower stall are some sort of paneling, and Beloved told me that he'd erred in not taking them farther down the wall when he put this in. As you can see, mold and who knows what are there and need to be gone.

The sink obviously needs to be replaced. Yesterday I bought a one-piece vanity top in a warm white, and a sidesplash to go along with it. They will hold an oil-rubbed bronze faucet and handles. The old vanity is sound, and will stay.

The little red shelf, toothbrush holder, and medicine cabinet will go. The dated and boring beige tile is also going. It will be replaced by beadboard paneling on that wall and on the window wall facing it, and will be painted creamy white to match the trim throughout the house. The large mirror that I got from Wes and Sarah when they moved, will go up on that wall, unless I decide to spring for the mirror-trimmed one at Pier One, as it is still available (on sale!!! which presumably means on closeout) at the Garland store and may come home with me tomorrow after work. I'll have to ponder that and take my swatches with me.

The new shower stall will include a new shower pan, a place to sit, no tile or grout, and improved grab rails. All part of my plan to age in place. And there will be a place to plug in my blow dryer for those rare times when I feel impressed to use it.

I also trekked to Fort Worth to buy the vessel sink for the upgrade to the guest loo, which will not happen until next year, when I get that tax refund and bonus.

I am using the same husband/wife handyman couple who did my friend Sandy's bathroom remodel. If I had known (A) what I wanted in a remodel and (B) how reasonable the change is going to be, I might have done this a couple of years ago. But Fourthborn and I have been having so much fun working on the house, and up to this point we've been able to do everything that needed to be done. If I'm as pleased with the work as I suspect I will be, I'll be having these two back to upgrade the guest loo and help us finish out the kitchen.

They will probably start in two weeks, and it should take about a week. So in a month or so, I will have more pictures for you.

Song of the sleep-deprived

I got less than six hours of sleep last night. My knitting was exciting, but not so much as to account for that. I got through this day by grit and prayer. It was not a bad day, and I accomplished a lot, and because I was able to help a friend who had been off for several days (by calendaring trial dates and a scheduling order), I stayed productively active for most of my workday.

I cancelled plans with a girlfriend for tonight. Picked up Bueno on the drive home, ate that, washed my hands, and worked on The Albatross for a little over an hour while doing a load of darks. Knitted a couple of rounds on the stealth project for Christmas. Listened to classical music. Finished another chapter in the library book on the seven basic plots. Updated my spreadsheets and transferred money from my checking account to my savings account to cover the tank of gas I put in the Tardis.

It is weird to look at my balance sheet and see that I have more money in savings that I have saved, personally, than at any time before.

I haven't heard back from the guy who upcycles furniture. I'll have to give him another call tomorrow, assuming that I still remember in the morning. I would really like to have that church pew gone on Saturday.

In other happy news, my mortgage payment on Monday was the new, lesser amount, reflecting the change in my escrow payment. I wasn't expecting that to happen until next month.

Going to bed now. Hoping for better sleep tonight.

Saturday is going to be wild

Taking the Tardis in for safety inspection, including fixing the hyperactive left turn signal. Bulb out in the left rear, for about a week now. Sounds as if someone had poured cappuccino into the carburetor. And fixing the brake light that's part of the camper shell. And checking the brakes (I've had a couple of hard stops in the past few weeks). And checking the alignment.

The first handyman will also be coming over to give me an estimate, once I get home from the mechanic's.

And I've put a call in to the guy from whom I bought the console table which serves as my computer desk, and the corner chair, because his ears perked up last fall when I asked if he might be interested in the church pew that used to live in my dining room. I hope to hear back from him in the next day or so.

Plus the usual laundry, and we're hoping that the weather will be perfect to start mucking out the garage so that we can move a few items out there preparatory to ripping up the carpet in the middle bedroom and laying down vinyl plank flooring.

And Fourthborn has one or two doors left to paint, but mostly we will be attempting to clear the decks to turn the middle bedroom into, well, a bedroom.

I've just finished another installment of The Albatross and am giving my hands a rest from that. Will knit a smidgen on a stealth project for Christmas, but mostly I want to work on Middlest's doll's sweater sleeve, now that I have more color options. I'd like to get a pattern started so I'll know which balls of yarn to throw into my knitting bag for Knit Night.

Made some progress on the shredding pile last night. And the Sunday sessions of General Conference were amazing. But the cherry on the top was a quick visit from some friends, because I had posted a chinstrap for a CPAP on the ward's RS Facebook page, and they thought it might work for the husband. More stuff productively re-homed, huzzah! And he shared a little story with me. I mentioned how thankful I was that they had been on Team Me from the moment they found out that Beloved was dating me, and the husband said that in his conversations with Beloved when they went fishing, it was only ever me.

So now I want to know when Beloved knew that he was in love with me and wanted to marry me, even if he didn't have enough medical information (i.e., a good-enough prognosis) for him to think it fair to ask me. It's not an answer that's crucial to my eternal salvation, but I am curious.

And on that happy note, I'm going to log off and go play with yarn.