How slow, you ask? Slow enough that today, after sending out my "will type for food" email, I finished reading one issue of The Economist and made a good start on another. At this rate, I should be all caught up by the time our office is ready for us to return.
I'm having fun working on my sister's birthday present. I'm having fun with Zentangle. I'm madly in love with the new translation of the New Testament.
Which is now calling to me in dulcet tones. Night, y'all!
I got through the day on about five hours of sleep. Usual breakfast, stop at Chick-Fil-A because I had a gift card. That bowl kept me full until lunchtime. All that I ate from my lunch bag were two small breadsticks and my pistachio-and-Craisin mix. A very few ounces of Coke, and I was buzzing all day. I'd been home for over an hour when I finally wound down. I managed my 5000 steps for the day (currently sitting at 5303), but I will not make today's knitting goal or do any drawing. Instead, I'm taking my meds about an hour early, turning off the light, and hoping for about nine hours of sleep. Pretty sure that a lot of this weekend will be spent horizontal and unconscious. Although there *is* family brunch on Saturday morning. Night, y'all.
We had one tonight, via conference call, with 80% of the kids and one son in love, regarding the children's father, who is Not Doing Well. We came to consensus on what needs to be done, and we have various tasks broken down by who is best suited for it. We talked on the phone for a little over an hour, and everyone was polite and thoughtful and helpful, just like families are supposed to be. I wish our family home evenings had been like this when they were little. (Instead of being the only family fight that begins and ends with prayer.) I am so proud of these people that their father and I made. Further affiant sayeth naught.
I finished last night's Zentangle and a new one before the conference call. I was halfway done with the next when I put my pens down. I finished it afterward and ate one and only one small bite of Nutella, and read a little more and noodled on Facebook and it's midnight and I'm not sleepy and I have to leave for work in a bit less than eight hours.
Blest be the ties that bind. Even 23 years post-divorce and six years post sealing cancellation and sealing to Beloved. I wish he (Beloved, obviously) were here tonight.
... how much I like nectarines. I bought one, and only one, the other day because I didn't know if Middlest or Fourthborn like them, and I wasn't sure if I was up to eating three of them. I left it in the plastic bag and put it in the fridge.
This morning I decided I'd better eat it before it died of old age. Didn't want to squirt juice all over my clothing, so I sliced it six ways from Sunday and thumbed the sections into a small take-along.
After eating my sandwich, I only had room for one bite. So now I am sitting in bed, noodling around on my phone, and eating the rest of the nectarine. Cutting it up was one of the better ideas I've had. Because as much as I didn't want to get juice all over my clothes or my chin, I especially don't want to get it on the sheets.
I spent about half of the day in a series of meetings, which I guess is a pretty good thing, because I didn't have all that much to do until the last hour or so. New case, answer thankfully not due for another week, and a full set of discovery that I can clean up for our paralegal when I'm back on Monday morning.
Plan for this weekend is to putter a little and create a lot. More Zentangle. More knitting. Maybe start putting some of my bead acquisitions together for new earrings. A whole lot of reading, I hope.
Nectarine is finished. And so, my dears, am I.
I may have moaned and gritched about this. If so, I've slept since then. The 20th anniversary (with the corporation) gift which I chose was a designer bag, of the brand which Firstborn prefers. I didn't open the box for something like a week. When I did, the purse was smaller than I'd envisioned, and I certainly couldn't lug all the stuff that I was accustomed to. And I wasn't sure that I liked it all that much. It retailed for nearly half again as much as the bag I chose five years ago, which is hanginging dejectedly from a knob on one of my dressers, whimpering in leathery tones, "Don't you love me anymore?"
There are a few things that I'm discovering that I like about the new bag. It fits neatly under my arm and stays on my sloping shoulder, probably because it weighs five pounds max, and not fifteen. Like me, it has a quirky shape. It's black, so it works for work or church or family brunch at IKEA.
I'm hard on bags. My favorite was a large red leather tote from Franklin (as in Franklin Planner) that I bought half-off at a price that nearly choked me. And was a fraction of what either of these bags would retail for. Good purses, like good steaks, should cost less than $10. Right? I stuffed that bag like a pregnant elephant, and it lasted at least five years. The bag which is in timeout no longer stands tall like a soldier on review. It bulges out on the front and back. It has hourglass creases on the sides. And it probably has another 15-20 years of usefulness left. I'm wondering how well this fancier bag will last. It's more delicately constructed.
In other news, if you start drinking 64 ounces of water a day, and one day you drink half that much, your hands and forearms will tattle on you. I'm naming the left one Mojave and the other one Sahara.
When the workmen tore out the last of the kitchen cabinets at work this past weekend, they discovered mold. Our office manager texted us last night that we would tentatively open at 1pm, pending what a mold expert had to say. Midmorning, we got another text, stating that we were closed for the day and that there would be another text no later than 8pm regarding whether we would open tomorrow.
Currently, we are looking at a tentative opening time of 1pm but are not to go in until we get the all clear, which may not happen until close to noon. Followed half an hour ago with notice that the kitchen would be sealed off and completely unavailable and to plan accordingly, if we are allowed to go in.
So, what have I done today? Read. Knitted. Read some more. Gone out for dim sum with doll friends to celebrate Middlest's birthday, which was yesterday. Napped. Read, again. Tidied my room a little more. Gathered up clothing for donation. Finessed the timing for salmon burgers in my George Foreman grill. After eating rather too much dim sum and the consequent nap, my body was vaguely hungry but pleaded, No more carbs, please, for the love of all that's good and holy.
I have trundled the trash bin down to the street and am now enjoying my cool, quiet bedroom, about to wash my evening meds down with buttermilk, which minimizes the dysphagia. And then I'll turn out one light and read (surprise!) by the other until my eyes say we're done. No need to set the alarm tonight.
I could get used to this.
You know how lots of people don't want to engage with others in the morning until they've had one or many cups of coffee? Not an option since my baptism 44 years ago next month. (Plus, I never really liked the stuff. It just makes me sweat and skip to the loo.)
I can't say if I've been this way all my life or if it began when I had a houseful of teenagers and a growing disconnect in my marriage to their father. But I crave solitude at the beginning and end of the day.
At various times I've ma'amaged this by mall walking or by doing needlework in the foyer when the kids were in seminary or by having a mini-devotional or by going to the gym. (Walking several laps in cool water brings both alertness and calm. It's as close to Zen as I'm likely to get without knitting in my hands.)
I finally found the metaphor for this over breakfast with Middlest a week or so ago. (I think Fourthborn was still snoozing.) Defragging. He nodded in recognition.
Most days I've spent enough time awake in my room, with three quick games on my phone followed by diving into my scriptures, that I can genuinely enjoy any available companionship over breakfast. I am both ready and delighted to be civil.
Other days, especially those where sleep or dreams went sideways, I just want to stay in my room until it's time to deal with the breakfast dishes, sluice off, and slink out the door to work.
~~~
It's been a good weekend. Decent progress on Middlest's scarf/cowl. (Maybe I should just call it a scowl?) I've eaten wisely and well. There has been napping. And masses of reading. Church was great, as usual. I've tried to be sensible about media consumption. Spent time hanging out with the dead people after church today. Discovered that I have a plethora of fourth cousins here in Texas. I've made goals for non-scriptural reading for this week. Just need to go into Come, Follow Me and bookmark the lesson, the readings, and the adjunct material. The videos for last week's reading were deeply touching.
Middlest has been the primary document shredder chez nous for quite some time. I've tossed a lot of paper onto the shred pile in the past week and a half. Thankfully, he's not had a chance to do anything about that. Because I accidentally sorted the current bill for my long term care premium into the shred pile, and three minutes of careful digging has retrieved it.
Work went well today. And on one of my skips to the loo, I was able to help an attorney in another firm on our floor get back into her suite. No, I did not pick the lock. I had my phone with me. She gave me her number. An associate answered and came to let her in.
Not much knitting so far today. I'm going to put things away, turn down the lights, and try to go to bed by 9pm, aiming for a solid eight hours before morning.
I've mentioned that the office is being remodeled. The support columns throughout our office used to have mahogany(ish) baseboards around them. Even the round ones. I think all of the columns have been repainted at this point. Two of the round ones have now have vinyl baseboards. I asked the managing attorney if this was going to be the new aesthetic. She hadn't noticed.
This, after a morning in which the workmen were drilling ten feet from my desk when I got to work. It was audible all the way across the office. It continued for another hour or so, until someone spoke to someone who spoke with someone else, who made it stop. The managing attorney was not made aware of it until after it was blessedly quiet. (Both she and the office manager were elsewhere at the time.)
Mid-afternoon, the head of the building management company arrived in our suite with a peace offering: at least two dozen fresh from the oven cookies from Tiff's Treats.
The renovation guys were absent yesterday, and they're not supposed to be working tomorrow or over the weekend.
In knitting news, Middlest's cowl-in-embryo is now a scarf just short of two feet long. I've knitted up all of the pre-knitted dark blue but am still soldiering away on the lighter blue. Also, I found my little red clicker row counter. And three separate patterns that had gone AWOL.
Furthermore, I've sorted through massive amounts of accumulated paperwork that I collected last Saturday: trash, recycling, shredding, and deal with it already. There's a half inch stack of envelopes in the last category, in a pile by my left elbow.
I caught up my financial spreadsheets, and my credit score is four points higher than last month. Baby steps. I had some momentary panic last week when I learned how much dental work the kids need, according to the dentist who's filling in for our regular dentist while he deals with an acute health issue. Assuming he concurs, it will have to be piecemeal.
OK, I'm going to tackle the deal with it pile. Later, gators.
Banana bread is my nemesis. Or my Waterloo. Or my anti-matter. One of my coworkers made two loaves this weekend and brought them to work. I did my impression of a sensible diabetic and took half a slice. And then the other half. And then...
Predictably, within the hour I had the woozies. I ate the high protein portion of my lunch to even things out. Midafternoon, my right knee started aching like it used to. (My joints have been much less crabby since I made a general improvement in my diet, so for almost a month now.)
Lesson learned. I can only have banana bread when 23 other people are in line to fight me for it.
In knitting news, I've made a lot of progress on Middlest's scarf that will become a cowl. It's nearly two feet long, and I'm still having fun with it.
In order-out-of-chaos news, I tackled a small corner of my room. Disposed of Beloved's two Rolodex files. Consolidated two batches of UFOs into one basket. Scooched the banjo into a more secure spot. There is still a three inch high pile of paperwork that was resting under various bags. I'll deal with that in a day or two.
I am now free to knit with a clear conscience. And I will probably go to bed early tonight, the better to sleep off today's culinary minefield.
So, yesterday I cleared off the bed. The following was the inspiration that came to me during my friend Andrea's talk in sacrament meeting. I listened with one ear and thought with the other.
Set goals that will enable me to finish the month of July with a room that is neat, clean, and orderly.
I don't understand why homemaking is so hard for me. When the kids were little, that was one reason. I was outnumbered, overwhelmed, and underfunded. As the nest emptied, it didn't get much easier. But it was all my own mess.
Anxiety meds have helped, significantly. And now two of my kids have moved back. They brought a lot of stuff with them, and their stuff is only a very small part of the problem. The mess and the clutter and the chaos is mine. With Heaven's help I can do better. I might even be able to conquer this before I go Home.
(At which point I resumed taking notes on the talks my friends were giving.)
I'm pleased to say that I had a great, relatively brief nap this afternoon. I've read a few articles in The Economist, listened to a couple of General Conference addresses, a podcast about insincere apologies, determined that a reference book on the Gospels can go back out into the bookcase in the living room since we start on Acts tomorrow, finished a chapter in the first volume of Saints, reneged on my intention to write members of Congress about the warehoused children on our southern border, read an article by Dr. James Dobson that gives a slightly different perspective on the problem, and pondered the uproar among liberals for Wayfair selling mattresses to provide for those kids. Which seems to me to be a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I'd be happier about it if they'd donated the mattress, but I can't fault them for remembering that they are a business.
There's a lot bouncing around in my head right now. I need time and space and peace to think about it all. But for now I'm going to take 15 seconds to clear off my bed (because it shouldn't take much longer after yesterday's efforts), turn off the lights, and let Heaven and my subconscious wrangle with it all.
This will probably be written in stages. The alarm clock said that I slept for seven and a half hours. My body said otherwise. And my dreams were more weird than usual. I was attending church in an unfamiliar building with a huge parking lot, on Easter Sunday, wrapped only in a towel. I left the meeting right after taking the sacrament, because I didn't want anyone to notice(!). And then I couldn't find my car. And it was raining and very, very dark. My dad drove up to help me look. He's been gone almost 30 years. I have no idea what all of that means. I just woke up feeling dazed and slightly dark.
~~~
In which your intrepid heroine spends a couple of hours listening to "Revisionist History" while turning worn out, unsalvageable items into rags. Because she needs to clear off the bed, dust the headboard, throw away the old cheap comforter that's been living inside the nice Pottery Barn duvet cover since after Beloved's funeral, likewise the flannel sheet with holes engraved into it by her alligator heels, wash and put away the duvet cover until winter, when maybe there will be sufficient progress on the honey-do list to justify a nice duvet filler from IKEA.
All this because a cup of the sherbet from hell tipped over and spilled mango raspberry fire onto the partially shredded sheet (and the otherwise impeccable duvet cover). Thus forcing her to finally deal with the archaeological dig which is her bed. PSA: the raspberry mango spicy sherbet from Braums is evil, and you have been warned.
~~~
I've spent the better part of the day sorting out my bed. Clothes hung up; compression socks that had escaped my notice are now matched, rolled up, and in the sock drawer; old comforter extricated from the duvet cover, which is currently tumbling in the dryer; a load of whites washed and waiting their turn; half an issue of "The Economist" devoured and almost ready for recycling; a few rows of knitting; etc. etc. etc.
I learned something while wrangling the duvet cover. It has ribbons sewn into the inside corners to hog-tie whatever one chooses to insert.
Old dog. New tricks.
I am going to need my muscle relaxer tonight. I've been using my phone as a Fitbit. It thinks I've only walked seven steps today. My feet would argue otherwise, but my pajama pants don't have pockets. So it really is true about lies, d@mn lies, and statistics.
PS: I'll have to do a bit more reorganizing in my boudoir before I can lay hands on the lambswool duster. It's around here somewhere...
I think I mentioned in my big, catch-up post that I'd received a certified letter about Lorelai's having been towed. I was finally able to connect with an authority figure at the towing company to determine that the registered owner (no longer me, for something like two years) has also been contacted.
There will be another certified letter in the next few days, because I'm still listed as a former owner on the state's system, and I can safely ignore it.
I just didn't want to be the reason that the new owner never got notice of whom to contact to free Lorelai from car jail.
I've lost another two pounds through improved diet and increased movement. Furthermore, the weird drowsiness and incessant appetite have disappeared. I think my wonderful doctor will be pleased when I see her in August.
I've struggled for years with being on time for work, averaging slightly over one tardy per month. In January I was successful every blessed day. I rewarded myself by splurging on three new lipsticks and two lip pencils.
February, March, April, and May were pretty sad. But I met my goal for June, and this month's reward will be art supplies. There's a YouTube artist I follow who draws Zentangle tiles. To shade some of them, she's used aquarelle (watercolor) graphite pencils. I am charmed! I already have a healthy supply of colorful aquarelles. I've been playing with them for almost 30 years. I've also been trying my hand with Zentangle. It's slow going, because I have to be in the mood, and mostly I'd rather knit.
I think of it mostly as a way to train my hand and eyes. I've seen a charming landscape created from various doodles, and once I have a better grasp of how to draw and combine them, I'd like to try doing still life drawings incorporating them. They appeal to the part of my brain that likes math, logic puzzles, and whimsy.
My phone wants to call it a day. It's down to 29%, and frankly so am I. Looking forward to a good night's sleep and some solid puttering tomorrow.
I've eaten sensibly today, traveled safely, and gotten stuff done at work. Right now I am contemplating a plate with the last four strawberries and a fat handful of cherries. It is balanced atop a mug of V8.
There's been some knitting, with time to do a little more before bedtime if I choose. I don't have the ambition to draw or make music tonight.
Today I submitted this month's medical receipts for reimbursement. I was a little surprised that it won't entirely use up the balance in my fund.
And I finished straightening out some weirdness with an old, closed credit card. That account has been closed for over fifteen years. When I got the notice, in my prior married name, regarding opting out of their arbitration agreement, I thought at first that I'd been hacked.
I went to a local branch yesterday, where I was informed by a teller that the account was closed but had been racking up interest over the years with a balance now owing of $3700!!! So I waited and waited to speak with the only banker on duty, and he gave me a number to call.
I did that today. She reassured me that the account was closed, that I had paid the balance in full, and that I owed them nothing.
Whew!
So all I need to do now is get word to Lorelai's registered owner on who towed her and how to get her out of car jail. Because the notice got sent to me. Apparently s/he never bothered to get me off the title.
We've all calmed down about the pending dental work and are waiting to hear back at wonderful dentist's convenience.
It's been a much better day in my neighborhood.
Andrea, thank you for the lovely comment that you left.
I miss blogging. I'm trying to figure out how to shoehorn all the things I want to do into my day, and great chunks are falling to the wayside.
Part of this is because of how much time I'm spending in the scriptures because of "Come, Follow Me." Some of it is because we moved Fourthborn in, in stages, and that took up a bunch of April and May.
She's all moved in, and I'm delighted, as is Middlest. We haven't had the chance to do the garage remodel, so currently Fourthborn is camped out in the living room, as she has been when she's visited ever since Middlest moved in. She's no longer sleeping in a pallet on the floor, or on one or the other of the geriatric cots that I inherited from Beloved. We have a very nice secondhand mattress for her, and she's significantly more comfortable.
However. Her bed is about two feet from my computer, and all three of us are on significantly different sleep schedules. If you can call them that. I learned to type on a manual typewriter, and I type loudly. Right now I'm swyping on my phone, which has its own challenges.
I'll try to bring y'all up to date before my evening meds kick in. Earlier this month, Middlest and I visited our friends in Tennessee and brought home the last dab of stuff. The living room and dining room look like an active game of Tetris.
We saw the ducks march at the Peabody Hotel in Memphis. I could get used to valet parking and five star service.
I bought the lap harp that I fell in love with on our previous visit. I've tuned it and am learning to play "Rock of Ages." I bought two skeins of souvenir yarn.
I've downloaded an app and am tracking all sorts of stuff. Because of that, I'm making better choices about what I eat. I've lost a (very) few pounds.
We had an active shooter in downtown Dallas a week ago Monday. They evacuated our building, which is kitty corner to the Federal Building. I went home and dug out the banjo and knitted.
This Monday we had some clueless guy who parked his semi by the Federal Building and wandered away. That shut down the central business district for about four hours. I was able to get into our parking garage, and before it was time to log in, they told us to evacuate. No bomb in the semi, and we reopened at 11, which made for a short and frustratingly unproductive day. I was rather cranky on the way home.
Today I'm off, because we had our every four month dental cleanings. Our wonderful dentist is quite ill, but there is hope. The substitute is very professional, and she recommends a boatload of work on each of my bipolar bears, to the tune of approximately ten grand. I was ready to weep by the time it was my turn in the chair.
I've quietly requested that our dentist review the treatment plans and X-rays, determine how much of this is urgent, and prioritize everything.
It looks as if Fourthborn will be camping on the floor awhile longer and the garage revamp may get pushed back until next year.
That's all I've got for you at the moment. I need to swig more buttermilk, as dinner is sending up a few fireworks. Imagine that!
This week's issue of "The Economist" came in today's mail. I skipped Knit Night and am already 26 pages in. Ergo, speed is picking up, and I'm recognizing bits of narrative from week to week. Oh yeah, that country. They've been having a problem with X, and they're trying Y as a solution, and it just might be working.
Brilliant political cartoon on page 10, with the POTUS as a raging bison and the Republicans and Democrats attempting team-roping.
The knitting continues. As does my slow, deliberate reading of The Book of Mormon, highlighting every reference to the Savior.
Best meme I've seen this week, shared by a wonderfully quirky shop I used to patronize in Fort Worth.
TEXAS: Hey Fall, you coming?
FALL: Yeah, me and Winter about to pull up right now.
Night, y'all.
(Even if it doesn't format as nicely as when I work from my keyboard.) ShutUpMaggie woke Middlest and me well before our respective alarms. It made for some punch-drunk conversation over breakfast.
Nevertheless, I had a quietly productive day at work. Hoping for another one tomorrow.
I'm interested in what my A1C reflects when I check in later this month. My appetite has been greater than usual, and the breakfast I eat at home is barely enough to fuel the drive to work. Sometimes I have to get an order of scrambled eggs from the deli. I think it might be the turmeric. Not sure if I need to start testing my blood sugar, but I'm going to discuss that with her. I don't know if I'm having spikes or crashes. Maybe we just need to reduce my Metformin?
I also need to figure out how to magically lose seven pounds before the next appointment. And start eating more salads again. And. And. And.
Made my first batch of overnight oatmeal a little bit so. Pumpkin spice, heavy on the spice.
Leftie is coming along nicely. I wove in two sets of ends tonight. Mostly I read the issue of The Economist which arrived on Monday. But now it's time to read my scriptures and try for an early bedtime. I'm happy. I'm also verging on knackered.
I'm hoping that tomorrow I will get the binding assembled and machine stitched to the front of the quilt. And then I can hand stitch the binding down a few hours at a time. That will surely be easier on my hands than all of this quilting. I have three fingertips that are pretty seriously chewed up.
The heel flap is done on the second baby sock, and I'm ready to pick up stitches for the gusset.
I've done nothing on Leftie today. But I've read another eight pages in The Economist, which gives me a somewhat similar sense of accomplishment.
Time to read my scriptures and go to bed. We're meeting again tomorrow for our fledgling brunch tradition.
They fired it up for me, and it was so great to see the picture of Beloved and me taken outside the temple after his eldest son's sealing (my wallpaper).
I've pretty much noodled away the evening, messing about on my phone. I was listening to a chapter in 3 Nephi when I got distracted trying to figure out how many people have been translated without tasting death. Moses. Elijah. Elisha. Alma. John the Beloved. The three Nephites. I wonder if there are others from the Old Testament, or if the priesthood keys which they held were transmitted to Peter, James and John after the death of Christ. I wonder if Moroni was translated or if the Lamanites finally caught up with him and murdered him. I wonder if there are other translated beings from among the lost ten tribes after Christ ministered to them. (I wonder if their wives were also translated. Those would be some pretty amazing senior missions!)
I used to think that we would need little red wagons to convey our scriptures church after we get the records of the lost ten tribes. But I think that smartphones will probably take care of that problem.
Going to bed now.
Last week was weird and intense and expensive and mostly fun. I saw the podiatrist on Monday afternoon. I've been semiconsistent with my exercises, and not at all compliant about wearing shoes at home. But basically my foot feels much better.
On Tuesday, Middlest rode in with me, as we had eye appointments that afternoon. I left my phone in Diana and went down to get it. As I was putting the key back in my bag, I realized that my wallet was still on my bed at home. So we left at 2:30, got tangled up in traffic, fetched my wallet, got tangled up in more traffic, and called saying we were almost there but might be a few minutes late.
As it turned out, only one minute late when we pulled into the parking lot. Middlest's Rx is unchanged. My left eye is slightly less nearsighted. My right eye is significantly less nearsighted. I've been fitted for new specs but am postponing the purchase until October's SS check.
None of us (including Fourthborn) were up for Knit Night, so we went to our favorite sit down TexMex restaurant for dinner. Took Fourthborn home, drove back here, and basically collapsed.
Wednesday and Thursday were unremarkable except for the amount of money I spent. Friday we went to our friends' home for dinner. It was sprinkling here. It was raining moderately there. When we left, the sky had opened up. We were parked right by the stairs, and I was soaked to the skin before I got in the car. There were parts of the drive where we were going 35mph on a 70mph toll road, flashers going, and we were by far not the only ones. Uncomfortable reminder of the rainstorm we endured along the Great Lakes two years ago. Scary!!!
Yesterday I'd hoped to stay in my jammies all day, but my Rx was ready, so out I went. Intermittent sprinkles and downpours. As I rounded one turn in the inside lane, a car in the middle lane sloshed by, and a lot of water hit my windshield suddenly. I couldn't see where the concrete median was. I couldn't see the light pole I'd been approaching. I braked hard and hoped for the best. Getting rear ended twice in a month was not my idea of a real good time. Thankfully, nothing happened, but I've been jittery ever since.
Ate a sensible breakfast before church and still fought sleep while sitting up on the stand. So I came home after sacrament meeting, had a snack, and slept for four hours.
The beading class I was looking forward to tomorrow afternoon has cancelled, because I'm the only one who signed up for it. The woman who was going to teach it will be working in the shop. I'm taking the time off as scheduled, picking out supplies that will complement my wardrobe, and picking the teacher's brain re: technique.
And now I'm going to try sleeping again.
Got the confirmation today. They're overnighting the payout to Exorbitant Bank. Called my insurance agent and had them take the Tardis off as of last Thursday and update the loss payee to my credit union. Goodbye, multi-car discount. You were nice while you lasted.
In other news, my old roommate posted a picture of my 1998 chapbook to FB. She was cleaning things out, found it, and reread it. I'm glad she felt it had held up to time. I laughingly say that I've written the world's largest collection of pissed-off wife poetry. As well as (I think 300?) Mormon limericks.
I actually made it to Knit Night tonight. I've turned the heel on the baby sock and am ready to pick up stitches for the gussets. Before that, I hit the fabric store for a fresh supply of betweens and a handful of other items, including a needle threader with an LED light. How cool is that? I also bought small stacking boxes to organize my needles, pins, and various small tools. I'm tired of having to look in three or four unlabeled containers for what I need.
I suspect I'll be spending a good part of the weekend mucking out my studio, which looks like an explosion in a sweatshop.
On that happy note, I'll go to bed.
Which is not the same as nonsense. Or nunsense. Actually, it was another good day. Found a new home for my lawnmower. Tossed the weed whacker in, just to be rid of it. There is now about a playpen's worth of freed up floor space out in the garage.
Only the tiniest amount of knit happened. Four or five rows on the heel flap.
And you'd think I'd know by now not to shop for groceries when I'm hungry, but I was craving fresh fruit. I even bought a "personal" watermelon, roughly halfway in size between a large cantaloupe and a small bowling ball. Madness, I tell you. I went in for water and sodas. I came out with clam chowder and lobster bisque. And horseradish.
Guac it to me, baby!
Woke up this morning with three digestive
distinct areas of discomfort. I've been spotting since Friday. Add to that, abdominal distress, most likely due to the verde sauce on yesterday's enchiladas. And my right ear, which has been intermittently plugged when I first arise for the past four to six weeks. It normally clears after I've been up for awhile and drunk my juice. It hasn't cleared all weekend.
So I went to church as usual, and my friend B said, "You're going home after sacrament meeting." It wasn't a question. Or an order. Just a clear observation from someone who knows and loves me.
I got a blessing after sacrament meeting, and then I came home and puttered online until the after hours clinic opened.
My right ear was plugged. She couldn't see my eardrum to know if it was infected. So the nurse dropped something liquid and magical into my ear, and I lay on my side for several minutes. Then she irrigated my ear, which turned into almost baptism by immersion. I looked like I'd been in a water fight! But the doctor got a good look in my ear, and I'm on amoxicillin for the next ten days.
I also got quite a bit of knitting done in the waiting room, exam room pre-water-fight, and at the pharmacy. I'm ready to work the heel flap, but the only knitting that's happening between now and bedtime is arranging the stitches on longer needles. I've managed to get through the day without a nap, and every cell is screaming for sleep. Well, except the eardrum. It's just mumbling gratefully.
I can go online, but I've fried most of the letters on the bottom row. That happened earlier this week. As did getting rear ended on the way to work on Tuesday. I'm fine. Diana is in the shop, and I'm driving a sleek black Altima that I've named Black Widow.
Last weekend Middlest and I saw "The Bookshop" and loved it. It's not a happily ever after movie, but we both found the ending quite satisfying.
Today Secondborn and BittyBit (who is now nearly as tall as I am) saw it. They were less impressed. Maybe living with my bipolar child has skewed my sense of humor?
Have I mentioned that Littlebit and 5BDH are expecting? I'm picking up the tempo on baby socks. Plus there are two new families in the ward who are due about the same time.
I've been going a little nuts buying books for my shelves or my Kindle. I pre-ordered Bob Woodward's book on the current presidency. It should pop up midweek. Meanwhile, I am plowing through a history of the CIA. I blame Malcolm Gladwell.
Tola, you'll be pleased to know that I am finally in a position to support the local public radio station. Their fund drive ended last night, and I called them on the way home from work (buckets of rain; stuck in traffic) and gave them my widow's mite.
In other news, I'm rehabbing my left foot for plantar fasciitis. Got a shot (owie!) and am trying to remember to do my exercises.
1BDH sold the Tardis for me, so I've been having a little fun with the proceeds. Four new skeins of Manos del Uruguay for future projects. It's so much fun to reach over to the fallow side of the bed and pet the yarn.
Time for me to take evening meds, read my BOM, and call it a day.
Just needs to be blocked.
Not much to report, chez Ravelled. I'm back at work on the shawlette that I began at my sister's. I've frogged the Frankensock and begun again with a single ball of yarn. I've saved all manner of cute baby sweaters to Pinterest. Why?
LittleBit and LBDH are expecting!!!
This is incarnation 4.5 for the yarn. It is finally, *finally* making visual sense to me.
My three days back at work were productive and increasingly intense. By the time I left on Friday, I was pretty tightly wound. This, notwithstanding how beautifully everyone took care of my attorneys while I was on vacation, or how little catching-up I've had to do.
Yesterday helped a lot. I joined friends to clean the chapel. We picked up our quilt blocks. Then we picked up Mel, and Fourthborn, Middlest and I drove to our friend Lisa's for a belated birthday party for Middlest. I took Mel home, dropped Middlest at the house, took Fourthborn home, and spent the drive home and the rest of the day in my room. Knitted a little, read a little, listened to a podcast, and got to bed at a more or less reasonable hour.
It was a good Sabbath. I had a long nap, and we've now ticked over into Monday morning. Going back to bed.
