I’m driving in today, because the office remodeling starts in earnest tonight, and the managing attorney is closing the office an hour early.
I’m in the middle of the fifth pattern repeat on the right collar of Autumn Asters. I ♥ Malabrigo! I would marry it if I could. I think I will insert a third short-row repeat between what is supposed to be the last repeat and the grafting-together at mid-back. I also think I will do a three-needle bind-off instead of the grafting, since it’s all going to be smothered in embroidery anyway.
We get to wear shorts today, and non-obscene Tshirts. I am wearing my “dontcha” shirt: “Don’t you wish your girlfriend could knit like me?” from Knitty. And I ran out at 9:30 last night to Wally World and picked up a new pair of jeans for the occasion, because I do not do shorts.
I am now heading out to de-hyphenate myself. Be careful out there! And remember who you are...
About Me
- Lynn
- Eleven years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.
Friday, June 05, 2009
Thursday, June 04, 2009
A Miracle, and a Prologue
I was standing at my friend’s desk, visiting briefly, when the call came in.
“Yes, that would be Lynn. She’s standing right here,” and handed me the phone.
“Lynn, this is Plaintiff Attorney. We’ve spoken in the past, and I’m not sure why I’m calling you, but there have been some interesting things going on in my life the past two weeks, and because you’re who you are, I knew you would understand.”
This is where the prologue comes in.
Maybe a year ago, he was in our office to depose our client. Somebody was running late: court reporter, videographer, possibly our client, possibly his. Before the deposition began, and with the door closed to the conference room which adjoins the front office, he began to play some sort of pre-recorded media, in which a booming male voice dropped F-bombs.
We know how much I hate the F-bomb.
Our attorney, who is a very quiet, very gentle bear of a Christian, was not in that room. When he came up from the back part of the office [he was not in his office, or I would have called him there], I asked him to please deal with it. He did. The barrage ceased, and Plaintiff Attorney came out of the office, walked up to me, and apologized profusely and sincerely.
I think our attorney had told him that I was LDS and deeply religious. He spoke with me again after the deposition, reiterating his apology and telling me that once upon a time he and his wife had been LDS, that each had served a mission in their youth, but that they were now attending another church.
In subsequent visits to the office, he has remained cordial and professional.
I will not share the details of yesterday’s conversation; this is, after all, his miracle, and his wife’s. Suffice it to say that in the past two weeks Heaven has been stirring the pot in subtle ways, and he is suddenly finding himself back at sacrament meeting, two weeks in a row, when he has not attended in twenty years.
He asked me to pray for them.
Non-coincidentally, I have a good friend in his ward, somebody I met through the dinner group. I am putting her in the loop, and I have quietly asked the two attorneys in our office whom he has grievously offended to also pray for him.
One short phone call; at least four lives potentially blessed, and I am once again awestruck at how small moments may bring great things to pass.
No miracles in the knitting department, just quiet steady progress on the Lace Ribbon Scarf and one ball of Malabrigo hand-wound last night to start the collar for Autumn Asters. I do believe I will cast on while the tub fills.
“Yes, that would be Lynn. She’s standing right here,” and handed me the phone.
“Lynn, this is Plaintiff Attorney. We’ve spoken in the past, and I’m not sure why I’m calling you, but there have been some interesting things going on in my life the past two weeks, and because you’re who you are, I knew you would understand.”
This is where the prologue comes in.
Maybe a year ago, he was in our office to depose our client. Somebody was running late: court reporter, videographer, possibly our client, possibly his. Before the deposition began, and with the door closed to the conference room which adjoins the front office, he began to play some sort of pre-recorded media, in which a booming male voice dropped F-bombs.
We know how much I hate the F-bomb.
Our attorney, who is a very quiet, very gentle bear of a Christian, was not in that room. When he came up from the back part of the office [he was not in his office, or I would have called him there], I asked him to please deal with it. He did. The barrage ceased, and Plaintiff Attorney came out of the office, walked up to me, and apologized profusely and sincerely.
I think our attorney had told him that I was LDS and deeply religious. He spoke with me again after the deposition, reiterating his apology and telling me that once upon a time he and his wife had been LDS, that each had served a mission in their youth, but that they were now attending another church.
In subsequent visits to the office, he has remained cordial and professional.
I will not share the details of yesterday’s conversation; this is, after all, his miracle, and his wife’s. Suffice it to say that in the past two weeks Heaven has been stirring the pot in subtle ways, and he is suddenly finding himself back at sacrament meeting, two weeks in a row, when he has not attended in twenty years.
He asked me to pray for them.
Non-coincidentally, I have a good friend in his ward, somebody I met through the dinner group. I am putting her in the loop, and I have quietly asked the two attorneys in our office whom he has grievously offended to also pray for him.
One short phone call; at least four lives potentially blessed, and I am once again awestruck at how small moments may bring great things to pass.
No miracles in the knitting department, just quiet steady progress on the Lace Ribbon Scarf and one ball of Malabrigo hand-wound last night to start the collar for Autumn Asters. I do believe I will cast on while the tub fills.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Another anniversary!
Secondborn and 2BDH celebrate their ninth today! This is turning out to be quite the month for anniversaries.
Remember Melanie’s new wrap that I saw when I went to see the Harlot? Here is the link. I hope to start it in a couple of months, after I make Autumn Asters and use the new batch of Telemark productively.
I finished the second sleeve on another Christmas ornament, this one from yarn leftover from those brown socks I made for Middlest when she was still in Virginia. When this ornament is finished, I’ll send the rest of the yarn home with her.
Remember all those items on my list yesterday? Proving that the age of miracles has not passed, I got every blessed one of them marked off the list, and a few things that I was carrying around in my head without jotting down.
When I went into the optical shop, I asked the technician if she had a moment to adjust my frames. I took my glasses off and handed them to her, but she told me that she needed to see them in place. She walked around behind me, got a good look at the Ear-ie Canal that was developing, and said, “Oh, that’s not good.” Less than five minutes later, I was walking out of there with a much happier head.
Several of the women in my office tried on the finished Sunrise Circle Jacket. I can hardly wait for cool weather so I can get some wear out of it. For the moment, it is folded and safely stowed inside a plastic sweater box.
Had a fun experience at the post office, when I was mailing off a skein of leftover charcoal grey Denim Silk to another Raveller. Since I still hadn’t made it to the store to get new pens, I borrowed one from the greeter at the post office. I was filling out the label when a man came in and said something to the greeter. Getting something other than the response he wanted, he said, “He’s too busy watching you to [I forget what] for me.”
“That’s because I’m a knitter, and yarn is very dangerous.”
“That’s not why he’s watching you.”
“Oh. [pause, blink] Thank you!”
Yeah, I’m still grinning.
Last night was one of the rowdiest Knit Nights I think I’ve ever attended. Middlest was in fine form. Monica was egging her on. Monica’s daughter was on some impressively heavy meds after a motorcycle accident with her father, so pretty much anything anybody said, made her laugh.
Tonight we have presidency meeting, in which I reset my inner clock to Heaven Standard Time. Meanwhile, there is knitting. I have the body to finish on the Christmas ornament, and the Lace Ribbon Scarf to enjoy. But what I really, really want to do is swatch the Manos and the Malabrigo for Autumn Asters. I am going to try to make myself wait until the box gets here from WEBS.
Remember Melanie’s new wrap that I saw when I went to see the Harlot? Here is the link. I hope to start it in a couple of months, after I make Autumn Asters and use the new batch of Telemark productively.
I finished the second sleeve on another Christmas ornament, this one from yarn leftover from those brown socks I made for Middlest when she was still in Virginia. When this ornament is finished, I’ll send the rest of the yarn home with her.
Remember all those items on my list yesterday? Proving that the age of miracles has not passed, I got every blessed one of them marked off the list, and a few things that I was carrying around in my head without jotting down.
When I went into the optical shop, I asked the technician if she had a moment to adjust my frames. I took my glasses off and handed them to her, but she told me that she needed to see them in place. She walked around behind me, got a good look at the Ear-ie Canal that was developing, and said, “Oh, that’s not good.” Less than five minutes later, I was walking out of there with a much happier head.
Several of the women in my office tried on the finished Sunrise Circle Jacket. I can hardly wait for cool weather so I can get some wear out of it. For the moment, it is folded and safely stowed inside a plastic sweater box.
Had a fun experience at the post office, when I was mailing off a skein of leftover charcoal grey Denim Silk to another Raveller. Since I still hadn’t made it to the store to get new pens, I borrowed one from the greeter at the post office. I was filling out the label when a man came in and said something to the greeter. Getting something other than the response he wanted, he said, “He’s too busy watching you to [I forget what] for me.”
“That’s because I’m a knitter, and yarn is very dangerous.”
“That’s not why he’s watching you.”
“Oh. [pause, blink] Thank you!”
Yeah, I’m still grinning.
Last night was one of the rowdiest Knit Nights I think I’ve ever attended. Middlest was in fine form. Monica was egging her on. Monica’s daughter was on some impressively heavy meds after a motorcycle accident with her father, so pretty much anything anybody said, made her laugh.
Tonight we have presidency meeting, in which I reset my inner clock to Heaven Standard Time. Meanwhile, there is knitting. I have the body to finish on the Christmas ornament, and the Lace Ribbon Scarf to enjoy. But what I really, really want to do is swatch the Manos and the Malabrigo for Autumn Asters. I am going to try to make myself wait until the box gets here from WEBS.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Another good, productive day
I don’t know if it’s spillover from my new calling, but work seems to be going even better than usual. I stay busy, I keep myself useful, and the days just fly. Yesterday I caught up my friend’s enormous stack of filing, reducing it to half a dozen items for her to take care of. She had asked me to see what I could do about it last Friday, but since I didn’t know how she organizes her desk [she’s a stacker and piler, like me], I didn’t know which stack was oh please get this junk out of here, and which was files that are almost ready for closing.
Now I know, and she had a pristine file area when we left at the end of the day.
Got to sit and visit with Trainman last night; didn’t see him all last week, and LadyZen only once. Both of them have acquired seriously crazy schedules at work. It was so nice to catch up, to share how ward conference went and how the calling is going, and find out what’s up with him.
Says he, “You’ve had your new calling for about a month now. Wedding bells?”
Who has time to date? And I would probably need to stop having razor-blade soup for breakfast, first. While on the train yesterday morning, I glanced across the aisle to a book that a man I sometimes visit with, was preparing to read: Plain Honest Men.
“Fiction?” The woman facing him gasped and covered her mouth, then chortled. [I also visit with her sometimes.]
“Romance.” All three of us roared. I told him he got double points for that one.
Just before we pulled into the station, I asked him what the book is really about; it consists of brief biographies of the men involved in forming the Constitution. And while I seldom read history, having had one too many junior varsity coaches as a teacher [I apologize if any of you are JV coaches in remission, or JV coaches who actually know how to teach], this sounds like something I might enjoy.
Has anybody here read it?
I need to gather up my stuff:
1. Compost
2. Garbage & recycling
3. Check the oil
4. Deposit a reimbursement check for RS supplies
5. Dentist
6. Optical shop
7. Call a friend to see how her job search is going
I’m taking the finished Sunrise Circle Jacket to Knit Night, plus the current project: I have nearly finished the second repeat on the Lace Ribbon Scarf.
It’s supposed to be 97°F [36°C] on Thursday. I am so not ready for it to be summer.
Now I know, and she had a pristine file area when we left at the end of the day.
Got to sit and visit with Trainman last night; didn’t see him all last week, and LadyZen only once. Both of them have acquired seriously crazy schedules at work. It was so nice to catch up, to share how ward conference went and how the calling is going, and find out what’s up with him.
Says he, “You’ve had your new calling for about a month now. Wedding bells?”
Who has time to date? And I would probably need to stop having razor-blade soup for breakfast, first. While on the train yesterday morning, I glanced across the aisle to a book that a man I sometimes visit with, was preparing to read: Plain Honest Men.
“Fiction?” The woman facing him gasped and covered her mouth, then chortled. [I also visit with her sometimes.]
“Romance.” All three of us roared. I told him he got double points for that one.
Just before we pulled into the station, I asked him what the book is really about; it consists of brief biographies of the men involved in forming the Constitution. And while I seldom read history, having had one too many junior varsity coaches as a teacher [I apologize if any of you are JV coaches in remission, or JV coaches who actually know how to teach], this sounds like something I might enjoy.
Has anybody here read it?
I need to gather up my stuff:
1. Compost
2. Garbage & recycling
3. Check the oil
4. Deposit a reimbursement check for RS supplies
5. Dentist
6. Optical shop
7. Call a friend to see how her job search is going
I’m taking the finished Sunrise Circle Jacket to Knit Night, plus the current project: I have nearly finished the second repeat on the Lace Ribbon Scarf.
It’s supposed to be 97°F [36°C] on Thursday. I am so not ready for it to be summer.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Ten years.
@Kristen: I have a pair of rebellious [I was going to say “revolting”, but they’re still awfully cute] baby socks under construction, too. And another miniature sweater for the Christmas ornament collection. And about 2” of lace on my friend’s Lace Ribbon Scarf.
The $500 dresser I have been drooling over, is marked down to $249. I am trying fifteen ways from Sunday to justify the purchase, and I simply cannot. Maybe if I wait another four or five weeks, they will drop the price to $125, and then I will grin wolfishly as slap my debit card down on the counter.
Goodness! Did a pig just fly through my living room?
Here is a “medium” picture of the Sunrise Circle Jacket with its buttons and button loops.
And another. Am I ever glad that I didn’t choose the “large” size! Next is a button detail, with a much better representation of what the fabric looks like.
Today is the official ten-year anniversary on the job. Another five years, and I will get four weeks of vacation! [But in two weeks, I will take one of the three that I get now.] I have been working for this company, first in a claims office, and now in corporate law, for half as long as I was married to the children’s father. For half of LittleBit’s life.
Speaking of anniversaries, today is the seventh anniversary of Firstborn and 1BDH! They celebrated with a stay at a B&B in East Texas on Friday night and a Saturday trip on the Texas State Railroad, but they rode the steam engine, not the diesel that Trainman, LadyZen and I took back in March. She got some great pictures; I told her, “Almost thou persuadest me to stay in a B&B. I love the Piney Woods of East Texas.”
I had the kind of restful weekend that I was hoping for last weekend, once my ankles recovered from all that standing at the bookstore on Friday night. I have been nibbling away at the Harlot’s essays instead of reading them all at one sitting. Oh, how I love good writing.
Today I am back at work on the Lace Ribbon Scarf. I am not quite through the first repeat of the pattern, so it is nowhere near memorized. I am making little tick marks alongside the pattern as I complete each knit row, and I threw out four pens yesterday: one while sitting in the bishop’s office after church and three more when I got home. [No, I was not knitting in the bishop’s office, though I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded; I was trying to take notes for my calling.]
So I guess a trip to the grocery store is in order. I would write a reminder on a sticky note but oh ~ no pen! ~ so I will just have to hope that my short-term memory is operative when I get off the train tonight.
You girls can stop that snickering right now!
The $500 dresser I have been drooling over, is marked down to $249. I am trying fifteen ways from Sunday to justify the purchase, and I simply cannot. Maybe if I wait another four or five weeks, they will drop the price to $125, and then I will grin wolfishly as slap my debit card down on the counter.
Goodness! Did a pig just fly through my living room?
Here is a “medium” picture of the Sunrise Circle Jacket with its buttons and button loops.
And another. Am I ever glad that I didn’t choose the “large” size! Next is a button detail, with a much better representation of what the fabric looks like.
Today is the official ten-year anniversary on the job. Another five years, and I will get four weeks of vacation! [But in two weeks, I will take one of the three that I get now.] I have been working for this company, first in a claims office, and now in corporate law, for half as long as I was married to the children’s father. For half of LittleBit’s life.
Speaking of anniversaries, today is the seventh anniversary of Firstborn and 1BDH! They celebrated with a stay at a B&B in East Texas on Friday night and a Saturday trip on the Texas State Railroad, but they rode the steam engine, not the diesel that Trainman, LadyZen and I took back in March. She got some great pictures; I told her, “Almost thou persuadest me to stay in a B&B. I love the Piney Woods of East Texas.”
I had the kind of restful weekend that I was hoping for last weekend, once my ankles recovered from all that standing at the bookstore on Friday night. I have been nibbling away at the Harlot’s essays instead of reading them all at one sitting. Oh, how I love good writing.
Today I am back at work on the Lace Ribbon Scarf. I am not quite through the first repeat of the pattern, so it is nowhere near memorized. I am making little tick marks alongside the pattern as I complete each knit row, and I threw out four pens yesterday: one while sitting in the bishop’s office after church and three more when I got home. [No, I was not knitting in the bishop’s office, though I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded; I was trying to take notes for my calling.]
So I guess a trip to the grocery store is in order. I would write a reminder on a sticky note but oh ~ no pen! ~ so I will just have to hope that my short-term memory is operative when I get off the train tonight.
You girls can stop that snickering right now!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Pictures, at last!
Somebody else I met on Friday night: Ms. PinkLemon, herself! She is the genius behind the Hanami Shawl, MS3 [the mystery stole I made], and various other lovely things. She was wearing a brand-new design she had finished only that morning, in an interesting shape. Something like unto a crescent moon, with a perfectly-conceived ruffle along the convex edge. The free ends kind of swirled and spiraled down. I do not want to think about how many stitches I will have to bind off, on a ruffle whose narrow [i.e., gathered] end is probably six feet long.
I ended up not seeing BestFriend yesterday. When I turned on my cell phone, there was a message from her: work project most of the day with her hubby, and daughter’s prom last night. Her youngest is two years younger than LittleBit but is graduating early and heading off to college shortly. We will get together on BestFriend’s birthday in a couple of weeks, which is WWKIP Day. [World Wide Knit in Public Day.] That was moving day, last year, and by the time I got the truck returned, all the knitters over on the lawn of the Kimbell Museum had gone home.
As it turns out, I will not be attending that trial on Tuesday; it settled just before lunch on Friday. Naturally, that is the best outcome for our client and for the insurance company. Nevertheless, I am still a wee bit disappointed at not getting to see our attorney in action against such an interesting plaintiff. So I will go to the dentist for a cleaning, then dash by the optical shop to have my new frames tweaked; the left bow has apparently decided to lobotomize me, going in from behind my ear so as to keep the element of surprise. And then I will go into work.
Good thing I like my job, huh?
There may have been a falling-down at the Shabby Sheep on Friday. Two skeins of Manos del Uruguay and eight skeins of Malabrigo are sitting in a bag in my living room, avoiding all eye contact and whistling nonchalantly. I placed an order with WEBS yesterday for the rest of the yarn I need to make Autumn Asters. Instead of a fuchsia collar, mine will be dark green; those flowers are really going to pop against that background! And since we calculated I would need five skeins of Malabrigo to replace seven skeins of Manos, and she only had four skeins, I am going to knit the collar first and improvise the hems and button bands as needed. I picked up a skein of medium green to embroider a few leaves here and there; I can always use that for the button bands if necessary.
I will have tons of [most of the] yarn leftover and may succumb to the temptation of making a felted entrelac bag, if I can find nice sturdy leather handles in a color I like.
All that lovely Telemark shall not go to waste. But first I need to get Autumn Asters out of my system by getting it onto ~ and off of ~ my needles. That pattern has been cajoling, whining, and shrieking at me. So I’m doing the knitting equivalent of giving it a cookie before dinner to buy a little peace.
I have discovered a disadvantage to watching and/or listening to movies while knitting. [I’ll wait while my knitting friends grab a chair or a table to steady themselves.] In a musical or dance movie, which is generally what I prefer, or a nice talky chick flick, I can knit away and keep up with both plot and stitch count. But it wasn’t until I watched the special features for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen that I realized Special Agent Sawyer was in fact *Tom* Sawyer, all grown up. Oye. What else have I not noticed in that movie?
Some of my kids are shaking their heads in disbelief that I would watch TLoEG, much less enjoy it, much much less ponder it. Two words: (1) Sean, (2) Connery. That, and the fact that chez Ravelled it is one-half a double feature DVD with a (1), (2) punch. Do you have any idea how much I would pay for an audioBook of Mormon with Sean Connery narrating? Now if there is anybody living who can wrap his mouth around “inasmuch as”, “behooveth”, or “and it came to pass”, it is he. I defy anybody to fall asleep in early morning seminary class if he is reading ... “...smote [insert name of any convenient BoM bad guy], that he died...”
Yea, verily!
Here are the pictures of the Sunrise Circle Jacket that my camera held hostage the other day. A detail of the hem, showing the curve in front.
That funky white diamond near the right edge, is a snippet of bedding that was peeking through. Here is the neck curve.
A little out of focus, and definitely overexposed, but you get the idea. This is the lower hem.
And here you can see how the stitches begin to curve at the underarm.
The right front.
And the cuff.
This morning I added the button loops, but I didn’t have time to mark the placement of the buttons. More photos when that’s all done. But now I need to grab my bags and head out the door to ward council. Yes, I remembered the cheese sticks for between meetings. I’m learning!
I ended up not seeing BestFriend yesterday. When I turned on my cell phone, there was a message from her: work project most of the day with her hubby, and daughter’s prom last night. Her youngest is two years younger than LittleBit but is graduating early and heading off to college shortly. We will get together on BestFriend’s birthday in a couple of weeks, which is WWKIP Day. [World Wide Knit in Public Day.] That was moving day, last year, and by the time I got the truck returned, all the knitters over on the lawn of the Kimbell Museum had gone home.
As it turns out, I will not be attending that trial on Tuesday; it settled just before lunch on Friday. Naturally, that is the best outcome for our client and for the insurance company. Nevertheless, I am still a wee bit disappointed at not getting to see our attorney in action against such an interesting plaintiff. So I will go to the dentist for a cleaning, then dash by the optical shop to have my new frames tweaked; the left bow has apparently decided to lobotomize me, going in from behind my ear so as to keep the element of surprise. And then I will go into work.
Good thing I like my job, huh?
There may have been a falling-down at the Shabby Sheep on Friday. Two skeins of Manos del Uruguay and eight skeins of Malabrigo are sitting in a bag in my living room, avoiding all eye contact and whistling nonchalantly. I placed an order with WEBS yesterday for the rest of the yarn I need to make Autumn Asters. Instead of a fuchsia collar, mine will be dark green; those flowers are really going to pop against that background! And since we calculated I would need five skeins of Malabrigo to replace seven skeins of Manos, and she only had four skeins, I am going to knit the collar first and improvise the hems and button bands as needed. I picked up a skein of medium green to embroider a few leaves here and there; I can always use that for the button bands if necessary.
I will have tons of [most of the] yarn leftover and may succumb to the temptation of making a felted entrelac bag, if I can find nice sturdy leather handles in a color I like.
All that lovely Telemark shall not go to waste. But first I need to get Autumn Asters out of my system by getting it onto ~ and off of ~ my needles. That pattern has been cajoling, whining, and shrieking at me. So I’m doing the knitting equivalent of giving it a cookie before dinner to buy a little peace.
I have discovered a disadvantage to watching and/or listening to movies while knitting. [I’ll wait while my knitting friends grab a chair or a table to steady themselves.] In a musical or dance movie, which is generally what I prefer, or a nice talky chick flick, I can knit away and keep up with both plot and stitch count. But it wasn’t until I watched the special features for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen that I realized Special Agent Sawyer was in fact *Tom* Sawyer, all grown up. Oye. What else have I not noticed in that movie?
Some of my kids are shaking their heads in disbelief that I would watch TLoEG, much less enjoy it, much much less ponder it. Two words: (1) Sean, (2) Connery. That, and the fact that chez Ravelled it is one-half a double feature DVD with a (1), (2) punch. Do you have any idea how much I would pay for an audioBook of Mormon with Sean Connery narrating? Now if there is anybody living who can wrap his mouth around “inasmuch as”, “behooveth”, or “and it came to pass”, it is he. I defy anybody to fall asleep in early morning seminary class if he is reading ... “...smote [insert name of any convenient BoM bad guy], that he died...”
Yea, verily!
Here are the pictures of the Sunrise Circle Jacket that my camera held hostage the other day. A detail of the hem, showing the curve in front.
That funky white diamond near the right edge, is a snippet of bedding that was peeking through. Here is the neck curve.
A little out of focus, and definitely overexposed, but you get the idea. This is the lower hem.
And here you can see how the stitches begin to curve at the underarm.
The right front.
And the cuff.
This morning I added the button loops, but I didn’t have time to mark the placement of the buttons. More photos when that’s all done. But now I need to grab my bags and head out the door to ward council. Yes, I remembered the cheese sticks for between meetings. I’m learning!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friends Old and New
I got an email from my best friend in high school, telling me about next month’s 39-year barbecue for my high school class. There in the list was the name of the boy I had a crush on in 8th and 9th grade. My mom worked for his dad when we were in high school.
So I dropped him a quick note, acknowledging that it is difficult to be the reluctant object of somebody’s affections, and thanking him for his kindness and patience, both of which are in short supply among people that age. I think I made it clear that I was not trying to re-kindle a one-sided flame; I just wanted to say thanks, and no reply necessary.
His parents really did raise him right.
I am now on the mailing list for my graduating class. I have no intention to go to the reunion next year. Yes, I do love to travel; but I look at the cost of a plane ticket and think how much yarn, how many books or dinners with my friends it would buy. And I am already in touch with the one soul from my graduating class of 635 or 653 [it’s been awhile; I don’t remember] whose friendship is still precious to me. Not really appropriate for me to be chums with my high school sweetheart, who is still [miraculously, blessedly, in these flint-hearted times] married to one of my college classmates. We sent one other an email to catch up and seem mutually content to leave it at that.
The temple session yesterday, surrounded with friends from my ward in support of one of our newer members, was sublime. I got a little misty-eyed. It was good to sit in a quiet, holy place after the session and pray.
@ Firstborn: you commented that you would really, really like to move back to Florida after Lark graduates and the 24/7 is over. I do understand that feeling; I thought for awhile that after I got you girls all raised, I would move back to Idaho. That was before I knew about grandchildren.
When you were an infant and we lived in Provo, the folks were 500 miles from my sister and her family, and 400 miles from us. Other than the fact that the three of us were quietly, slowly starving in Provo because of the oversupply of worker bees relative to the number of hives, it was an ideal set-up. I grew up a long day’s drive from my sister, and we visited them two or three times a year. Gram and my aunt and uncle lived two days’ drive away, in Colorado. We saw them every other year, even after the interstate went through.
I have no doubt that you and 1BDH will go [or stay] wherever the Almighty needs you. I totally support that, even while relishing that all five of my girls are presently in Tarrant County. I hope you will be more or less equidistant from your kids, so that you can enjoy them and your grandchildren as much as I enjoy mine.
In knitting news, I went to Benno’s Buttons after work and found the perfect buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket. It’s a small but supremely well-stocked shop, and she pulled down box after box until we found buttons that deserved to hang out with my knitting. I will try to have pictures for you tomorrow.
Also in knitting news, I finished a miniature sweater for the Christmas tree. Or somebody’s Christmas tree. So, no pictures, just a couple days of sweet satisfaction knitted up in odd moments. It was an ice-breaker while we were waiting to hear the Harlot, or waiting to get our books signed. Here she is, signing mine; some of you will recognize my Famous Red Bag, making a cameo appearance.
And here we are together. She was up and down like a jill-in-the-box. Who knew that book signings count as an aerobic activity?
Yes, that is my cane you see posing with us. By the end of the evening, I was glad to have it. I had to park on the topmost level of the parking garage and crab-walk down four flights of stairs, and the bookstore was unprepared for the amount of people who showed up. I spent most of the pre-lecture time, all of the lecture time, and most of the post-lecture time, standing. Even after a good five hours of sleep, my left ankle is horribly swollen and my right ankle is still a little poochy. [I will drink lots of water today, some of it with a dash of lemon juice, and when I go to bed tonight, they will be themselves again.]
About the bookstore: lovely, bigger than my ankles, and new. I think the MC said they had only been open for six months. I was standing just about where the picture on their homepage was taken. Very much worth the drive if you are younger than I, and local. I will probably be giving them much of my [online] business. If only to enable them to buy more chairs...
What is this, you ask?
I met Mr. and Mrs. Buffalo Gold last night. I got to touch the yarn before they gave it to the Harlot. That is some seriously yummy yarn you see. The brown is buffalo; the cream is buffalo and bamboo.
I am going to rustle up some breakfast and turn on my cell phone. Today I get to spend some time with BestFriend!
So I dropped him a quick note, acknowledging that it is difficult to be the reluctant object of somebody’s affections, and thanking him for his kindness and patience, both of which are in short supply among people that age. I think I made it clear that I was not trying to re-kindle a one-sided flame; I just wanted to say thanks, and no reply necessary.
His parents really did raise him right.
I am now on the mailing list for my graduating class. I have no intention to go to the reunion next year. Yes, I do love to travel; but I look at the cost of a plane ticket and think how much yarn, how many books or dinners with my friends it would buy. And I am already in touch with the one soul from my graduating class of 635 or 653 [it’s been awhile; I don’t remember] whose friendship is still precious to me. Not really appropriate for me to be chums with my high school sweetheart, who is still [miraculously, blessedly, in these flint-hearted times] married to one of my college classmates. We sent one other an email to catch up and seem mutually content to leave it at that.
The temple session yesterday, surrounded with friends from my ward in support of one of our newer members, was sublime. I got a little misty-eyed. It was good to sit in a quiet, holy place after the session and pray.
@ Firstborn: you commented that you would really, really like to move back to Florida after Lark graduates and the 24/7 is over. I do understand that feeling; I thought for awhile that after I got you girls all raised, I would move back to Idaho. That was before I knew about grandchildren.
When you were an infant and we lived in Provo, the folks were 500 miles from my sister and her family, and 400 miles from us. Other than the fact that the three of us were quietly, slowly starving in Provo because of the oversupply of worker bees relative to the number of hives, it was an ideal set-up. I grew up a long day’s drive from my sister, and we visited them two or three times a year. Gram and my aunt and uncle lived two days’ drive away, in Colorado. We saw them every other year, even after the interstate went through.
I have no doubt that you and 1BDH will go [or stay] wherever the Almighty needs you. I totally support that, even while relishing that all five of my girls are presently in Tarrant County. I hope you will be more or less equidistant from your kids, so that you can enjoy them and your grandchildren as much as I enjoy mine.
In knitting news, I went to Benno’s Buttons after work and found the perfect buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket. It’s a small but supremely well-stocked shop, and she pulled down box after box until we found buttons that deserved to hang out with my knitting. I will try to have pictures for you tomorrow.
Also in knitting news, I finished a miniature sweater for the Christmas tree. Or somebody’s Christmas tree. So, no pictures, just a couple days of sweet satisfaction knitted up in odd moments. It was an ice-breaker while we were waiting to hear the Harlot, or waiting to get our books signed. Here she is, signing mine; some of you will recognize my Famous Red Bag, making a cameo appearance.
And here we are together. She was up and down like a jill-in-the-box. Who knew that book signings count as an aerobic activity?
Yes, that is my cane you see posing with us. By the end of the evening, I was glad to have it. I had to park on the topmost level of the parking garage and crab-walk down four flights of stairs, and the bookstore was unprepared for the amount of people who showed up. I spent most of the pre-lecture time, all of the lecture time, and most of the post-lecture time, standing. Even after a good five hours of sleep, my left ankle is horribly swollen and my right ankle is still a little poochy. [I will drink lots of water today, some of it with a dash of lemon juice, and when I go to bed tonight, they will be themselves again.]
About the bookstore: lovely, bigger than my ankles, and new. I think the MC said they had only been open for six months. I was standing just about where the picture on their homepage was taken. Very much worth the drive if you are younger than I, and local. I will probably be giving them much of my [online] business. If only to enable them to buy more chairs...
What is this, you ask?
I met Mr. and Mrs. Buffalo Gold last night. I got to touch the yarn before they gave it to the Harlot. That is some seriously yummy yarn you see. The brown is buffalo; the cream is buffalo and bamboo.
I am going to rustle up some breakfast and turn on my cell phone. Today I get to spend some time with BestFriend!
Friday, May 29, 2009
♫We’re off to see The Harlot...♪
That wonderful Harlot of ours, because, because, because, because, because... Because of the wonderful knits ~ and books ~ and blog posts she does! I went to the website of the bookstore which is hosting her. They were bragging discreetly about their meeting space that holds 80 people, and the adjoining space that holds another 80 people. Such innocence!
They are handing out wristbands. I sure hope I get in to see her! Maybe if I take my cane? My right knee [where I broke my leg line dancing a couple of years ago] has been a little tender from the recent storms and the humidity. Limping slightly would not be much of a stretch, except that this morning my knee feels just fine.
I read a little in la Starmore at lunch yesterday and kept dozing off. Not the fault of the book or the author; I am apparently in when I sits, I falls asleep mode. Just before bedtime, I did manage to stay vertical long enough to print off the pattern for Veronik Avery’s Lace Ribbon Scarf from the Spring 2008 issue of Knitty. I queued it last May and had forgotten how much I liked it until my friend Ruth posted pictures of hers.
Lovely, no?
I had anxiety dreams last night. Nothing awful; just the sort that I have when I am anticipating something that may or may not come off. Falling asleep at my desk at work and waking to find the office dark and the alarm armed. Driving, only to have the idiot lights come on and my car morph suddenly into a bicycle. That kind of thing. No yelling, no screaming, no childbirth words, just one stumbling block after another. And I woke a little over an hour ahead of my alarm, quite relieved not to be at my desk or atop a bike.
One of my attorneys told me about a terrific alterations shop between Benno’s Buttons and the next place on my list. If I don’t find the perfect buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket at Benno’s, I’ll probably find them on the wall of buttons at the alterations shop.
“Wall of buttons” does for me what “wall of Koigu” does for some of the rest of you.
Today’s agenda? Drive to work, for the third day this week. Work productively until the receptionist comes back from lunch at 12:30. Go to Benno’s and then the alterations place [just to check it out]. From there, go to the temple; one of the sisters in my ward is going for the first time today, and I want to support her. Head a few miles north to the bookstore, where I hope to find one of the Harlot’s earlier books, because I already have a copy of the one for this tour. Drive home, happily exhausted, with The Eagles blasting in my CD player.
Do I know how to live, or what?
I hear that new scarf calling my name. Before I answer, I need to gather up my bags and fix my lunch. Yes, I charged the batteries in my camera. Yes, I remembered to put them back. Yes, the camera is in my red bag. Will I remember to take it out at the bookstore tonight? Your guess is as good as mine.
[The only thing that could possibly make this day any better, would be to meet Brother Right while standing in line to have my book signed, and find out that he is the high priests’ group leader in his ward, and a lace knitter, and that his stash is twice the size of my own.]
They are handing out wristbands. I sure hope I get in to see her! Maybe if I take my cane? My right knee [where I broke my leg line dancing a couple of years ago] has been a little tender from the recent storms and the humidity. Limping slightly would not be much of a stretch, except that this morning my knee feels just fine.
I read a little in la Starmore at lunch yesterday and kept dozing off. Not the fault of the book or the author; I am apparently in when I sits, I falls asleep mode. Just before bedtime, I did manage to stay vertical long enough to print off the pattern for Veronik Avery’s Lace Ribbon Scarf from the Spring 2008 issue of Knitty. I queued it last May and had forgotten how much I liked it until my friend Ruth posted pictures of hers.
Lovely, no?
I had anxiety dreams last night. Nothing awful; just the sort that I have when I am anticipating something that may or may not come off. Falling asleep at my desk at work and waking to find the office dark and the alarm armed. Driving, only to have the idiot lights come on and my car morph suddenly into a bicycle. That kind of thing. No yelling, no screaming, no childbirth words, just one stumbling block after another. And I woke a little over an hour ahead of my alarm, quite relieved not to be at my desk or atop a bike.
One of my attorneys told me about a terrific alterations shop between Benno’s Buttons and the next place on my list. If I don’t find the perfect buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket at Benno’s, I’ll probably find them on the wall of buttons at the alterations shop.
“Wall of buttons” does for me what “wall of Koigu” does for some of the rest of you.
Today’s agenda? Drive to work, for the third day this week. Work productively until the receptionist comes back from lunch at 12:30. Go to Benno’s and then the alterations place [just to check it out]. From there, go to the temple; one of the sisters in my ward is going for the first time today, and I want to support her. Head a few miles north to the bookstore, where I hope to find one of the Harlot’s earlier books, because I already have a copy of the one for this tour. Drive home, happily exhausted, with The Eagles blasting in my CD player.
Do I know how to live, or what?
I hear that new scarf calling my name. Before I answer, I need to gather up my bags and fix my lunch. Yes, I charged the batteries in my camera. Yes, I remembered to put them back. Yes, the camera is in my red bag. Will I remember to take it out at the bookstore tonight? Your guess is as good as mine.
[The only thing that could possibly make this day any better, would be to meet Brother Right while standing in line to have my book signed, and find out that he is the high priests’ group leader in his ward, and a lace knitter, and that his stash is twice the size of my own.]
Thursday, May 28, 2009
You'll come a-swatching Matilda with me...
My head is reeling. I made the short-list on Francis’s post about Fort Worth blogs. Take that, Andy Warhol!
I know you really come here for the knitting. And finally, finally, I have pictures. Only they are not very good, and my camera is holding them hostage until I recharge the batteries. What I need, in addition to fresh batteries, is daylight and a flat surface, although I think the jacket would look lovely draped over the honeysuckle. It is already too warm to photograph it draped over *me*.
I swatched yesterday. Loosey-goosey rows on my trusty size 5s. A more stable fabric on my 4s, but then there is the matter of the needle tip whose laminated layers are separating in one spot. I would show you pictures, except see preceding paragraph.
I should have grabbed that issue of Interweave Knits from the slipcase and looked at the gauge before buying all this Telemark, because no matter how optimistic I am, there is no way to knit a sweater whose gauge is 4.5 stitches per inch in stranded knitting and 3.5 stitches per inch on the straightaway [i.e., stockinette] with a single strand of yarn that wants to be knitted at 6 stitches per inch.
Oh boo hoo, boo hoo. <----- [crocodile tears] This means I must take the vintage Starmore out of its shrine ~ my glass-enclosed bookcase ~ and adapt some of her patterns to the yarn at hand and the sweater shape that I want. [Boo hoo!]2
That was a sop to my fellow mathophiles.
It also means that I must seek out a local source of Manos del Uruguay yarns, because while I love Malabrigo and would love to knit up something splendid from all that softness, summer is nearly here, which meanssweat perspiration glowing, and I am not a big believer in felt-as-you-go. And I will have to go back to Plan A, which was to acquire the spendy skeins one or two per month [at $13-14 apiece] until I have enough to make the sweater.
Autumn Asters is heading for time-out. I am heading for the tub. And I hope you are all heading into a good day.
I know you really come here for the knitting. And finally, finally, I have pictures. Only they are not very good, and my camera is holding them hostage until I recharge the batteries. What I need, in addition to fresh batteries, is daylight and a flat surface, although I think the jacket would look lovely draped over the honeysuckle. It is already too warm to photograph it draped over *me*.
I swatched yesterday. Loosey-goosey rows on my trusty size 5s. A more stable fabric on my 4s, but then there is the matter of the needle tip whose laminated layers are separating in one spot. I would show you pictures, except see preceding paragraph.
I should have grabbed that issue of Interweave Knits from the slipcase and looked at the gauge before buying all this Telemark, because no matter how optimistic I am, there is no way to knit a sweater whose gauge is 4.5 stitches per inch in stranded knitting and 3.5 stitches per inch on the straightaway [i.e., stockinette] with a single strand of yarn that wants to be knitted at 6 stitches per inch.
Oh boo hoo, boo hoo. <----- [crocodile tears] This means I must take the vintage Starmore out of its shrine ~ my glass-enclosed bookcase ~ and adapt some of her patterns to the yarn at hand and the sweater shape that I want. [Boo hoo!]2
That was a sop to my fellow mathophiles.
It also means that I must seek out a local source of Manos del Uruguay yarns, because while I love Malabrigo and would love to knit up something splendid from all that softness, summer is nearly here, which means
Autumn Asters is heading for time-out. I am heading for the tub. And I hope you are all heading into a good day.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, no, Wednesday
Re: I Could Never Be Your Woman. MovieMom says that it went straight to video. I think khat song you sent me the link for, is part of the soundtrack. You hear just a snippet of something like it at one point in the movie, if you’re listening carefully.
The Sunrise Circle Jacket is done, unless I decide that I want buttons and button loops. I will check out Benno’s on Friday, but I am leaning more toward just closing it with a pin of some sort.
It fits perfectly without blocking, other than the fact that the sleeve hems come down to my fingertips. I suppose I could ruche the sleeves if I get tired of playing peekaboo.
But wait, there’s more in the Good News department! The city actually picked up my trash and recycling yesterday. I pulled Lorelai out of the driveway, put both cans at the end of the driveway, and took off. When I got home from Knit Night, both cans were on their sides and empty except for a little rainwater.
Our street is still under construction, and there is a gravel pile in front of the duplex. I guess last week the trucks couldn’t get close enough to the curb to pick up the trash.
This article is really long, and really good. Fascinating, even. I found it through a link on Unclutterer. You might enjoy the article even more if you have a mug of milk and some cinnamon graham crackers. And once you’ve read the article, you’ll understand why I’m grinning as I type that.
I started swatching the Autumn Asters cardigan this morning.
And I got the OK to attend closing arguments on the trial I wanted to see. Our attorney thinks it’s going to be a day-and-a-half trial; that day, I’ll go to the dentist in the early morning and then head over to the courtroom.
The Sunrise Circle Jacket is done, unless I decide that I want buttons and button loops. I will check out Benno’s on Friday, but I am leaning more toward just closing it with a pin of some sort.
It fits perfectly without blocking, other than the fact that the sleeve hems come down to my fingertips. I suppose I could ruche the sleeves if I get tired of playing peekaboo.
But wait, there’s more in the Good News department! The city actually picked up my trash and recycling yesterday. I pulled Lorelai out of the driveway, put both cans at the end of the driveway, and took off. When I got home from Knit Night, both cans were on their sides and empty except for a little rainwater.
Our street is still under construction, and there is a gravel pile in front of the duplex. I guess last week the trucks couldn’t get close enough to the curb to pick up the trash.
This article is really long, and really good. Fascinating, even. I found it through a link on Unclutterer. You might enjoy the article even more if you have a mug of milk and some cinnamon graham crackers. And once you’ve read the article, you’ll understand why I’m grinning as I type that.
I started swatching the Autumn Asters cardigan this morning.
And I got the OK to attend closing arguments on the trial I wanted to see. Our attorney thinks it’s going to be a day-and-a-half trial; that day, I’ll go to the dentist in the early morning and then head over to the courtroom.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Bits and Pieces
When I was out and about last Saturday, I stopped at a garage sale. I picked up three small red frames and one larger silver-toned frame and a wall basket shaped like a ladybug.
I used one of the frames to preserve that fortune I got shortly after I was called to be Relief Society president. Remind me to show you; it’s hanging out with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib1, on top of the gas fireplace. That poor wall is so very, very vanilla. But I have promised myself that the boudoir gets finished first.
The Sunrise Circle Jacket is nearly done. It’s bound off and halfway sewn together. I looked for buttons at JoAnn’s and Hancock’s; I found something plausible at Joann’s, but they were roughly $5 each, and I think I can do better at Benno’s Buttons in Dallas, both in terms of style and price.
I discovered a small mistake on the right front of the jacket. I don’t think anybody but me, or one of my knitting friends, would notice.2 We will consider it my small, retroactively deliberate imperfection. A design feature, if you will.
I dashed out around 8:00pm and did a single load of laundry. For reasons I do not entirely understand, I can do a load of whites in 45 minutes or less. When I do two or more loads, it takes at least an hour and a half [but then I’m done for several weeks].
Brother Abacus was at the memorial service yesterday. I greeted him, and he said, “I didn’t know you were in this ward. [That’s because you don’t listen, honey.] I’m moving into your ward.” [I knew that, because I do.]
“Yes. I’m the Relief Society president. Proving that Heaven has a great sense of humor.”
“Woah.” Just the smallest spark of fear in his eyes. Hey, God loves me, even if Brother Abacus didn’t and doesn’t. It was a lovely small moment. And I also saw, for another small moment, what it was that attracted me in the first place, neatly filed away under “O” for “Oops”. [Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. No thanks!]
1 If you have ever been a little girl, or you have a little girl, or you have a granddaughter or a niece or a goddaughter who is old enough for chapter books or will sit still long enough to be read to, and you don’t know about Maud Hart Lovelace’s classic books, they came back into fashion after You’ve Got Mail was released [so did Streatfeild’s Shoes series], because she referred to them in the movie. And I just learned that there is a Betsy-Tacy Society. Fourthborn gave me the ten-book series years ago, and I later picked up Emily of Deep Valley and Carney’s House Party on my own. The last five books in the series are being reprinted this fall, but Emily and Carney and Winona’s Pony Cart [which I do not have] are not.
2 My mother would have said, “You wouldn’t notice it on a galloping horse.”
Very glad to go back to work today. Work is where I go to rest...
I used one of the frames to preserve that fortune I got shortly after I was called to be Relief Society president. Remind me to show you; it’s hanging out with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib1, on top of the gas fireplace. That poor wall is so very, very vanilla. But I have promised myself that the boudoir gets finished first.
The Sunrise Circle Jacket is nearly done. It’s bound off and halfway sewn together. I looked for buttons at JoAnn’s and Hancock’s; I found something plausible at Joann’s, but they were roughly $5 each, and I think I can do better at Benno’s Buttons in Dallas, both in terms of style and price.
I discovered a small mistake on the right front of the jacket. I don’t think anybody but me, or one of my knitting friends, would notice.2 We will consider it my small, retroactively deliberate imperfection. A design feature, if you will.
I dashed out around 8:00pm and did a single load of laundry. For reasons I do not entirely understand, I can do a load of whites in 45 minutes or less. When I do two or more loads, it takes at least an hour and a half [but then I’m done for several weeks].
Brother Abacus was at the memorial service yesterday. I greeted him, and he said, “I didn’t know you were in this ward. [That’s because you don’t listen, honey.] I’m moving into your ward.” [I knew that, because I do.]
“Yes. I’m the Relief Society president. Proving that Heaven has a great sense of humor.”
“Woah.” Just the smallest spark of fear in his eyes. Hey, God loves me, even if Brother Abacus didn’t and doesn’t. It was a lovely small moment. And I also saw, for another small moment, what it was that attracted me in the first place, neatly filed away under “O” for “Oops”. [Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. No thanks!]
1 If you have ever been a little girl, or you have a little girl, or you have a granddaughter or a niece or a goddaughter who is old enough for chapter books or will sit still long enough to be read to, and you don’t know about Maud Hart Lovelace’s classic books, they came back into fashion after You’ve Got Mail was released [so did Streatfeild’s Shoes series], because she referred to them in the movie. And I just learned that there is a Betsy-Tacy Society. Fourthborn gave me the ten-book series years ago, and I later picked up Emily of Deep Valley and Carney’s House Party on my own. The last five books in the series are being reprinted this fall, but Emily and Carney and Winona’s Pony Cart [which I do not have] are not.
2 My mother would have said, “You wouldn’t notice it on a galloping horse.”
Very glad to go back to work today. Work is where I go to rest...
Monday, May 25, 2009
Today, a Sabbath of sorts
Sunday night, late:
I came home from the eight-hour spiritual feast that was ward conference, so tired that I was coughing and verging on asthma. So tired that all I wanted was to curl up on the couch and have a good cry. I knew that once I had eaten something light and taken a nap, I would be fine. Yay! for the orange juice I bought on Saturday night, and the last of the potato salad. I went right to bed, hoping for a short nap, and slept for five hours.
And now, at 10:17 on Sunday night, I am once again vertical and snacking on more juice and the last of the Greek chicken salad on sourdough bread. My body is rested, my spirits are refreshed, and I am ready to pick up my knitting and watch something Sabbath-appropriate, which chez Ravelled would mean Sense and Sensibility, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, or Fiddler on the Roof. I am gradually acquiring more movies of that sort, films that maintain my respect and reverence for God, family, and principle.
I love the film adaptation of Lord of the Rings. It is visually beautiful and morally exalting. And it is a little too noisy ~ for me ~ for the Sabbath, though I certainly wouldn’t criticize anyone who chooses to watch it on Sundays or whenever they observe their own Sabbath.
I had planned to spend tomorrow on the couch, knitting in hand and movies in the DVD player. Between meetings at church, I realized that I could perform a very small act of service by taking one of my friends who no longer drives, to the fabric store. I could enjoy her company, browse the patterns, possibly pick up buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and still spend most of the day on the couch.
But the man who was my first home teacher in this ward, passed away on Saturday morning, and I spent part of that day at the hospital with his family, running an errand for them, and heading over to Dallas for our pre-conference temple session. We will be having a memorial service for him, appropriately enough, on Memorial Day. His graveside service, which will be handled by the VA, will be later in the week.
By my computer, it is 1:42am. I have just finished the purl bump row on the right front of the jacket. I am only a little hungry, but powerfully thirsty. [Because knitting is such thirsty business!] I think I hear the carrot sticks calling my name...
Monday morning, somewhat later:
I went to bed at 3:36am, halfway through the fourth row of the hem on the jacket. I woke up three hours later, more or less, and finished the row. Then I took a squint at the placement of decreases on row three and realized that I had begun them in the wrong spot. Out came the fourth row, and about two-thirds of row three, which is now redone. After a bit of breakfast and a quick bath, I will pick up where I left off.
I hope to have the ribbing well underway on Autumn Asters by the time I go to bed tonight.
Thank a veteran today, if you get a chance, and pray for our troops. [Hi, Josh, we love you!]
I came home from the eight-hour spiritual feast that was ward conference, so tired that I was coughing and verging on asthma. So tired that all I wanted was to curl up on the couch and have a good cry. I knew that once I had eaten something light and taken a nap, I would be fine. Yay! for the orange juice I bought on Saturday night, and the last of the potato salad. I went right to bed, hoping for a short nap, and slept for five hours.
And now, at 10:17 on Sunday night, I am once again vertical and snacking on more juice and the last of the Greek chicken salad on sourdough bread. My body is rested, my spirits are refreshed, and I am ready to pick up my knitting and watch something Sabbath-appropriate, which chez Ravelled would mean Sense and Sensibility, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, or Fiddler on the Roof. I am gradually acquiring more movies of that sort, films that maintain my respect and reverence for God, family, and principle.
I love the film adaptation of Lord of the Rings. It is visually beautiful and morally exalting. And it is a little too noisy ~ for me ~ for the Sabbath, though I certainly wouldn’t criticize anyone who chooses to watch it on Sundays or whenever they observe their own Sabbath.
I had planned to spend tomorrow on the couch, knitting in hand and movies in the DVD player. Between meetings at church, I realized that I could perform a very small act of service by taking one of my friends who no longer drives, to the fabric store. I could enjoy her company, browse the patterns, possibly pick up buttons for the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and still spend most of the day on the couch.
But the man who was my first home teacher in this ward, passed away on Saturday morning, and I spent part of that day at the hospital with his family, running an errand for them, and heading over to Dallas for our pre-conference temple session. We will be having a memorial service for him, appropriately enough, on Memorial Day. His graveside service, which will be handled by the VA, will be later in the week.
By my computer, it is 1:42am. I have just finished the purl bump row on the right front of the jacket. I am only a little hungry, but powerfully thirsty. [Because knitting is such thirsty business!] I think I hear the carrot sticks calling my name...
Monday morning, somewhat later:
I went to bed at 3:36am, halfway through the fourth row of the hem on the jacket. I woke up three hours later, more or less, and finished the row. Then I took a squint at the placement of decreases on row three and realized that I had begun them in the wrong spot. Out came the fourth row, and about two-thirds of row three, which is now redone. After a bit of breakfast and a quick bath, I will pick up where I left off.
I hope to have the ribbing well underway on Autumn Asters by the time I go to bed tonight.
Thank a veteran today, if you get a chance, and pray for our troops. [Hi, Josh, we love you!]
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Inviting God into Your Linen Closet
Dr. Wally had this to say about the healing power of the Savior.
I can remember my pre-Christian life well enough that I can relate to the woman’s wish not to have her life complicated any more than it already was. I remember thinking, “I have messed up my life astoundingly, under my own power. What if I let the Omnipotent into my life, and He magnifies that irrevocably?”
But He did not; over the past 34 years, we have worked together to clean out one linen closet after another, sometimes only one shelf at a time. Time is something He has plenty of, and Infinite patience. I keep finding more messy closets. He keeps showing up to help.
That is what my coffee table looked like at 8:40 yesterday morning. You may see it and think that no self-respecting Relief Society president would have a coffee table that looked like that. Yes, the clutter is a little unnerving, even to me, but all that stuff is love made manifest. The roving that Micki gave me.
The laceweight that Monica spun for me.
Miles and miles of pencil roving that Rebecca gave me.
The Bath and Body Works sampler that our Primary president gave me at my first ward council meeting in this ward, earlier this month.
The cone of Sugar & Creme that somebody [Grace, I think] gave me, which morphs into the occasional washcloth.
The magazines that my lawyer friends send home with me, which eventually get read and passed around or recycled.
My M-day rose, which has obviously seen better days.
Do you know what happens when you put things away? Well, the table looks like this, which while not the norm chez Ravelled is not intrinsically a bad thing.
And your knitting, thinking it is the end of the world as we know it, picks a fight with you. I got off track with my stitch count sometime during the last quarter of I Could Never Be Your Woman. I tinked that row at least three times. I spent a good two hours fixing that row. And when I went to bed last night, I went to bed with that row half-tinked and my eyes nearly crossed. It is finally, knock wood, knitted into submission. There are seven rows left until the purl-bump row.
Time for me to hop in the tub, scurry over to the chapel, and begin a day-long series of meetings. No nap for the weary, today!
I can remember my pre-Christian life well enough that I can relate to the woman’s wish not to have her life complicated any more than it already was. I remember thinking, “I have messed up my life astoundingly, under my own power. What if I let the Omnipotent into my life, and He magnifies that irrevocably?”
But He did not; over the past 34 years, we have worked together to clean out one linen closet after another, sometimes only one shelf at a time. Time is something He has plenty of, and Infinite patience. I keep finding more messy closets. He keeps showing up to help.
That is what my coffee table looked like at 8:40 yesterday morning. You may see it and think that no self-respecting Relief Society president would have a coffee table that looked like that. Yes, the clutter is a little unnerving, even to me, but all that stuff is love made manifest. The roving that Micki gave me.
The laceweight that Monica spun for me.
Miles and miles of pencil roving that Rebecca gave me.
The Bath and Body Works sampler that our Primary president gave me at my first ward council meeting in this ward, earlier this month.
The cone of Sugar & Creme that somebody [Grace, I think] gave me, which morphs into the occasional washcloth.
The magazines that my lawyer friends send home with me, which eventually get read and passed around or recycled.
My M-day rose, which has obviously seen better days.
Do you know what happens when you put things away? Well, the table looks like this, which while not the norm chez Ravelled is not intrinsically a bad thing.
And your knitting, thinking it is the end of the world as we know it, picks a fight with you. I got off track with my stitch count sometime during the last quarter of I Could Never Be Your Woman. I tinked that row at least three times. I spent a good two hours fixing that row. And when I went to bed last night, I went to bed with that row half-tinked and my eyes nearly crossed. It is finally, knock wood, knitted into submission. There are seven rows left until the purl-bump row.
Time for me to hop in the tub, scurry over to the chapel, and begin a day-long series of meetings. No nap for the weary, today!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
The best wedding cake topper *ever*
Naturally, my camera was out in my trunk.
Picture, if you will, a bride. A groom. The bride has her right hand lifted triumphantly. In her palm sits a small green frog. The groom, standing several inches away, has frog feet.
The day was full of other delightful surprises as well. As I left the Post Office with the early mail, I nodded and smiled at the police officer who was standing by the door to allow the patrons in and keep the homeless people out. He smiled back and said [are you sitting down? you should be!]
“And how is your pretty self today?”
My pretty self was uncharacteristically speechless, because I was remembering the conversation I had had with two attorneys at lunch earlier in the week, when one of them said that men of color tend to have a fine appreciation for women with some meat on their bones. And I had concurred, remarking that I am generally invisible to men of the vanilla persuasion, and not invisible to Latino and mocha men. [Although it has been awhile since anybody hollered ♫Ay chiquilene♫ or however the heck it’s spelled, but I still get that look from time to time.]
So yes, I pretty much floated out of the Post Office and down the sidewalk to the car. I am still grinning. I was probably grinning in my sleep.
I am definitely grinning at the progress on the Sunrise Circle Jacket. 91 rows done, out of the 103 needed before the purl ridge. I am taking a little break before heading out with the laundry and to get my glasses adjusted. [The left bow digs into my head, just a little, right behind my ear. I would like to keep that ear; I’ve grown rather attached to it.] And I am ready for breakfast.
After the wedding reception in/near Richardson last night, I stopped by the Entertainmart which is a mile or two north of the Dallas Temple. Everybody and his dog was there, or perhaps it’s better to say every mom and her stroller. But I did manage to find a copy of I Could Never Be Your Woman, The Mask of Zorro, and Time Bandits. I stayed up until after 1:00 this morning, watching The Mask of Zorro. Anthony Hopkins, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and the ever-lovely Señor Banderas. What’s not to like?
☺
Picture, if you will, a bride. A groom. The bride has her right hand lifted triumphantly. In her palm sits a small green frog. The groom, standing several inches away, has frog feet.
The day was full of other delightful surprises as well. As I left the Post Office with the early mail, I nodded and smiled at the police officer who was standing by the door to allow the patrons in and keep the homeless people out. He smiled back and said [are you sitting down? you should be!]
“And how is your pretty self today?”
My pretty self was uncharacteristically speechless, because I was remembering the conversation I had had with two attorneys at lunch earlier in the week, when one of them said that men of color tend to have a fine appreciation for women with some meat on their bones. And I had concurred, remarking that I am generally invisible to men of the vanilla persuasion, and not invisible to Latino and mocha men. [Although it has been awhile since anybody hollered ♫Ay chiquilene♫ or however the heck it’s spelled, but I still get that look from time to time.]
So yes, I pretty much floated out of the Post Office and down the sidewalk to the car. I am still grinning. I was probably grinning in my sleep.
I am definitely grinning at the progress on the Sunrise Circle Jacket. 91 rows done, out of the 103 needed before the purl ridge. I am taking a little break before heading out with the laundry and to get my glasses adjusted. [The left bow digs into my head, just a little, right behind my ear. I would like to keep that ear; I’ve grown rather attached to it.] And I am ready for breakfast.
After the wedding reception in/near Richardson last night, I stopped by the Entertainmart which is a mile or two north of the Dallas Temple. Everybody and his dog was there, or perhaps it’s better to say every mom and her stroller. But I did manage to find a copy of I Could Never Be Your Woman, The Mask of Zorro, and Time Bandits. I stayed up until after 1:00 this morning, watching The Mask of Zorro. Anthony Hopkins, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and the ever-lovely Señor Banderas. What’s not to like?
☺
Friday, May 22, 2009
Are we there yet?
I’ve put two and two together, and I’ve looked in the back of the book to check my answer, but I might not be getting four.
BusDude [not sure at this point if he will need/earn another name] was on the bus again yesterday; he smiled and greeted me by name. That’s the first two.
Remember a couple of weeks ago when I staggered and almost fell, just before getting on the bus? And a man in line behind me reached out to steady me and asked if I was all right? That’s the second two.
I am suddenly wondering if ThatDude and BusDude are one and the same. That might explain why he spoke to me this week, when I had no idea who he was. He might have been thinking, “Oh, wow, it’s LurchLady.”
What, you don’t make up names for people, inside your head?
When I went to bed last night, I had completed 65 rows on the right front; 38 rows remain until the purling ridge. Also when I went to bed last night, I wasn’t sure if I would be driving in today or riding the train. The managing attorney is closing up shop an hour early, to help us get a jump start on holiday traffic. Which is lovely, and I’m thankful, but it keeps me off the same train as Trainman, unless I want to hang around the train station for nearly an hour and a half.
And there is the wedding reception graduation ceremony for my friends at 7:00. It is in far northeast Dallas, almost on the cusp of Richardson. I could go hang out at one of the bookstores between work and there, maybe nosh on a Greek chicken salad sandwich to take the edge off.
On the other hand [too much Fiddler on the Roof lately], I had some of the Greek chicken salad last night while listening to Stranger than Fiction and knitting. My ankles are a little unhappy with me this morning. It might be a day for a simple PBJ. And I wonder: how do they know that the chicken is (was) Greek? Did it run around drinking ouzo and clucking “opa!” before it became salad?
I am glad that this is going to be a long weekend, that we will have the focused intensity of ward conference this weekend and then Monday off to let our bodies catch up with our spirits. I am having a really great week, spiritually and emotionally, and my body would like a long walk and a longer nap. Though I actually slept until the alarm went off; that may be the first time this week.
I guess I will see how long I take in the tub and how long it takes me to find something I want to wear, and let that determine if I ride the train and just come home and put in a movie and knit, or drive in and go wish my friends well tonight. Tune in tomorrow...
BusDude [not sure at this point if he will need/earn another name] was on the bus again yesterday; he smiled and greeted me by name. That’s the first two.
Remember a couple of weeks ago when I staggered and almost fell, just before getting on the bus? And a man in line behind me reached out to steady me and asked if I was all right? That’s the second two.
I am suddenly wondering if ThatDude and BusDude are one and the same. That might explain why he spoke to me this week, when I had no idea who he was. He might have been thinking, “Oh, wow, it’s LurchLady.”
What, you don’t make up names for people, inside your head?
When I went to bed last night, I had completed 65 rows on the right front; 38 rows remain until the purling ridge. Also when I went to bed last night, I wasn’t sure if I would be driving in today or riding the train. The managing attorney is closing up shop an hour early, to help us get a jump start on holiday traffic. Which is lovely, and I’m thankful, but it keeps me off the same train as Trainman, unless I want to hang around the train station for nearly an hour and a half.
And there is the wedding reception graduation ceremony for my friends at 7:00. It is in far northeast Dallas, almost on the cusp of Richardson. I could go hang out at one of the bookstores between work and there, maybe nosh on a Greek chicken salad sandwich to take the edge off.
On the other hand [too much Fiddler on the Roof lately], I had some of the Greek chicken salad last night while listening to Stranger than Fiction and knitting. My ankles are a little unhappy with me this morning. It might be a day for a simple PBJ. And I wonder: how do they know that the chicken is (was) Greek? Did it run around drinking ouzo and clucking “opa!” before it became salad?
I am glad that this is going to be a long weekend, that we will have the focused intensity of ward conference this weekend and then Monday off to let our bodies catch up with our spirits. I am having a really great week, spiritually and emotionally, and my body would like a long walk and a longer nap. Though I actually slept until the alarm went off; that may be the first time this week.
I guess I will see how long I take in the tub and how long it takes me to find something I want to wear, and let that determine if I ride the train and just come home and put in a movie and knit, or drive in and go wish my friends well tonight. Tune in tomorrow...
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza...
You may recall the musically-challenged classmate of Fourthborn’s, who thought the line in the Elton John song was “Buh buh buh Benny has Tourette’s”. Same classmate also came up with today’s title, offered here for your musical pleasure.
I was crazy-busy again yesterday. Four tapes, or five reports, from one of my attorneys, and one report from another. I did not take my morning or afternoon breaks; instead, I took half of my lunch at 12:30 to run down and inhale a free hamburger from the barbecue which building management was putting on for the tenants. I took the second half of my lunch at 3:30, with my knitting, in the break room.
I was physically tired but mentally invigorated.
I think we had a good presidency meeting last night. We assigned a [very] few sisters to new companionships, found visiting teachers for some of the others, and basically got our toes wet. We have lots to do before the program is running the way I think/hope it should run, but I don’t want to be all new broom sweeps clean.
I was in bed by 10:15, with 46 rows done on the Sunrise Circle Jacket. I put 4 more rows onto the front before packing to leave for work today. And now I am out the door. Have a great day, everybody!
I was crazy-busy again yesterday. Four tapes, or five reports, from one of my attorneys, and one report from another. I did not take my morning or afternoon breaks; instead, I took half of my lunch at 12:30 to run down and inhale a free hamburger from the barbecue which building management was putting on for the tenants. I took the second half of my lunch at 3:30, with my knitting, in the break room.
I was physically tired but mentally invigorated.
I think we had a good presidency meeting last night. We assigned a [very] few sisters to new companionships, found visiting teachers for some of the others, and basically got our toes wet. We have lots to do before the program is running the way I think/hope it should run, but I don’t want to be all new broom sweeps clean.
I was in bed by 10:15, with 46 rows done on the Sunrise Circle Jacket. I put 4 more rows onto the front before packing to leave for work today. And now I am out the door. Have a great day, everybody!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Not the Norm
I drove in to the Richland Hills Station yesterday, in preparation for Knit Night. As I was standing on the platform, a respectable-looking man walked up to me, smiled, and greeted me as if we were old friends. Old, perhaps; friends? that remains to be seen. I didn’t know him from Adam.
I was wearing my seriously-cool shades, and I lifted them off my face and smiled to take the edge off my words. “I wonder if I am the person you think I am.” Wow! I have learned to speak ReliefSocietese! Because what I was thinking was, Who are you, and why are you talking to me, because I don’t know you. Are you one of those strangers my mother warned me about?
Says he, “You ride the bus with Joy and Carol, right?”
Say I, cautiously, “Yes, I do.”
Says he, “I ride the same bus in the morning.”
And we introduced ourselves and shook hands. And then the train came, and I sat down with LadyZen, and he sat across the aisle and up one, facing me.
Weird. Not him, necessarily, but the situation. He must not have gotten the memo stating that all middle-aged men must immediately drop their briefcases and run in the opposite direction when they see me.
Further progress on the Sunrise Circle Jacket yesterday, and much hilarity at Knit Night. I plunked my bags down on a chair and ran down the hall, muttering something like “Pass the bag with the yarn around so you can see what I got in the mail.” When I returned, most of them had quietly taken one of the balls and were waiting for me to notice.
Which, surprisingly enough, I did. And then they passed them back to me. I think the only one who didn’t participate was Middlest, who didn’t quite see the humor in it. She is wonderfully protective of her mother.
And she is moving back to Virginia this summer to help her friend whose hubby is being deployed. I got a little teary-eyed as I took her home last night. I have had and am having such fun with her, and I am going to miss her enormously when she goes.
We only stayed for a bit at Knit Night so as to spend some time at Fourthborn’s; I met her new doll last night.
And now if I do not stop writing and finish my cereal and hop in the tub, I will absolutely have to drive into work today, and I am not in the mood.
I was wearing my seriously-cool shades, and I lifted them off my face and smiled to take the edge off my words. “I wonder if I am the person you think I am.” Wow! I have learned to speak ReliefSocietese! Because what I was thinking was, Who are you, and why are you talking to me, because I don’t know you. Are you one of those strangers my mother warned me about?
Says he, “You ride the bus with Joy and Carol, right?”
Say I, cautiously, “Yes, I do.”
Says he, “I ride the same bus in the morning.”
And we introduced ourselves and shook hands. And then the train came, and I sat down with LadyZen, and he sat across the aisle and up one, facing me.
Weird. Not him, necessarily, but the situation. He must not have gotten the memo stating that all middle-aged men must immediately drop their briefcases and run in the opposite direction when they see me.
Further progress on the Sunrise Circle Jacket yesterday, and much hilarity at Knit Night. I plunked my bags down on a chair and ran down the hall, muttering something like “Pass the bag with the yarn around so you can see what I got in the mail.” When I returned, most of them had quietly taken one of the balls and were waiting for me to notice.
Which, surprisingly enough, I did. And then they passed them back to me. I think the only one who didn’t participate was Middlest, who didn’t quite see the humor in it. She is wonderfully protective of her mother.
And she is moving back to Virginia this summer to help her friend whose hubby is being deployed. I got a little teary-eyed as I took her home last night. I have had and am having such fun with her, and I am going to miss her enormously when she goes.
We only stayed for a bit at Knit Night so as to spend some time at Fourthborn’s; I met her new doll last night.
And now if I do not stop writing and finish my cereal and hop in the tub, I will absolutely have to drive into work today, and I am not in the mood.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Whew!
My girls know that I don’t think the phone should ring after 9:00pm. Traditionally, I have not made calls after 9:00pm. And more than one teenager has been politely handed his or her head for calling our house after 9:00pm.
Last night I made a bunch of calls after 9:00pm. One of the members in our congregation is in the hospital. Various family members need to get fed, taken or picked up from school and activities, etc. Enter the Relief Society; this is one of the reasons that we exist.
May I just say that I love the sisters in my ward? I looked around the chapel in sacrament meeting on Sunday, and I realized that suddenly I could put a lot more names to faces, and more to the point, I am beginning to know who they are.
They are, without exception, magnificent and precious.
In knitting news, I just completed the 28th row on the right front, after the raglan decreases begin. There are now [barely] more stitches that make up the front, than make up the sleeve. Seventy-five rows until the purl-bump that marks the hem fold for the front and neck.
The yarn came for my next sweater. I don’t think I have enough arms to take it to Knit Night along with my red bag, my knitting bag, and the bag that holds my Relief Society stuff; the latter three will all be trotting along to work with me.
I love Franklin’s book. It was part of my order. I sat in the break room at lunch and laughed and chortled and snorted. Best-friend-at-work was beginning to think I had lost my mind. She said she had never heard me laugh so much, or so loudly.
Maybe I should keep that book in my Relief Society bag?
Busy day ahead, crazy week. Life is good!
@ Sherry: both dates are good for me. Let’s be greedy and claim both of them.
Last night I made a bunch of calls after 9:00pm. One of the members in our congregation is in the hospital. Various family members need to get fed, taken or picked up from school and activities, etc. Enter the Relief Society; this is one of the reasons that we exist.
May I just say that I love the sisters in my ward? I looked around the chapel in sacrament meeting on Sunday, and I realized that suddenly I could put a lot more names to faces, and more to the point, I am beginning to know who they are.
They are, without exception, magnificent and precious.
In knitting news, I just completed the 28th row on the right front, after the raglan decreases begin. There are now [barely] more stitches that make up the front, than make up the sleeve. Seventy-five rows until the purl-bump that marks the hem fold for the front and neck.
The yarn came for my next sweater. I don’t think I have enough arms to take it to Knit Night along with my red bag, my knitting bag, and the bag that holds my Relief Society stuff; the latter three will all be trotting along to work with me.
I love Franklin’s book. It was part of my order. I sat in the break room at lunch and laughed and chortled and snorted. Best-friend-at-work was beginning to think I had lost my mind. She said she had never heard me laugh so much, or so loudly.
Maybe I should keep that book in my Relief Society bag?
Busy day ahead, crazy week. Life is good!
@ Sherry: both dates are good for me. Let’s be greedy and claim both of them.
Monday, May 18, 2009
What an amazing weekend!
It felt as if it had lasted a whole week, so much got done. When I went to bed last night, I was so tired that I did the shut-down-restart routine that I do on my workstation at the office, except that my finger slipped and I locked down my computer. And then I couldn’t remember the master password. Thankfully, a hard shut-down solved that problem, though I’m sure my hard drive isn’t happy with me.
Oye.
In non-technical news, i.e., knitting news, I opted to watch the first half of Fiddler on the Roof yesterday after church, and I added ten rows onto the Sunrise Circle Jacket. I thought it was particularly apropos during Tzeitel’s wedding, as the family was singing “Sunrise, Sunset”.
Yeah, I’m just that sentimental. I love that movie, for the glorious music, for the costuming and the dancing, for the fact that it was the movie I saw on my first date with FirstHubby. He sat on my right, I sat on his left, and I cried all through the movie, but only from my left eye. So there I was, sniffling and weeping on the half of my face he couldn’t see, and dry-eyed at first glance. Now there is a foreshadowing and a metaphor for that marriage.
The focus this week [I think, as I sit here at the computer where life is calm and peaceful] is going to be on visiting teaching. I’ve got sisters who are willing to serve and plenty more who need service. I think I will be able to go to the laundromat tonight and wash two or three smallish loads before it all piles up and overwhelms me. And my visiting teacher is coming over Thursday night.
I learned at the dance on Saturday night that there is a monthly dance at the Southside Preservation Hall, not far from our chapel. One of my friends went there this month, instead of the church dance in Lewisville, and she didn’t stop dancing from the time she walked in the door until the dance ended at midnight. I am thinking seriously of going in June. I felt so good when I went to bed on Saturday night. And surprisingly, I had no trouble hauling myself out of bed yesterday. Auntie Mame may have needed a little Christmas, right this very minute, but what Ms. Ravelled needs is a whole lot more dancing, in a safe venue.
And that would be someplace I could take LadyZen. And maybe even Trainman.
Ack! I just took a hard look at my desk, and somebody needs to take ten minutes and clear it off. I really do need to talk to the housekeeper, because she is letting things slide dreadfully! I hope that I am not required to lead-by-example in terms of housework. Definitely not something I want to bring up in my private prayers, as I fear for the answer.
The knitting beckons. I must obey.
Oye.
In non-technical news, i.e., knitting news, I opted to watch the first half of Fiddler on the Roof yesterday after church, and I added ten rows onto the Sunrise Circle Jacket. I thought it was particularly apropos during Tzeitel’s wedding, as the family was singing “Sunrise, Sunset”.
Yeah, I’m just that sentimental. I love that movie, for the glorious music, for the costuming and the dancing, for the fact that it was the movie I saw on my first date with FirstHubby. He sat on my right, I sat on his left, and I cried all through the movie, but only from my left eye. So there I was, sniffling and weeping on the half of my face he couldn’t see, and dry-eyed at first glance. Now there is a foreshadowing and a metaphor for that marriage.
The focus this week [I think, as I sit here at the computer where life is calm and peaceful] is going to be on visiting teaching. I’ve got sisters who are willing to serve and plenty more who need service. I think I will be able to go to the laundromat tonight and wash two or three smallish loads before it all piles up and overwhelms me. And my visiting teacher is coming over Thursday night.
I learned at the dance on Saturday night that there is a monthly dance at the Southside Preservation Hall, not far from our chapel. One of my friends went there this month, instead of the church dance in Lewisville, and she didn’t stop dancing from the time she walked in the door until the dance ended at midnight. I am thinking seriously of going in June. I felt so good when I went to bed on Saturday night. And surprisingly, I had no trouble hauling myself out of bed yesterday. Auntie Mame may have needed a little Christmas, right this very minute, but what Ms. Ravelled needs is a whole lot more dancing, in a safe venue.
And that would be someplace I could take LadyZen. And maybe even Trainman.
Ack! I just took a hard look at my desk, and somebody needs to take ten minutes and clear it off. I really do need to talk to the housekeeper, because she is letting things slide dreadfully! I hope that I am not required to lead-by-example in terms of housework. Definitely not something I want to bring up in my private prayers, as I fear for the answer.
The knitting beckons. I must obey.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
“All Is Well in Zion”
I promised all y’all a translation, or an explanation of why this phrase is so funny to some Latter-Day Saints and makes others exceedingly nervous. Here is the scriptural reference. I rarely use the phrase without a generous dash of irony. In a sense, it relates back to that article I referred to a few days ago [or maybe only think I did] about living inside one’s dreams vs. living in the real world. For many active Latter-Day Saints, a sincere profession that all is well in Zion, is an invitation for lightning to strike, or the other shoe to drop.
[But before I do, and before I forget. @ Francis: I tried to go to Fred’s on Friday night, before I ended up at Lucile’s. Found it easily, and the parking lot was crammed, and I was in no mood to deal with crowds. I’m taking a week of stay-cation in June, and I’ll get over there for lunch midweek and report back to you.]
And this is why it applied to the conversation with Trainman last Monday. Even though I was mostly-OK with his decision to sit elsewhere, there was that niggling concern that maybe he was choosing to back off on the friendship because I have suddenly acquired a demanding new calling which will place major restrictions on the amount of time I can spend in company with him and LadyZen. Granted, it didn’t seem consistent with what I had experienced of his personality and character, but it was a minuscule burr on the border of my saddle blanket. [And we know who plants those burrs: the Father of Lies.]
So it was a relief to talk to Trainman last week and clear the air a little. The reason he hadn’t sat with me was because another acquaintance had grabbed the seat next to me, and the only seat conveniently nearby was one that ran parallel to the side of the car. He knew that those seats are more uncomfortable than most.
I told him that I had been a little ticked for about 3.5 seconds, to which he replied with a grin, “Oh, yeah. I knew that.” And I grinned back sheepishly and said, “You know me well.”
And yay! I was not mistaken about his character.
On to other topics. Neat, weird stuff is happening at church. I sat in the chapel before sacrament meeting and could name most of the sisters as they came in and took a seat. One of the sisters I wrote last week, was there; no idea if it was coincidental or in response; let’s just call it fortuitous and see what happens next week.
I reached the underarm on the right sleeve of the Sunrise Circle Jacket during Sunday School today. I am only 103 [!!!] rows from the fold for the facing, and then I can block the pieces and sew them together. I picked up a skein of 50/50 silk and wool, tightly spun and plied like DMC Tapestry Wool but finer in grist. [The pattern specifies DMC Tapestry Wool; it is unavailable locally.] Gorgeous stuff; almost it persuadeth me to make a lumbar pillow for the couch.
I also saw a hand-painted needlepoint canvas that is calling my name. I brought home the specifications so they can order another if this one is gone when I have the money saved. Some things just insist that they need to come home with me. I told the pillow, “Yes dear, but not yet.”
I bought two black resin planters at Costco when I was there with Firstborn yesterday. I need to drill holes in the bottom of them, fill them with gravel and potting soil, and plant something. Obviously not today. Today, I am just trying to stay awake until 4:00 so I can call one of the sisters at church and pick her brain about something. And then at 6:00 I will finish up our visiting teaching for the month.
I am also thinking of making a stealth visit to a sister who just moved into the ward. Toward that end, I am making cookies to take along. @ Firstborn: if you want me to bake you cookies, move into my ward! That may be your only option for awhile.
Note to self: two cheese sticks and a banana are insufficient fuel for four and a half hours of meetings. But half a small package of whole-wheat tortellini makes a nice lunch, especially if there are cookies and milk for dessert!
Oh! Oh! Oh! The dance last night was actually a lot of fun. There were only eight [8] men in attendance, so I mostly danced in a circle with my sisters, but the DJ knew his stuff. [Not Brother Sushi, who was DJing his niece’s wedding reception, nor the pro who DJed the dances at the conference last month, nor the guy who sulks when he is not the DJ. Somebody else, with a good playlist, except he did not have Ray Charles’s “Let Me Take Over”.]
Did you know that you can dance a respectable East Coast Swing to Ray Charles’s “You are My Sunshine”??? I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed under my own steam this morning, but I felt terrific, and there was no whoosh in my head when I lay down last night. Maybe two hours of dancing raised my BP enough that it showed up on my radar?
Knitting. That’s what we do around here. Gonna go knit, and maybe watch Stranger than Fiction again. Did you notice how Ana’s home is decorated? Lots of warm reds and golds; that’s probably why I noticed that needlepoint canvas yesterday.
[But before I do, and before I forget. @ Francis: I tried to go to Fred’s on Friday night, before I ended up at Lucile’s. Found it easily, and the parking lot was crammed, and I was in no mood to deal with crowds. I’m taking a week of stay-cation in June, and I’ll get over there for lunch midweek and report back to you.]
And this is why it applied to the conversation with Trainman last Monday. Even though I was mostly-OK with his decision to sit elsewhere, there was that niggling concern that maybe he was choosing to back off on the friendship because I have suddenly acquired a demanding new calling which will place major restrictions on the amount of time I can spend in company with him and LadyZen. Granted, it didn’t seem consistent with what I had experienced of his personality and character, but it was a minuscule burr on the border of my saddle blanket. [And we know who plants those burrs: the Father of Lies.]
So it was a relief to talk to Trainman last week and clear the air a little. The reason he hadn’t sat with me was because another acquaintance had grabbed the seat next to me, and the only seat conveniently nearby was one that ran parallel to the side of the car. He knew that those seats are more uncomfortable than most.
I told him that I had been a little ticked for about 3.5 seconds, to which he replied with a grin, “Oh, yeah. I knew that.” And I grinned back sheepishly and said, “You know me well.”
And yay! I was not mistaken about his character.
On to other topics. Neat, weird stuff is happening at church. I sat in the chapel before sacrament meeting and could name most of the sisters as they came in and took a seat. One of the sisters I wrote last week, was there; no idea if it was coincidental or in response; let’s just call it fortuitous and see what happens next week.
I reached the underarm on the right sleeve of the Sunrise Circle Jacket during Sunday School today. I am only 103 [!!!] rows from the fold for the facing, and then I can block the pieces and sew them together. I picked up a skein of 50/50 silk and wool, tightly spun and plied like DMC Tapestry Wool but finer in grist. [The pattern specifies DMC Tapestry Wool; it is unavailable locally.] Gorgeous stuff; almost it persuadeth me to make a lumbar pillow for the couch.
I also saw a hand-painted needlepoint canvas that is calling my name. I brought home the specifications so they can order another if this one is gone when I have the money saved. Some things just insist that they need to come home with me. I told the pillow, “Yes dear, but not yet.”
I bought two black resin planters at Costco when I was there with Firstborn yesterday. I need to drill holes in the bottom of them, fill them with gravel and potting soil, and plant something. Obviously not today. Today, I am just trying to stay awake until 4:00 so I can call one of the sisters at church and pick her brain about something. And then at 6:00 I will finish up our visiting teaching for the month.
I am also thinking of making a stealth visit to a sister who just moved into the ward. Toward that end, I am making cookies to take along. @ Firstborn: if you want me to bake you cookies, move into my ward! That may be your only option for awhile.
Note to self: two cheese sticks and a banana are insufficient fuel for four and a half hours of meetings. But half a small package of whole-wheat tortellini makes a nice lunch, especially if there are cookies and milk for dessert!
Oh! Oh! Oh! The dance last night was actually a lot of fun. There were only eight [8] men in attendance, so I mostly danced in a circle with my sisters, but the DJ knew his stuff. [Not Brother Sushi, who was DJing his niece’s wedding reception, nor the pro who DJed the dances at the conference last month, nor the guy who sulks when he is not the DJ. Somebody else, with a good playlist, except he did not have Ray Charles’s “Let Me Take Over”.]
Did you know that you can dance a respectable East Coast Swing to Ray Charles’s “You are My Sunshine”??? I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed under my own steam this morning, but I felt terrific, and there was no whoosh in my head when I lay down last night. Maybe two hours of dancing raised my BP enough that it showed up on my radar?
Knitting. That’s what we do around here. Gonna go knit, and maybe watch Stranger than Fiction again. Did you notice how Ana’s home is decorated? Lots of warm reds and golds; that’s probably why I noticed that needlepoint canvas yesterday.
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