Bitten by the Zentangle bug

I started the second chapter in the primer last night. It was an almost completely execrable tile. And I'm OK with that. Anne Lamott, in her advice to writers, counsels to go ahead and write the [horrible] first draft. So I did.

Tonight I practiced two of the new tangles. I'm quite pleased with one of them. It's the one I hated the least last night. And I drew bigger circles for the second one. I'm updating iTunes on this computer and blogging a bit while some of the ink dries. I'll finish that tile tomorrow night.

I've listened to all seven chapters in this week's reading for Sunday School. Tomorrow I'll start reading each chapter in depth, chasing down the footnotes, and making notes as I go.

If I want to get any knitting done today (and not let Zentangle take over my creative life), I need to post this now and restart my computer.

Keeping it simple, keeping it honest, keeping it real

One of my favorite no-brainer meals is a cup of Easy Mac with a nuked burger from Costco cut up into it. Sometimes Rarely, I'll stir in cooked broccoli. More often, it's a handful of sliced grape tomatoes. Today, while the macaroni cup was doing its thing in the microwave, I rinsed and sliced up the last of the grape tomatoes. I placed them in a ring around the burger while it heated through, and I sliced up two green onions and stirred them into the mac after adding the cheese. It made for a pretty and deeply satisfying lunch.

The Fitbit works well in one Costco that I patronize but not so much in the other. I am quite sure that I put in more than 150 steps while I was in there this morning. I'm also a little puzzled as to how I could have racked up 86 steps in my sleep. Oh well, as one of my professors 40+ years ago stated at the beginning of the semester, there are lies, d@mn lies, and statistics.

I've had a quiet, putter-y day so far. (I've begun this post at 3:30 in the afternoon.) Small breakfast. Two small, sensible snacks. And now lunch. Also two loads of laundry. Clean sheets on the bed, and about a third of my Gudrun and other delicates hanging to dry in the shower, now that I've had a shower of my own. I've done cleaning and maintenance on the CPAP. I've read several pages in an issue of The Economist. I'm ready to head back to my squeaky clean bed and listen to a General Conference address while knitting. I got most of the way through it yesterday morning, and when I got into Diana, my phone synced with the car, and my audio disappeared. I had neither the time nor the patience to figure out how to make that stop, so today I'm starting over.

***

Finishing this up at the time I would normally be going to bed, because I had such a great nap. (Dozed off while listening to a second General Conference address and took the hint.) Dinner tonight was a nuked potato topped with guacamole. I had read of it as an alternative to butter, sour cream, and salt. In terms of taste, it was great. I like my potatoes salty but not ridiculously so. The guacamole provided just enough seasoning to keep thing interesting. In terms of appearance, it was kind of gross. But I ate it anyway, and I will probably do so again. Cheap, fast, and easy, unlike me.

I finished the Zentangle that I've been noodling at for approximately a month. I'm nearly done with the issue of The Economist. The new issue arrived today. I love the cover, of England's new PM drawn suspiciously like our own president, riding atop a double-decker bus labeled "Make Britain Great Again" on a roller coaster track that dead-ends into space. And at least one person inside the bus is emulating "The Scream." [Andrea Over the Pond, I don't know what your politics are, so I hope this doesn't offend you.]

I need to go sort out next week's meds and make a little more progress in studying this week's New Testament lesson. There are so many people named in the Book of Acts, and so many places, that it's rather like trying to keep track of the characters in "War and Peace." I find that I'm liking and understanding Paul a little better, this time around. I have the prophets Mormon and Moroni to thank for that. Their writing styles are similar to Paul's, and the translation is vastly more recent and therefore comprehensible, at least to me.

It's been a great day. I feel physically rested, and refreshed in all of the other important ways. Be good, and remember Whose you are.

I had forgotten...

... how much I like nectarines. I bought one, and only one, the other day because I didn't know if Middlest or Fourthborn like them, and I wasn't sure if I was up to eating three of them. I left it in the plastic bag and put it in the fridge.

This morning I decided I'd better eat it before it died of old age. Didn't want to squirt juice all over my clothing, so I sliced it six ways from Sunday and thumbed the sections into a small take-along.

After eating my sandwich, I only had room for one bite. So now I am sitting in bed, noodling around on my phone, and eating the rest of the nectarine. Cutting it up was one of the better ideas I've had. Because as much as I didn't want to get juice all over my clothes or my chin, I especially don't want to get it on the sheets.

I spent about half of the day in a series of meetings, which I guess is a pretty good thing, because I didn't have all that much to do until the last hour or so. New case, answer thankfully not due for another week, and a full set of discovery that I can clean up for our paralegal when I'm back on Monday morning.

Plan for this weekend is to putter a little and create a lot. More Zentangle. More knitting. Maybe start putting some of my bead acquisitions together for new earrings. A whole lot of reading, I hope.

Nectarine is finished. And so, my dears, am I.

I've grown accustomed to this purse?

I may have moaned and gritched about this. If so, I've slept since then. The 20th anniversary (with the corporation) gift which I chose was a designer bag, of the brand which Firstborn prefers. I didn't open the box for something like a week. When I did, the purse was smaller than I'd envisioned, and I certainly couldn't lug all the stuff that I was accustomed to. And I wasn't sure that I liked it all that much. It retailed for nearly half again as much as the bag I chose five years ago, which is hanginging dejectedly from a knob on one of my dressers, whimpering in leathery tones, "Don't you love me anymore?"

There are a few things that I'm discovering that I like about the new bag. It fits neatly under my arm and stays on my sloping shoulder, probably because it weighs five pounds max, and not fifteen. Like me, it has a quirky shape. It's black, so it works for work or church or family brunch at IKEA.

I'm hard on bags. My favorite was a large red leather tote from Franklin (as in Franklin Planner) that I bought half-off at a price that nearly choked me. And was a fraction of what either of these bags would retail for. Good purses, like good steaks, should cost less than $10. Right? I stuffed that bag like a pregnant elephant, and it lasted at least five years. The bag which is in timeout no longer stands tall like a soldier on review. It bulges out on the front and back. It has hourglass creases on the sides. And it probably has another 15-20 years of usefulness left. I'm wondering how well this fancier bag will last. It's more delicately constructed.

In other news, if you start drinking 64 ounces of water a day, and one day you drink half that much, your hands and forearms will tattle on you. I'm naming the left one Mojave and the other one Sahara.

Random thoughts during scripture study.

(This is based upon a draft that I began in November 2017.)

I had been listening to Mosiah 28, where the repentant sons of King Mosiah ask their father for permission to go preach to their enemies, the Lamanites. Since the likelihood of their getting killed far exceeded the likelihood of successful missionary efforts, the king was understandably concerned, and he took those concerns to the Lord, who reassured him.

Random thought the first: I wonder what their mother had to say on this subject. Was she still on this side of the veil? Was her faith as great as her sons' faith, or did she have a Sariah moment in which she said are you all nuts? (or the Nephite equivalent thereof)?

Random thought the second: with these four sons out of the picture, none of Mosiah's other sons wanted to inherit the kingdom. Was this because they had other interests, or because they wanted nothing to do with either a mortal kingdom or the kingdom of God?

Random thought the third: why did Mosiah confer the records which his sons did not want upon Alma the Younger, rather than Alma the Elder? Was the senior Alma already close to death? (Both he and Mosiah are dead by the end of chapter 29.)



I loved this song, back in the 70's. Thankfully, now I know about the Holy Ghost, and I know that all of my questions will be answered someday.

~~~

I have to say that my study has vastly improved since "Come, Follow Me" began at the first of this year.  As much as I'm enjoying the New Testament, I am really looking forward to studying the Book of Mormon next year.

OK. I've caught up my bookkeeping, and I've eaten a delicious dinner of questionable nutritional value, so it must be time to read or to knit. Maybe a little of both.

I saw a doll today that is really tempting. I have bought no dolls for two years. This is an MSD boy with a lively and mischievous face. And they offer extended layaway.

Breaking the mold

When the workmen tore out the last of the kitchen cabinets at work this past weekend, they discovered mold. Our office manager texted us last night that we would tentatively open at 1pm, pending what a mold expert had to say. Midmorning, we got another text, stating that we were closed for the day and that there would be another text no later than 8pm regarding whether we would open tomorrow.

Currently, we are looking at a tentative opening time of 1pm but are not to go in until we get the all clear, which may not happen until close to noon. Followed half an hour ago with notice that the kitchen would be sealed off and completely unavailable and to plan accordingly, if we are allowed to go in.

So, what have I done today? Read. Knitted. Read some more. Gone out for dim sum with doll friends to celebrate Middlest's birthday, which was yesterday. Napped. Read, again. Tidied my room a little more. Gathered up clothing for donation. Finessed the timing for salmon burgers in my George Foreman grill. After eating rather too much dim sum and the consequent nap, my body was vaguely hungry but pleaded, No more carbs, please, for the love of all that's good and holy.

I have trundled the trash bin down to the street and am now enjoying my cool, quiet bedroom, about to wash my evening meds down with buttermilk, which minimizes the dysphagia. And then I'll turn out one light and read (surprise!) by the other until my eyes say we're done. No need to set the alarm tonight.

I could get used to this.

Defragging.

You know how lots of people don't want to engage with others in the morning until they've had one or many cups of coffee? Not an option since my baptism 44 years ago next month. (Plus, I never really liked the stuff. It just makes me sweat and skip to the loo.)

I can't say if I've been this way all my life or if it began when I had a houseful of teenagers and a growing disconnect in my marriage to their father. But I crave solitude at the beginning and end of the day.

At various times I've ma'amaged this by mall walking or by doing needlework in the foyer when the kids were in seminary or by having a mini-devotional or by going to the gym. (Walking several laps in cool water brings both alertness and calm. It's as close to Zen as I'm likely to get without knitting in my hands.)

I finally found the metaphor for this over breakfast with Middlest a week or so ago. (I think Fourthborn was still snoozing.) Defragging. He nodded in recognition.

Most days I've spent enough time awake in my room, with three quick games on my phone followed by diving into my scriptures, that I can genuinely enjoy any available companionship over breakfast. I am both ready and delighted to be civil.

Other days, especially those where sleep or dreams went sideways, I just want to stay in my room until it's time to deal with the breakfast dishes, sluice off, and slink out the door to work.

~~~

It's been a good weekend. Decent progress on Middlest's scarf/cowl. (Maybe I should just call it a scowl?) I've eaten wisely and well. There has been napping. And masses of reading. Church was great, as usual. I've tried to be sensible about media consumption. Spent time hanging out with the dead people after church today. Discovered that I have a plethora of fourth cousins here in Texas. I've made goals for non-scriptural reading for this week. Just need to go into Come, Follow Me and bookmark the lesson, the readings, and the adjunct material. The videos for last week's reading were deeply touching.

One problem solved. OK, two.

Middlest has been the primary document shredder chez nous for quite some time. I've tossed a lot of paper onto the shred pile in the past week and a half. Thankfully, he's not had a chance to do anything about that. Because I accidentally sorted the current bill for my long term care premium into the shred pile, and three minutes of careful digging has retrieved it.

Work went well today. And on one of my skips to the loo, I was able to help an attorney in another firm on our floor get back into her suite. No, I did not pick the lock. I had my phone with me. She gave me her number. An associate answered and came to let her in.

Not much knitting so far today. I'm going to put things away, turn down the lights, and try to go to bed by 9pm, aiming for a solid eight hours before morning.

In which your intrepid heroine pokes a hornet's nest

I've mentioned that the office is being remodeled. The support columns throughout our office used to have mahogany(ish) baseboards around them. Even the round ones. I think all of the columns have been repainted at this point. Two of the round ones have now have vinyl baseboards. I asked the managing attorney if this was going to be the new aesthetic. She hadn't noticed.

This, after a morning in which the workmen were drilling ten feet from my desk when I got to work. It was audible all the way across the office. It continued for another hour or so, until someone spoke to someone who spoke with someone else, who made it stop. The managing attorney was not made aware of it until after it was blessedly quiet. (Both she and the office manager were elsewhere at the time.)

Mid-afternoon, the head of the building management company arrived in our suite with a peace offering: at least two dozen fresh from the oven cookies from Tiff's Treats.

The renovation guys were absent yesterday, and they're not supposed to be working tomorrow or over the weekend.

In knitting news, Middlest's cowl-in-embryo is now a scarf just short of two feet long. I've knitted up all of the pre-knitted dark blue but am still soldiering away on the lighter blue. Also, I found my little red clicker row counter. And three separate patterns that had gone AWOL.

Furthermore, I've sorted through massive amounts of accumulated paperwork that I collected last Saturday: trash, recycling, shredding, and deal with it already. There's a half inch stack of envelopes in the last category, in a pile by my left elbow.

I caught up my financial spreadsheets, and my credit score is four points higher than last month. Baby steps. I had some momentary panic last week when I learned how much dental work the kids need, according to the dentist who's filling in for our regular dentist while he deals with an acute health issue. Assuming he concurs, it will have to be piecemeal.

OK, I'm going to tackle the deal with it pile. Later, gators.

Stuff I learned today.

Banana bread is my nemesis. Or my Waterloo. Or my anti-matter. One of my coworkers made two loaves this weekend and brought them to work. I did my impression of a sensible diabetic and took half a slice. And then the other half. And then...

Predictably, within the hour I had the woozies. I ate the high protein portion of my lunch to even things out. Midafternoon, my right knee started aching like it used to. (My joints have been much less crabby since I made a general improvement in my diet, so for almost a month now.)

Lesson learned. I can only have banana bread when 23 other people are in line to fight me for it.

In knitting news, I've made a lot of progress on Middlest's scarf that will become a cowl. It's nearly two feet long, and I'm still having fun with it.

In order-out-of-chaos news, I tackled a small corner of my room. Disposed of Beloved's two Rolodex files. Consolidated two batches of UFOs into one basket. Scooched the banjo into a more secure spot. There is still a three inch high pile of paperwork that was resting under various bags. I'll deal with that in a day or two.

I am now free to knit with a clear conscience. And I will probably go to bed early tonight, the better to sleep off today's culinary minefield.

Notes from church.

So, yesterday I cleared off the bed. The following was the inspiration that came to me during my friend Andrea's talk in sacrament meeting. I listened with one ear and thought with the other.

Set goals that will enable me to finish the month of July with a room that is neat, clean, and orderly.

I don't understand why homemaking is so hard for me. When the kids were little, that was one reason. I was outnumbered, overwhelmed, and underfunded. As the nest emptied, it didn't get much easier. But it was all my own mess.

Anxiety meds have helped, significantly. And now two of my kids have moved back. They brought a lot of stuff with them, and their stuff is only a very small part of the problem. The mess and the clutter and the chaos is mine. With Heaven's help I can do better. I might even be able to conquer this before I go Home.

(At which point I resumed taking notes on the talks my friends were giving.)

I'm pleased to say that I had a great, relatively brief nap this afternoon. I've read a few articles in The Economist, listened to a couple of General Conference addresses, a podcast about insincere apologies, determined that a reference book on the Gospels can go back out into the bookcase in the living room since we start on Acts tomorrow, finished a chapter in the first volume of Saints, reneged on my intention to write members of Congress about the warehoused children on our southern border, read an article by Dr. James Dobson that gives a slightly different perspective on the problem, and pondered the uproar among liberals for Wayfair selling mattresses to provide for those kids. Which seems to me to be a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I'd be happier about it if they'd donated the mattress, but I can't fault them for remembering that they are a business.

There's a lot bouncing around in my head right now. I need time and space and peace to think about it all. But for now I'm going to take 15 seconds to clear off my bed (because it shouldn't take much longer after yesterday's efforts), turn off the lights, and let Heaven and my subconscious wrangle with it all.

Gack.

This will probably be written in stages. The alarm clock said that I slept for seven and a half hours. My body said otherwise. And my dreams were more weird than usual. I was attending church in an unfamiliar building with a huge parking lot, on Easter Sunday, wrapped only in a towel. I left the meeting right after taking the sacrament, because I didn't want anyone to notice(!). And then I couldn't find my car. And it was raining and very, very dark. My dad drove up to help me look. He's been gone almost 30 years. I have no idea what all of that means. I just woke up feeling dazed and slightly dark.

~~~

In which your intrepid heroine spends a couple of hours listening to "Revisionist History" while turning worn out, unsalvageable items into rags. Because she needs to clear off the bed, dust the headboard, throw away the old cheap comforter that's been living inside the nice Pottery Barn duvet cover since after Beloved's funeral, likewise the flannel sheet with holes engraved into it by her alligator heels, wash and put away the duvet cover until winter, when maybe there will be sufficient progress on the honey-do list to justify a nice duvet filler from IKEA.

All this because a cup of the sherbet from hell tipped over and spilled mango raspberry fire onto the partially shredded sheet (and the otherwise impeccable duvet cover). Thus forcing her to finally deal with the archaeological dig which is her bed.  PSA: the raspberry mango spicy sherbet from Braums is evil, and you have been warned.

~~~

I've spent the better part of the day sorting out my bed. Clothes hung up; compression socks that had escaped my notice are now matched, rolled up, and in the sock drawer; old comforter extricated from the duvet cover, which is currently tumbling in the dryer; a load of whites washed and waiting their turn; half an issue of "The Economist" devoured and almost ready for recycling; a few rows of knitting; etc. etc. etc.

I learned something while wrangling the duvet cover. It has ribbons sewn into the inside corners to hog-tie whatever one chooses to insert.

Old dog. New tricks.

I am going to need my muscle relaxer tonight. I've been using my phone as a Fitbit. It thinks I've only walked seven steps today. My feet would argue otherwise, but my pajama pants don't have pockets. So it really is true about lies, d@mn lies, and statistics.

PS: I'll have to do a bit more reorganizing in my boudoir before I can lay hands on the lambswool duster. It's around here somewhere...

Sundry bits of progress.

I think I mentioned in my big, catch-up post that I'd received a certified letter about Lorelai's having been towed. I was finally able to connect with an authority figure at the towing company to determine that the registered owner (no longer me, for something like two years) has also been contacted.

There will be another certified letter in the next few days, because I'm still listed as a former owner on the state's system, and I can safely ignore it.

I just didn't want to be the reason that the new owner never got notice of whom to contact to free Lorelai from car jail.

I've lost another two pounds through improved diet and increased movement. Furthermore, the weird drowsiness and incessant appetite have disappeared. I think my wonderful doctor will be pleased when I see her in August.

I've struggled for years with being on time for work, averaging slightly over one tardy per month. In January I was successful every blessed day. I rewarded myself by splurging on three new lipsticks and two lip pencils.

February, March, April, and May were pretty sad. But I met my goal for June, and this month's reward will be art supplies. There's a YouTube artist I follow who draws Zentangle tiles. To shade some of them, she's used aquarelle (watercolor) graphite pencils. I am charmed! I already have a healthy supply of colorful aquarelles. I've been playing with them for almost 30 years.  I've also been trying my hand with Zentangle. It's slow going, because I have to be in the mood, and mostly I'd rather knit.

I think of it mostly as a way to train my hand and eyes. I've seen a charming landscape created from various doodles, and once I have a better grasp of how to draw and combine them, I'd like to try doing still life drawings incorporating them. They appeal to the part of my brain that likes math, logic puzzles, and whimsy.

My phone wants to call it a day. It's down to 29%, and frankly so am I. Looking forward to a good night's sleep and some solid puttering tomorrow.

Mad dogs and English ma'ams.

The kids are playing some sort of video game behind me. So I have access to the computer.

It was a really, really good day. I took a little time before lunch and walked to the Records Building with various pieces of paper. Diana is now titled in my name and reflects the lien from my credit union. I could have had another baby* in the time it took to get the paperwork straightened out.

*Well, if Beloved were still mortal, and I were two to four decades younger.

I still have not been able to speak with the one person who theoretically can help me get information to Lorelai's new owner about where she (Lorelai, not the owner) was towed and how to get her out of car jail.

But for now I'm going to take my meds and try to be asleep in ten minutes or less. I only got five and a half hours of sleep last night, because of distraction. I'm hoping for eight hours tonight. I did compensate for the lack of sleep by logging almost 5,000 steps throughout the day. Tomorrow I'd like more rest and less trudging.

Night, y'all.

Productive day with no nasty surprises

I've eaten sensibly today, traveled safely, and gotten stuff done at work. Right now I am contemplating a plate with the last four strawberries and a fat handful of cherries. It is balanced atop a mug of V8.

There's been some knitting, with time to do a little more before bedtime if I choose. I don't have the ambition to draw or make music tonight.

Today I submitted this month's medical receipts for reimbursement. I was a little surprised that it won't entirely use up the balance in my fund.

And I finished straightening out some weirdness with an old, closed credit card. That account has been closed for over fifteen years. When I got the notice, in my prior married name, regarding opting out of their arbitration agreement, I thought at first that I'd been hacked.

I went to a local branch yesterday, where I was informed by a teller that the account was closed but had been racking up interest over the years with a balance now owing of $3700!!! So I waited and waited to speak with the only banker on duty, and he gave me a number to call.

I did that today. She reassured me that the account was closed, that I had paid the balance in full, and that I owed them nothing.

Whew!

So all I need to do now is get word to Lorelai's registered owner on who towed her and how to get her out of car jail. Because the notice got sent to me. Apparently s/he never bothered to get me off the title.

We've all calmed down about the pending dental work and are waiting to hear back at wonderful dentist's convenience.

It's been a much better day in my neighborhood.

Still breathing.

Andrea, thank you for the lovely comment that you left.

I miss blogging. I'm trying to figure out how to shoehorn all the things I want to do into my day, and great chunks are falling to the wayside.

Part of this is because of how much time I'm spending in the scriptures because of "Come, Follow Me." Some of it is because we moved Fourthborn in, in stages, and that took up a bunch of April and May.

She's all moved in, and I'm delighted, as is Middlest. We haven't had the chance to do the garage remodel, so currently Fourthborn is camped out in the living room, as she has been when she's visited ever since Middlest moved in. She's no longer sleeping in a pallet on the floor, or on one or the other of the geriatric cots that I inherited from Beloved. We have a very nice secondhand mattress for her, and she's significantly more comfortable.

However. Her bed is about two feet from my computer, and all three of us are on significantly different sleep schedules. If you can call them that. I learned to type on a manual typewriter, and I type loudly. Right now I'm swyping on my phone, which has its own challenges.

I'll try to bring y'all up to date before my evening meds kick in. Earlier this month, Middlest and I visited our friends in Tennessee and brought home the last dab of stuff. The living room and dining room look like an active game of Tetris.

We saw the ducks march at the Peabody Hotel in Memphis. I could get used to valet parking and five star service.

I bought the lap harp that I fell in love with on our previous visit. I've tuned it and am learning to play "Rock of Ages." I bought two skeins of souvenir yarn.

I've downloaded an app and am tracking all sorts of stuff. Because of that, I'm making better choices about what I eat. I've lost a (very) few pounds.

We had an active shooter in downtown Dallas a week ago Monday. They evacuated our building, which is kitty corner to the Federal Building. I went home and dug out the banjo and knitted.

This Monday we had some clueless guy who parked his semi by the Federal Building  and wandered away. That shut down the central business district for about four hours. I was able to get into our parking garage, and before it was time to log in, they told us to evacuate. No bomb in the semi, and we reopened at 11, which made for a short and frustratingly unproductive day. I was rather cranky on the way home.

Today I'm off, because we had our every four month dental cleanings. Our wonderful dentist is quite ill, but there is hope. The substitute is very professional, and she recommends a boatload of work on each of my bipolar bears, to the tune of approximately ten grand. I was ready to weep by the time it was my turn in the chair.

I've quietly requested that our dentist review the treatment plans and X-rays, determine how much of this is urgent, and prioritize everything.

It looks as if Fourthborn will be camping on the floor awhile longer and the garage revamp may get pushed back until next year.

That's all I've got for you at the moment. I need to swig more buttermilk, as dinner is sending up a few fireworks. Imagine that!

What I've been up to.

Discovering that I really, truly, do not like jazz. I knew that last week's concert was not going to be bluegrass, because Chick Corea is not a famous bluegrass artist. I knew that Bela Fleck pushes the boundaries for banjo, because I read a lot. I am glad that I went. And I left after the first set, because my feet had begun their "get me out of here" dance.

The Majestic Theatre is a beautiful venue, and I hope that future adventures take me there again. The seats are comfortable, and the acoustics are good. My two favorite songs they played were improvisations on two piano sonatas by Scarlatti. I'm not sure that there's any Italian (instrumental) composer I do not like. Respighi is almost but not quite too modern (i.e., shapeless, dissonant, and painful). I like his "Pines of Rome" and companion pieces, and I don't know if I've heard anything else of his. Rossini, Scarlatti, and Vivaldi? Bring it on!

We've already established that I don't have much patience for opera, largely because of how uncomfortable the seating is at the Winspear Opera House. I loved Carmen. Even though I found the choreography a bit shocking. I loved "The Marriage of Figaro," because it was simulcast, and I got to see the singers' faces and the costumes clearly.

So I paid a modest amount to hear technical virtuosity, and I learned more about what I do and do not like in music, and I had an adequate but unmemorable dinner out beforehand, and a great experience with the valet parking, and I met another fiber artist in the loo after dinner. We exchanged contact information.

I took Thursday off, because I'd been expecting to be out later than I was, and I slept in, and it was delicious. Later in the day, I took Fourthborn back to the apartment for a second load of stuff, and I bought five books on Zentangle techniques, and we had dinner at IHOP.

Saturday I finished the sashiko-inspired mending of the holes near the hem of my favorite teal skirt, and Sunday I wore the skirt to church. Yesterday I wore it to work. Saturday I also began basting the lace to the hem of my tunic. I haven't touched it since then, but I'll probably work on it some more tomorrow night.

Saturday we made one last trip to Fourthborn's apartment, and she left the keys in the kitchen for J. He and his mother will be cleaning up the apartment. Our part is done. (Fourthborn has helped him move his parents more than once, so she's already done her share.)

I've already adjusted my withholding at work, but it probably won't take effect this pay period. First of the month, I'll add Fourthborn to my healthcare reimbursement account.

I'm starting to fade, so this will have to do.

I have reservations.

Actually, only one. Yesterday I purchased a ticket to next Wednesday's performance at the Majestic Theatre by Bela Fleck and Chick Corea. (For about half of what it would have cost me to sit on the grass and listen to Joan Baez a few weeks ago.) I've never been to this venue before, and I understand that it's a good one. Since it's not far from my office, and I have three hours between the time I get off and the concert begins, I did a quick scout of nearby restaurants and found one with food I will probably like, at a price that I probably won't flinch to pay, that's a very short walk from both the venue and the parking garage, and I made a reservation. I will take my knitting and a book and see what feels most appealing once dinner is down the hatch.

Earlier this week I had two free tickets to a performance by the Dallas Winds at the Meyerson Symphony Center, because I am a "Friend of WRR." The music was largely out of my wheelhouse, and the middle piece was something that would have inspired me to turn off the radio or switch stations, but there is something about being "forced" to sit and be polite and listen that is eye-opening. Or at least ear-opening.

I handed out three pairs of baby socks at church on Sunday. I'm working on the second sock for another pair of Frankensocks, where I cast on half of the stitches in one color and the remainder in another, and then I spiral around until it's time for the heel flap. It's a lot of fun, and it productively uses up various yarn remnants

I've also been watching one or two Zentangle videos on YouTube in the evenings. I am really drawn (yes, I went there) to the technique, and I'm making myself finish two sewing projects before I allow myself to buy supplies and books.

My turquoise maxi skirt has had the hem chewed in several places by the wheels of my chair at work. I'm going to try my hand at sashiko. Heaven knows that I have enough fabric scraps for backing from one quilt top or another.

I'm actually feeling brave enough to start the first patch. Wish me luck.

6.7. How on earth did that happen?

This has been a wonderful, amazing day. Errands and self-care in the morning: podiatrist (hoof trimming and diabetic foot check); La Madeleine for quiche Florentine; Costco for muffins and granola, as we were out of both; Supercuts to get my ends trimmed; Goodwill to re-home a large grocery bag of clothing that no longer sparked joy; post office to drop off Easter cards to the sisters I used to visit teach and now, theoretically, minister to.

My amazing sister made me a quilt!!!!! I'll share a picture (eventually), but first I need to clear off the bed, dust it, and decide where all the stuff that hangs out on the fallow side of the bed wants to be, instead.

Last month I spent two to three weeks rehabbing my favorite 20 year old skirt. I wore it and have washed it and will probably iron it in the next day to three months. Because ironing is a thing that has to be done (a) when the mood strikes and (b) when my lower half feels like cooperating (not so much head and shoulders, but definitely knees and toes). I am currently embellishing the pockets on a black and grey striped Gudrun dress. I'm doing individual lazy daisy stitches, about 1/8" long, and it's s*l*o*w going. At this point I haven't decided if there will be other stitches and, if so, what color they will be.

I'm also knitting yet another pair of baby socks, using red variegated Regia and orange variegated Three Irish Girls. Also very slow going, and not really car knitting.

And I'm reading a real book. One I bought year before last and couldn't stay with but now makes perfect sense as I read it. My attention span is a weird and special thing.

Time for me to take my evening meds and, notwithstanding the four hour nap I had earlier today, go back to bed.

Hi. I've missed you.

It's Sunday evening. I'm back from taking Fourthborn home. We had a good visit. Virtually nothing got done in the garage while she was here, but what did get done, she did.

I prayed and pondered all the way home, and the only thing that came to me was to come here and make a list.

Things I want/need to do:

1. Study the New Testament.
2. Not neglect the Book of Mormon. (It's definitely taken a back seat to "Come, Follow Me.)
3. Pray without falling asleep, or wandering off mentally.
4. Make music.
5. Mend/embellish my clothing (boro/sashiko/visible mending).
6. Clear off the fallow side of the bed. This is somewhat urgent, as the plumber is coming tomorrow to unplug the sink in Middlest's bathroom and make that commode stop spontaneously flushing and get my shower to start draining again. I don't want him to get caught in an avalanche.
7. Clear a path on the floor in my room, also relating to access for the plumber. And my general mental health.
8. Read for information. I'm three months behind in The Economist.
9. Read for pleasure. I keep putting things on my Kindle. I have no idea where my Kindle is. Probably on the fallow side of the bed.
10. Learn to draw.
11. Blog.
12. Make most of my own jewelry.
13. Buy more Gudrun Sjoden.
14. Minister to my elusive ministering sisters.
15. Sleep.
16. Exercise.
17. Spend more time in the temple.
18. Exercise (that would be a need, not a want).
19. Family history research.

Rinse and repeat.

I asked Heavenly Father what His priorities are for me. Still waiting for an answer. I should probably take that to the temple in the next couple of weeks and ask again. Meanwhile, I'm going to pop on a New Testament podcast or related General Conference talk and knit. Later (probably much later than I'd like), gators.