Unfortunately, the Blogger app on my phone will not let me post pictures. Last night I came up with my very own ornate design. This evening I followed one of the weekly prompts in a tangling group I've joined.
Funeral tomorrow for my wonderful dentist. I've got appointments scheduled for October with a local office that was highly recommended by three RS sisters in my ward.
Time to put my art supplies away, take my meds, and go to bed. Night, y'all.
That's how much sleep I got last night. I finally had to take a diclofenac around midnight. I'll do do again tonight.
Had a good checkup this morning. I'm down 15 pounds from three months ago. Haven't gotten the lab results back yet, but I'm hopeful that my A1c and cholesterol numbers will be proportionately improved as well.
Will be taking half doses of the Lexapro to see if my perceived reduction in stress continues, with the idea of weaning off it entirely.
My appetite was erratic today. When I finished the lab work I went to IHOP and had a reasonably portioned, reasonably healthy meal. All the way to work, Stomach was asking "When eat? When eat?"
So I stopped at Whole Foods and put together a salad for lunch. And then ate two sausage kolaches (bakery pigs in blankets) to celebrate my weight loss. Followed about an hour later by the salad and two small mozzarella sticks swaddled in prosciutto. I had to keep taking swigs of Cherry Coke to keep my eyes open. And I triple-checked my work until time to go home.
Dinner was two leftover slices of cauliflower pizza and a scoop of ice cream. I'm knackered. But Brain thinks we want to draw a little before turning off the lights.
I think I'll spend much of this weekend snoozing. We shall see.
Last year (I think it was last year) I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis in my left foot. I acquired a podiatrist, over the counter orthotics, and had to give up my beloved Dansko clogs, which I had worn in various iterations for roughly twenty years.
I loathe spending money on shoes. For the past several years I've gone to Academy and bought whatever was on sale. I bought two pairs last time. A conservative black pair. A pair that shifts from red to orange and tones wonderfully with my favorite combination of Gudrun pieces. A couple of evenings ago, I stepped out of bed and felt a dull ache when my left heel touched the floor. I felt it again when I got out of bed this morning, and intermittently when I walked.
Tomorrow night I'm going back to Academy, hoping for a good sale on a better pair of shoes. Ones where the insoles come out and the orthotics can go in. Meanwhile I'm treading gingerly with bare feet inside my penultimate purchase, which has my orthotics. I will probably wear those to work tomorrow. They're a little worn looking, and it's better than limping or muttering childbirth words.
In more exciting news, I have my quarterly diabetes checkup tomorrow morning, and I think my wonderful doctor is going to be pleased.
I really had fun drawing last night. Stayed up too late and am likely to do it again tonight. Starting right about now.
How slow, you ask? Slow enough that today, after sending out my "will type for food" email, I finished reading one issue of The Economist and made a good start on another. At this rate, I should be all caught up by the time our office is ready for us to return.
I'm having fun working on my sister's birthday present. I'm having fun with Zentangle. I'm madly in love with the new translation of the New Testament.
Which is now calling to me in dulcet tones. Night, y'all!
I got through the day on about five hours of sleep. Usual breakfast, stop at Chick-Fil-A because I had a gift card. That bowl kept me full until lunchtime. All that I ate from my lunch bag were two small breadsticks and my pistachio-and-Craisin mix. A very few ounces of Coke, and I was buzzing all day. I'd been home for over an hour when I finally wound down. I managed my 5000 steps for the day (currently sitting at 5303), but I will not make today's knitting goal or do any drawing. Instead, I'm taking my meds about an hour early, turning off the light, and hoping for about nine hours of sleep. Pretty sure that a lot of this weekend will be spent horizontal and unconscious. Although there *is* family brunch on Saturday morning. Night, y'all.
We had one tonight, via conference call, with 80% of the kids and one son in love, regarding the children's father, who is Not Doing Well. We came to consensus on what needs to be done, and we have various tasks broken down by who is best suited for it. We talked on the phone for a little over an hour, and everyone was polite and thoughtful and helpful, just like families are supposed to be. I wish our family home evenings had been like this when they were little. (Instead of being the only family fight that begins and ends with prayer.) I am so proud of these people that their father and I made. Further affiant sayeth naught.
I finished last night's Zentangle and a new one before the conference call. I was halfway done with the next when I put my pens down. I finished it afterward and ate one and only one small bite of Nutella, and read a little more and noodled on Facebook and it's midnight and I'm not sleepy and I have to leave for work in a bit less than eight hours.
Blest be the ties that bind. Even 23 years post-divorce and six years post sealing cancellation and sealing to Beloved. I wish he (Beloved, obviously) were here tonight.
... how much I like nectarines. I bought one, and only one, the other day because I didn't know if Middlest or Fourthborn like them, and I wasn't sure if I was up to eating three of them. I left it in the plastic bag and put it in the fridge.
This morning I decided I'd better eat it before it died of old age. Didn't want to squirt juice all over my clothing, so I sliced it six ways from Sunday and thumbed the sections into a small take-along.
After eating my sandwich, I only had room for one bite. So now I am sitting in bed, noodling around on my phone, and eating the rest of the nectarine. Cutting it up was one of the better ideas I've had. Because as much as I didn't want to get juice all over my clothes or my chin, I especially don't want to get it on the sheets.
I spent about half of the day in a series of meetings, which I guess is a pretty good thing, because I didn't have all that much to do until the last hour or so. New case, answer thankfully not due for another week, and a full set of discovery that I can clean up for our paralegal when I'm back on Monday morning.
Plan for this weekend is to putter a little and create a lot. More Zentangle. More knitting. Maybe start putting some of my bead acquisitions together for new earrings. A whole lot of reading, I hope.
Nectarine is finished. And so, my dears, am I.
I may have moaned and gritched about this. If so, I've slept since then. The 20th anniversary (with the corporation) gift which I chose was a designer bag, of the brand which Firstborn prefers. I didn't open the box for something like a week. When I did, the purse was smaller than I'd envisioned, and I certainly couldn't lug all the stuff that I was accustomed to. And I wasn't sure that I liked it all that much. It retailed for nearly half again as much as the bag I chose five years ago, which is hanginging dejectedly from a knob on one of my dressers, whimpering in leathery tones, "Don't you love me anymore?"
There are a few things that I'm discovering that I like about the new bag. It fits neatly under my arm and stays on my sloping shoulder, probably because it weighs five pounds max, and not fifteen. Like me, it has a quirky shape. It's black, so it works for work or church or family brunch at IKEA.
I'm hard on bags. My favorite was a large red leather tote from Franklin (as in Franklin Planner) that I bought half-off at a price that nearly choked me. And was a fraction of what either of these bags would retail for. Good purses, like good steaks, should cost less than $10. Right? I stuffed that bag like a pregnant elephant, and it lasted at least five years. The bag which is in timeout no longer stands tall like a soldier on review. It bulges out on the front and back. It has hourglass creases on the sides. And it probably has another 15-20 years of usefulness left. I'm wondering how well this fancier bag will last. It's more delicately constructed.
In other news, if you start drinking 64 ounces of water a day, and one day you drink half that much, your hands and forearms will tattle on you. I'm naming the left one Mojave and the other one Sahara.
When the workmen tore out the last of the kitchen cabinets at work this past weekend, they discovered mold. Our office manager texted us last night that we would tentatively open at 1pm, pending what a mold expert had to say. Midmorning, we got another text, stating that we were closed for the day and that there would be another text no later than 8pm regarding whether we would open tomorrow.
Currently, we are looking at a tentative opening time of 1pm but are not to go in until we get the all clear, which may not happen until close to noon. Followed half an hour ago with notice that the kitchen would be sealed off and completely unavailable and to plan accordingly, if we are allowed to go in.
So, what have I done today? Read. Knitted. Read some more. Gone out for dim sum with doll friends to celebrate Middlest's birthday, which was yesterday. Napped. Read, again. Tidied my room a little more. Gathered up clothing for donation. Finessed the timing for salmon burgers in my George Foreman grill. After eating rather too much dim sum and the consequent nap, my body was vaguely hungry but pleaded, No more carbs, please, for the love of all that's good and holy.
I have trundled the trash bin down to the street and am now enjoying my cool, quiet bedroom, about to wash my evening meds down with buttermilk, which minimizes the dysphagia. And then I'll turn out one light and read (surprise!) by the other until my eyes say we're done. No need to set the alarm tonight.
I could get used to this.
You know how lots of people don't want to engage with others in the morning until they've had one or many cups of coffee? Not an option since my baptism 44 years ago next month. (Plus, I never really liked the stuff. It just makes me sweat and skip to the loo.)
I can't say if I've been this way all my life or if it began when I had a houseful of teenagers and a growing disconnect in my marriage to their father. But I crave solitude at the beginning and end of the day.
At various times I've ma'amaged this by mall walking or by doing needlework in the foyer when the kids were in seminary or by having a mini-devotional or by going to the gym. (Walking several laps in cool water brings both alertness and calm. It's as close to Zen as I'm likely to get without knitting in my hands.)
I finally found the metaphor for this over breakfast with Middlest a week or so ago. (I think Fourthborn was still snoozing.) Defragging. He nodded in recognition.
Most days I've spent enough time awake in my room, with three quick games on my phone followed by diving into my scriptures, that I can genuinely enjoy any available companionship over breakfast. I am both ready and delighted to be civil.
Other days, especially those where sleep or dreams went sideways, I just want to stay in my room until it's time to deal with the breakfast dishes, sluice off, and slink out the door to work.
~~~
It's been a good weekend. Decent progress on Middlest's scarf/cowl. (Maybe I should just call it a scowl?) I've eaten wisely and well. There has been napping. And masses of reading. Church was great, as usual. I've tried to be sensible about media consumption. Spent time hanging out with the dead people after church today. Discovered that I have a plethora of fourth cousins here in Texas. I've made goals for non-scriptural reading for this week. Just need to go into Come, Follow Me and bookmark the lesson, the readings, and the adjunct material. The videos for last week's reading were deeply touching.
Middlest has been the primary document shredder chez nous for quite some time. I've tossed a lot of paper onto the shred pile in the past week and a half. Thankfully, he's not had a chance to do anything about that. Because I accidentally sorted the current bill for my long term care premium into the shred pile, and three minutes of careful digging has retrieved it.
Work went well today. And on one of my skips to the loo, I was able to help an attorney in another firm on our floor get back into her suite. No, I did not pick the lock. I had my phone with me. She gave me her number. An associate answered and came to let her in.
Not much knitting so far today. I'm going to put things away, turn down the lights, and try to go to bed by 9pm, aiming for a solid eight hours before morning.
I've mentioned that the office is being remodeled. The support columns throughout our office used to have mahogany(ish) baseboards around them. Even the round ones. I think all of the columns have been repainted at this point. Two of the round ones have now have vinyl baseboards. I asked the managing attorney if this was going to be the new aesthetic. She hadn't noticed.
This, after a morning in which the workmen were drilling ten feet from my desk when I got to work. It was audible all the way across the office. It continued for another hour or so, until someone spoke to someone who spoke with someone else, who made it stop. The managing attorney was not made aware of it until after it was blessedly quiet. (Both she and the office manager were elsewhere at the time.)
Mid-afternoon, the head of the building management company arrived in our suite with a peace offering: at least two dozen fresh from the oven cookies from Tiff's Treats.
The renovation guys were absent yesterday, and they're not supposed to be working tomorrow or over the weekend.
In knitting news, Middlest's cowl-in-embryo is now a scarf just short of two feet long. I've knitted up all of the pre-knitted dark blue but am still soldiering away on the lighter blue. Also, I found my little red clicker row counter. And three separate patterns that had gone AWOL.
Furthermore, I've sorted through massive amounts of accumulated paperwork that I collected last Saturday: trash, recycling, shredding, and deal with it already. There's a half inch stack of envelopes in the last category, in a pile by my left elbow.
I caught up my financial spreadsheets, and my credit score is four points higher than last month. Baby steps. I had some momentary panic last week when I learned how much dental work the kids need, according to the dentist who's filling in for our regular dentist while he deals with an acute health issue. Assuming he concurs, it will have to be piecemeal.
OK, I'm going to tackle the deal with it pile. Later, gators.
Banana bread is my nemesis. Or my Waterloo. Or my anti-matter. One of my coworkers made two loaves this weekend and brought them to work. I did my impression of a sensible diabetic and took half a slice. And then the other half. And then...
Predictably, within the hour I had the woozies. I ate the high protein portion of my lunch to even things out. Midafternoon, my right knee started aching like it used to. (My joints have been much less crabby since I made a general improvement in my diet, so for almost a month now.)
Lesson learned. I can only have banana bread when 23 other people are in line to fight me for it.
In knitting news, I've made a lot of progress on Middlest's scarf that will become a cowl. It's nearly two feet long, and I'm still having fun with it.
In order-out-of-chaos news, I tackled a small corner of my room. Disposed of Beloved's two Rolodex files. Consolidated two batches of UFOs into one basket. Scooched the banjo into a more secure spot. There is still a three inch high pile of paperwork that was resting under various bags. I'll deal with that in a day or two.
I am now free to knit with a clear conscience. And I will probably go to bed early tonight, the better to sleep off today's culinary minefield.
So, yesterday I cleared off the bed. The following was the inspiration that came to me during my friend Andrea's talk in sacrament meeting. I listened with one ear and thought with the other.
Set goals that will enable me to finish the month of July with a room that is neat, clean, and orderly.
I don't understand why homemaking is so hard for me. When the kids were little, that was one reason. I was outnumbered, overwhelmed, and underfunded. As the nest emptied, it didn't get much easier. But it was all my own mess.
Anxiety meds have helped, significantly. And now two of my kids have moved back. They brought a lot of stuff with them, and their stuff is only a very small part of the problem. The mess and the clutter and the chaos is mine. With Heaven's help I can do better. I might even be able to conquer this before I go Home.
(At which point I resumed taking notes on the talks my friends were giving.)
I'm pleased to say that I had a great, relatively brief nap this afternoon. I've read a few articles in The Economist, listened to a couple of General Conference addresses, a podcast about insincere apologies, determined that a reference book on the Gospels can go back out into the bookcase in the living room since we start on Acts tomorrow, finished a chapter in the first volume of Saints, reneged on my intention to write members of Congress about the warehoused children on our southern border, read an article by Dr. James Dobson that gives a slightly different perspective on the problem, and pondered the uproar among liberals for Wayfair selling mattresses to provide for those kids. Which seems to me to be a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I'd be happier about it if they'd donated the mattress, but I can't fault them for remembering that they are a business.
There's a lot bouncing around in my head right now. I need time and space and peace to think about it all. But for now I'm going to take 15 seconds to clear off my bed (because it shouldn't take much longer after yesterday's efforts), turn off the lights, and let Heaven and my subconscious wrangle with it all.
