Likely Yarns: Tales of Knitting and Other Likely Pursuits: Personal

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100 Things

It has come to my attention that since my move to the grand Southwest (I'm not trying to rub it in or anything, but it's pushing 80 here today, and I had to put the shades back on the family room window 'cuz it was HOT!), some of the 100 things were no longer valid, so here's a current, updated version.

Also, I'm still feeling a bit under the weather after whatever knocked me out last weekend, so I don't feel like taking pics. Tucson ribbed T is done and washed and ready for photo-ing. Have started work on a secret (until April) project I'm loving (details at Ravelry).

But here goes -- 100 (or so) things:

My favorite vegetable is brussels sprouts

My second favorite is asparagus

~~With the exception of <2 years of my early childhood, I have never lived outside New England~~

I made the 2nd biggest leap of faith in my life when I left New England for the wilds of Arizona -- and so far I'm loving it

I really don't like the cold

AT ALL

Though I do love sledding

I've never been downhill skiing

And I don't ever plan to

I once ran over my own leg with a lawn tractor (don't ask me how)

I am afraid of the dark

I am also slightly claustrophobic

Ouija boards do not "work" when I'm in the room

My favorite sport to watch on TV is football

My favorite sport to watch in person is hockey

The only sport I've ever come close to being good at is tennis

I can't play any more because I have carpal tunnel in both wrists

And no ACL in my left knee

I always knew I would be a pastor's wife

I always knew I would never have children

I learned to knit when I was five years old

I learned to crochet shortly thereafter

While my mother knits (and taught me to knit) English, she sent me to my aunt to learn to knit continental because she thought it would be faster

I now knit some sort of combination knitting

I didn't know until recently that that's what it is called

A few years ago I lost 70+ pounds

I have gained about 20 of it back

While I would love to be a size 8 again, I am coming to terms with 12

I quit smoking without going through any withdrawal

I eat a banana every day

Some irrational part of me thinks that if I don't I will die

I never had training wheels -- before my father could get them on my first two-wheeler, I got on and took off without wobbling or falling

This astounds me because I'm one of the most clumsy people I know

Everyone in my immediate family graduated from high schools whose colors were black and orange

I hate black and orange

I don't have a favorite color

But if I did it would be green (or red, or purple, or pink... you get the point)

It would never be blue

I could best be described as a libertarian

~~I currently live in my dream house~~

~~Unfortunately, we don't own it~~

~~But you should see the view~~

I didn't want a dog because they need to be taken for walks during blizzards

Now that I live in Tucson, this isn't a concern

Though now heat stroke and rattlesnakes are

We adopted one anyway

I love him and can't imagine life without him

And I've discovered snow isn't half as bad as cold and wind

I am still a cat person

We also have 2 cats

Our baby boy cat was seized from an abusive home by DSS

He has finally lost his fear of the appliances (except the vacuum)

He's still not sure about strangers, though he's incredibly curious about everything

And for some reason, he seems completely unfrightened by children, even the really loud, active ones

Don't tell my parents, but all those times they couldn't find Scott and me at church we were up in the belfry

It had the best view in town

Sometimes I yearn to preach

I could never be a church pastor because once a year I would have to lead worship from a chancel filled with Easter lilies, and that just might kill me -- literally

If it pollinates, chances are I'm allergic to it

I am far more physically fit than I look

I work out nearly every day

I LOVE to work out

I don't believe in the death penalty

I love it when someone else cooks me breakfast

Numbers (NOT the book of the Bible) don't always make sense to me

Come to think of it, Numbers (the book of the Bible) doesn't always make sense either

I have always preferred the company of men

If I were still single and he asked, I would probably marry JD

Not that he'd ask

And I can't really imagine me as an Army Officer's wife

M says it's probably a lot like being a pastor's wife

I am an INTP

I wish we had more lesbian friends, but...

I am intimidated by many lesbians, and...

I find many others way too angry to be around.

I don't understand the reluctance/fear most people seem to have about dating/marrying/having sex with an ordained person

It pains me to watch our single clergy friends struggle with this

My favorite book of the Bible is Philippians

Don't tell my wife or his, but I have just the tiniest crush on the minister who married us

I changed my mind about college majors because I was afraid of the particle accelerator

Yeah, I know in my mind it's not dangerous

I chose my college major because it had the fewest in-subject requirements

Yes, I took full advantage of the breadth of a liberal arts education

I have been told on multiple occasions that I am "too smart"

I still don't understand what people mean by that

I know what they mean by "too intense," and I own it

My dream job is homemaker

With a sideline as a freelance writer/editor

It's taken me years to be able to admit that

I am one of the most honest people I know

Honest in that fairly transparent, motives up front, what-you-see-is-what-you-get sort of way

NOT honest in that rude-in-the-name-of-honesty way (see this commentary by Stephanie -- it's #3, the big question)

Sometimes this gets me in trouble in interpersonal relationships because I behave as if other people are just as honest

No matter how much evidence I've seen that they aren't, I am still usually blindsided by other people's duplicitousness

I am a process knitter

And once I've figured out the process, projects can languish

I fell in love with weaving the first night of my first ever weaving class

I bought a loom shortly thereafter

As with knitting and crochet, I am nearly fearless when it comes to weaving projects

~~I've wanted a workshop for ages, and now that I have it, I don't use a lot it because I miss M too much when I'm up there~~

I have had a compulsion to write since I was old enough to do so

I never thought I would like ballroom dancing

After marrying a ballroom dancer, I find I love it

But I think I really only love dancing with M

I passed the Jeopardy test once

But I didn't get on the show

"We'll Never Find Another Sandy"*

Or, these are a few of my favorite things. Yes, there's knitting content here, really.

My iPod shuffle, in lime green, of course. Working in a bunker in the ground with one other person who does an entirely separate job means that sometimes I need some stimulation. What I love about the shuffle is that I can load it with podcasts, audiobooks, and a whole ton of music. Set on shuffle, it just plays my music randomly; turn off the shuffle, and I can listen to pocasts and audiobooks at lunch or while doing the more mundane daily tasks. It is my best friend at work.

No, it's not a Pandora. We did a lot of research before buying this, perhaps more than either of us did for our current cars ("It's nice; I liked the last one I owned; I'll take it -- do you have it in silver?"). And our research showed us that there are a lot of Troll beads which we really liked, and, while Pandora beads fit on Troll bracelets, the opposite is not the case.

So, it's a silver Troll bracelet with a fish clasp, and just two beads to start (but, there's a wishlist). I think of it as my "thank you for moving to Tucson" gift. Faith, hope, and love for the elements which support the adventure we've embarked upon, and a cactus (that should be obvious).

And now for some knitting content:

Actually, it's only the first of the Red Sox -- the other is still just a ribbed band.

Pattern: My own, perhaps I'll write it up
Yarn: Cascade Fixation, 2 balls 3678 and 1 ball 8176
Needle: Addi Turbo 32" #4, magic loop style

I love the Red Sox, and I am so excited about this sock. And they will work great for Christmas, too.

* [Second title explanation in a row.] This is a direct quote from a member of the Advisory Group which oversees the Depository where I work. He is also a member of the search committee charged with finding my replacement and the person who will train my replacement. He made this comment to the chair of the search committee (who is also my boss) while they were going over resumes.

One of my very favoritest things right now is this job, and the appreciation which this comment shows for me and my efforts here. This is so very, very gratifying after what seems like ages (it was really less than 2 1/2 years) of working for people who, well, let's just say they most decidedly DIDN'T appreciate me. I have loved my time here, and it pains me to leave, though I am excited about the adventure ahead. I tell myself every day how lucky I was to find this job and these people to wash the bad taste away after my previous experience and remind me that working outside the home can be a very good thing.

They Think so Small, They Use Small Words

[Which reminds me that one of the (many) moments that told me M was the one for me was the day she called and told me that she hadn't been able to email that day because she was dealing with a recalcitrant computer.]

BTW -- there ain't no knitting content here, so if you're seeking, move along for today.

It occurs to me that an explanation might be in order for a recent post title. While I have always believed Peter Gabriel's song to be satirical if not completely self mocking, I have to say that lately I've been seeing some truth in it as well. [Forgive me, while packing I discovered the CDs of cheesy 80s music which belong to my college class -- which must be sent off to Susan before we move so that they may be available for next year's 20th (gasp!) reunion festivities -- and I loaded them onto my iPod.]

After a few years of living in and confronting (on so many fronts) the establishment of a small, small town, I have realized that there are small town people, and then there are the rest of us. It was not my intention to dis' this small town where I live or the people who love it. It is a perfectly nice place ... if you like small towns ... and were born and raised here ... and desire nothing more than to maintain the status quo (or, better yet, turn back the clock 50 years) ... and you never, ever, not even in the private recesses of your own thoughts, refer to taking the husks off corn as shucking (don't ask). I did not say I was too GOOD for this small town, only that I'm too big for it.

I grew up in New England (though, admittedly in a NOT small town), and I have always had a romantic attraction to what Bill Bryson (if you haven't, you should) called the "white-steepled beauty" if its small towns. I just haven't always had a practical affinity for them.

So for now, bring on the city (though not the "big, big city") and its transplants who don't have 250 years of family history struggling against any change, good or bad. Bring on a highly educated, highly curious, highly motivated population of people who have chosen to leave behind all that history and live in a harsh climate amongst the beasts and the cacti.

Most of all, just get me out of this small, small town.

De-Tox, Re-Tox, and De-Tox Again
(and other tales of vacation)

So, I think I mentioned before that M and I were engaged in a spring detox regimen because we came out of winter feeling completely blah. Well, we cleverly planned it so our detox ended a couple days before we headed for vacation.

Did the detox work? Oh yes, indeed, it did. We were both feeling better, looking better (clearer skin and everything), and our clothes were getting downright big. Hooray.

Well, we decided to be bad on vacation, and boy did I pay for it. My system rebelled big time against the excess of bad food being put into it. So now that we're home, it's back to strict detox for another week, then just eating healthy until we can lose the rest of the weight we are looking to get rid of (I'm aiming for a size 10 by the UCC's General Synod at the end of June -- not an unreachable goal, but it'll take work).

We did have a wonderful time despite my system's rebellion and the snow. We pretty much had the Inn to ourselves since most other guests had bugged out at the threat of up to a foot of new snow to start the week. The foot of snow never materialized, and we were able to enjoy all of our favorite White Mountain pursuits (with the exception of hiking 'cause the trails were just way too muddy). This time we even indulged ourselves with in-room massages. After that we realized the we both need to get massages more often.

So, now we're home, the rain has finally stopped, and it's supposed to hit the mid-80s today (before dropping back into the 50s by mid-week; this is, after all, spring in New England). I hauled the grill out of the garage yesterday and grilled both lunch and dinner. We also found one of the few creamees that are open this early and indulged in a little cold refreshment -- much to Pupper's delight; he loves ice cream. [For those who are wondering, "creamee" is Western Mass speak for a shack by the side of the road where one can buy soft serve ice cream. Some also do hard ice cream, burgers and hot dogs, french fries and the like, but the soft serve is what defines a creamee.]

But one of my favorite things about summer's imminent arrival is this:

hot pink toe nails and my way cool sandals-of-many-colors.

There was some of the promised knitting on the trip.

Please excuse my very white legs -- would you believe I've already done two applications of self-tanner?

Pattern: Top-down sock; 72 stitches; stockinette leg and foot; 2x2 cuff; short-row heel; round toe
Yarn: Plymouth Sockotta #5616, 1 ball
Needle: Inox nickel-plated 40" #0; magic loop, one at a time

I love these socks, with the possible exception of the round toe. I don't think I'll be doing those again. The colors are perfect for those summer times when I need socks for whatever reason. Sockotta is fairly easy to work with, though I find it a little hard. Perhaps it'll soften with washing. I have another ball of Sockotta in color 367 which I will probably be making another pair of simple socks from, but not right now. While I love knitting socks on size 0 needles, they take a toll on my fingers. If I had a dime for every time I poke a hole in the tip of my index fingers with the needle....

So, the next socks will be my purple fixation socks, the ones I had to buy the yarn for after finishing M's pink ones. They're knit on a more reasonable size 4 -- hard to poke holes in my fingers.

I did finish the Cork sweater as well, but it's upstairs drying on Clara, and since it looks absolutely awful on her, you'll have to wait until it's dry and I can do a mirror shot of it on me. And I've got a few inches done on the back of the crocus tank I'm making for M and I.

And finally, here's what the approach of summer looks like at the parsonage (the kitties love their porch):

Retreat!

But first, this is spring in western MA:

and so is this:

and this:

and most especially this:

That's actually our very own maple tree, being tapped by a neighbor who's promised us some syrup. Everywhere you go around here this time of year you see two things: 1) sap lines running into collection barrels; and 2) snowmobile trails through snow-covered fields. It's a nice reminder that there are still pockets of rural America around.

And now for the retreat. M and I have both been feeling the need for one for a while, so last night I called our favorite B&B and scheduled some away time for a few days next month. This beautiful and charming inn in the White Mountains is where we went on our first vacation together and where we spent our honeymoon. The plan for the week is us, a pile of books, a tote or two of yarn and -- if it's chilly enough -- a fire. Oh, and a bag or two of penny candy from Chutters (LOVE that place!).

The inn is homey, serves a great hearty country breakfast, and is surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery God ever created. There are some great restaurants in the area, some fun shopping to be had, and lots of relaxing to be done. It is the perfect place for a pastor and her wife who just need some time away.

I know, I know, now that I'm not working things should be so much better, and they are, most definitely. But even when you're happy there's still that need to get away for a while, and we haven't done so for a year and a half.

And now, the greatest cat toy ever.

Hours of fun for your cat (and for you), all for the bargain price of $2.89. It even comes with a free gallon of milk. The Queen B (who DOESN'T play, mind you) has been batting this thing around for hours.

Interior ReDesign

Happy Spring!
12 hours and counting...

Been in the throes since Friday of a redesign of the office. M and I now have side-by-side desks facing out the windows towards the library. She has access to the books she needs for worship planning, and I have access to the printer with the card reader so I can upload photos so much more easily. We are well on our way to being able to list the old computer desk on Freecycle (I love Freecycle) and getting it out of here so the loom can be moved downstairs. If no one bites on Freecycle, the Swap Shed at the dump opens in May, though we'd really rather not have to move the thing ourselves.

The resulting long-overdue clean/purge of the file cabinets and desks will send six bags of recyclable paper (most of it shredded) off to the dump today. I'm hoping there'll be room for me and Pupper once I have all the trash, recycling and compost in the car.

And that's what I've been doing with my weekend. Did a little bit of work on Crocus Tank over the weekend, but I am knitting wounded right now, so discomfort kinda prevailed. Oh, it's not a horrible wound, just one of those really deep skin splits that plague me every winter. This one, on the tip of my right thumb, makes holding the needles (especially size 5 needles -- let's not discuss the size 1 I'm knitting the socks on) rather painful.

In the interest of knitting content, however:

The nearly-done back of crocus. I am still worried about the quantity of yarn. I am almost at the shoulder shaping for the back and about to finish the 3rd of 6 balls. I realize the front will take less yarn, but this thing has ribbing at the neck and sleeve openings, and that'll eat up yarn. Will probably call Karen this morning and have her set another ball aside just in case.

Here's a close-up of the crocus lace motif:

The sun is finally shining again, so the color is fairly accurate in the first shot -- a little washed out in the close up.

As for the rainbow socks:

I have turned the heel and gotten going on the leg. It was completely unplanned, but I have to love how the light blue stripe was just enough for the toe and then just enough for the heel. There are about 5 color stripes left before I finish, so they should make it to knee sock length. The foot is a smidge too long for my feet, but they fit M perfectly, and since most of the other socks I've made (with the exception of her Pink Socks) fit my feet perfectly but are small on her, I guess it's only fair.

And now I leave you with this beefcake shot, courtesy of our delightfully sweet K-Man, showing off all he ain't got.

Back to Normal, And a Recipe

You know your marriage is suffering from too much togetherness when you get into a screaming match (and one of you storms out of the house, taking the dog) over a FIG SQUARE. Yep -- that's what we'd come to by Friday. I can certainly relate to how Stephanie feels about having Joe underfoot while he's between situations.

But this morning M went to school for the first time in over a week and a half and only the second time in over 2 weeks. Now the pupper, kitties and I have the place to ourselves and peace reigns once again here at the parsonage. I should be cleaning the place since I haven't cleaned in a week, but for now here I sit at the computer catching up on emails, updating the Church's website, sending out this week's press release, job hunting, and doing a little bit of writing.

Nothing new to report on the job front. I have applied for some things from which it is probably too soon to expect any news. I have applied for some things for which I know I am overqualified and therefore probably won't get anywhere. We'll see.

It's interesting how many people seem honestly worried that I haven't found a job or at least gotten tons of interviews by now. M and I (and a few of our more astute friends) may be the only ones who aren't terribly anxious for me to find another job. I am looking (it is a condition of Unemployment and it is part of my nature), and if the right job came along I would accept it. I am also very aware that M is looking for a new church, and when she finds one it will necessitate moving out of commuting range for any job physically located here.

It is a dilemma, and one which could be solved if I did what M wants me to do and started weaving seriously and trying to sell my stoles. It would also be solved if I could put together a freelance writing/editing portfolio. That is actually my next big project -- organize all of my writing (which is currently spread across three computers), so that I can put together a portfolio and see about getting some freelance work.

I also need to finish that ICL application and return it.

But right now I really need to clean the house and do some laundry. Oh, and put together the exercise bike we bought over the weekend -- yay!

But here's what I threw together for lunch yesterday -- turned out pretty yummy.

Peanut Chicken Stir Fry

1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into thin slices
1 1-lb package frozen sugar snap pea stir fry (or an equivalent amount of fresh sugar snap peas and thin sliced carrots, onion and mushrooms)
1 small handful cocktail peanuts
peanut or olive oil for cooking

Sauce:
1/2 cup peanut butter
1/2 cup water (add 1/4 cup if using fresh vegetables)
2 tbls vegetable or peanut oil
2 tbls cider or red wine vinegar (or 3 tbls rice wine vinegar)
2 tsp lite soy sauce (more or less to taste)
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (more or less to taste)
1 tsp black pepper (more or less to taste)

Put sauce ingredients in blender and mix until combined. If you are using frozen veggies, it will be a bit thick -- about the consistency of honey. If you are using fresh veggies it will be a bit runnier. Taste the sauce to make sure it is spiced to your taste.

In a wok (or sauté pan) over medium high heat, cook chicken in oil until juices run clear. Remove and keep warm. If needed, add more oil to pan. Cook vegetables (if using frozen veggies, put them in frozen) until done. Do not drain off the water which comes from the frozen veggies (it'll thin the sauce). Return chicken to the pan, add nuts and sauce and cook over medium high heat until everything is warmed through.

Serve over rice. Makes 4 servings.

Why I Can't Write

When I first lost my job, I had a fabulous morning routine that meant I had time to write, time to clean, time to read, and best of all, time to myself.

We'd be up at 5:30; M would leave for the gym at 6:00, and I would head into the office for a few hours of writing before taking Pupper for a 9am walk and then heading to the gym. Afternoons, I would clean and/or read. This worked great for a week until M realized that without me going to the gym at 6am, she didn't have the motivation to do it herself, so two hours of morning solitude/writing time went out the window. She leaves for school at 8, so I am left with only 1 hour instead of the 3 I had been luxuriating in. Until I can figure out a new schedule, I'll be stealing writing time. Perhaps I just have to disappear into the office or work room at 6:00 anyway. Who knows. I have noticed that since she stopped going to the gym in the morning, so have I because I am looking for a way to regain the "lost" time I'm spending with her rather than "working".

Don't get me wrong. I love my wife, and I love spending time with her in the morning. I just need to re-schedule my time. The whole thing is complicated even more, as well, by visits from our dog walker -- who no longer really has a job since I've been fired but misses our dog and needs the motivation to exercise. She is lonely, and most days she plops herself on the sofa and stays here chatting for a couple of hours in the afternoon. She is a great person, and I enjoy spending time with her, but I also need to get stuff done. M says I need to be blunt and tell her that I have things to do; I have a hard time doing that.

I will get better at this, I know I will. But until then, I may not have as much time to write as I wish.

Of course, this past week has been even "worse" since between sick days (that stomach thing) and snow days, M has been to school one day. And next week is February vacation, on top of that. I hadn't realized how much I enjoyed my solitude until I lost it completely. Boy, I really AM an introvert, ain't I?

Now, I'm off to listen to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" -- the absolute greatest game show ever.

But I leave you with this:

It's the penguin sweater to go with the Jelli Beenz Socks I made my niece. I forgot to photo the thing before we wrapped and gifted it. Mom sent this pic a couple weeks ago.

Pattern: Plymouth D025 - Penguin Sweater
Yarn: Cleckheaton Country 8-Ply #2277 (4 balls), #2167 (1 ball), #6 (2 balls), #1805 (1 ball)
Needles: Brittany walnut 10" #4 and 6
Mods: Picked up way more stitches around the neck than the pattern called for as the child in question doesn't like stuff at all tight around her neck.

"Letting You Go"

I hate euphemisms. I tend to agree with George Carlin that euphemisms usually only serve to remove us from problems so that we can ignore them from a safe distance. Take the USDA's recent decision to demote hunger (a term whose meaning is all too clear) to a mere state of "food insecurity" (where I presume you're a little apprehensive about the white sauce thickening properly). A better example of elimination by obfuscation I haven't seen in a long while.

This week, I was fired. Of course, no one actually said that. I was "let go". (Okay, *I* told some people I was fired because, you know, I don't like euphemisms).

In reality (and with a day away from there to lend perspective), I see "let go" in this case as exactly what happened. I have a definite feeling of having been let go. Let go like an animal who's been in a shelter cage for too long or a helium balloon that's been tied to a chair too heavy to lift (though I don't recommend letting helium balloons go -- they don't have feelings, but birds and other wildlife do, and balloons can be dangerous to them and the environment). Just let go -- allowed finally to run free, escaped from the shackles of a job I (let's be honest) hated and wasn't very good at.

M told me last night she heard glee in my voice for the first time in a long time. I slept like a baby last night. I got up this morning more refreshed and ready for the day than I have in at least a couple years. I think the complete and utter toxicity of my situation over the past couple of years will only become apparent as time and distance allow me to heal, but for now (mind you, it's been only a day):

my carpal tunnel symptoms are gone
my heartburn is gone
I was humming for real earlier today
despite spending the morning doing some rather aerobic housework, I had the best cardio workout I've had in a long time at the gym

Are we worried? Sure, financially, this makes things more than tight, but we know there's a lot of pork which has crept back into our spending, and we know that just having one of us home to cook and clean and do real grocery shopping will save us money. Besides, when we took the plunge and moved out here with the promise of nothing more than a part time church and no benefits, we put the finances in God's hands. The deal is that we will follow God's plan, and God is in charge of making ends meet. And that hasn't changed.

I've felt for a while that I should quit my job, but I was just too chicken to do it and lose the health insurance. Last weekend I read no fewer than 3 articles in 3 different journals about job stress and burnout and its costs to the individual, a marriage, and society. M's sermon this weekend (intended to get people thinking about their role in the Church, granted) pressed us all to look inside at what we love and what we're good at and put those gifts to work and stop just doing what we feel obligated or pressured to do.

Message received, and now it's up to me to use this time wisely and productively (aside from getting the house clean, which is my first order of business). What do I want to be when I "grow up"? How far do I think my weaving can take me? How does one break into freelance editing/proofreading/writing? Do I really want to work for someone else? Is being a housewife and part-time something-I-can-do-at-home really what I need?

Stay tuned....

I'm a Lady (at least someone thinks so)

You Are 100% Lady

No doubt about it, you are a lady with impeccable etiquette

You know how to put others at ease, even if their manners aren't the greatest.

Are You A Lady?

Phew!

Well, Mother's Day weekend is over. All permanent residents of our home are utterly exhausted. Though it's nice finally to be able to host the parental units in our own house, it is very tiring to have that many people in the house for any length of time.

Our sweet little boy spent the weekend keeping track of six adults, and it like to have killed him. He crashed when they left, though just like a child who doesn't want to miss anything, he tried to keep an eye on us, but they just wouldn't stay open.

Sometime around 7-ish our buddy MS (that would be the man who forgot to move us until it was almost too late) showed up -- big black truck pulls into the driveway and honks. Out tumble MS, his two sons, his dog, and his mother. "I just wanted to show my mom your house -- especially the attic." Poor Mom, who has never met us, was a little embarrassed -- alas, it's MS and we're used to this behavior. I love this man. He's raising his two sons alone after his wife left, and he's doing a bang-up job. They're smart, well-adjusted, honestly good kids who work just as hard as their dad (how many 16-year-old boys can you say that about?).

We missed early-to-bed, and we've made the wimpy decision that there's no going to the gym in the morning.

And we don't get a weekend next weekend, either.

And, I also realize I haven't yet waxed poetic about the attic -- perhaps tomorrow.

A Day of Adrenaline

Got up and forwent(?) the gym this morning to help with the last minute packing, then headed off to work for a couple of hours before THE MEETING.

Before I could get to the meeting, however, all heck broke loose back at the homestead. (This would be the all-packed-in-boxes-and-we're-ready-to-get-the-*bleep*-out-of-there homestead.) M called me at 9:15 to inform me that the mover (who was supposed to show at 8:30) wasn't there yet. I figured he was getting a truck or rounding up his troops and told her not to worry, but to call him.

10:00, no mover; 10:15, no mover; 10:30, I have to get my behind out of the office for the meeting. On the way up the highway cell phone rings -- still no mover, but a good luck wish.

Make it to the meeting with mere milliseconds to spare; apologize to the editor, explaining that our mover is MIA. He shared an amusing-in-retrospect story about their last move home to New England from Texas, and I relaxed -- somehow everything will be okay.

After the meeting (and the Wonderlic -- more below), I called home to find that our dear, dear MS had, indeed, forgotten us. He was having a nervous breakdown and on his way to the house with some hired day help (all of his men were on the job he forgot us for) and his trailer to get us moved.

And move us he did. Less than 5 hours after they showed at the old house, they were pulling out of the driveway at the new one. Record time, I say. And nothing was broken, no woodwork or floors in either house gouged, and everyone in a fairly good mood.

Cats, not so. They didn't like one bit being dumped at a stranger's house, and our poor little Mr. K hid under the bathtub when we went to pick them up. When we got them to the (very disarrayed) house, Lady B was a little disgruntled but soon realized that this was all her stuff. She marked a few things and spent the rest of the night wandering about making a mental map of the place. Mr. K was less accepting. Poor little traumatized thing: he hid, wanted nothing to do with any of it, discovered a quiet bedroom upstairs and has pretty much stayed there since.

Yeah, the Wonderlic. Not so bad, really. Most people don't finish, and neither did I (got through 48, though). Pretty confident that I at least did well enough that I