Imagine my delight to see the snow coming down so thick and white. There is just something so special about snow. It's clean. And pure. And I need that hope of newness in my life right now. The chance to have all the wrongness cleansed away. To begin again and try to get it right.
Well, NOT a hyacinth. I was wondering what he was talking about when he mentioned digging up the hostas. Which, by the way, over multiply and take over. But I wasn't paying enough attention. Or probably any attention. Or dismissed the whole thing. Whatever. A ton of recently sprouted hyacinths have been removed from their spring, blossom forming home. Some of them may be replanted in other locations. I don't know whether they will bloom. Well, if not this spring, maybe next. Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I learn to pay more attention to the intentions of the resident landscape person.
Who woulda thunk that there is such a difference from a size 13 to a size 11? Really there is. I began knitting this current shawl with a size 13. It was awkward and tiring and I couldn't knit very long at a time without my fingers getting awkward and stiff. Then I changed over to size elevens. WOW! A BIG difference. I can now knit, knit, knit. My fingers seem to fit and do not tire. No more size 13 -- ever.
Then I decided to get out the needle gauge that I inherited from my mother. A beautiful aluminum, Susan Bates needle guage. Interesting that the smallest size is zero and then the increments are by one -- 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 -- then SURPRISE 10 1/2. Hmm, I wonder why that is. The next size is 11 and then surprise again, 13, then 15, then another surprise 16. I don't see any rhyme or reason for these numbers. I suppose a great deal of thought was put into this many, many eons ago. I can just accept it and be thankful that I have a gauge.
The Week In Review
It seems to have been such a long week. Even with the washing maching fixed and back in place we have had three episodes of the sump failing. Wednesday night was the final straw. As I came in from the Lent program at church, I could hear the pump grinding away. Went downstairs to see if I could right it but nothing I tried seemed to work. Bill was out at a family Birthday dinner so I had to worry it out until he came home. He took one look at it and said, 'It's dead.'
So Bill's project yesterday was to put in a new sump. As with everything this required multiple trips up and downstairs and to Home Depot. He was finally finishing this up when he went into the side of his van to get a tool and discovered that he had been robbed. The lock punched out and some very nice tools taken. Don't know when. Don't even know where because I cannot see how this could have happened right in our driveway. But then odd things do happen. Bill is feeling violated but otherwise taking it pretty well.
During all of this chaos I somehow managed to feel some renewed energy and am making headway into some long overdue household chores. I'm actually feeling pretty good about this. A little order goes a long way for making me feel more ambitious and productive. So, it is a cycle well started.
I still have a wall phone on my kitchen wall. With a l o n g a, l o n g a cord. Time was when I would walk around the kitchen doing dishes, fixing meals, cleaning up. Not any more. I was never much of a telephone talker and with the advent of the computer I use the phone as little as possible -- the exception being talking with my sister.
Jacq still talks on the phone -- a lot. She has several distantly located contacts with whom she checks in periodically and spends an hour or so. Not me. I will talk to Jacq for an hour or more but with anyone else I get fidgety and bored. Not with Jacq.
As soon as there was Prodigy, I was an instant cyberspace communicator. When Prodigy went by the wayside I was instantly a subscriber to AOL. IM'd a lot. E-mail is my main communication link. My sister and I e-mail every day. (And we still have things to talk about when we phone.) Church communication is done via e-mail. Luncheon dates with the "Ladies" is done through e-mail. People know not to call unless it is an absolute emergency, otherwise just rest assured that I will answer the e-mail.
And so the phone sits idle most of the time. Interesting that with cell phones and IPhones, and FaceBook, we have REnamed the phone. It is now considered a Land Line. Progress is weird -- on many levels.
... bread. Of course. And our local ShopRite makes the most wonderful rosemary and ripe olive bread. Lent is my opportunity to make soup and indulge in this delicious bread -- and butter. Real butter.
This week chicken soup with sweet potatoes, celery, mushrooms and a fair amount of poached chicken breast. Nothing that should be on anyones 'dislike' list. Next time though I may make pumpkin-white bean. Many people don't do beans. I love beans. And another time maybe tomato something. We have a few people who don't do tomatoes. But chicken is pretty safe.
Safe is good. Some of the time. But taking chances and trying out new things is also good. Taking a chance means the possibility of failing. Or in the case of soup, disaster. I've had my share of those. I keep trying new combinations though. I put the failures on the 'let's not do this again' list. The successes are usually the basis for further experimentation. Sort of like life. I just keep trying to get it to be the best that I can. I guess when I finally succeed, I'll be done.
Yup, a glass of wine before dishing up dinner sounds like a really good idea. I think I'm pushing myself a little too much. Planning too much for the available time. This morning I did a day's work BEFORE I went to work. I need to pace myself better. Take more rests. Be more judicious with my planning. I get a list of projects in my head and then can't let it go. At the end of the day I'm disappointed because I didn't get everything accomplished.
So, time out. Slow down. Have a glass of wine. Take some deep breaths. AND it might even be a good idea to let God into the day.
